“‘The world forgetting, by the world forgot.’”
“That,” said Angelina, “‘is the blameless vestal’s lot:’—but you forget that you are to be married, my Araminta; and you forget that, in your letter of three folio sheets, you said not one word to me of this intended marriage.”
“Nay, my dear, blame me not for a want of confidence, that my heart disclaims,” said Miss Hodges: “from the context of my letters, you must have suspected the progress my Orlando had made in my affections; but, indeed, I should not have brought myself to decide apparently so precipitately, had it not been for the opposition, the persecution of my friends—I was determined to show them that I know, and can assert, my right to think and act, upon all occasions, for myself.”
Longer, much longer, Miss Hodges, spoke in the most peremptory voice; but whilst she was declaiming on her favourite topic, her Angelina was “revolving in her altered mind” the strange things which she had seen and heard in the course of the last half-hour; every thing appeared to her in a new light; when she compared the conversation and conduct of Miss Hodges with the sentimental letters of her Araminta; when she compared Orlando in description to Orlando in reality, she could scarcely believe her senses: accustomed as she had been to elegance of manners, the vulgarity and awkwardness of Miss Hodges shocked and disgusted her beyond measure. The disorder, and—for the words must be said—slatternly dirty appearance of her Araminta’s dress, and of every thing in her apartment, were such as would have made a hell of heaven; and the idea of spending her life in a cottage with Mrs. Hodges Gazabo and Nat overwhelmed our heroine with the double fear of wretchedness and ridicule.
“Another cup of tea, my Angelina?” said Miss Hodges, when she had finished her tirade against her persecutors, that is to say, her friends, “another cup, my Angelina?—do, after your journey and fatigue, take another cup.”
“No more, I thank you.”
“Then reach me that tragedy, Nat—you know—”
“Your own tragedy, is it, my dear?” said he.
“Ah, Nat, now! you never can keep a secret,” said Miss Hodges. “I wanted to have surprised my Angelina.”
“I am surprised!” thought Angelina—“oh, how much surprised!”