“But your father shall never know any thing of the matter. I will keep your secret from the whole world: trust to my honour.”
“Honour! Oh! sir, how can you talk to me of honour! Do you think I do not know what honour is, because I am poor? Or do you think I do not set any value on mine, though you do on yours? Would you not kill any man, if you could, in a duel, for doubting of your honour? And yet you expect me to love you, at the very moment you show me, most plainly, how desirous you are to rob me of mine!”
Mr. Folingsby was silent for some moments; but, when he saw that Fanny was leaving him, he hastily stopped her, and said, laughing, “You have made me a most charming speech about honour; and, what is better still, you looked most charmingly when you spoke it; but now take time to consider what I I have said to you. Let me have your answer to-morrow; and consult this book before you answer me, I conjure you.”
Fanny took up the book as soon as Mr Folingsby had left the room; and, without opening it, determined to return it immediately. She instantly wrote a letter to Mr. Folingsby, which she was just wrapping up with the book in a sheet of paper, when Miss Jessy Bettesworth, the blind lady, and the music-master, came into the room. Fanny went to set a chair for the blind lady; and, whilst she was doing so, Miss Jessy Bettesworth, who had observed that Fanny blushed when they came in, slily peeped into the book, which lay on the table. Between the first pages she opened there was a five-pound bank-note; she turned the leaf, and found another, and another, and another at every leaf! Of these notes she counted one-and-twenty! whilst Fanny, unsuspicious of what was doing behind her back, was looking for the children’s music-books.
“Philip Folingsby! So, so! Did he give you this book, Fanny Frankland?” said Jessy, in a scornful tone: “it seems truly to be a very valuable performance; and, no doubt, he had good reasons for giving it to you.”
Fanny coloured deeply at this unexpected speech; and hesitated, from the fear of betraying Mr. Folingsby. “He did not give me the book: he only lent it to me,” said she, “and I am going to return it to him directly.”
“Oh! no; pray lend it to me first,” replied Jessy, in an ironical tone; “Mr. Folingsby, to be sure, would lend it to me as soon as to you. I’m growing as fond of reading as other folks, lately,” continued she, holding the book fast.
“I dare say, Mr. Folingsby would—Mr. Folingsby would lend it to you, I suppose,” said Fanny, colouring more and more deeply; “but, as it is trusted to me now, I must return it safe. Pray let me have it, Jessy.”
“Oh! yes; return it, madam, safe! I make no manner of doubt you will! I make no manner of doubt you will!” replied Jessy, several times, as she shook the book; whilst the bank-notes fell from between the leaves, and were scattered upon the floor. “It is a thousand pities, Mrs. Cheviott, you can’t see what a fine book we have got, full of bank-notes! But Mrs. Hungerford is not blind at any rate, it is to be hoped,” continued she, turning to Mrs. Hungerford, who at this instant opened the door.
She stood in dignified amazement. Jessy had an air of malignant triumph. Fanny was covered with blushes; but she looked with all the tranquillity of innocence. The children gathered round her; and blind Mrs. Cheviott cried, “What is going on? What is going on? Will nobody tell me what is going on? Jessy! What is it you are talking about, Jessy?”