Belinda had but just unfolded her letter again, when Lord Delacour returned, followed by Champfort, who brought with him a splendid hammer-cloth.
“Here, my dear Lady Delacour,” said his lordship, “is a little surprise for you: here is a new hammer-cloth, of my bespeaking and taste, which I hope you will approve of.”
“Very handsome, upon my word!” said Lady Delacour, coldly, and she fixed her eyes upon the fringe, which was black and orange: “Miss Portman’s taste, I see!”
“Did you not say black and orange fringe, my dear?”
“No. I said blue and white, my lord.”
His lordship declared he did not know how the mistake had happened; it was merely a mistake:—but her ladyship was convinced that it was done on purpose. And she said to herself, “Miss Portman will order my liveries next! I have not even the shadow of power left in my own house! I am not treated with even a decent show of respect! But this shall go on till I have full conviction of her views.”
Dissembling her displeasure, she praised the hammer-cloth, and especially the fringe. Lord Delacour retired satisfied; and Miss Portman sat down to read the following letter from her aunt Stanhope.