“But these will weigh not a grain in the estimation of her truly disinterested and noble-minded niece. Mrs. Stanhope knows nothing of Mr. Vincent’s proposals; and it is well for him she does not, for her worldly good word would mar the whole. Not so as to Lady Anne and Mr. Percival’s approbation—their opinion is all in all with my friend. How they have contrived it, I know not, but they have gained over Belinda’s mind a degree of power almost equal to parental authority; so you may guess that the doubtful beam will not much longer nod from side to side: indeed it seems to me scarcely necessary to throw in the sword of authority to turn the scale.
“If you can persuade yourself to finish your picturesque tour before the ides of the charming month of November, do, my dear Clarence! make haste and come back to us in time for Belinda’s wedding—and do not forget my commission about the Dorsetshire angel; bring me one in your right hand with a gold ring upon her taper finger—so help you, Cupid! or never more expect a smile
“From your sincere friend and admirer,
“T.C.H. DELACOUR.”
“P.S. Observe, my good sir, that I am not in such a desperate hurry to congratulate you on your marriage, that I should be satisfied with an ordinary Mrs. Hervey: so do not, under pretence of obliging me, or for any other consideration, yoke yourself to some damsel that you will be ashamed to produce. For one woman worthy to be Clarence Hervey’s wife, I have seen, at a moderate computation, a hundred fit to be his mistress. If he should, on this subject, mistake the fitness of things or of persons, he would indeed be in a fair way to be unhappy for life.
“The substance of a lady’s letter, it has been said, always is comprised in the postscript.”
After Lady Delacour had finished this letter, which she had no doubt would bring Clarence immediately to town, she left it with Marriott, with orders to have it sent by the next post. Much fatigued, she then retired to rest, and was not visible the next day till near dinner-time. When Miss Portman returned the packet of Mr. Hervey’s letters, her ladyship was dissatisfied with the measured terms of Belinda’s approbation, and she said, with a sarcastic smile, “So, they have made a complete philosopher of you at Oakly-park! You are perfect in the first lesson—not to admire. And is the torch of Cupid to be extinguished on the altar of Reason?”
“Rather to be lighted there, if possible,” said Belinda; and she endeavoured to turn the conversation to what she thought must be more immediately interesting to Lady Delacour—her own health. She assured her, with perfect truth, that she was at present more intent upon her situation than upon Cupid or his torch.
“I believe you, my generous Belinda!” said Lady Delacour; “and for that very reason I am interested in your affairs, I am afraid, even to the verge of impertinence. May I ask why this preux chevalier of yours did not attend you, or follow you to town?”
“Mr. Vincent?—He knew that I came to attend your ladyship. I told him that you had been confined by a nervous fever, and that it would be impossible for me to see him at present; but I promised, when you could spare me, to return to Oakly-park.”