“And now you know the reason, ma’am,” added Marriott, “that I said, I was glad things are as they are. To be sure I and every body once thought—but that’s all over now—and I am glad things are as they are.”
Lady Delacour once more turned her quick eyes upon Belinda, and was much pleased to see that she seemed to sympathize with Marriott’s indignation.
In the evening, when they were alone, Lady Delacour touched upon the subject again, and observed, that as they should now, in all probability, see Mr. Hervey in a few days, they might be able to form a better judgment of this affair, which she doubted not had been exaggerated. “You should judge from the whole of Clarence’s conduct and character, and not from any particular part,” said her ladyship. “Do not his letters breathe a spirit of generosity?”
“But,” interrupted Miss Portman, “I am not called upon to judge of Mr. Hervey’s whole conduct and character, nor of any part of it; his letters and his generosity are nothing—”
“To you?” said Lady Delacour with a smile.
“This is no time, and no subject for raillery, my dear friend,” said Belinda; “you assured me, and I believed you, that the idea of Mr. Hervey’s return was entirely out of the question, when you prevailed upon me to delay my journey to Oakly-park. As I now understand that your ladyship has changed your mind, I must request your ladyship will permit me—”
“I will permit you to do what you please, dearest Belinda, except to call me your ladyship twice in one sentence. You shall go to Oakly-park the day after to-morrow: will that content you, my dear? I admire your strength of mind—you are much fitter to conduct yourself than I am to conduct you. I have done with raillery: my first, my only object, is your happiness. I respect and esteem as much as I love you, and I love you better than any thing upon earth—power excepted, you will say—power not excepted, believe me; and if you are one of those strange people that cannot believe without proof, you shall have proof positive upon the spot,” added she, ringing the bell as she spoke. “I will no longer contend for power over your mind with your friends at Oakly-park. I will give orders, in your presence, to Marriott, to prepare for our march—I did not call it retreat; but there is nothing shows so much generalship as a good retreat, unless it be a great victory. I am, I confess, rather prejudiced in favour of victory.”
“So am I,” said Belinda, with a smile; “I am so strongly prejudiced in favour of victory, that rather than obtain no other, I would even be content with a victory over myself.”
Scarcely had Belinda pronounced these words, when Lord Delacour, who had dined in town, entered the room, accompanied by Mr. Vincent.
“Give me leave, Lady Delacour, to introduce to you,” said his lordship, “a young gentleman, who has a great, and, I am sure, a most disinterested desire to cultivate your ladyship’s further acquaintance.”