Mrs. Ormond clasped her hands, in an ecstasy of joy, as she glanced her eye over the letter, for it contained an offer of his hand.
“This is like yourself; like what I always knew you to be, dear Mr. Hervey!” she exclaimed.
But her exclamation was lost upon him. When she looked up, to repeat her praises, she perceived he was gone. After the effort which he had made, he wished for time to tranquillize his mind, before he should again see Virginia. What her answer to this letter would be he could not doubt: his fate was now decided, and he determined immediately to write to Lady Delacour to explain his situation; he felt that he had not sufficient fortitude at this moment to make such an explanation in person. With all the strength of his mind, he endeavoured to exclude Belinda from his thoughts, but curiosity—(for he would suffer himself to call it by no other name)—curiosity to know whether she were actually engaged to Mr. Vincent obtruded itself with such force, that it could not be resisted.
From Dr. X—— he thought he could obtain full information, and he hastened immediately to town. When he got to Clifford-street, he found that the doctor was not at home; his servant said, he might probably be met with at Mrs. Margaret Delacour’s, as he usually finished his morning rounds at her house. Thither Mr. Hervey immediately went.
The first sound that he heard, as he went up her stairs, was the screaming of a macaw; and the first person he saw, through the open door of the drawing-room, was Helena Delacour. She was standing with her back to him, leaning over the macaw’s cage, and he heard her say in a joyful tone, “Yes, though you do scream so frightfully, my pretty macaw, I love you as well as Marriott ever did. When my dear, good Miss Portman, sent this macaw—My dear aunt! here’s Mr. Hervey!—you were just wishing to see him.”
“Mr. Hervey,” said the old lady, with a benevolent smile, “your little friend Helena tells you truth; we were just wishing for you. I am sure it will give you pleasure to hear that I am at last a convert to your opinion of Lady Delacour. She has given up all those that I used to call her rantipole acquaintance. She has reconciled herself to her husband, and to his friends; and Helena is to go home to live with her. Here is a charming note I have just received from her! Dine with me on Thursday next, and you will meet her ladyship, and see a happy family party. You have had some share in the reformation, I know, and that was the reason I wished that you should be with us on Thursday. You see I am not an obstinate old woman, though I was cross the first day I saw you at Lady Anne Percival’s. I found I was mistaken in your character, and I am glad of it. But this note of Lady Delacour’s seems to have struck you dumb.”
There were, indeed, a few words in this note, which deprived him, for some moments, of all power of utterance.
“The report you have heard (unlike most other reports) is perfectly well founded: Mr. Vincent, Belinda’s admirer, is here. I will bring him with us on Thursday.”
Mr. Hervey was relieved from the necessity of accounting to Mrs. Delacour for his sudden embarrassment, by the entrance of Dr. X—— and another gentleman, of whom, in the confusion of his mind, Clarence did not at first take any notice. Dr. X——, with his usual mixture of benevolence and raillery, addressed himself to Clarence, whilst the stranger took out of his pocket some papers, and in a low voice entered earnestly into conversation with Mrs. Delacour.
“Now, tell me, if you can, Clarence,” said Dr. X——, “which of your three mistresses you like best? I think I left you some months ago in great doubt upon this subject: are you still in that philosophic state?”