“In Mrs. Delacour’s dressing-room, my lady:—she desired me to take it up there, and she locked the door, and said no one should go in till you came.”
“Very well—go on. Belinda, my dear, I hope that I have worked up your curiosity to the highest pitch.”
CHAPTER XXXI. — THE DENOUEMENT.
Curiosity was not, at this instant, the strongest passion in Belinda’s mind. When the carriage stopped at Mrs. Delacour’s door, her heart almost ceased to beat; but she summoned resolution to go through, with firmness and dignity, the task she had undertaken.
Clarence Hervey was not in the room when they entered, nor was Virginia: Mrs. Ormond said that she had been extremely feverish during the night, and that she had advised her not to get up till late in the day. But Mrs. Delacour immediately went for her, and in a few minutes she made her appearance.
Belinda and Lady Delacour exchanged a glance of surprise and admiration. There was a grace and simplicity in her manner, joined to an air of naïveté, that made an irresistible impression in her favour. Lady Delacour, however, after the first surprise was over, seemed to relapse into her former opinion; and the piercing looks which her ladyship from time to time cast upon Virginia as she spoke, produced their effect. She was abashed and silent. Belinda endeavoured to engage her in conversation, and to her she talked with ease and even with freedom. Virginia examined Miss Portman’s countenance with a species of artless curiosity and interest, that was not restrained by factitious politeness. This examination was not peculiarly agreeable to Belinda, yet it was made with so much apparent simplicity, that she could not be displeased.
On the first pause in the conversation, Mrs. Delacour said, “Pray, my dear Lady Delacour, what is this wonderful present that you sent to me this morning, which you desired that no one should see till you came?”
“I cannot satisfy your curiosity yet,” replied Lady Delacour. “I must wait till Clarence Hervey comes, for the present is intended for him.”