Here the conversation was interrupted by a thundering knock at the door.
“Whose carriage is it?” said Lady Delacour. “Oh! Lady Newland’s ostentatious livery; and here is her ladyship getting out of her carriage as awkwardly as if she had never been in one before. Overdressed, like a true city dame! Pray, Clarence, look at her, entangled in her bale of gold muslin, and conscious of her bulse of diamonds!—‘Worth, if I’m worth a farthing, five hundred thousand pounds bank currency!’ she says or seems to say, whenever she comes into a room. Now let us see her entrée—”
“But, my dear,” cried Lady Delacour, starting at the sight of Belinda, who was still in her morning dress, “absolutely below par!—Make your escape to Marriott, I conjure you, by all your fears of the contempt of a lady, who will at the first look estimate you, au juste, to a farthing a yard.”
As she left the room, Belinda heard Clarence Hervey repeat to Lady Delacour—
“Give me a look, give me a face,
That makes simplicity a grace;
Robes loosely flowing, hair as free—”
he paused—but Belinda recollected the remainder of the stanza—
“Such sweet neglect more taketh me
Than all th’adulteries of art,
That strike mine eyes, but not mine heart.”
It was observed, that Miss Portman dressed herself this day with the most perfect simplicity.
Lady Delacour’s curiosity was raised by the description which Belinda and Clarence Hervey had given of the new acquaintance who sent her the gold fishes, and who wanted nothing from her but her love.
Miss Portman told her that the unknown would probably come half an hour earlier to the reading-party than any of the rest of the company. Her ladyship was alone in the library, when Lady Anne Percival brought Helena, in consequence of a note from Belinda.