Ellen observed, that it was not worth while to hate, it was sufficient to avoid them.—Almeria grew warmer in her abhorrence; and Ellen at last expressed, half in jest, half in earnest, some fear, that if Miss Turnbull felt with such exquisite sensibility the neglect of persons of fashion, she might in a different situation be ambitious, or vain of their favour. Almeria was offended, and was very near quarrelling with her friend for harbouring such a mean opinion of her character.
“Do you imagine that I could ever make a friend of such a person as Lady Stock?”
“A friend! far from it. I am very sure that you could not.”
“Then how could I be ambitious of her favour? I am desirous only of the favour, esteem, and affection of my friends.”
“But people who live in what is called the world, you know, my dear Almeria, desire to have acquaintance as well as friends,” said Ellen; “and they value those by their fashion or rank, and by the honour which may be received from their notice in public places.”
“Yes, my dear,” interrupted Almeria; “though I have never been in London, as you have, I understand all that perfectly well, I assure you; but I only say, that I am certain I should never judge, and that I should never act, in such a manner.”
Ellen smiled, and said, “It is difficult to be certain of what we should do in situations in which we have never been placed.”—Almeria burst into tears, and her friend could scarcely pacify her by the kindest expressions.
“Observe, my dear Almeria, that I said we, not you: I do not pretend that, till I have been tried, I could be certain of my own strength of mind in new situations: I believe it is from weakness, that people are often so desirous of the notice of persons for whom they have no esteem. If I were forced to live among a certain set of company, I suppose I should, in time, do just as they do; for I confess, that I do not think I could bear every day to be utterly neglected in society, even such as we have been in to-day.”
Almeria wondered to hear her friend speak with so little confidence of her own spirit and independence; and vehemently declared that she was certain no change of external circumstances could make any alteration in her sentiments and feelings. Ellen forbore to press the subject farther, although the proofs which Almeria had this day given of her stoicism were not absolutely conclusive.
About a month after this conversation had passed, the suit against Miss Turnbull, to set aside Mr. Hodgkinson’s will, was tried at York. The court was crowded at an early hour; for much entertainment was expected, from the oddity of old Hodgkinson’s testamentary dispositions: besides, the large amount of the property at stake could not fail to make the cause interesting. Several ladies appeared in the galleries; among the rest, Lady Stock—Miss Elmour was there also, to accompany Almeria—Frederick was one of her counsel; and when it came to his turn to speak, he pleaded her cause with so much eloquence and ability, as to obtain universal approbation. After a trial, which lasted many hours, a verdict was given in Miss Turnbull’s favour. An immediate change appeared in the manners of all her acquaintance—they crowded round her with smiles and congratulations; and persons with whom she was scarcely acquainted, or who had, till now, hardly deigned to acknowledge her acquaintance, accosted her with an air of intimacy. Lady Stock, in particular, recovered, upon this occasion, both her sight and speech: she took Almeria’s hand most graciously, and went on chattering with the greatest volubility, as they stood at the door of the court-house. Her ladyship’s handsome equipage had drawn up, and she offered to carry Miss Turnbull home: Almeria excused herself, but felt ashamed, when she saw the look of contempt which her ladyship bestowed on Mr. Elmour’s old coach, which was far behind a number of others, and which could but ill bear a comparison with a new London carriage. Angry with herself for this weakness, our heroine endeavoured to conceal it even from her own mind; and feelings of gratitude to her friends revived in her heart the moment she was out of the sight of her fine acquaintance. She treated Ellen with even more than usual fondness; and her acknowledgments of obligation to her counsel and his father were expressed in the strongest terms. In a few days, there came a pressing invitation from Lady Stock; Mr. Elmour had accounts of Miss Turnbull’s to settle with Sir Thomas, and, notwithstanding the air of indifference with which she read the cards, Almeria was not sorry to accept of the invitation, as she knew that she should be received in a very different manner from that in which she had been treated on her former visit. She laughed, and said, “that she should be entertained by observing the change which a few thousand pounds more or less could produce in Lady Stock’s behaviour.” Yet, such is the inconsistency or the weakness of human wishes, that the very attentions which our heroine knew were paid merely to her fortune, and not to her merit, flattered her vanity; and she observed, with a strange mixture of pain and pleasure, that there was a marked difference in Lady Stock’s manner towards her and the Elmours. When the evening was over, and when she “had leisure to be good,” Almeria called herself severely to account for this secret satisfaction, of which she had been conscious from the preference given her over her friends—she accused herself of ingratitude, and endeavoured to recover her own self-complacency by redoubled professions of esteem and affection for those to whom she had so much reason to be attached. But fresh invitations came from Lady Stock, and the course of her thoughts again changed. Ellen declined accompanying her; and Miss Turnbull regretted this exceedingly, because it would be so distressing and awkward for her to go alone.