In a short time, Mrs. Hanson received several offers from men of fortune for Matilda, all of which were politely but positively refused; for the poor girl always showed a decided dread of leaving her mother, and very justly observed, that a very intimate acquaintance was necessary between persons who bound themselves to so sacred and indissoluble a connection as marriage; and although naturally too generous and ingenuous to suspect others of acting from unworthy motives, she was yet aware that a young woman who has a large fortune in her own disposal, and who has neither father nor brother to investigate the private character of those who address her, has need of a more than ordinary share of prudence, and will be wise in delaying a consent which deprives her of all control over the wealth of which Providence has appointed her steward.
Although thus wise in her decision on this important point, and ever assigning reasons which showed how utterly unbiassed her affections were towards the candidates for her favour, yet Matilda did not always act with equal wisdom; she was excessively fond of dancing, and as she acquitted herself with uncommon grace, perhaps vanity furnished her with an additional motive for her desire to partake this amusement more frequently than it suited her mamma; and once she accepted an invitation to a private ball, when Mrs. Weston was her chaperon. Waltzing was introduced, and Matilda, though by no means pleased with the general style of the dance, was struck with certain movements which she thought graceful, and the day following began to practise them with her young protégée.
“I think you waltz very well,” said Mrs. Weston.
“I soon should do so, I dare say, if I practised it; but as it was new to me, I durst not venture last night, although I made a kind of half promise to Sir Theodore Branson, that I would do it the very next time we met.”
“Do you call that waltzing?” said Mrs. Hanson, laying down her netting; “it appears to me to be more the work of the hands than the feet a great deal; and you go round and round, child, very foolishly, till one grows giddy to look at you—so, so—well, and what, do the gentlemen stand by to grow giddy too?”
“Dear mamma, the gentlemen waltz with the ladies; I said, you know, that Sir Theodore wished me to do it, but I refused.”
“You did perfectly right; I should have been much hurt if you had waltzed with any man.”
“It is very fashionable, mother.”
“More the pity; but I am sure I need no argument against it to you, Matilda.”
“Indeed, mamma, I see nothing against it—I think it very graceful; and I am sure, if you had seen Lady Emma Lovell last night, you would have thought so too.”