“I wish,” said Mrs. Hanson, “that you and Mrs. Harewood and our young friends would dine with me: I am really impatient to be introduced to Mr. Belmont.”
“As you please, madam; the wanderer must certainly see you once more, and I do not know that he can choose a better day.”
Ellen proposed writing a note to her mother, and left the room with Mrs. Hanson, when Mr. Harewood, perceiving that Matilda was again in confusion, said, by way of diverting her attention—“You have seen Mr. Belmont, Miss Hanson?”
“Yes, I have; and he has seen me, to my sorrow. You remind me of a folly I have by no means forgiven in myself. I still want the eye of a tutor, you see.”
“Charles has, however, been your advocate so effectually, that I believe not one of the family will ever remember it again.”
“Not one!” said Matilda, blushing deeply.
“Not one! Charles is a warm advocate.”
“He is a dear good boy, and always was; I love him very much, and while I rejoice in his good fortune, I shall be sorry to part with him.”
Matilda’s frankness assured Mr. Harewood that her heart was free where he had supposed it bound; he was anxious to read her farther; he saw that she even sought investigation from him, in whom she confided as a friend and father; but he again shrunk from the idea of undue influence, and while he walked about irresolute, time passed, and Edmund and his mother entered the drawing-room, and Matilda was called to receive them.
An air of coldness and restraint pervaded the manners of both Edmund and Matilda, to divert which, Mrs. Hanson began to relate the error into which her daughter had fallen, from the mauvaise honte of Ellen, as she supposed, and this led them to speak of the ball, and the characters of the persons present. Of course, poor Matilda was again tormented by hearing that Sir Theodore was universally believed to be her affianced lover, and she expressed the most unqualified vexation at the report, declaring that she would not go once into public again for seven years, rather than encourage the presumption of the man, or the idle gossip of his admirers.