Though Amanda submitted her beautiful hair to the hands of a friseur, she departed not from the elegant simplicity always conspicuous in her dress. Her little ornaments were all arranged with taste, and an anxious wish of appearing to advantage. So lovely, indeed, did she appear to Lady Greystock, that her ladyship began seriously to fear she should not be forgiven by the marchioness or Lady Euphrasia, for having introduced such an object to their parties.
About six they reached Portman Square, and found a large party assembled in the drawing-room. After the first compliments were over and Amanda introduced to the marquis—not, indeed, as a near relation, but an utter stranger—a gentleman stepped up to the marchioness, and addressing her in a low voice, was immediately presented by her to Amanda, as the Earl of Cherbury.
“My dear young lady,” said he, “allow me to express the pleasure I feel at seeing the daughter of my worthy friend, Mr. Fitzalan. Allow me also to increase that pleasure,” continued he, taking her hand, and leading her to a very lovely girl who sat at some distance, “by presenting Miss Fitzalan to Lady Araminta Dormer, and desiring their friendship for each other.”
Surprised, confused, yet delighted by notice so little expected, the heart of Amanda heaved with emotion; her cheeks mantled with blushes, and the tear of sensibility trembled in her eye. She was not, however, so embarrassed as to be incapable of expressing her acknowledgments to his lordship for his attention, and also to assure him she had early been taught, and sensibly felt, the claims he had upon her gratitude and respect. He bowed, as if to prevent a further mention of obligations, and left her seated by his daughter, who had expressed her pleasure at being introduced to her, not in the supercilious style of Lady Euphrasia, but in the sweet accents of affability and tenderness.
The conduct of Lord Cherbury had drawn all eyes upon Amanda; and the marchioness and Lady Euphrasia regarded her with peculiar malignancy. The idea, however, that they could, whenever they pleased, deprive her of his notice, a little lessened the jealousy and mortification it had excited.
“Pray, who is this little creature,” exclaimed Miss Malcolm (who was a relation of the Marquis’s, and, from being extremely ugly, extremely rich, and extremely ill-natured, was an immense favorite of Lady Euphrasia’s ), “that puts one in mind of a country miss, on her first appearance at a country assembly, blushing and trembling at every eye she meets?”
“Some kind of a far-off relation of my mother’s,” replied Lady Euphrasia, “whom that old dowager, Lady Greystock, picked up in the wilds of Ireland, and has absolutely forced upon our notice; though I assure you, from compassion, we should have taken the poor creature long ago under our protection, but for the shocking conduct of her family to the marchioness, and the symptoms she has already betrayed of following their example. It is really ridiculous sending her to London. I dare say her silly old father has exhausted all his ways and means in trying to render her decent, comforting himself, no doubt, with the hope of her entrapping some young fool of quality, who may supply his wants as well as hers.”
“Ay, I suppose all the stock in the farm was sold to dress her out,” cried young Freelove, a little, trifling fop, who leaned on the back of her ladyship’s chair. He was a ward of Lord Cherbury, and his fortune considerable; but nature had not been quite as bounteous to him as the blind goddess. Both his mind and person were effeminate to a degree of insignificance. All he aimed at was—being a man of fashion. His manners, like his dress, were therefore regulated by it, and he never attempted to approve of anything, or any creature, till assured they were quite the ton. He had danced attendance for some time on Lady Euphrasia, and she encouraged his assiduities in hopes of effecting a change in Lord Mortimer’s manner. But had his lordship even been a passionate lover, poor Freelove was not calculated to inspire him with jealousy. “I declare,” continued he, surveying Amanda through an opera-glass which dangled from his button-hole, “if her father has nothing to support him but the hope of her making a conquest of importance, he will be in a sad way, for, ’pon my soul, I can see nothing the girl has to recommend her, except novelty; and that, you know, is a charm which will lessen every day. All she can possibly expect, is an establishment for a few months with some tasteless being who may like the simplicity of her country look.”
“And more than she merits,” exclaimed Miss Malcolm; “I have no patience with such creatures forcing themselves into society quite above them.”
“I assure you,” said Lady Euphrasia, “you would be astonished at her vanity and conceit, if you knew her. She considers herself a first-rate beauty, though positively any one may see she is quite the reverse, and pretends to the greatest gentleness and simplicity. Then she has made some strange kind of people (to be sure they must be) believe she is accomplished; though, I dare say, if she can read tolerably, and scrawl out a decent letter, ’tis the utmost she can do.”