Tales and Novels Volume III Part 24

"Nay," cried Clarence, "your ladyship certainly sees that this is St.

Pierre's Virginia?"

"St. Pierre's Virginia! Oh, I know who it is, Clarence, as well as you do. I am not quite so blind, or so stupid, as you take me to be." Then recollecting her promise, not to betray Sir Philip's secret, she added, pointing to the landscape of the picture, "These cocoa trees, this fountain, and the words _Fontaine de Virginie_, inscribed on the rock--I must have been stupidity itself, if I had not found it out. I absolutely _can_ read, Clarence, and spell, and put together. But here comes Sir Philip Baddely, who, I believe, cannot read, for I sent him an hour ago for a catalogue, and he pores over the book as if he had not yet made out the t.i.tle."

Sir Philip had purposely delayed, because he was afraid of rejoining Lady Delacour whilst Clarence Hervey was with her, and whilst they were talking of the picture of Virginia.

"Here's the catalogue; here's the picture your ladyship wants. St.

Pierre's Virginia: damme! I never heard of that fellow before--he is some new painter, damme! that is the reason I did not know the hand. Not a word of what I told you, Lady Delacour--you won't blow us to Clary,"

added he _aside_ to her ladyship. "Rochfort keeps aloof; and so will I, damme!"

A gentleman at this instant beckoned to Mr. Hervey with an air of great eagerness. Clarence went and spoke to him, then returned with an altered countenance, and apologized to Lady Delacour for not dining with her, as he had promised. Business, he said, of great importance required that he should leave town immediately. Helena had just taken Miss Portman into a little room, where Westall's drawings were hung, to show her a group of Lady Anne Percival and her children; and Belinda was alone with the little girl, when Mr. Hervey came to bid her adieu. He was in much agitation.

"Miss Portman, I shall not, I am afraid, see you again for some time;--perhaps I may never have that--hem!--happiness. I had something of importance that I wished to say to you before I left town; but I am forced to go so suddenly, I can hardly hope for any moment but the present to speak to you, madam. May I ask whether you purpose remaining much longer with Lady Delacour?"

"Yes," said Belinda, much surprised. "I believe--I am not quite certain--but I believe I shall stay with her ladyship some time longer."

Mr. Hervey looked painfully embarra.s.sed, and his eyes involuntarily fell upon little Helena. Helena drew her hand gently away from Belinda, left the room, and retired to her mother.

"That child, Miss Portman, is very fond of you," said Mr. Hervey.

Again he paused, and looked round to see whether he could be overheard.

"Pardon me for what I am going to say. This is not a proper place. I must be abrupt; for I am so circ.u.mstanced, that I have not a moment's time to spare. May I speak to you with the sincerity of a friend?"

"Yes. Speak to me with sincerity," said Belinda, "and you will deserve that I should think you my friend." She trembled excessively, but spoke and looked with all the firmness that she could command.

"I have heard a report," said Mr. Hervey, "which is most injurious to you."

"To me!"

"Yes. No one can escape calumny. It is whispered, that if Lady Delacour should die--."

At the word _die_, Belinda started.

"That if Lady Delacour should die, Miss Portman would become the mother of Helena!"

"Good Heavens! what an absurd report! Surely _you_ could not for an instant believe it, Mr. Hervey?"

"Not for an instant. But I resolved, as soon as I heard it, to mention it to you; for I believe that half the miseries of the world arise from foolish mysteries--from the want of courage to speak the truth. Now that you are upon your guard, your own prudence will defend you sufficiently.

I never saw any of your s.e.x who appeared to me to have so much prudence, and so little art; but--farewell--I have not a moment to lose," added Clarence, suddenly checking himself; and he hurried away from Belinda, who stood fixed to the spot where he left her, till she was roused by the voices of several people who came into the room to see the drawings.

She started as if from a dream, and went immediately in search of Lady Delacour.

Sir Philip Baddely was in earnest conversation with her ladyship; but he stopped speaking when Belinda came within hearing, and Lady Delacour turned to Helena, and said, "My dear, if you are satisfied, for mercy's sake let us be gone, for I am absolutely overcome with heat--and with curiosity," added she in a low voice to Belinda: "I long to hear how Clarence Hervey likes Westall's drawings."

As soon as they got home, Lady Delacour sent her daughter to practise a new lesson upon the piano forte. "And now sit down, my dear Belinda,"

said she, "and satisfy my curiosity. It is the curiosity of a friend, not of an impertinent busybody. Has Clarence declared himself? He chose an odd time and place; but that is no matter; I forgive him, and so do you, I dare say. But why do you tear that unfortunate carnation to pieces? Surely you cannot be embarra.s.sed in speaking to me! What's the matter? I once did tell you, that I would not give up my claim to Clarence's adorations during my life; but I intend to live a few years longer after the amazonian operation is performed, you know; and I could not have the conscience to keep you waiting whole years. It is better to do things with a good grace, lest one should be forced at last to do them with an ill grace. Therefore I give up all manner of claim to every thing but--flattery! that of course you will allow me from poor Clarence. So now do not begin upon another flower; but, without any farther superfluous modesty, let me hear all the pretty things Clarence said or swore."

Whilst Belinda was pulling the carnation to pieces, she recollected what Mr. Hervey had said to her about mysteries: his words still sounded in her ear. "_I believe that half the miseries of the world arise from foolish mysteries--from the want of courage to speak the truth_." I will have the courage to speak the truth, thought she, whatever it may cost me.

"The only pretty thing that Mr. Hervey said was, that he never saw any woman who had so much prudence and so little art," said Belinda.

"A very pretty thing indeed, my dear! But it might have been said in open court by your grandfather, or your great-grandfather. I am sorry, if that was all, that Helena did not stay to hear such a charming moral compliment--_Moralite a la glace_. The last thing I should have expected in a _tete-a-tete_ with Clarence Hervey. Was it worth while to pull that poor flower to pieces for such a pretty speech as this? And so that was all?"

"No, not all: but you overpower me with your wit; and I cannot stand the 'lightning of your eyes.'"

"There!" said her ladyship, letting down her veil over her face, "the fire of my eyes is not too much for you now."

"Helena was showing me Westall's drawing of Lady Anne Percival and her children--"

"And Mr. Hervey wished that he was the father of such a charming group of children, and you the mother--hey? was not that it? It was not put in such plain terms, but that was the purport, I presume?"

"No, not at all; he said nothing about Lady Anne Percival's children, but--"

"But--why then did you bring in her ladyship and her children? To gain time?--Bad policy!--Never, whilst you live, when you have a story to tell, bring in a parcel of people who have nothing to do with the beginning, the middle, or the end of it. How could I suspect you of such false taste! I really imagined these children were essential to the business; but I beg pardon for giving you these elements of criticism. I a.s.sure you I interrupt you, and talk on so fast, from pure good-nature, to give you time to recollect yourself; for I know you've the worst of memories, especially for what Clarence Hervey says. But come, my dear, dash into the middle of things at once, in the true Epic style."

"Then to dash into the midst of things at once," said Miss Portman, speaking very quick: "Mr. Hervey observed that Miss Delacour was growing very fond of me."

"Miss Delacour, did you say?" cried her ladyship: "_Et puis_?"

At this instant Champfort opened the door, looked in, and seeing Lady Delacour, immediately retired.

"Champfort, whom do you want--or what do you want?" said her ladyship.

"Miladi, c'est que--I did come from milord, to see if miladi and mademoiselle were visible. I did tink miladi was not at home."

"You see I am at home, though," said her ladyship. "Has Lord Delacour any business with me?"

"No, miladi: not with miladi," said Champfort; "it was with mademoiselle."

"With me, Monsieur Champfort? then you will be so good as to tell Lord Delacour I am here."

"And that _I_ am not here, Champfort; for I must be gone to dress."

She rose hastily to leave the room, but Miss Portman caught her hand: "You won't go, I hope, Lady Delacour," said she, "till I have finished my long story?" Lady Delacour sat down again, ashamed of her own embarra.s.sment.

Whether this be art, innocence, or a.s.surance, thought she, I cannot tell; but we shall see.

Lord Delacour now came in, with a half-unfolded newspaper, and a packet of letters in his hand. He came to apologize to Miss Portman for having, by mistake, broken the seal of a letter to her, which had been sent under cover to him. He had simply asked Champfort whether the ladies were at home, that he might not have the trouble of going up stairs if they were out. Monsieur Champfort possessed, in an eminent degree, the mischievous art of appearing mysterious about the simplest things in the world.

"Though I was so thoughtless as to break the seal before I looked at the direction of the letter," said Lord Delacour, "I a.s.sure you I went no farther than the first three words; for I knew 'my dear niece' could not possibly mean me." He gave Miss Portman the letter, and left the room. This explanation was perfectly satisfactory to Belinda; but Lady Delacour, prejudiced by the hesitation of Champfort, could not help suspecting that this letter was merely the ostensible cause of his lordship's visit.

"From my aunt Stanhope," said Miss Portman, as she opened her letter.

She folded it up again after glancing over the first page, and put it into her pocket, colouring deeply.

All Lady Delacour's suspicions about Mrs. Stanhope's epistolary counsels and secrets instantly recurred, with almost the force of conviction to her mind.

"Miss Portman," said she, "I hope your politeness to me does not prevent you from reading your letter? Some ceremonious people think it vastly rude to read a letter in company; but I am not one of them: I can write whilst you read, for I have fifty notes and more to answer. So pray read your letter at your ease."

Belinda had but just unfolded her letter again, when Lord Delacour returned, followed by Champfort, who brought with him a splendid hammer-cloth.

"Here, my dear Lady Delacour," said his lordship, "is a little surprise for you: here is a new hammer-cloth, of my bespeaking and taste, which I hope you will approve of."