_In which our heroine reconciles herself to a mortifying incident, by
recollecting an adventure in a romance, similar to her own._
As soon as the ladies were come to their lodgings, Arabella went up to
her own apartment to meditate upon what had passed, and Miss Glanville
retired to dress for dinner; while the two gentlemen, who thought they
had great reason to be dissatisfied with each other, on account of Lady
Bella's behaviour, went to a coffee-house, in order to come to some
explanation about it.
Well, sir, said the beau, with a sarcastic air, I am greatly obliged
to you for the endeavours you have used to ruin me in Lady Bella's
opinion. Rat me, if it is not the greatest misfortune in the world, to
give occasion for envy.
Envy, sir! interrupted Mr. Selvin: I protest I do really admire your
great skill in stratagems, but I do not envy you the possession of
it. You have indeed very wittily contrived to put your own sentiments
of that lady, which you delivered so freely the other night, into my
mouth. It was a master-piece of cunning, indeed; and, as I said before,
I admire your skill prodigiously.
I don't know what you mean, replied Tinsel: you talk in riddles. Did
you not yourself acquaint Lady Bella with the preference I gave Miss
Glanville to her? What would you propose by such a piece of treachery?
You have ruined all my hopes by it: the lady resents it excessively,
and it is no wonder, faith; it must certainly mortify her. Upon my
soul, I can never forgive thee for so _mal à propos_ a discovery.
Forgive me, sir! replied Selvin, in a rage: I don't want your
forgiveness. I have done nothing unbecoming a man of honour. The
lady was so prejudiced by your insinuations, that she would not give
me leave to speak; otherwise I would have fully informed her of her
mistake, that she might have known how much she was obliged to you.
So she would not hear thee? interrupted Tinsel, laughing: dear soul!
how very kind was that! Faith, I don't know how it is, but I am very
lucky, without deserving to be so. Thou art a witness for me, Frank,
I took no great pains to gain this fine creature's heart; but it was
damn'd malicious though, to attempt to make discoveries. I see she is a
little piqued, but I'll set all to rights again with a _billet-doux_.
I've an excellent hand, though I say it, at a _billet-doux_. I never
knew one of mine fail in my life.
Harkee, sir, said Selvin, whispering: any more attempts to shift your
sentiments upon me, and you shall hear of it. In the mean time, be
assured, I'll clear myself, and put the saddle upon the right horse!
Demme, if thou art not a queer fellow, said Tinsel, endeavouring to
hide his discomposure at this threat under a forced laugh.
Selvin, without making any reply, retired to write to Arabella; which
Tinsel suspecting, resolved to be before-hand with him: and without
leaving the coffee-house, called for paper, and wrote a billet to her,
which he dispatched away immediately.
The messenger had just got admittance to Lucy, when another arrived
from Selvin.
They both presented their letters; but Lucy refused them, saying, her
lady would turn her away, if she received such sort of letters.
Such sort of letters! returned Tinsel's man. Why, do you know what they
contain, then?
To be sure I do, replied Lucy; they are love-letters; and my lady has
charged me never to receive any more.
Well, replied Selvin's servant, you may take my letter; for my master
desired me to tell you it was about business of consequence, which your
lady must be acquainted with.
Since you assure me it is not a love-letter, I'll take it, said Lucy.
And pray take mine too, said Tinsel's Mercury; for I assure you, it is
not a love-letter neither; it's only a _billet-doux_.
Are you sure of that? replied Lucy: because I may venture to take it, I
fancy, if it is what you say.
I'll swear it, said the man, delivering it to her. Well, said she,
receiving it, I'll take them both up. But what did you call this?
pursued she. I must not forget it, or else my lady will think it a
love-letter.
A _billet-doux_, said the man.
Lucy, for fear she should forget it, repeated the words _billet-doux_
several times as she went up stairs; but entering her lady's apartment,
she, perceiving the letters in her hand, asked her so sternly how she
durst presume to bring them into her presence, that the poor girl in
her fright forgot the lesson she had been conning; and endeavouring to
recall it into her memory, took no notice of her lady's question, which
she repeated several times, but to no purpose.
Arabella, surprised at her inattention, reiterated her commands in a
tone somewhat louder than usual; asking her at the same time, why she
did not obey her immediately?
Indeed, madam, replied Lucy, your ladyship would not order me to
take back the letters, if you knew what they were. They are not
love-letters: I was resolved to be sure of that before I took them.
This, madam, is a letter about business of consequence; and the
other----Oh dear! I can't think what the man called it! But it is not a
love-letter, indeed, madam.
You are a simple wench, said Arabella, smiling. You may depend upon
it, all letters directed to me must contain matters of love and
gallantry; and those I am not permitted to receive. Take them away then
immediately. But stay, pursued she, seeing she was about to obey her:
one of them, you say, was delivered to you as a letter of consequence.
Perhaps it is so: indeed, it may contain an advertisement of some
design to carry me away. How do I know but Mr. Selvin, incited by his
love and despair, may intend to make such an attempt? Give me that
letter, Lucy, I am resolved to open it. As for the other----yet, who
knows but the other may also bring me warning of the same danger from
another quarter! The pains Mr. Tinsel took to conceal his passion, nay,
almost as I think, to deny it, amounts to a proof that he is meditating
some way to make sure of me. It is certainly so. Give me that letter,
Lucy; I should be accessary to their intended violence, if I neglected
this timely discovery.
Well, cried she, taking one of the letters, this is exactly like what
happened to the beautiful princess of Cappadocia; who, like me, in one
and the same day, received advice that two of her lovers intended to
carry her off.
As she pronounced these words, Miss Glanville entered the room, to whom
Arabella immediately recounted the adventure of the letters; telling
her she did not doubt but that they contained a discovery of some
conspiracy to carry her away.
And whom does your ladyship suspect of such a strange design, pray?
said Miss Glanville, smiling.
At present, replied Arabella, the two cavaliers who walked with us
to-day are the persons who seem the most likely to attempt that
violence.
I dare answer for Mr. Tinsel, replied Miss Glanville: he thinks of no
such thing.
Well, said Arabella, to convince you of your mistake, I must inform
you, that Mr. Selvin, having the presumption to begin a declaration of
love to me on the parade this morning, I reproved him severely for his
want of respect, and threatened him with my displeasure. In the rage
of his jealousy, at seeing me treat Mr. Tinsel well, he discovered to
me that he also was as criminal as himself, in order to oblige me to a
severer usage of him.
So he told you Mr. Tinsel was in love with you? interrupted Miss
Glanville.
He told it me in other words, replied Arabella; for he said Mr. Tinsel
was guilty of that offence which I resented so severely to him.
Miss Glanville, beginning to comprehend the mystery, with great
difficulty forbore laughing at her cousin's mistake; for she well knew
the offence of which Mr. Selvin hinted at, and desirous of knowing what
those letters contained, she begged her to delay opening them no longer.
Arabella, pleased at her solicitude, opened one of the letters;
but glancing her eye to the bottom, and seeing the name of Selvin,
she threw it hastily upon the table, and averting her eyes, What a
mortification have I avoided! said she, that letter is from Selvin;
and, questionless, contains an avowal of his crime.
Nay, you must read it, cried Miss Glanville, taking it up; since you
have opened it, it is the same thing. You can never persuade him but
you have seen it. However, to spare your nicety, I'll read it to you.
Which accordingly she did, and found it as follows:--
"MADAM,
"I know not what insinuations have been made use of to
persuade you I was guilty of the offence which, with
justice, occasioned your resentment this morning; but
I assure you, nothing was ever more false. My thoughts
of your ladyship are very different, and full of the
profoundest respect and veneration. I have reason to
suspect Mr. Tinsel is the person who has thus endeavoured
to prejudice me with your ladyship; therefore I am
excusable if I tell you, that those very sentiments,
too disrespectful to be named, which he would persuade
you are mine, he discovered himself. He then, madam, is
the person guilty of that offence he so falsely lays to
the charge of him, who is, with the utmost respect and
esteem, madam, your ladyship's most obedient, and most
humble servant,
"F. SELVIN."
How's this? cried Miss Glanville. Why, madam, you are certainly
mistaken. You see Mr. Selvin utterly denies the crime of loving you. He
has suffered very innocently in your opinion. Indeed, your ladyship was
too hasty in condemning him.
If what he says be true, replied Arabella, who had been in extreme
confusion while a letter so different from what she expected was
reading, I have indeed unjustly condemned him. Nevertheless, I am still
inclined to believe this is all artifice; and that he is really guilty
of entertaining a passion for me.
But why should he take so much pains to deny it, madam? said Miss
Glanville. Methinks that looks very odd.
Not at all, interrupted Arabella, whose spirits were raised by
recollecting an adventure in a romance similar to this. Mr. Selvin has
fallen upon the very same stratagem with Seramenes; who being in love
with the beautiful Cleobuline, princess of Corinth, took all imaginable
pains to conceal his passion, in order to be near that fair princess;
who would have banished him from her presence, had she known he was in
love with her. Nay, he went so far in his dissimulation, as to pretend
love to one of the ladies of her court; that his passion for the
princess might be the less taken notice of. In these cases therefore,
the more resolutely a man denies his passion, the more pure and violent
it is.
Then Mr. Selvin's passion is certainly very violent, replied Miss
Glanville, for he denies it very resolutely; and I believe none but
your ladyship would have discovered his artifice. But shall we not open
the other letter? I have a strong notion it comes from Tinsel.
For that very reason I would not be acquainted with the contents,
replied Arabella. You see Mr. Selvin accuses him of being guilty
of that offence which he denies. I shall doubtless meet with a
confirmation of his love in that letter. Do not, I beseech you, added
she, seeing her cousin preparing to open the letter, expose me to the
pain of hearing a presumptuous declaration of love. Nay, pursued she,
rising in great emotion, if you are resolved to persecute me by reading
it, I'll endeavour to get out of the hearing of it.
You shan't, I declare, said Miss Glanville, laughing and holding her:
I'll oblige you to hear it.
I vow, cousin, said Arabella smiling, you use me just as the princess
Cleopatra did the fair and wise Antonia. However, if by this you mean
to do any kindness to the unfortunate person who wrote that billet,
you are greatly mistaken; since, if you oblige me to listen to a
declaration of his crime, you will lay me under a necessity to banish
him. A sentence he would have avoided, while I remained ignorant of it.
To this Miss Glanville made no other reply than by opening the billet,
the contents of which may be found in the following chapter.