"Not be at the assembly?" cried Mrs. Selwyn, "Why, have you, too,
letters to write?"
She looked at me with a significant archness, that made me colour;
and I hastily answered, "No, indeed, Ma'am!"
"You have not!" cried she, yet more drily; "then pray, my dear,
do you stay at home to help,-or to hinder others?"
"To do neither, Ma'am," answered I, in much confusion; "so, if you
please, I will not stay at home."
"You allow me, then," said Sir Clement, "to hope for the honour of
your hand?"
I only bowed,-for the dread of Mrs. Selwyn's raillery made me not
dare refuse him.
Soon after this we walked home: Sir Clement accompanied us; and the
conversation that passed between Mrs. Selwyn and him was supported
in so lively a manner, that I should have been much entertained,
had my mind been more at ease: but, alas! I could think of nothing
but the capricious, the unmeaning appearance which the alteration
in my conduct must make in the eyes of the Lord Orville! And much
as I wished to avoid him, greatly as I desire to save myself from
having my weakness known to him,-yet I cannot endure to incur his ill
opinion,-and, unacquainted as he is with the reasons by which I am
actuated, how can he fail contemning a change to him so unaccountable?
As we entered the garden, he was the first object we saw. He advanced
to meet us; and I could not help observing, that at sight of each
other both he and Sir Clement changed colour.
We went into the parlour, where we found the same party we had
left. Mrs. Selwyn presented Sir Clement to Mrs. Beaumont; Lady Louisa
and Lord Merton he seemed well acquainted with already.
The conversation was upon the general subjects, of the weather,
the company at the Wells, and the news of the day. But Sir Clement,
drawing his chair next to mine, took every opportunity of addressing
himself to me in particular.
I could not but remark the striking difference of his attention, and
that of Lord Orville: the latter has such gentleness of manners, such
delicacy of conduct, and an air so respectful, that, when he flatters
most, he never distresses; and when he most confers honour, appears
to receive it! The former obtrudes his attention, and forces mine;
it is so pointed, that it always confuses me, and so public, that it
attracts general notice. Indeed I have sometimes thought that he would
rather wish, than dislike to have his partiality for me known, as he
takes great care to prevent my being spoken to by any but himself.
When at length he went away, Lord Orville took his seat, and said,
with a half smile, "Shall I call Sir Clement,-or will you call me
an usurper for taking this place?-You make me no answer?-Must I then
suppose that Sir Clement-"
"It is little worth your Lordship's while," said I, "to suppose any
thing upon so insignificant an occasion."
"Pardon me," cried he;-"to me nothing is insignificant in which you
are concerned."
To this I made no answer; neither did he say any thing more, till the
ladies retired to dress: and then, when I would have followed them,
he stopped me, saying, "One moment, I entreat you!"
I turned back, and he went on, "I greatly fear that I have been so
unfortunate as to offend you; yet so repugnant to my very soul is the
idea, that I know not how to suppose it possible I can unwittingly have
done the thing in the world that, designedly, I would wish to avoid."
"No, indeed, my Lord, you have not," said I.
"You sigh!" cried he, taking my hand, "would to Heaven I were
the sharer of your uneasiness, whencesoever it springs! with what
earnestness would I not struggle to alleviate it!-Tell me, my dear Miss
Anville,-my new-adopted sister, my sweet and most amiable friend!-tell
me, I beseech you, if I can afford you any assistance?"
"None, none, my Lord!" cried I, withdrawing my hand, and moving
towards the door.
"Is it then impossible I can serve you?-Perhaps you wish to see
Mr. Macartney again?"
"No, my Lord." And I held the door open.
"I am not, I own, sorry for that. Yet, oh! Miss Anville, there is a
question,-there is a conjecture,-I know not how to mention, because I
dread the result!-But I see you are in haste;-perhaps in the evening
I may have the honour of a longer conversation.-Yet one thing, will
you have the goodness to allow me to ask?-Did you, this morning,
when you went to the Wells,-did you know whom you should meet there?"
"Who, my Lord?"
"I beg your pardon a thousand times for a curiosity so unlicensed;-but
I will say no more at present."
He bowed, expecting me to go;-and then, with quick steps, but
a heavy heart, I came to my own room. His question, I am sure,
meant Sir Clement Willoughby; and had I not imposed upon myself the
severe task of avoiding, flying Lord Orville, with all my power, I
would instantly have satisfied him of my ignorance of Sir Clement's
journey. And yet more did I long to say something of the assembly,
since I found he depended upon my spending the evening at home.
I did not go down stairs again till the family was assembled to
dinner. My dress, I saw, struck Lord Orville with astonishment; and
I was myself so much ashamed of appearing whimsical and unsteady,
that I could not look up.
"I understood," said Mrs. Beaumont, "that Miss Anville did not go
out this evening."
"Her intention in the morning," said Mrs. Selwyn, "was to stay at
home; but there is a fascinating power in an assembly, which, upon
second thoughts, is not to be resisted."
"The assembly!" cried Lord Orville; "are you then going to the
assembly?"