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"Why I really have a great deal of discretion," said Lady Delacour; "but you trust too much to it when you expect that I should execute, both with propriety and success, the delicate commission of telling a young lady, who is under my protection, that a young gentleman, who is a professed admirer of mine, is in love with her, but has no thoughts, and wishes to suggest no thoughts, of marriage."
Arquebusade, for your lady, directly!" cried his lordship, following her to the door of the boudoir, where she was going for some drops. "Oh, my lord, you can't come in, I assure you, my lord, there's nothing here, my lord, nothing of the sort," said Marriott, setting her back against the door. Her terror and embarrassment instantly recalled all the jealous suspicions of Lord Delacour.
His lordship, who was a humane man, was somewhat moved by this appeal to his remaining senses, and he began roaring as loud as he possibly could for arquebusade. Lady Delacour rested her head upon the back of the sofa, her hands moved with convulsive twitches she was perfectly silent.
It was her exaggerations that made Lady Delacour believe, when Belinda repeated what she had said, that this report was universally known and credited; her own suspicions were by these means again awakened, and her jealousy and rage were raised to such a pitch, that, no longer mistress of herself, she insulted her friend and guest. Miss Portman was then obliged to do the very thing that Mrs.
"Helena," said he, "how is your mother?" "I don't know. Oh, papa, you cannot go in there now," said Helena, stopping him as he was pressing forwards. "Why did not you or Miss Portman write to me yesterday, as you promised?" said Lord Delacour, in a voice that showed he was scarcely able to ask the question. "Because, papa, we had nothing to tell you: nothing was done yesterday.
Where's Miss Portman?" "Here we are you shall be carried quite safely trust to me," said Belinda, in a firm tone, "and do not struggle." Lady Delacour submitted: she was in agonizing pain, but her fortitude was so great that she never uttered a groan. It was the constraint which she had put upon herself, by endeavouring not to scream, which threw her into convulsions.
"My dear Miss Hartley," continued Lady Delacour, "in plain prose, to prevent all difficulties and embarrassments, I must inform you, that Captain Sunderland will not insist upon prompt payment of your father's debt of gratitude: he has but one quarter of an hour to spend with us he is actually under sailing orders; so that you will have time to compose your mind before his return.
"But it is so difficult to get at facts, even about the merest trifles," said Lady Delacour. "Actions we see, but their causes we seldom see an aphorism worthy of Confucius himself: now to apply. Pray, my dear Helena, how came you by the pretty gold fishes that you were so good as to send to me yesterday?" "Lady Anne Percival gave them to me, ma'am."
Why, Miss Wright, it's an inspiration. Gets him the whole sympathy just at the critical moment. And what a curtain! Good God! What a curtain!" "Isn't it?" said Lenore. "Leave out my bit at the end altogether, and make that the curtain. Don't you agree, Miss Wright? And, look here, Mr. Delacour, take the front centre here." "Start again at 'falsehood," said the manager briskly to Lenore.
"Now, Lord Delacour, besides being a man of honour, is also a man of humanity. I know that I cannot oblige you more, my dear Belinda, than by seasoning my discourse with a little conjugal flattery. My lord was concerned to see the poor black writhing in pain; and with the assistance of the gentleman who had joined in his defence, he brought Juba across the square to our house.
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