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"I am engaged," said Clarence, hesitating and laughing "I am unfortunately engaged to-day to dine with Mr. Rochfort and Sir Philip Baddely, and in the evening I am to be at Lady Delacour's." "Lady Delacour! Not the same Lady Delacour whom four years ago, when we met at Florence, you compared to the Venus de Medici no, no, it cannot be the same a goddess of four years' standing! Incredible!"
I have no wish to pass whole nights composing sonnets. Here the conversation ended; Clarence took his leave, and Mrs. Margaret Delacour said, the moment he had left the room, "Quite a different sort of young man from what I had expected to see!" The next morning Mr. Hervey called on Dr. X , and begged that he would accompany him to Lady Delacour's.
Hervey's business, for she saw the glass globe containing Helena Delacour's gold fishes standing on the table beside him. "I have been commissioned to present these to you for Lady Delacour," said Mr. Hervey, "and I have seldom received a commission that has given me so much pleasure. I perceive that Miss Portman is indeed a real friend to Lady Delacour how happy she is to have such a friend!"
I now understand what was once said to me by a foolish lordling: Of what use is the sun to the dial?" Company came in, and relieved Belinda from any further raillery. Lady Boucher and Mrs. Margaret Delacour were, amongst a large party, to dine at Lady Delacour's.
But his wife returned no more. Presently Marion's own play was revived with success. It was one of Delacour's greatest parts. And Marion went to see it, hidden behind the curtains of her box. The years since she had last sat in that box had not dealt kindly with her.
The idea that whilst she appeared as Lady Delacour's friend she ought not to propagate any stories to her disadvantage, operated powerfully upon Belinda's mind, and she reproached herself for having told even her aunt what she had seen in private. She thought that she had been guilty of treachery, and she wrote again immediately to Mrs.
Belinda looked up, and between the heads of the dancers she just caught a glimpse of a well-known livery. "Good heavens!" she exclaimed, "Lady Delacour's carriage! Can it be Lady Delacour?" The carriage stopped, and Marriott hastily jumped out of it. Belinda pressed forward to meet her; poor Marriott was in great agitation: "Oh, Miss Portman! my poor lady is very ill very ill, indeed.
The next morning they went together to Mrs. Delacour's. In their way thither, Belinda, to divert her own thoughts, and to rouse Lady Delacour from the profound and unnatural silence into which she had fallen, petitioned her to finish the history of Sir Philip Baddely, the dog, Miss Annabella Luttridge, and her billet-doux.
Now it happened that this billet-doux was received on the very day appointed for Lady Delacour's last interview with the quack surgeon in the mysterious boudoir. Marriott, as it was her custom upon such occasions, let the surgeon in, and showed him up the back stairs into the boudoir, locked the door, and bade him wait there till her lady came.
Delacour, addressing herself to Miss Portman with some formality, but much dignity, "permit me, as one of my Lord Delacour's nearest relations now living, to return you my thanks for having, as my nephew informs me, exerted your influence over Lady Delacour for the happiness of his family.
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