The very moment we had done what he called our duty, I eagerly desired to return to Mrs. Mirvan.
“To your partner, I presume, Madam?” said he, very gravely.
This quite confounded me. I dreaded lest this mischievous man ignorant of his rank, should address himself to Lord Orville, and say something which might expose my artifice. Fool! to involve myself in such difficulties! I now feared what I had before wished; and therefore, to avoid Lord Orville, I was obliged myself to propose going down another dance, though I was ready to sink with shame while I spoke.
“But your partner, Ma’am?” said he, affecting a very solemn air, “perhaps he may resent my detaining you: if you will give me leave to ask his consent —”
“Not for the universe.”
“Who is he, Madam?”
I wished myself a hundred miles off. He repeated his question, “What is his name?”
“Nothing — nobody — I don’t know —”
He assumed a most important solemnity: “How! — not know? — Give me leave, my dear Madam, to recommend this caution to you: Never dance in public with a stranger — with one whose name you are unacquainted with — who may be a mere adventurer — a man of no character, consider to what impertinence you may expose yourself.”
Was ever anything so ridiculous? I could not help laughing, in spite of my vexation.
At this instant, Mrs. Mirvan, followed by Lord Orville, walked up to us. You will easily believe it was not difficult for me to recover my gravity; but what was my consternation, when this strange man, destined to be the scourge of my artifice, exclaimed, “Ha! My Lord Orville! — I protest I did not know your Lordship. What can I say for my usurpation? — Yet, faith, my Lord, such a prize was not to be neglected.”
My shame and confusion were unspeakable. Who could have supposed or foreseen that this man knew Lord Orville? But falsehood is not more unjustifiable than unsafe.
Lord Orville — well he might — looked all amazement.
“The philosophic coldness of your Lordship,” continued this odious creature, “every man is not endowed with. I have used my utmost endeavours to entertain this lady, though I fear without success; and your lordship will not be a little flattered, if acquainted with the difficulty which attended my procuring the honour of only one dance.” Then, turning to me, who was sinking with shame, while Lord Orville stood motionless, and Mrs. Mirvan astonished — he suddenly seized my hand, saying, “Think, my Lord, what must be my reluctance to resign this fair hand to your Lordship!”
In the same instant, Lord Orville took it of him; I coloured violently, and made an effort to recover it. “You do me too much honour, Sir,” cried he, (with an air of gallantry, pressing it to his lips before he let it go;) “however, I shall be happy to profit by it, if this lady,” turning to Mrs. Mirvan, “will permit me to seek for her party.”
To compel him thus to dance, I could not endure; and eagerly called out, “By no means — not for the world! — I must beg —”
“Will you honour me, Madam, with your commands,” cried my tormentor; “may I seek the lady’s party?”
“No, Sir,” answered I, turning from him.
“What shall be done, my dear?” said Mrs. Mirvan.
“Nothing, Ma’am; — anything, I mean —”
“But do you dance, or not? you see his Lordship waits.”
“I hope not — I beg that — I would not for the world — I am sure I ought to — to —”
I could not speak; but that confident man, determining to discover whether or not I had deceived him, said to Lord Orville, who stood suspended, “My Lord, this affair, which at present seems perplexed, I will briefly explain:— this lady proposed to me another dance — nothing could have made me more happy — I only wished for your Lordship’s permission; which, if now granted, will, I am persuaded, set everything right.”
I glowed with indignation. “No, Sir — it is your absence, and that alone, can set everything right.”
“For Heaven’s sake, my dear,” cried Mrs. Mirvan, who could no longer contain her surprise, “what does all this mean? — were you pre-engaged? — had Lord Orville —”
“No, Madam,” cried I, “only — only I did not know that gentleman — and so-and so I thought — I intended — I—”
Overpowered by all that had passed, I had not strength to make my mortifying explanation; — my spirits quite failed me, and I burst into tears.
They all seemed shocked and amazed.
“What is the matter, my dearest love?” cried Mrs. Mirvan, with kindest concern.
“What have I done!” exclaimed my evil genius, and ran officiously for a glass of water.
However, a hint was sufficient for Lord Orville, who comprehended all I would have explained. He immediately led me to a seat, and said in a low voice, “Be not distressed, I beseech you: I shall ever think my name honoured by your making use of it.”
This politeness relieved me. A general murmur had alarmed Miss Mirvan, who flew instantly to me; while Lord Orville the moment Mrs. Mirvan had taken the water, led my tormentor away.
“For Heaven’s sake, dear Madam,” cried I, “let me go home; — indeed I cannot stay here any longer.”
“Let us all go,” cried my kind Maria.
“But the Captain, what will he say — I had better go home in a chair.”
Mrs. Mirvan consented, and I rose to depart. Lord Orville and that man both came to me. The first, with an attention I but ill-merited from him, led me to a chair; while the other followed, pestering me with apologies. I wished to have made mine to Lord Orville, but was too much ashamed.
It was about one o’clock. Mrs. Mirvan’s servants saw me home.
And now — what again shall ever tempt me to an assembly? I dread to hear what you will think of me, my most dear and honoured Sir: you will need your utmost partiality to receive me without displeasure.
This morning Lord Orville has sent to inquire after our health; and Sir Clement Willoughby, for that, I find, is the name of my persecutor, has called; but I would not go down stairs till he was gone.
And now, my dear Sir, I can somewhat account for the strange, provoking, and ridiculous conduct of this Sir Clement last night; for Miss Mirvan says he is the very man with whom she heard Lord Orville conversing at Mrs. Stanley’s, when I was spoken of in so mortifying a manner. He was pleased to say he was glad to hear I was a fool; and therefore, I suppose, he concluded he might talk as much nonsense as he pleased to me: however, I am very indifferent as to his opinion; — but for Lord Orville — if then he thought me an idiot, now, I am sure, he must suppose me both bold and presuming. Make use of his name! — what impertinence
