Christian life; Great Britain -- Social life and customs -- Fiction; Young women -- Conduct of life -- Fiction
While my soi-disant friend encouraged my follies, no Mentor was at hand
to repress them. My father, mingling little in the circles which I
frequented, was ignorant of the encouragement which I gave to Lord
Frederick. Miss Mortimer, ill calculated to arrest the notice of the gay
and the giddy, was almost excluded from the endless invitations which
were addressed to me. The public amusements, which consumed so much of
my time, were unsuitable to her habits, to her principles, and to the
delicacy of her health. Thus she was seldom the witness of my
indiscretions. There is, indeed, no want of people who serve all
scandalous tales as the monasteries were wont to do poor strangers,
dress them out a little, and help them on their way. But these
charitable persons care not to consign a calumny to those who will
neither welcome nor advance it; and Miss Mortimer's declared aversion to
scandal kept her ignorant of some of the real, and much of the fabulous
history of her acquaintance. Accordingly, my intimacy with Lord
Frederick had, for almost three months, excited the smiles, the envy, or
the censure of 'every body one knows,' when Miss Mortimer was surprised
into hearing a copious account of my imprudence from a lady, who
declared 'that she was quite concerned to see that lovely girl, Miss
Percy, give so much occasion for censorious tales!' Who could doubt the
kindness of that concern which led her to detail my errors to my friend,
while she delicately forbore from hinting them to myself! My entrance
happening to interrupt her narrative, I heard her say, with great
emphasis,--'So very ridiculous, that I thought it an act of
friendship----' But, seeing me, she stopped; frowned very significantly
at Miss Mortimer; and then, resuming her complacency of countenance, she
accosted me in the most affectionate manner, protesting that she
rejoiced in being so fortunate as to meet with me. 'I was just telling
Miss Mortimer,' said she, 'that I never saw you look so lovely as when
you were delighting us all with that divine concerto upon the harp last
night.' In the same style she ran on for about three minutes; then
declaring, that she always forgot how time went when she was visiting
us, she hurried away; first, however, repeating her frown to Miss
Mortimer, accompanied with a cautioning shake of the head.
I turned towards my real friend, and observed that she was looking on me
through rising tears. We were alone, and I think I was always less
indocile, less unamiable, when there were few witnesses of my behaviour.
Touched with the affectionate concern that was painted in her face,
before I knew what I was doing, I had locked her hand in mine, and had
enquired 'what was the matter with my good friend?'
'My dearest Ellen,' returned she, and her mild eyes filled again, 'would
you but allow me to be your friend! But I will not talk to you now. That
prating woman has discomposed me.'
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
Reviews
Reviews
No reviews yet
Be the first to share your thoughts on this work.
Join the Discussion
Join the discussion
Sign in to leave a comment or review.
Sign InorCreate an account