“Mr. Hervey knows how to flatter. I never had that ingenuous countenance, even in my best days: but certainly the hair of her head is like mine--and her hands and arms. But why do you tremble, Helena? Is there any thing so very terrible in the looks of your mother?” “No, only------” “Only what, my dear?” “Only--I was afraid--you might not like me.” “Who has filled your little foolish head with these vain fears? Come, simpleton, kiss me, and tell me how comes it that you are not at Oakly-hall, or--What’s the name of the place?--Oakly-park?” “Lady Anne Percival would not take me out of town, she said, whilst you were ill; because she thought that you might wish--I mean she thought that I should like to see you--if you pleased.” “Lady Anne is very good--very obliging--very considerate.” “She is _very_ good-natured,” said Helena. “You love this Lady Anne Percival, I perceive.” “Oh, yes, that I do. She has been so kind to me! I love her as if she were----” “As if she _were_--What? finish your sentence.” “My mother,” said Helena, in a low voice, and she blushed. “You love her as well as if she were your mother,” repeated Lady Delacour: “that is intelligible: speak intelligibly whatever you say, and never leave a sentence unfinished.” “No, ma’am.” “Nothing can be more ill-bred, nor more absurd; for it shows that you have the wish without the power to conceal your sentiments. Pray, my dear,” continued Lady Delacour, “go to Oakly-park immediately--all farther ceremony towards me may be spared.” “Ceremony, mamma!” said the little girl, and the tears came into her eyes. Belinda sighed; and for some moments there was a dead silence. “I mean only to say, Miss Portman,” resumed Lady Delacour, “that I hate ceremony: but I know that there are people in the world who love it, who think all virtue, and all affection, depend on ceremony--who are ‘Content to dwell in _decencies_ for ever.’ I shall not dispute their merits. Verily, they have their reward in the good opinion and good word of all little minds, that is to say, of above half the world. I envy them not their hard-earned fame. Let ceremony curtsy to ceremony with Chinese decorum; but, when ceremony expects to be paid with affection, I beg to be excused.” “Ceremony sets no value upon affection, and therefore would not desire to be paid with it,” said Belinda. “Never yet,” continued lady Delacour, pursuing the train of her own thoughts without attending to Belinda, “never yet was any thing like real affection won by any of these ceremonious people.”