“Oakly-park?--No, mamma; she said that she was very glad that I was with you; but she asked Miss Portman to come to see her whenever it was in her power.” “And could Miss Portman withstand such a temptation?” “You know that I am engaged to your ladyship,” said Belinda. Lady Delacour bowed. “But from what passed last night,” said she, “I was afraid that you might repent your engagement to me: and if so, I give up my bond. I should be miserable if I apprehended that any one, but more especially Miss Portman, felt herself a prisoner in my house.” “Dear Lady Delacour! I do not feel myself a prisoner; I have always till now felt myself a friend in your house; but we’ll talk of this another time. Do not look at me with so much coldness; do not speak to me with so much politeness. I will not let you forget that I am your friend.” “I do not wish to forget it, Belinda,” said Lady Delacour, with emotion; “I am not ungrateful, though I may seem capricious--bear with me.” “There now, you look like yourself again, and I am satisfied,” cried Belinda. “As to going to Oakly-park, I give you my word I have not the most distant thoughts of it. I stay with you from choice, and not from compulsion, believe me.” “I _do_ believe you,” said Lady Delacour; and for a moment she was convinced that Belinda stayed with her for her own sake alone; but the next minute she suspected that Lord Delacour was the secret cause of her refusing to go to Oakly-park. His lordship dined at home this day, and two or three succeeding days, and he was not intoxicated from Monday till Thursday. These circumstances appeared to his lady very extraordinary. In fact, he was pleased and amused with his little daughter, Helena; and whilst she was yet almost a stranger to him, he wished to appear to her in the most agreeable and respectable light possible. One day after dinner, Lord Delacour, who was in a remarkably good humour, said to her ladyship, “My dear, you know that your new carriage was broken almost to pieces the night when you were overturned. Well, I have had it all set to rights again, and new painted, and it is all complete, except the hammer-cloth, which must have new fringe. What colour will you have the fringe?” “What do you say, Miss Portman?” said her ladyship. “Black and orange would look well, I think,” said Belinda, “and would suit the lace of your liveries--would not it?” “Certainly: black and orange then,” said Lord Delacour, “it shall be.” “If you ask my opinion,” said Lady Delacour, “I am for blue and white, to match the cloth of the liveries.” “Blue and white then it shall be,” said Lord Delacour. “Nay, Miss Portman has a better taste than I have; and she says black and orange, my lord.” “Then you’ll have it black and orange, will you?” said Lord Delacour. “Just as you please,” said Lady Delacour, and no more passed.