The exploit was, however, by no means agreeable in its consequences to her friend Mrs. Luttridge, who was now at Harrowgate. For reasons of her own, she was very anxious to fix Mr. Vincent in her society, and she was much provoked by Mrs. Freke’s conduct. The ladies came to high words upon the occasion, and an irreparable breach would have ensued had not Mrs. Freke, in the midst of her rage, recollected Mrs. Luttridge’s electioneering interest: and suddenly changing her tone, she declared that “she was really sorry to have driven Mr. Vincent from Harrowgate; that her only intention was to get rid of his black; she would lay any wager, that, with Mrs. Luttridge’s assistance, they could soon get the gentleman back again;” and she proposed, as a certain method of fixing Mr. Vincent in Mrs. Luttridge’s society, to invite Belinda to Harrowgate. “You may be sure,” said Mrs. Freke, “that she must by this time be cursedly tired of her visit to those stupid good people at Oakly-park, and never woman _wanted_ an excuse to do any thing she liked: so trust to her own ingenuity to make some decent apology to the Percivals for running away from them. As to Vincent, you may be sure Belinda Portman is his only inducement for staying with that precious family-party; and if we have her we have him. Now we can be sure of her, for she has just quarrelled with our dear Lady Delacour. I had the whole story from my maid, who had it from Champfort. Lady Delacour and she are at daggers-drawing, and it will be delicious to her to hear her ladyship handsomely abused. We are the declared enemies of her enemy, so we must be her friends. Nothing unites folk so quickly and so solidly, as hatred of some common foe.” This argument could not fail to convince Mrs. Luttridge, and the next day Mrs. Freke commenced her operations. She drove in her _unicorn_ to Oakly-park to pay Miss Portman a visit. She had no acquaintance either with Mr. Percival or Lady Anne, and she had always treated Belinda, when she met her in town, rather cavalierly, as an humble companion of Lady Delacour. But it cost Mrs. Freke nothing to change her tone: she was one of those ladies who can remember or forget people, be perfectly familiar or strangely rude, just as it suits the convenience, fashion, or humour of the minute. CHAPTER XVII. RIGHTS OF WOMAN. Belinda was alone, and reading, when Mrs. Freke dashed into the room. “How do, dear creature?” cried she, stepping up to her, and shaking hands with her boisterously--“How do?--Glad to see you, faith!--Been long here?--Tremendously hot to-day!” She flung herself upon the sofa beside Belinda, threw her hat upon the table, and then continued speaking.