“And can you think him a fool,” pursued Belinda, in a still more earnest whisper, “for being more jealous of your mind than of your person? Fools have seldom so much penetration, or so much delicacy.” “But, Lord! what would you have me do? what would you have me say? That Lord Delacour writes better letters than these?” “Oh, no! but show him these letters, and you will do justice to him, to yourself, to Cla----, to every body.” “I am sure I should be happy to do justice to _every body_.” “Then pray do this very instant, my dearest Lady Delacour! and I shall love you for it all my life.” “Done!--for who can withstand that offer?--Done!” said her ladyship. Then turning to Lord Delacour, “My lord, will you come here and tell us what can be the matter with this lock?” “If the lock be spoiled, Lady Delacour, you had better send for a locksmith,” replied his lordship, who was still employed about the wick of the Argand: “I am no locksmith--I do not pretend to understand locks--especially secret locks.” “But you will not desert us at our utmost need, I am sure, my lord,” said Belinda, approaching him with a conciliatory smile. “You want the light, I believe, more than I do,” said his lordship, advancing with the lamp to meet her. “Well! what is the matter with this confounded lock of yours, Lady Delacour? I know I should be at Studley’s by this time--but how in the devil’s name can you expect me to open a secret lock when I do not know the secret, Lady Delacour?” “Then I will tell you the secret, Lord Delacour--that there is no secret at all in the lock, or in the letters. Here, if you can stand the odious smell of ottar of roses, take these letters and read them, foolish man; and keep them till the shocking perfume is gone off.” Lord Delacour could scarcely believe his senses; he looked in Lady Delacour’s eyes to see whether he had understood her rightly. “But I am afraid,” said she, smiling, “that you will find the perfume too overcoming.” “Not half so overcoming,” cried he, seizing her hand, and kissing it often with eager tenderness, “not half so overcoming as this confidence, this kindness, this condescension from you.” “Miss Portman will think us both a couple of old fools,” said her ladyship, making a slight effort to withdraw her hand. “But she is almost as great a simpleton herself, I think,” continued she, observing that the tears stood in Belinda’s eyes. “My lord,” said a footman who came in at this instant, “do you dress? The carriage is at the door, as you ordered, to go to Lord Studley’s.” “I’d see Lord Studley at the devil, sir, and his burgundy along with him, before I’d go to him to-day; and you may tell him so, if you please,” cried Lord Delacour. “Very well, my lord,” said the footman.