“Pardon me,” interrupted Lady Delacour; “there you are quite mistaken: the man of Belinda’s choice _must_ receive my congratulations; he must do more--he must become my friend I would never rest till I had won his regard, nor should I in the least be apprehensive that he would not have sufficient greatness of mind to forgive my having treated him with a degree of sincerity which the common forms of politeness cannot justify, and at which common souls would be scandalized past recovery.” Mr. Vincent’s pride was entirely vanquished by this speech; and with that frankness by which his manners were usually characterized, he thanked her for having distinguished him from _common souls_; and assured her that such sincerity as hers was infinitely more to his taste than that refined politeness of which he was aware no one was more perfect mistress than Lady Delacour. Here their conversation ended, and Mr. Vincent, as it was now late, took his leave. “Really, my dear Belinda,” said Lady Delacour, when he was gone, “I am not surprised at your impatience to return to Oakly-park; I am not so partial to my knight, as to compare him, in personal accomplishments, with your hero. I acknowledge, also, that there is something vastly prepossessing in the frankness of his manners; he has behaved admirably well about this abominable letter; but, what is better than all in a lady’s eyes he is _éperdument amoureux_.” “Not _éperdument_, I hope,” said Belinda. “Then, as you do not think it necessary for your hero to be _éperdument amoureux_, I presume,” said Lady Delacour, “you do not think it necessary that a heroine should be in love at all. So love and marriage are to be separated by philosophy, as well as by fashion. This is Lady Anne Percival’s doctrine! I give Mr. Percival joy. I remember the time, when he fancied love essential to happiness.” “I believe he not only fancies, but is sure of it now, from experience,” said Belinda. “Then he interdicts love only to his friends? He does not think it essential that you should know any thing about the matter. You may marry his ward, and welcome, without being in love with him.” “But not without loving him,” said Belinda. “I am not casuist enough in these matters to understand the subtle distinction you make, with the true Percival emphasis, between loving and falling in love. But I suppose I am to understand by loving, loving as half the world do when they marry.” “As it would be happy for half the world if they did,” replied Belinda, mildly, but with a firmness of tone that her ladyship felt. “I should despise myself and deserve no pity from any human being, if, after all I have seen, I could think of marrying for convenience or interest.” “Oh! pardon me; I meant not to insinuate such an idea: even your worst enemy, Sir Philip Baddely, would acquit you there. I meant but to hint, my dear Belinda, that a heart such as yours is formed for love in its highest, purest, happiest state.” A pause ensued.