“Spare me your indignation, my dear!--What a look was there!--Reasoning for Mrs. Stanhope, must not I reason as Mrs. Stanhope does?--Now I will put this stronger still. Suppose that you had actually acknowledged that Mr. Vincent had got beyond esteem with you; suppose that you had in due form consented to marry him; suppose that preparations were at this moment making for the wedding; even in that desperate case I should say to you, you are not a girl to marry because your wedding-gown is made up. Some few guineas are thrown away, perhaps; do not throw away your whole happiness after them--that would be sorry economy. Trust me, my dear, I should say, as I have to you, in time of need. Or, if you fear to be obliged to one who never was afraid of being obliged to you, ten to one the preparations for _a_ wedding, though not _the_ wedding, may be necessary immediately. No matter to Mrs. Franks who the bridegroom may be; so that her bill be paid, she would not care the turning of a feather whether it be paid by Mrs. Vincent or Mrs. Hervey. I hope I have convinced, I am sure I have made you blush, my dear, and that is some satisfaction. A blush at this moment is an earnest of victory. Lo, triumphe! Now I will open my packet; my hand shall not be held an instant longer.” “I absolve you from the penance of hearing me for an hour, but I claim your promise to attend to me for a few minutes, my dear friend,” said Belinda: “I thank you most sincerely for your kindness; and let me assure you that I should not hesitate to accept from you any species of obligation.” “Thanks! thanks!--there’s a dear good girl!--my own Belinda!” “But indeed you totally misunderstand me; your reasoning--” “Show me the fault of it: I challenge all the logic of all the Percivals.” “Your reasoning is excellent, if your facts were not taken for granted. You have taken it for granted, that Mr. Hervey is in love with me.” “No,” said Lady Delacour; “I take nothing for granted, as you will find when I open this packet.” “You have taken it for granted,” continued Belinda, “that I am still secretly attached to him; and you take it for granted that I am restrained only by fear of Lady Anne Percival, my aunt, and the world, from breaking off with Mr. Vincent: if you will read the letter, which I was writing to him when you came into the room, perhaps you will be convinced of your mistake.” “Read a letter to Mr. Vincent at such a time as this! then I will go and read my packet in my own room,” cried Lady Delacour, rising hastily, with evident displeasure. “Not even your displeasure, my dear friend,” said Belinda, “can alter my determination to behave with consistency and openness towards Mr. Vincent; and I can bear your anger, for I know it arises from your regard for me.” “I never loved you so little as at this instant, Belinda.” “You will do me justice when you are cool.”