Chapter xii.
In which the thirteenth book is concluded.
The elegant Lord Shaftesbury somewhere objects to telling too muchtruth: by which it may be fairly inferred, that, in some cases, to lieis not only excusable but commendable.
And surely there are no persons who may so properly challenge a rightto this commendable deviation from truth, as young women in the affairof love; for which they may plead precept, education, and above all,the sanction, nay, I may say the necessity of custom, by which theyare restrained, not from submitting to the honest impulses of nature(for that would be a foolish prohibition), but from owning them.
We are not, therefore, ashamed to say, that our heroine now pursuedthe dictates of the above-mentioned right honourable philosopher. Asshe was perfectly satisfied then, that Lady Bellaston was ignorant ofthe person of Jones, so she determined to keep her in that ignorance,though at the expense of a little fibbing.
Jones had not been long gone, before Lady Bellaston cryed, "Upon myword, a good pretty young fellow; I wonder who he is; for I don'tremember ever to have seen his face before."
"Nor I neither, madam," cries Sophia. "I must say he behaved veryhandsomely in relation to my note."
"Yes; and he is a very handsome fellow," said the lady: "don't youthink so?"
"I did not take much notice of him," answered Sophia, "but I thoughthe seemed rather awkward, and ungenteel than otherwise."
"You are extremely right," cries Lady Bellaston: "you may see, by hismanner, that he hath not kept good company. Nay, notwithstanding hisreturning your note, and refusing the reward, I almost questionwhether he is a gentleman.----I have always observed there is asomething in persons well born, which others can never acquire.----Ithink I will give orders not to be at home to him."
"Nay, sure, madam," answered Sophia, "one can't suspect after what hehath done;--besides, if your ladyship observed him, there was anelegance in his discourse, a delicacy, a prettiness of expressionthat, that----"
"I confess," said Lady Bellaston, "the fellow hath words----Andindeed, Sophia, you must forgive me, indeed you must."
"I forgive your ladyship!" said Sophia.
"Yes, indeed you must," answered she, laughing; "for I had a horriblesuspicion when I first came into the room----I vow you must forgiveit; but I suspected it was Mr Jones himself."
"Did your ladyship, indeed?" cries Sophia, blushing, and affecting alaugh.
"Yes, I vow I did," answered she. "I can't imagine what put it into myhead: for, give the fellow his due, he was genteely drest; which, Ithink, dear Sophy, is not commonly the case with your friend."
"This raillery," cries Sophia, "is a little cruel, Lady Bellaston,after my promise to your ladyship."
"Not at all, child," said the lady;----"It would have been cruelbefore; but after you have promised me never to marry without yourfather's consent, in which you know is implied your giving up Jones,sure you can bear a little raillery on a passion which was pardonableenough in a young girl in the country, and of which you tell me youhave so entirely got the better. What must I think, my dear Sophy, ifyou cannot bear a little ridicule even on his dress? I shall begin tofear you are very far gone indeed; and almost question whether youhave dealt ingenuously with me."
"Indeed, madam," cries Sophia, "your ladyship mistakes me, if youimagine I had any concern on his account."
"On his account!" answered the lady: "You must have mistaken me; Iwent no farther than his dress;----for I would not injure your tasteby any other comparison--I don't imagine, my dear Sophy, if your MrJones had been such a fellow as this--"
"I thought," says Sophia, "your ladyship had allowed him to behandsome"----
"Whom, pray?" cried the lady hastily.
"Mr Jones," answered Sophia;--and immediately recollecting herself,"Mr Jones!--no, no; I ask your pardon;--I mean the gentleman who wasjust now here."
"O Sophy! Sophy!" cries the lady; "this Mr Jones, I am afraid, stillruns in your head."
"Then, upon my honour, madam," said Sophia, "Mr Jones is as entirelyindifferent to me, as the gentleman who just now left us."
"Upon my honour," said Lady Bellaston, "I believe it. Forgive me,therefore, a little innocent raillery; but I promise you I will nevermention his name any more."
And now the two ladies separated, infinitely more to the delight ofSophia than of Lady Bellaston, who would willingly have tormented herrival a little longer, had not business of more importance called heraway. As for Sophia, her mind was not perfectly easy under this firstpractice of deceit; upon which, when she retired to her chamber, shereflected with the highest uneasiness and conscious shame. Nor couldthe peculiar hardship of her situation, and the necessity of the case,at all reconcile her mind to her conduct; for the frame of her mindwas too delicate to bear the thought of having been guilty of afalsehood, however qualified by circumstances. Nor did this thoughtonce suffer her to close her eyes during the whole succeeding night.
BOOK XIV.
CONTAINING TWO DAYS.