In which our heroine is in great distress.
In the mean time the young lord, having an extreme curiosity to see the man whom he suspected to be his rival, followed Mr. Damer down the street, and had a full view of him as he crossed into another; he found he was young, and had an agreeable air, but there was a kind of pensiveness on his countenance, that did not seem to suit with the condition of a favoured lover. He readily admitted this thought, because it favoured his own wishes; he reflected on what he had heard from the communicative miss Woodby, and concluded he had no reason to despair.
A young woman eloped from her relations, with no body about her of authority enough to control or direct her actions; these were very favourable circumstances for a man of intrigue: and he resolved to be no longer kept at a distance by a reserve, which he imputed either to affectation or artifice, and which a suitable share of boldness could only overcome.
Having settled the plan of his operations with Mrs. Eccles, whom he had strongly engaged in his interests, he retired to his own lodgings; for those he had at the millener’s were only hired to facilitate his designs upon miss Courteney.
That young lady finding herself free from his intrusion, and being less disgusted with Mrs. Eccles’s behaviour than usual, who was very much upon her guard, and had her reasons for being so, passed the day with more tranquillity of mind than her situation had hitherto permitted, and condescended, at Mrs. Eccles’s intreaty, to spend two hours with her after supper at piquet.30
In the mean time his lordship had conveyed himself into a closet in her apartment, and about eleven o’clock saw the unsuspecting fair one enter with a candle in her hand, and, after cautiously fastening the door, sit down composedly to read.
Her beauty, which was of that sort, which inspires respect as well as love, the innocence of her deportment, her security amidst that danger which threatened her, excited sentiments that made him half ashamed of his design. Charmed with beholding her in so agreeable an attitude, her fair face reclined on one of her hands, her elbow leaning on the table, her book in the other hand, which she seemed intently to read, he opened the closet-door a little way, that he might have the pleasure of contemplating her at leisure.
This motion was not unobserved by Henrietta; she raised her eyes off her book, which made him hastily pull the door close again. Henrietta, now convinced that there was somebody in her closet, started up, and, dropping her book, cried out aloud for help. His lordship immediately rushed out of the closet, threw himself at her feet, and begged her not to be frightened. Indignation succeeded to terror; her face, which was all pale and wan before, was now crimsoned over; her eyes shot indignant flashes at the insolent invader; but, in a moment, recollecting the danger she was exposed to, again her face was overspread with paleness, and an universal trembling seized her. The young lord, who observed the beautiful emotion, and was beginning to be shocked at the boldness of his attempt, again conjured her not to be afraid, and vowed he would leave her room: but Henrietta, on whom these assurances made no impression, sprung from him to the window, and, throwing up the sash, cried out as loud as she was able.
“Miss Courteney,” said he, rising, but keeping at a distance for fear of alarming her more, “do not indiscreetly expose yourself, I swear by Heaven I will leave your room.”
“What!” cried she, amazed to the last degree to hear him pronounce her name; “you know me then, and yet have dared to insult me thus—But leave me, my lord, this instant leave me, or I will raise the neighbourhood by my cries.”
“Charming creature,” said his lordship, looking on her with tenderness and awe, “I do know you, and I know your virtue now; I will leave you: believe me I am sorry for the terror I have put you into; grant me a moment’s audience to-morrow; I have something to say to you that will convince you I am desirous of meriting your pardon.”
He then bowed respectfully and, unlocking the door, went down stairs; Henrietta all the time keeping close to the window, that she might be ready to call for help, if he shewed any design of staying in her apartment; nor till she heard him enter his own, and shut the door after him, durst she venture from her post to secure her door, which she did with the utmost precipitation, making it as fast as she could; and then shutting her window, for her cries had not been heard, she passed the night in a chair, resolving not to go to bed any more in that house.
The dangers she was exposed to, made her almost repent of having fled from her aunt’s tyranny; and mortified as she was by such shocking insults, she thought it would have been a less misfortune to be the wife of sir Isaac Darby, or the inmate of a gloomy convent, than the avowed object of a libertine’s passion.
Surprised as she was that my lord was acquainted with her name, and anxious to know by what means he had made the discovery, yet it never once occurred to her that miss Woodby had betrayed her. Her generous mind was incapable of suggesting such a suspicion, and she was even doubtful whether Mrs. Eccles was privy to his insolent attempt: so difficult it is for innocence to fathom the depths of guilt.
Amidst the melancholy reflections which her situation gave rise to, she drew some consolation from Mr. Darner’s friendly concern for her. She resolved to go to him in the morning, and claim his promise of settling her immediately with one of his father’s friends, yet without revealing the mortifying treatment she had been exposed to, and from which she had extricated herself: for true virtue blushes to own its conquests, because those conquests are proofs of its having been attempted. These various thoughts kept her waking the whole night; but towards morning she fell into a slumber, from whence she was roused by a loud knocking at her chamber-door. She rose instantly from her chair, where she had past the night; and perceiving the day was far advanced, opened the door, and let in her landlady; who excused herself for disturbing her, being apprehensive, she said, that she was ill, from her continuing so long in her chamber.
“It would not be surprising,” said Henrietta cooly, “if I should be ill, considering the fright I was in last night. Did you not hear me cry out, Mrs. Eccles?”
“Dear heart,” said Mrs. Eccles smiling, “hear you cry out! why what was the matter? some groundless apprehensions of thieves, I suppose; but there is no danger: my house has very good fastenings; I have lain it many a night by myself, I assure you.”
“That may be,” said miss Courteney; “but I am resolved never to lie in it another night; it would be well, Mrs. Eccles, if you were a little more cautious to whom you let your lodgings: rakes are dangerous company.”
“I hope I have no such persons in my house,” said Mrs. Eccles. “I have been insulted in your house,” said Henrietta, “which obliges me to hasten my departure from it; pray let your maid get me a coach to the door.”
“Why, you are not going, madam, are you?” said Mrs. Eccles pertly. “Not immediately,” replied miss Courteney, “but I shall go to-day; at present I am going out upon business.”
“And why pray will you go to-day, madam?” said Mrs. Eccles still more saucily. “Because,” said miss Courteney, who did not like the accent in which she spoke, “I do not chuse to stay in a house where I am liable to be insulted.”
“I hope you intend to cast no aspersions upon my character, madam,” said Mrs. Eccles: “I would have you to know that I value my character as much as any body, though I am not so prudish as some folks.”
“Will you order your maid to get me a coach?” said Henrietta, who was extremely apprehensive of some further rudeness from this woman; “I am in haste.”
“Insulted, indeed!” repeated Mrs. Eccles: “fine airs for folks to give themselves, when no-body knows who they are, or what they are.” Henrietta, finding that her insolence increased, told her she would go down herself, and send the maid for a coach, and was passing by her for that purpose; but Mrs. Eccles placed herself between her and the door, “No, no, my fine scrupulous young lady,” says she, “you shall not stir, I assure you.”
“Sure,” said miss Courteney trembling, yet endeavouring to seem very courageous, “you will not dare to detain me!” “Indeed but I will,” said Mrs. Eccles, “till I am paid; I know nothing of you but your airs and affectation; I may never see you again perhaps.”
The young lady immediately pulled out her purse, blushing at the new indignity that was offered her; and taking out a guinea, “I agreed with you, Mrs. Eccles,” said she, “for a guinea a week: here is a guinea for you, and now am I at liberty to go out?”
“Perhaps not,” said Mrs. Eccles; “you have aspersed me with scandalous reflections, and I can tell you, madam, I will have satisfaction.” “Lord bless me,” said miss Courteney, who was now frighted out of her seeming courage, “what shall I do! what will become of me?”
This exclamation immediately brought up his lordship, who had been listening at the door of his apartment, and heard part of what had past.
As soon as Henrietta saw him her terror increased, not doubting but he came as an auxiliary to her landlady; but the contemptuous look he gave Mrs. Eccles, removed her apprehensions.
“What do you mean,” said he, in an angry tone, “by treating this young lady in such a manner. Miss Benson do not be uneasy: if you are going, you shall meet with no hindrance; I ask your pardon for being the cause of your fright last night; I do assure you I am sincerely sorry for it.”
“I hope you are, my lord,” said miss Courteney, “and I thank you for this seasonable interposition.” Saying this, she hastened down stairs, and dispatched the maid for a coach; while she stepped into the millener’s parlour to settle her dress a little, and to put on her hat and cardinal,31 which she had brought down in her hand.