Chapter XII
In which our heroine reconciles herself to a mortifying incident, by recollecting an adventure in a romance, similar to her own.

As soon as the ladies were come to their lodgings, Arabella went up to her own apartment to meditate upon what had passed, and Miss Glanville retired to dress for dinner; [180] while the two gentlemen, who thought they had great reason to be dissatisfied with each other, on account of Lady Bella’s behaviour, went to a coffee-house,^* in order to come to some explanation about it.

“Well, sir,” said the beau, with a sarcastic air, “I am greatly obliged to you for the endeavours you have used to ruin me in Lady Bella’s opinion. Rat^* me if it is not the greatest misfortune in the world, to give occasion for envy.”

“Envy, sir!” interrupted Mr. Selvin. “I protest I do really admire your great skill in stratagems, but I do not envy you the possession of it. You have indeed very wittily contrived to put your own sentiments of that lady, which you delivered so freely the other night, into my mouth. It was a masterpiece of cunning, indeed; and, as I said before, I admire your skill prodigiously.”

“I don’t know what you mean,” replied Tinsel, “you talk in riddles. Did you not yourself acquaint Lady Bella with the preference I gave Miss Glanville to her? What would you propose by such a piece of treachery? You have ruined all my hopes by it: the lady resents it excessively, and it is no wonder, faith, it must certainly mortify her. Upon my soul, I can never forgive thee for so mal à propos ^* a discovery.”

“Forgive me, sir!” replied Selvin, in a rage. “I don’t want your forgiveness. I have done nothing unbecoming a man of honour. The lady was so prejudiced by your insinuations that she would not give me leave to speak; [181] otherwise I would have fully informed her of her mistake that she might have known how much she was obliged to you.”p. 270

“So she would not hear thee?” interrupted Tinsel, laughing. “Dear soul, how very kind was that! Faith, I don’t know how it is, but I am very lucky, without deserving to be so. Thou art a witness for me, Frank, I took no great pains to gain this fine creature’s heart; but it was damned malicious though, to attempt to make discoveries. I see she is a little piqued, but I’ll set all to rights again with a billet-doux.^* I’ve an excellent hand, though I say it, at a billet-doux. I never knew one of mine fail in my life.”

“Harkee,^* sir,” said Selvin, whispering, “any more attempts to shift your sentiments upon me, and you shall hear of it. In the meantime, be assured, I’ll clear myself, and put the saddle upon the right horse.”^*

“Demme,^* if thou art not a queer fellow,” said Tinsel, endeavouring to hide his discomposure at this threat under a forced laugh.

Selvin, without making any reply, retired to write to Arabella, which Tinsel suspecting, resolved to be beforehand with him; and without leaving the coffee-house called for paper, and wrote a billet to her, which he dispatched away immediately.

The messenger had just got admittance to Lucy when another arrived from Selvin.

They both presented their letters, but Lucy refused them, saying her lady would turn her away if she received such sort of letters.

“Such sort of letters!” returned Tinsel’s man. “Why, do you know what they contain, then?”

[182] “To be sure I do,” replied Lucy, “they are love letters, and my lady has charged me never to receive any more.”

“Well,” replied Selvin’s servant, “you may take my letter; for my master desired me to tell you it was about business of consequence, which your lady must be acquainted with.”

“Since you assure me it is not a love letter, I’ll take it,” said Lucy.

“And pray take mine too,” said Tinsel’s mercury.^* “For I assure you, it is not a love letter neither, it’s only a billet-doux.”p. 271

“Are you sure of that?” replied Lucy. “Because I may venture to take it, I fancy, if it is what you say.”

“I’ll swear it,” said the man, delivering it to her.

“Well,” said she, receiving it, “I’ll take them both up. But what did you call this?” pursued she. “I must not forget it, or else my lady will think it a love letter.”

“A billet-doux,” said the man.

Lucy, for fear she should forget it, repeated the words ‘billet-doux’ several times as she went upstairs; but entering her lady’s apartment, she, perceiving the letters in her hand, asked her so sternly how she durst presume to bring them into her presence that the poor girl in her fright forgot the lesson she had been conning; and endeavouring to recall it into her memory, took no notice of her lady’s question, which she repeated several times, but to no purpose.

Arabella, surprised at her inattention, reiterated her commands in a tone somewhat [183] louder than usual, asking her at the same time why she did not obey her immediately.

“Indeed, madam,” replied Lucy, “your ladyship would not order me to take back the letters if you knew what they were. They are not love letters; I was resolved to be sure of that before I took them. This, madam, is a letter about business of consequence; and the other—. Oh dear! I can’t think what the man called it! But it is not a love letter, indeed, madam.”

“You are a simple wench,” said Arabella, smiling. “You may depend upon it, all letters directed to me must contain matters of love and gallantry, and those I am not permitted to receive. Take them away then immediately. But stay,” pursued she, seeing she was about to obey her, “one of them, you say, was delivered to you as a letter of consequence, perhaps it is so. Indeed, it may contain an advertisement of some design to carry me away. How do I know but Mr. Selvin, incited by his love and despair, may intend to make such an attempt? Give me that letter, Lucy, I am resolved to open it. As for the other—yet, who knows but the other may also bring me warning of the same danger from another quarter. The pains Mr. Tinsel took to conceal his passion, nay, almost as I think to deny it, amounts to a proof that he is meditating some way to make sure of me. It is certainly so. Give me that letter, Lucy; I should be accessary to their intended violence if I neglected this timely discovery.”

[184] “Well,” cried she, taking one of the letters, “this is exactly like what happened to the beautiful princess of Cappadocia, who, like me, in one and the same day, received advice^* that two of her lovers intended to carry her off.”

As she pronounced these words, Miss Glanville entered the room, to whom Arabella immediately recounted the adventure of the letters, telling her she did not doubt but that they contained a discovery of some conspiracy to carry her away.

“And whom does your ladyship suspect of such a strange design, pray?” said Miss Glanville, smiling.

“At present,” replied Arabella, “the two cavaliers who walked with us today are the persons who seem the most likely to attempt that violence.”

“I dare answer for Mr. Tinsel,” replied Miss Glanville, “he thinks of no such thing.”

“Well,” said Arabella, “to convince you of your mistake, I must inform you that Mr. Selvin, having the presumption to begin a declaration of love to me on the parade this morning, I reproved him severely for his want of respect, and threatened him with my displeasure; in the rage of his jealousy, at seeing me treat Mr. Tinsel well, he discovered to me that he also was as criminal as himself, in order to oblige me to a severer usage of him.”p. 272

“So he told you Mr. Tinsel was in love with you?” interrupted Miss Glanville.

“He told it to me in other words,” replied Arabella. “For he said Mr. Tinsel was guilty of that offence which I resented so severely to him.”

[185] Miss Glanville, beginning to comprehend the mystery, with great difficulty forbore laughing at her cousin’s mistake; for she well knew the offence of which Mr. Selvin hinted at, and desirous of knowing what those letters contained, she begged her to delay opening them no longer.

Arabella, pleased at her solicitude, opened one of the letters; but glancing her eye to the bottom, and seeing the name of Selvin, she threw it hastily upon the table, and averting her eyes: “What a mortification have I avoided!” said she. “That letter is from Selvin; and, questionless, contains an avowal of his crime.”

“Nay, you must read it,” cried Miss Glanville, taking it up, “since you have opened it, it is the same thing. You can never persuade him but you have seen it. However, to spare your nicety, I’ll read it to you.” Which accordingly she did, and found it as follows:

“How’s this?” cried Miss Glanville. “Why, madam, you are certainly mistaken. You see Mr. Selvin utterly denies the crime of loving you. He has suffered very innocently in your opinion. Indeed, your ladyship was too hasty in condemning him.”

“If what he says be true,” replied Arabella, who had been in extreme confusion while a letter so different from what she expected was reading, “I have indeed unjustly condemned him. Nevertheless, I am still inclined to believe this is all artifice, and that he is really guilty of entertaining a passion for me.”p. 273

“But why should he take so much pains to deny it, madam?” said Miss Glanville. “Methinks that looks very odd.”

“Not at all,” interrupted Arabella, whose spirits were raised by recollecting an adventure in a romance similar to this. “Mr. Selvin has fallen upon the very same stratagem with Seramenes, who being in love with the beautiful Cleobuline, princess of Corinth, took all imaginable pains to conceal his passion, in order [187] to be near that fair princess, who would have banished him from her presence, had she known he was in love with her. Nay, he went so far in his dissimulation, as to pretend love to one of the ladies of her court that his passion for the princess might be the less taken notice of. In these cases, therefore, the more resolutely a man denies his passion, the more pure and violent it is.”

“Then Mr. Selvin’s passion is certainly very violent,” replied Miss Glanville, “for he denies it very resolutely, and I believe none but your ladyship would have discovered his artifice. But shall we not open the other letter? I have a strong notion it comes from Tinsel.”

“For that very reason I would not be acquainted with the contents,” replied Arabella. “You see Mr. Selvin accuses him of being guilty of that offence which he denies. I shall doubtless meet with a confirmation of his love in that letter. Do not, I beseech you,” added she, seeing her cousin preparing to open the letter, “expose me to the pain of hearing a presumptuous declaration of love. Nay,” pursued she, rising in great emotion, “if you are resolved to persecute me by reading it, I’ll endeavour to get out of the hearing of it.”

“You shall not, I declare,” said Miss Glanville, laughing and holding her. “I’ll oblige you to hear it.”

“I vow, cousin,” said Arabella smiling, “you use me just as the princess Cleopatra did the fair and wise Antonia. However, if by this you mean to do any kindness to the unfortunate person who wrote that billet, you are greatly [188] mistaken, since if you oblige me to listen to a declaration of his crime, you will lay me under a necessity to banish him. A sentence he would have avoided, while I remained ignorant of it.”

To this Miss Glanville made no other reply than by opening the billet, the contents of which may be found in the following chapter.p. 274

Chapter XIII
In which our heroine’s extravagance will be thought, perhaps, to be carried to an extravagant length.

[189] “Well, madam,” said Miss Glanville when she had read this epistle, “I fancy you need not pronounce a sentence of banishment upon poor Mr. Tinsel; he seems to be quite innocent of the offence your ladyship suspects him of.”

“Why, really,” returned Arabella, blushing with extreme confusion at this second disappointment, “I am greatly perplexed to know how I ought to act on this occasion. I am much in the same situation with the princess Serena. For, you must know, this princess—” Here Lucy entering, informed the ladies dinner was served. “I shall defer till another opportunity,” said Arabella, upon this interruption, “the relation of the princess Serena’s adventures, which you will find,” added she, in a low voice, “bear a very great resemblance to mine.”

Miss Glanville replied she would hear it whenever she pleased, and then followed Arabella to the dining room. p. 275

The cloth was scarce removed when Mr. Selvin came in. Arabella blushed at his appearance, and discovered so much perplexity in her behaviour that Mr. Selvin was apprehensive he had not yet sufficiently justified himself, and therefore took the first opportunity to approach her.

“I shall think myself very unhappy, madam,” said he bowing, “if the letter I did myself the honour to write to you this morning—”

“Sir,” interrupted Arabella, “I perceive you are going to forget the contents of that letter, and preparing again to offend me by a presumptuous declaration of love.”

[190] “Who, I, madam!” replied he, in great astonishment and confusion. “I . . . I . . . I protest—though I . . . I have a very great respect for your ladyship, yet. . . yet I never presumed to. . . to. . . to—”

“You have presumed too much,” replied Arabella, “and I should forget what I owed to my own glory if I furnished you with any more occasions of offending me.—Know then, I absolutely forbid you to appear before me again, at least till I am convinced you have changed your sentiments.”

Saying this, she rose from her seat, and making a sign to him not to follow her, which indeed he had no intention to do, she quitted the room, highly satisfied with her own conduct upon this occasion, which was exactly conformable to the laws of romance.

Mr. Tinsel, who had just alighted from his chair, having a glimpse of her, as she passed to her own apartment, resolved, if possible, to procure a private interview, for he did not doubt but his billet had done wonders in his favour.

For that purpose he ventured up to her antechamber, where he found Lucy in waiting, whom he desired to acquaint her lady that he entreated a moment’s speech with her.

Lucy, after hesitating a moment, and looking earnestly at him, replied: “Sir, if you’ll promise me faithfully, you are not in love with my lady, I’ll go and deliver your message.”

“Deuce^* take me,” said Tinsel, “if that is not a very whimsical condition truly.—Pray, my dear, how came it into thy little brain to [191] suspect I was in love with thy lady? But, suppose I should be in love with her, what then?”

“Why then, it is likely you would die, that’s all,” said Lucy, “without my lady would be so kind to command you to live.”p. 276

“I vow thou hast mighty pretty notions, child,” said Tinsel, smiling. “Hast thou been reading any playbook lately? But pray, dost think thy lady would have compassion on me if I was in love with her? Come, I know thou art in her confidence, hast thou ever heard her talk of me? Does she not tell thee all her secrets?”

Here Arabella’s bell ringing, the beau slipped half a guinea into her hand, which Lucy not willing to refuse, went immediately to her lady, to whom, with a trembling accent, she repeated Mr. Tinsel’s request.

“Imprudent girl!” cried Arabella, “for I am loth to suspect thee of disloyalty to thy mistress, dost thou know the nature and extent of the request thou hast delivered? Art thou ignorant that the presumptuous man whom thou solicitest this favour for has mortally offended me?”

“Indeed, madam,” said Lucy, frightened out of her wits,^* “I don’t solicit for him. I scorn to do any such thing. I would not offend your ladyship for the world. For, before I would deliver his message to your ladyship, I made him assure me that he was not in love with your ladyship.”

“That was very wisely done indeed,” replied Arabella, smiling. “And do you believe he spoke the truth?”

[192] “Yes, indeed, I am sure of it,” said Lucy, eagerly, “if your ladyship will but be pleased to see him, he is only in the next room; I dare promise—”

“How!” interrupted Arabella. “What have you done? Have you brought him into my apartment then? I protest this adventure is exactly like what befell the beautiful Statira, when, by a stratagem of the same kind Oroondates was introduced into her presence. Lucy, thou art another Barsina, I think, but I hope thy intentions are not less innocent than hers were.”

“Indeed, madam,” replied Lucy, almost weeping,^* “I am very innocent. I am no ‘Barsina’, as your ladyship calls me.”

“I dare answer for thee,” said Arabella, smiling at the turn she gave to her words, “thou art no Barsina; and I should wrong thee very much to compare thee with that wise princess, for thou art certainly one of the most simple wenches in the world. But since thou hast gone so far, let me know what the unfortunate person desires of me; for, since I am neither more rigid nor pretend to more virtue than Statira, I may do at least as much for him as that great queen did for Oroondates.”

“He desires, madam,” said Lucy, “that your ladyship would be pleased to let him speak with you.”

“Or, in his words, I suppose,” replied Arabella, “‘he humbly implored a moment’s audience.’”

“I told your ladyship his very words, indeed, madam,” said Lucy.

[193] “I tell thee, girl, thou art mistaken,” said Arabella. “It is impossible he should sue for such a favour in terms like those. Therefore, go back, and let him know that I consent to grant him a short audience upon these conditions. First, provided he does not abuse my indulgence by offending me with any protestations of his passion. Secondly, that he engages to fulfil the injunctions I shall lay upon him, however cruel and terrible they may appear. Lastly, that his despair must not prompt him to any act of desperation against himself.”

Lucy, having received this message, quitted the room hastily, for fear she should forget it.p. 277

“Well, my pretty ambassadress,” said Tinsel, when he saw her enter the antechamber, “will your lady see me?”

“No, sir,” replied Lucy.

“No!” interrupted Tinsel. “That’s kind, faith, after waiting so long.”

“Pray, sir,” said Lucy, “don’t put me out so; I shall forget what my lady ordered me to tell you.”

“Oh! I ask your pardon, child,” said Tinsel. “Come, let me hear your message.”

“Sir,” said Lucy, adopting the solemnity of her lady’s accent. “My lady bade me say that she will grant—. No, that she consents to grant you a short ‘dience.’”

“‘Audience’ you would say, child,” said Tinsel. “But how came you to tell me before she would not see me?”

[194] “I vow and protest, sir,” said Lucy, “you have put all my lady’s words clean out of my head—. I don’t know what comes next—”

“Oh, no matter,” said Tinsel, “you have told me enough. I’ll wait upon^* her directly.”

Lucy, who saw him making towards the door, pressed between it and him; and having all her lady’s whims in her head, supposed he was going to carry her away. Possessed with this thought, she screamed out: “Help! Help! For heaven’s sake! My lady will be carried away!”

Arabella hearing this exclamation of her woman’s, echoed her screams, though with a voice infinitely more delicate; and seeing Tinsel, who, confounded to the last degree at the cries of both the lady and her woman, had got into her chamber he knew not how, she gave herself over for lost, and fell back in her chair in a swoon, or something she took for a swoon, for she was persuaded it could happen no otherwise; since all ladies in the same circumstances are terrified into a fainting fit, and seldom recover till they are conveniently carried away; and when they awake, find themselves many miles off in the power of their ravisher.

Arabella’s other women, alarmed by her cries, came running into the room; and seeing Mr. Tinsel there, and their lady in a swoon, concluded some very extraordinary accident had happened.

“What is your business here?” cried they all at a time. “Is it you that has frighted her ladyship?”

[195] “Devil take me,” said Tinsel, amazed, “if I can tell what all this means.”

By this time Sir Charles, Mr. Glanville and his sister came running astonished upstairs. Arabella still continued motionless in her chair, her eyes closed and her head reclined upon Lucy, who, with her other women, was endeavouring to recover her.

Mr. Glanville eagerly ran to her assistance, while Sir Charles and his daughter as eagerly interrogated Mr. Tinsel, who stood motionless with surprise, concerning the cause of her disorder.

Arabella, then first discovering some signs of life, half opened her eyes.p. 278

“Inhuman wretch!” cried she, with a faint voice, supposing herself in the hands of her ravisher. “Think not thy cruel violence shall procure thee what thy submissions could not obtain; and if when thou hadst only my indifference to surmount, thou didst find it so difficult to overcome my resolution, now that, by this unjust attempt, thou hast added aversion to that indifference, never hope for anything but the most bitter reproaches from me.”

“Why, niece,” said Sir Charles, approaching her, “what is the matter? Look up, I beseech you, nobody is attempting to do you any hurt; here’s none but friends about you.”

Arabella, raising her head at the sound of her uncle’s voice, and casting a confused look on the persons about her: “May I believe my senses? Am I rescued, and in my own chamber? To whose valour is my deliverance owing? Without [196] doubt, it is to my cousin’s, but where is he? Let me assure him of my gratitude.”

Mr. Glanville, who had retired to a window in great confusion, as soon as he heard her call for him, came towards her, and in a whisper begged her to be composed, that she was in no danger.

“And pray, niece,” said Sir Charles, “now you are a little recovered, be so good to inform us of the cause of your fright. What has happened to occasion all this confusion?”

“How, sir!” said Arabella, “Don’t you know, then, what has happened?—Pray, how was I brought again into my chamber, and by what means was I rescued?”

“I protest,” said Sir Charles, “I don’t know that you have been out of it.”

“Alas!” replied Arabella, “I perceive you are quite ignorant of what has befallen me, nor am I able to give you any information. All I can tell you is that alarmed by my woman’s cries and the sight of my ravisher, who came into my chamber, I fainted away, and so facilitated his enterprise, since doubtless it was very easy for him to carry me away while I remained in that senseless condition. How I was rescued, or by whom, one of my women can haply inform you, since it is probable one of them was also forced away with me— Oh heavens!” cried she, seeing Tinsel, who all this while stood gazing like one distracted. “What makes that impious man appear in my presence! What am I to think of this? Am I really delivered, or no?”

[197] “What can this mean?” cried Sir Charles, turning to Tinsel. “Have you, sir, had any hand in frighting my niece?”

“I, sir!” said Tinsel. “Let me perish if ever I was so confounded in my life. The lady’s brain is disordered, I believe.”

Mr. Glanville, who was convinced all this confusion was caused by some of Arabella’s usual whims, dreaded lest an explanation would the more expose her; and therefore told his father that it would be best to retire, and leave his cousin to the care of his sister and her women; adding that she was not yet quite recovered, and their presence did but discompose her.

Then addressing himself to Tinsel he told him he would wait upon him downstairs.

Arabella, seeing them going away together and supposing they intended to dispute the possession of her with their swords, called out to them to stay. p. 279

Mr. Glanville, however, without minding her, pressed Mr. Tinsel to walk down.

“Nay, pray, sir,” said the beau, “let us go in again; she may grow outrageous if we disoblige her.”

“Outrageous, sir,” said Glanville, “do you suppose my cousin is mad?”

“Upon my soul, sir,” replied Tinsel, “if she is not mad, she is certainly a little out of her senses, or so—”

Arabella having reiterated her commands for her lovers to return, and finding they did not obey her, ran to her chamber door, where they were holding a surly sort of conference, especially [198] on Glanville’s side, who was horridly out of humour.

“I perceive by your looks,” said Arabella to her cousin, “the design you are meditating; but know that I absolutely forbid you, by all the power I have over you, not to engage in combat with my ravisher here.”

“Madam,” interrupted Glanville, “I beseech you, do not—”

“I know,” said she, “you will object to me the examples of Artamenes, Aronces and many others, who were so generous as to promise their rivals not to refuse them that satisfaction whenever they demanded it.—But consider, you have not the same obligations to Mr. Tinsel that Artamenes had to the king of Assyria, or that Aronces had to—”

“For God’s sake, cousin,” said Glanville, “what’s all this to the purpose? Curse on Aronces and the king of Assyria, I say—”

The astonishment of Arabella at this intemperate speech of her cousin kept her for a moment immoveable, when Sir Charles, who during this discourse, had been collecting all the information he could from Lucy, concerning this perplexed affair, came towards Tinsel and, giving him an angry look, told him he should take it well if he forbore visiting any of his family for the future.

“Oh! Your most obedient servant, sir,” said Tinsel. “You expect, I suppose, I should be excessively chagrined at this prohibition? But upon my soul, I am greatly obliged to you. Agad!^* I have no great mind to a halter. And since this lady is so apt to think people have a design [199] to ravish her, the wisest thing a man can do is to keep out of her way.”

“Sir,” replied Glanville, who had followed him to the door, “I believe there has been some little mistake in what has happened today.—However, I expect you’ll take no unbecoming liberties with the character of Lady Bella—”

“Oh! Sir,” said Tinsel, “I give you my honour I shall always speak of the lady with the most profound veneration. She is a most accomplished, incomprehensible lady. And the devil take me if I think there is her fellow^* in the world.—And so, sir, I am your most obedient—”

“A word with you before you go,” said Glanville, stopping him. “No more of these sneers, as you value that smooth face of yours, or I’ll despoil it of a nose.”p. 280

“Oh! Your humble servant,” said the beau, retiring in great confusion, with something betwixt a smile and a grin upon his countenance, which he took care, however, Mr. Glanville should not see, who, as soon as he quitted him, went again to Arabella’s apartment, in order to prevail upon his father and sister to leave her a little to herself, for he dreaded lest some more instances of her extravagance would put it into his father’s head that she was really out of her senses.

“Well, sir,” said Arabella upon his entrance, “you have, I suppose, given your rival his liberty. I assure you this generosity is highly agreeable to me.—And herein you imitate the noble Artamenes, who upon a like occasion, acted as you have done. For when Fortune [200] had put the ravisher of Mandana in his power, and he became the vanquisher of his rival, who endeavoured by violence to possess that divine princess, this truly generous hero relinquished the right he had of disposing of his prisoner, and instead of sacrificing his life to his just and reasonable vengeance, he gave a proof of his admirable virtue and clemency by dismissing him in safety, as you have done. However,” added she, “I hope you have made him swear upon your sword that he will never make a second attempt upon my liberty. I perceive,” pursued she, seeing Mr. Glanville continued silent, with his eyes bent on the ground, for indeed he was ashamed to look up, “that you would willingly avoid the praise due to the heroic action you have just performed.—Nay, I suppose you are resolved to keep it secret, if possible, yet I must tell you that you will not escape the glory due to it. Glory is as necessarily the result of a virtuous action, as light is an effect of the sun which causeth it, and has no dependence on any other cause; since a virtuous action continues still the same, though it be done without testimony; and glory, which is, as one may say, born with it, constantly attends it, though the action be not known.”

“I protest, niece,” said Sir Charles, “that’s very prettily said.”

“In my opinion, sir,” pursued Arabella, “if anything can weaken the glory of a good action, it is the care a person takes to make it known. As if one did not do good for the sake of good, but for the praise that generally follows it. Those then that are governed by [201] so interested a motive ought to be considered as sordid rather than generous persons, who making a kind of traffic between virtue and glory, barter just so much of the one for the other, and expect, like other merchants, to make advantage by the exchange.”

Mr. Glanville, who was charmed into an ecstasy at this sensible speech of Arabella’s, forgot in an instant all her absurdities. He did not fail to express his admiration of her understanding, in terms that brought a blush into her fair face, and obliged her to lay her commands upon him to cease his excessive commendations. Then making a sign to them to leave her alone, Mr. Glanville, who understood her, took his father and sister downstairs, leaving Arabella with her faithful Lucy, whom she immediately commanded to give her a relation of what had happened to her from the time of her swooning till she recovered.