MRS. BOLD CONFIDES IN MISS STANHOPE.
"Oh, I am sure he was," said Eleanor. "I am sure he must have been tipsy."
"Well, I declare I didn't observe it. But what was it, my love?"
"Why, I believe I can hardly tell you. He talked such horrid stuff that you never heard the like; about religion, and heaven, and love.—Oh, dear,—he is such a nasty man."
"I can easily imagine the sort of stuff he would talk. Well,—and then—?"
"And then—he took hold of me."
"Took hold of you?"
"Yes,—he somehow got close to me and took hold of me—"
"By the waist?"
"Yes," said Eleanor, shuddering.
"And then—"
"Then I jumped away from him, and gave him a slap on the face; and ran away along the path, till I saw you."
"Ha, ha, ha!" Charlotte Stanhope laughed heartily at the finale to the tragedy. It was delightful to her to think that Mr. Slope had had his ears boxed. She did not quite appreciate the feeling which made her friend so unhappy at the result of the interview. To her thinking, the matter had ended happily enough as regarded the widow, who indeed was entitled to some sort of triumph among her friends. Whereas to Mr. Slope would be due all those jibes and jeers which would naturally follow such an affair. His friends would ask him whether his ears tingled whenever he saw a widow; and he would be cautioned that beautiful things were made to be looked at, and not to be touched.
Such were Charlotte Stanhope's views on such matters; but she did not at the present moment clearly explain them to Mrs. Bold. Her object was to endear herself to her friend: and therefore, having had her laugh, she was ready enough to offer sympathy. Could Bertie do anything? Should Bertie speak to the man, and warn him that in future he must behave with more decorum? Bertie, indeed, she declared, would be more angry than any one else when he heard to what insult Mrs. Bold had been subjected.
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