every thing to be as she wished, gave him every encouragement, and contrived frequently to draw him into situations and expressions which were rather equivocal, but by which he meant nothing, though the lady thought otherwise.
They had been near three weeks at Scarborough; the ladies had heard twice from Matilda, but as she requested her name might never be mentioned to the Count, but from necessity, they only answered his eager enquiries, by saying she was well, and appeared to be much pleased with her situation. He saw there was a reserve in their manner, and justly supposed it owing to her restrictions: he did justice to her greatness of mind, which only served to encrease his love and regrets.
One morning Mrs. Courtney, entering the Marchioness's dressing-room, flung herself into a chair, "Bless me! (said she) what shall I do with your friend, the Count? he has drawn me into a pretty scrape,—I never intended marrying again, but he is so pressing, so irresistible—" "Who, (cried the Marchioness, surprised) the Count? he pressing?" "Why, yes, (answered she,) surely you must have observed his particular devoirs for some time past." "Not I, upon my honour (answered the Marchioness) I never supposed his attentions to you wore the face of particularity." "Then you can have observed nothing, (said she, peevishly.) Pray, what think you, my dear madam?" (turning to the Countess.) "Upon my word, I am equally surprised (replied she) but if you can settle the matter agreeably between yourselves, I shall certainly rejoice at it, because I am very sure Matilda will keep her resolution, in refusing his addresses."
Those last words, which were spoken undesignedly piqued Mrs. Courtney a good deal. "I do not think 'tis of much consequence, (said she haughtily) whether she keeps her resolution or not;—I believe by this time he is very sensible of the impropriety of his offer———but I forget, I appointed him to meet me at a
