She
advanced with a calm step towards Euphemia, and taking hold of the
hand which concealed her face whilst uttering this last falsehood,
she drew it away, and regarding her with a serene but penetrating
look, she said: "Euphemia! you well know that you are slandering an
innocent and unfortunate man. You know that never in his life did he
give you the slightest reason to suppose that he was attached to you;
for myself, I can also clear him of making professions to me. Upon
the honor of my word, I declare," added she, addressing herself to
the whole group, "that he never breathed a sentence to me beyond mere
respect. By this last deviation of Euphemia from truth, you may form
an estimate how far the rest she has alleged deserves credit."
The young lady burst into a vehement passion of tears.
"I will not be browbeaten and insulted, Miss Beaufort!" cried she,
taking refuge in noise, since right had deserted her. "You know you
would fight his battles through thick and thin, else you would not
have fallen into fits yesterday when I told you he was sent to jail."
This last assault struck Mary motionless; and Lady Dundas, lifting up
her hands, exclaimed, "Good la! keep me from the forward misses of
these times! As for you, Miss Euphemia," added she, seizing her
daughter by the arm, "you shall leave town tomorrow morning. I will
have no more tutoring and falling in love in my house; and for you,
Miss Beaufort," turning to Mary, (who, having recovered herself,
stood calmly at a little distance,) "I shall take care to warn Miss
Dorothy Somerset to keep an eye over your conduct.
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