That such a
character, by means of a fine person and a few meretricious talents,
could work himself into the confidence of Mary Beaufort, pierced her
cousin to the soul; and as he mounted the stairs with an intent to
seek her in her dressing-room, he almost resolved to refuse obeying
her commands.
When he opened the room-door, he found Miss Beaufort and his aunt.
The instant he appeared, the ever-benevolent face of Miss Dorothy
contracted into a frown.
"Nephew," cried she, "I shall not take it well of you if you give
stronger credence to the passionate and vulgar assertions of Lady
Dundas and her daughters than you choose to bestow on the tried
veracity of your cousin Mary."
Pembroke was conscious that if his countenance had been a faithful
transcript of his mind, Miss Beaufort did not err in supposing he
believed the foreigner to be a villain. Knowing that it would be
impossible for him to relinquish his reason into what he now
denominated the partial hands of his aunt and cousin, he persisted in
his opinion to both the ladies, that their unsuspicious natures had
been rendered subservient to knavery and artifice.
"I would not, my dear madam," said he, addressing Miss Dorothy,
"think so meanly of your sex as to imagine that such atrocity can
exist in the female heart as could give birth to ruinous and
unprovoked calumnies against an innocent man.
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