A STORM.
One evening about this time, which was the latter
end of July, Lady Honoria and Cecilia deferred walking
out till very late, and then found it so pleasant,
that they had strolled into the Park two miles from
the house, when they were met by young Delvile; who,
however, only reminded them how far they had to return,
and walked on.
“He grows quite intolerable!” cried Lady
Honoria, when he was gone; “it’s really
a melancholy thing to see a young man behave so like
an old Monk. I dare say in another week he won’t
take off his hat to us; and, in about a fortnight,
I suppose he’ll shut himself up in one of those
little round towers, and shave his head, and live upon
roots, and howl if any body comes near him. I
really half wonder he does not think it too dissipated
to let Fidel run after him so. A thousand to
one but he shoots him some day for giving a sudden
bark when he’s in one of these gloomy fits.
Something, however, must certainly be the matter with
him. Perhaps he is in love.”
“Can nothing be the matter with him but that?”
cried Cecilia.
“Nay, I don’t know; but I am sure if he
is, his Mistress has not much occasion to be jealous
of you or me, for never, I think, were two poor Damsels
so neglected!”
The utmost art of malice could not have furnished
speech more truly mortifying to Cecilia than this
thoughtless and accidental sally of Lady Honoria’s:
particularly, however, upon her guard, from the raillery
she had already endured, she answered, with apparent
indifference, “he is meditating, perhaps, upon
Lady Euphrasia.”
“O no,” cried Lady Honoria, “for
he did not take any notice of her when he saw her;
I am sure if he marries her, it will only be because
he cannot help it.”
“Poor Lady Euphrasia!”
“O no, not at all; he’ll make her two
or three fine speeches, and then she’ll be perfectly
contented especially if he looks as dismally at her
as he does at us! and that probably he will do the
more readily for not liking to look at her at all.
But she’s such a romantic little thing, she’ll
never suspect him.”
Here they were somewhat alarmed by a sudden darkness
in the air, which was presently succeeded by a thunder
storm; they instantly turned back, and began running
home, when a violent shower of rain obliged them to
take shelter under a large tree; where in two minutes
they were joined by Delvile, who came to offer his
assistance in hurrying them home; and finding the
thunder and lightning continue, begged them to move
on, in defiance of the rain, as their present situation
exposed them to more danger than a wet hat and cloak,
which might be changed in a moment.
Cecilia readily assented; but Lady Honoria, extremely
frightened, protested she would not stir till the
storm was over. It was in vain he represented
her mistake in supposing herself in a place of security;
she clung to the tree, screamed at every flash of lightning,
and all her gay spirits were lost in her apprehensions.
