'I am sure,' said I, with a blush which owed its birth as much to pique as to shame, 'I never thought of being immodest, nor of any thing else, except to look as well as I could; but if it will please you, I shall get a tucker, and let you cover me as much as you will.'
Miss Mortimer good-naturedly accepted this little office; saying, while she performed it, 'it is a good principle in dress, that the chief use of clothing is concealment. I am persuaded, that you would never offend in this point, were you to remember, that if ever an exposed figure pleases, it must be in some way in which no modest woman would wish to please.'
Meanwhile Miss Arnold, who was even more impatient than myself to be gone, had ordered the carriage to the door. Miss Mortimer took leave of me with a seriousness of manner approaching to solemnity; and we departed. The moment we were alone, Juliet proposed to undo Miss Mortimer's labours, declaring that 'they had quite made a fright of me.' Fortunately for such a world as this, the most questionable principle may produce insulated acts of propriety. My pride for once espoused the right side. 'Forbear, Juliet!' cried I indignantly. 'Would you have people to look at me as they do at the very outcasts of womankind,--some with pity, some with scorn?'
Miss Arnold's 'hour' had elapsed long before the concourse of carriages would allow us to alight at Lady St Edmunds' door. On my first entrance, I was so bewildered by the confusion of the scene, and the grotesque figures of the masks, that I could scarcely recognise the mistress of the revels, although we had previously concerted the dress which she was to wear. She presently, however, relieved this dilemma, by addressing me in character; though she was, or pretended to be, unable to penetrate my disguise. The tinge of seriousness which Miss Mortimer had left upon my spirits being aided by the alarm created by so many unsightly shapes, I determined not to quit Lady St Edmunds' side during the evening; and was just going to tell her my name in a whisper, when I was accosted by a Grand Signior, whom, in spite of his disguise, I thought I discovered to be Lord Frederick de Burgh. I was somewhat surprised at this coincidence in our characters, as I had kept that in which I intended to appear a profound secret from all but Miss Arnold, who protested that she had never breathed it to any human being. Lord Frederick, however, for I was convinced that it was he, addressed me as a stranger; and, partly from the vanity of pleasing in a new character, I answered in the same strain. We were speedily engaged in a conversation, in the course of which a conviction of our previous acquaintance placed me so much at ease with my Turk, that I felt little disturbance, when, on looking round, I perceived that our matron had mingled with the crowd, leaving Miss Arnold and me to his protection. I supposed, however, to my friend, that we should go in search of Lady St Edmunds; and, still attended by our Grand Signior, we began our round.