"I thought," said Harriet, "that he had enough love to last to all eternity; but I was mistaken. And if he thought the same of me, he was mistaken too."
At these words she drew herself up proudly, and again scattered her short curls.
"He went off to his regiment; and the next thing I heard of him was that he was at the feet of a married woman--a lady famous for detaching men from their lawful allegiance, whether as husbands or lovers. This Mrs. Max--but we will not mention names."
"Mrs. Maxwell Dorset!" exclaimed Margaret starting up in her chair.
"What, you have heard of her?" said Harriet, "I believe she enjoys a pretty extensive reputation. Is your head worse? I have been talking too much for you, I am afraid."
"Not at all," said Margaret, leaning back again, "pray go on; and will you give me another cup of coffee?"
"You shall have it," said Harriet, "one need not forget to eat and drink; that is the last stage of that most deplorable folly--love. Well--I do not look like a person who would put up with such conduct, do I?"
"I wrote immediately to George to signify that as he had made his choice, he might abide by it--that he was welcome to be Mrs. such a one's slave, but that I resigned every sort of claim to the honour. I thought he deserved a little better than Lazarillo de Tormes, who played the part of lackey to seven mistresses--the rascal--and at last was almost demolished by two viragos who contended for his services in the open street."
"This made rather a cabal in the family, you may suppose. Papa, who thought one daughter was disposed of, looked very blank upon my proceedings. Captain Gage--just like him--took my part. He said that George had behaved shamefully, and though he hoped it would all come right again, he could not wonder at my determination. But these things never do come right again, Margaret."
"The strangest part of the whole affair was George's conduct. He had been, before this transaction, not at all better than his neighbours--and that is saying little enough for any man--indeed, as my good aunt told me, I might reasonably have expected what happened. My aunt was right, though I own, I could have called her out at the time for saying so. Well, he suddenly turned over a new leaf; renounced his extravagances, cut Mrs. Maxwell Dorset, and became quite a moral character. In fact, behaved as people are supposed to do upon an engagement instead of a repulse. This was all his pride; just to show me what an exemplary character I had thrown away."