My mother placed herself by her. Madam, said she, Mr Faulkland made it a point with me before he left England, that I should see you, and afford you all the assistance in my power, or that you should stand in need of. You seem to be commodiously situated here, and I understand have a very careful good woman to attend you.
I have so, madam, she answered; but the most material circumstance is wanting to my relief: Mr Faulkland!--He is not here. Tears started into her eyes as she spoke. You were apprised of his absence, said my mother, before you came to town. I was, madam, and with the cause of it; she hung down her head and was silent.
My mother reassumed the conversation. She told her, she thought it a most providential discovery, that had given her the knowlege of Mr Faulkland's ill behaviour, time enough to prevent his marriage with her daughter; assuring her, she would not, for the universe, have had me the wife of a man under such ties, as she must consider Mr Faulkland to be. Miss B. brightned up a little upon my mother's saying this. Did Mr Faulkland ever tell you, madam, how the unhappy affair happened? My mother told her, she knew not particulars; that she had been referred to her for a full explanation; that Mr Faulkland had always endeavoured to excuse himself; and went so far as to say, He was sure the lady herself would acquit him in a great measure. Ah! madam! Miss B. cried, and shook her head. 'Tis as I suspected, said my mother, Mr Faulkland is an ungenerous man. A young lady of your modest appearance, I am sure he must have taken more pains to seduce, than he will acknowlege. Miss B blushed exceedingly--Oh! madam, you have a charitable, generous heart, I was _indeed_ seduced. I knew it, replied my mother. Did he promise to marry you? She coloured deeper than before. I will not accuse him of that, madam. My mother proceeded; You have a relation, madam; I understand she was accessary to your misfortune. Yes, the barbarous woman, answered the lady, she was the contriver of my destruction; and if I could have avoided it, I would never have seen her face again. Tears of grief and indignation again burst from her eyes. Have comfort, madam, said my mother, all may end well yet. I can have no hopes, answered Miss B. Mr Faulkland flies me, you see, nor can I ever expect to recover his heart, since so charming a young lady, as I hear Miss Bidulph is, has possession of it; and though your goodness disappointed him in his late views, he may not yet despair. I found by this, continued my mother, that Miss B knew nothing of your being married, and made haste to tell her. I never saw joy so visible in a countenance. She clasped her hands together; Dear madam! what do you tell me? How you revive my drooping heart! then I am not _quite_ hopeless, there is a _possibility_ in my favour.