ABSTRACT
Delmont had been betrayed by the sudden appearance and rude remonstrance of Mrs. Crewkherne, into a degree of unguarded warmth, which on a moment’s reflection he repented. ‘Why,’ said he, ‘should I suffer the intrusion of those foolish women to discompose me, or why should I convey any of the displeasure they may give me to Mrs. Glenmorris? have I ever desired to keep my visits here secret? or have I ever made them clandestinely? Certainly not. I ought then to have been collected enough to have answered Mrs. Crewkherne’s question, instead of appearing angry, as if I was detected in company with one of whose society I was ashamed. Lovely innocent Medora, is it purity and sweetness like thine that I blush to be seen with? and with thy admirable mother, can I feel any other sensation than that of conscious inferiority? What can be meaner and more unworthy of the character I aspire to, ‘to dare to think for myself, and to act what I think,’ than such pusillanimity as I have just been guilty of, in shrinking from the enquiry of two gossipping women, who will probably, from my weak attempt to avoid them, relate some legend, produced by their own malice; whereas, had I simply described the persons I was with, I should have deprived them of the power they now have to imagine and report evil.’
