Discipline - Mary Brunton

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advanced towards her with the most unconscious air of kindness. 'You are quite equipped for conquest, Miss Arnold,' said she. 'I never saw any thing so gracefully fantastic.' She had now obtained a view of my figure, and the truth seemed to flash upon her at once; for she started, and changed colour.

      A dead silence followed, for indeed I did not dare to look up, much less speak. Miss Arnold first recovered herself. 'Mr Percy,' said she, endeavouring to speak carelessly, 'has given Ellen and me permission to go out for an hour.'

      'Yes,' rejoined I hesitatingly, 'papa has given us leave, and we shall only stay a very little while.' – Miss Mortimer made no answer. I stole a glance at her, and saw that she was pale as death. I ventured a step nearer to her. 'You are not very angry with us,' said I.

      'No, Miss Percy,' said she, in a low constrained voice; 'I never claimed a right to dictate where you should or should not go. There was, therefore, on this occasion, the less necessity for having recourse to – '

      She left the sentence unfinished; but my conscience filled up the pause. 'Indeed, my dear Miss Mortimer,' said I, for at that moment I was thoroughly humbled, 'I never meant to go without your knowledge. Miss Arnold will tell you that we have been all day contriving how we should mention it to you.'

      'Your word did not use to need confirmation,' said Miss Mortimer, sighing heavily. 'I did hope,' continued she, 'that you would have spared to me a part of this evening; for I have many things to say, and this is the last – '

      Miss Mortimer stopped, cleared her throat, bit her quivering lip, and began industriously to arrange the drapery upon my shoulder; but all would not do, – she burst into tears. I could not withstand Miss Mortimer's emotion, and, throwing my arms round her neck, – 'My dear, dear friend,' I cried, 'be angry with me, scold me as much as you will, only do not grieve yourself. If I could once have guessed that you were to be ill to-night, I should never have thought of this vile ball; and I am sure, if it will please you, I will send away the carriage, and stay at home still.'

      This proposal was perfectly sincere, but not very intelligible; for the thought of such a sacrifice overpowered me so completely, that the last words were choked with sobs. Miss Mortimer seemed at first to hesitate whether she should not accept of my offer; but, after a few moments' reflection, 'No, Ellen,' said she, 'I will not cause you so cruel a disappointment; for surely – surely this masquerade has seized upon a most disproportionate share of your wishes. You must soon be left to your own discretion; and why should I impose an unavailing hardship? Go then, my love, and be as happy as you can.'

      My heart leapt light at this concession. 'Dear, good, kind Miss Mortimer,' cried I, kissing her cheek, 'do not be afraid of me. I assure you, I shall be more discreet and prudent this evening than ever I was in my life.'

      Miss Mortimer gave me an April smile. 'This is not much like the garb of discretion,' said she, looking at my dress, which indeed approached the utmost limit of fashionable allurement. 'It seems time that I should cease to advise, else I should beg of you to make some little addition to your dress. You may meet with people, even at a masquerade, who think that no charm can atone for any defect of modesty; and I should imagine, that your spirit would scarcely brook the remarks they might make.'

      '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.

      And here let me honestly confess, that my pastime very poorly compensated the concealment, anxiety, and remorse which it had already cost me. Even novelty, that idol of spoilt children, could scarcely defend me from weariness and disgust. In the more intellectual part of my anticipated amusement I was completely disappointed; for the attempts made to support character were few and feeble. The whole entertainment, for the sake of which I had broken my promise, implied, if not expressed, – for the sake of which I had given the finishing stroke to the unkindness, ingratitude, and contumacy of my behaviour towards my mother's friend, – amounted to nothing more than looking at a multitude of motley habits, for the most part mean, tawdry, and unbecoming; and listening to disjointed dialogues, consisting of dull questions and unmeaning answers, thinly bestrown with constrained witticisms, and puns half a century old. The easy flow of conversation, which makes even trifles pass agreeably, was destroyed by the supposed necessity of being smart; and the eloquence of the human eye, of the human smile, was wanting to add interest to what was vapid, and kindliness to what was witty. Lord Frederick, indeed, did what he could to enliven the scene. He pointed out the persons whom he knew through their disguises; and desired me to observe how generally each affected the character which he found the least attainable in common life. 'That,' said he, 'is Glendower in the dress of a conjurer. That virgin of the sun is Lady B – , whose divorce-bill is to be before the House to-morrow. That Minerva is Lady Maria de Burgh; and that figure next to her is Miss Sarah Winterfield, who has stuck a flaxen wig upon her grizzled pate that she may for once pass for a Venus.'

      'If I am to judge by your rule,' said I, 'you must be content to be taken for some Christian slave, snatching a transitory greatness.'

      'You guess well, fair Fatima; I am indeed a slave; and these royal robes are meant to conceal my chains from all but my lovely mistress.'

      'Why then do you confess them so freely to me?'

      'Because I am persuaded that this envious mask conceals the face of my sultana.'

      'No, no; by your rule I must be some stern old gouvernante, who have locked up your sultana, and come to seize the pleasures which I deny to her.'

      'Oh! here my rule is useless; for, from what I see, I can guess very correctly what is concealed. For instance, there is first a pair of saucy hazel eyes, sparkling through their long fringes. Cheeks of roses – '

      'Pshaw! commonplace

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