be your case. I have sent your bracelet to you by Mr. Clarence Hervey,
an acquaintance of Lady Delacour, an uncommonly pleasant young man,
highly connected, a wit and a gallant, and having a fine independent
fortune; so, my dear Belinda, I make it a point--look well when he is
introduced to you, and remember that nobody _can_ look well without
taking some pains to please."

Belinda had been charmed by Lady Delacour, who was the most agreeable,
the most fascinating person she had ever beheld; and to be a visitor at
her house was a delightful privilege. But, a short time after her
arrival, she began to see through the thin veil with which politeness
covers domestic misery. Abroad, Lady Delacour appeared all spirit, life,
and good humour; at home, listless, fretful, and melancholy, a prey to
thoughts, seemingly, of the most painful nature.

The first time Belinda saw his lordship he was dead drunk in the arms of
two footmen; his lady, who had just returned from Ranelagh, passed him
on the stairs with the utmost contempt.

"Don't look so shocked and amazed, Belinda. Don't look so _new_, child.
This funeral of my lord's intellects is to me a nightly ceremony; or,"
said her ladyship, looking at her watch and yawning, "I believe I should
say a daily ceremony--six o'clock, I protest!"

The next morning Clarence Hervey called, and Belinda found him a most
uncommonly pleasant young man. Lord Delacour was jealous of him; but
although he would have started with horror at the idea of disturbing the
peace of a family, in that family, he said, there was no peace to
disturb. Consequently, he visited her ladyship every day, and every day
viewed Belinda with increasing admiration, and with increasing dread of