charmer may be--no matter whether it be Lady Delacour or Belinda Portman.
I think I know Clarence Hervey's character _au fin fond_, and I could lead
him where I pleased: but don't be alarmed, my dear; you know I can't lead
him into matrimony. You look at me, and from me, and you don't well know
which way to look. You are surprised, perhaps, after all that passed, all
that I felt, and all that I still feel about poor Lawless, I should not be
cured of coquetry. So am I surprised; but habit, fashion, the devil, I
believe, lead us on: and then, Lord Delacour is so obstinate and
jealous--you can't have forgotten the _polite conversation_ that passed
one morning at breakfast between his lordship and me about Clarence
Hervey; but neither does his lordship know, nor does Clarence Hervey
suspect, that my object with him is to conceal from the world what I
cannot conceal from myself--that I am a dying woman. I am, and I see you
think me, a strange, weak, inconsistent creature. I was intended for
something better, but now it is too late; a coquette I have lived, and a
coquette I shall die: I speak frankly to you. Let me have the glory of
leading Clarence Hervey about with me in public for a few months longer,
then I must quit the stage. As to love, you know with me that is out of
the question; all I ask or wish for is admiration."

Lady Delacour paused, and leaned back on the sofa; she appeared in great
pain.

"Oh!--I am sometimes," resumed she, "as you see, in terrible pain. For two
years after I gave myself that blow with the pistol, I neglected the
warning twinges that I felt from time to time; at last I was terrified.
Marriott was the only person to whom I mentioned my fears, and she was
profoundly ignorant: she flattered me with false hopes, till, alas! it was
in vain to doubt of the nature of my complaint: then she urged me to
consult a physician; that I would not do--I could not--I never will