"Surely," said Miss Portman, "it is better for me to throw away fifty
guineas, poor as I am, than to hazard the happiness of my life. Your
ladyship knows that if I say _a_ to Mr. Hervey, I must say _b_. No, no, my
dear Lady Delacour; here is the draught for two hundred guineas: pay Mr.
Hervey, for Heaven's sake, and there is an end of the business."

"What a positive child it is! Well, then, it shall not be forced to say
the a, b, c, of Cupid's alphabet, to that terrible pedagogue, Clarence
Hervey, till it pleases: but seriously, Miss Portman, I am concerned that
you will make me take this draught: it is absolutely robbing you. But Lord
Delacour's the person you must blame--it is all his obstinacy: having once
said he would not pay for the horses, he would see them and me and the
whole human race expire before he would change his silly mind.--Next month
I shall have it in my power, my dear, to repay you with a thousand thanks;
and in a few months more we shall have another birthday, and a new star
shall appear in the firmament of fashion, and it shall be called Belinda.
In the mean time, my dear, upon second thoughts, perhaps we can get Mrs.
Franks to dispose of your drawing-room dress to some person of taste, and
you may keep your fifty guineas for the next occasion. I'll see what can
be done.--Adieu! a thousand thanks, silly child as you are."

Mrs. Franks at first declared that it would be an impossibility to dispose
of Miss Portman's dress, though she would do any thing upon earth to
oblige Lady Delacour; however, ten guineas made every thing possible.
Belinda rejoiced at having, as she thought, extricated herself at so cheap
a rate; and well pleased with her own conduct, she wrote to her aunt
Stanhope, to inform her of as much of the transaction as she could
disclose, without betraying Lady Delacour. "Her ladyship," she said, "had
immediate occasion for two hundred guineas, and to accommodate her with
this sum she had given up the idea of going to court."