The mistress of the house perceiving the young man who brought the letter came upon business to the ladies, had the good-manners to leave the room, that they might talk with the greater freedom. Miss Betsy asked a thousand questions; but he was able to inform her of no farther particulars than what the letter contained.
The moment he was gone, she ran up to her chamber, threw herself upon the bed, and in a flood of tears gave a loose to the most poignant vexation she had ever yet experienced. Miss Flora followed; and, seeing her in this condition, thought she could do no less, in decency, than contribute everything in her power for her consolation.
By the behaviour of this young lady in other respects, however, the reader will easily perceive it was more through policy than real good-nature, she treated her afflicted companion with the tenderness she did now: she knew that it was not by an open quarrel with Miss Betsy she could wreak any part of the spite she had conceived against her; and was therefore glad to lay hold of this opportunity to be reconciled.
'I was afraid, my dear,' said she, 'that it would come to this, and that put me in so great a passion with you yesterday, for telling Mr. Francis any thing of the matter: the men are such creatures, that there is no trusting them with any thing. But come,' continued she, kissing her cheek, 'don't grieve and torment yourself in this manner; you find there is no danger of death on either side; and as for the rest, it will all blow off in time.' Miss Betsy said little to this; the sudden passion of her soul must have it's vent; but, when that was over, she began to listen to the voice of comfort, and by degrees to resume her natural vivacity, not foreseeing that this unhappy adventure would lay her under mortifications which, to a person of her spirit, were very difficult to be borne.
CHAPTER X
Gives the catastrophe of the Oxford ramble, and in what manner the young ladies returned to London
If the wounds Mr. Francis had received, had been all the misfortune attending Miss Betsy in this adventure, it is probable, that as she every day heard he was in a fair way of recovery, the first gust of passion would have been all she had sustained; but she soon found other consequences arising from it, which were no less afflicting, and more galling to her pride.
The quarrel between the two young gentlemen, and the occasion of it, was presently blazed over the whole town: it spread like wild fire; every one made their several comments upon it; and few there were who endeavoured to find any excuse for the share Miss Betsy and Miss Flora had in it.
The ladies of Oxford are commonly more than ordinarily circumspect in their behaviour; as indeed, it behoves them to be, in a place where there are such a number of young gentlemen, many of whom pursue pleasure more than study, and scruple nothing for the gratification of their desires. It is not, therefore, to be wondered at, that being from their infancy trained up in the most strict reserve, and accustomed to be upon their guard against even the most distant approaches of the other sex, they should be apt to pass the severest censures on a conduct, which they had been always taught to look upon as the sure destruction of reputation, and frequently fatal to innocence and virtue.
This being pretty generally the characteristick of those ladies who were of any distinction in Oxford, Miss Betsy and Miss Flora immediately found, that while they continued there, they must either be content to sit at home alone, or converse only with such as were as disagreeable to them, as they had now rendered themselves to those of a more unblemished fame.
They had received several visits, all of which they had not yet had time or leisure to return; but now going to pay the debt, which complaisance demanded from them, they were denied access at every place they went to; all the persons were either abroad or indisposed: but the manner in which these answers were given, easily convinced Miss Betsy and Miss Flora that they were no more than mere pretences to avoid seeing them. In the publick walks, and in passing through the streets, they saw themselves shunned even to a degree of rudeness: those of their acquaintance, who were obliged to meet them, looked another way, and went hastily on without vouchsafing a salute.
This was the treatment their late unhappy adventure drew on them from those of their own sex; nor did those of the other seem to behave to them with greater tenderness or respect, especially the younger students, who all, having got the story, thought they had a fine opportunity of exercising their poetick talents: satires and lampoons flew about like hail. Many of these anonymous compositions were directed to Miss Betsy, and thrown over the rails into the area of the house where she lodged; others were sung under the windows by persons in disguise, and copies of them handed about throughout the whole town, to the great propagation of scandal, and the sneering faculty.
Never, certainly, did pride and vanity meet with a more severe humiliation, than what these witticisms inflicted on those who, by their inconsiderate behaviour, had laid themselves open to them. Neither the assurance of Miss Flora, nor the great spirit of Miss Betsy, could enable them to stand the shock of those continual affronts which every day presented them with. They dreaded to expose themselves to fresh insults, if they stirred out of the doors; and at home they were persecuted with the unwearied remonstrances of their grave landlady: so that their condition was truly pitiable.
Both of them were equally impatient to get out of a place where they found their company was held in so little estimation: but Miss Betsy thought her brother would not take it well, should she go to London and leave him in the condition he then was. Miss Flora's importunities, however, joined to the new occasions she every day had for increasing her discontent on staying, got the better of her apprehensions; and she wrote to her brother in the following terms.
'To Mr. Francis Thoughtless.
Dear Brother,
Though I am not, to my great affliction, permitted to see you, or to offer that assistance which might be expected from a sister in your present situation; yet I cannot, without the extremest regret, resolve to quit Oxford before you are perfectly recovered of those hurts you have received on my account. However, as by your judging it improper for me to come to you, I cannot suppose you are wholly unacquainted with the severe usage lately given me, and must look on every affront offered to me as an indignity to you. I am apt to flatter myself you will not be offended, that I wish to remove from a place where innocence is no defence against scandal, and the shew of virtue more considered than the reality.
Nevertheless, I shall determine nothing till I hear your sentiments; which, if I find conformable to mine, shall set out for London with all possible expedition. I would very fain see you before I go; and, if you consent, will come to you so muffled up as not to be known by any who may happen to meet me. I shall expect your answer with the utmost impatience; being, my dear brother, by friendship, as well as blood, most affectionately yours,
E. Thoughtless.'
When this letter was dispatched, Miss Flora made use of all the arguments she was mistress of, in order to persuade Miss Betsy to go for London, even in case her brother should not be altogether so willing for it as she wished he would. Miss Betsy, though no less eager than herself to be out of a place she now so much detested, would not be prevailed upon to promise any thing on this score; but persisted in her resolution of being wholly directed how to proceed, by the answer she should receive from Mr. Francis.
Miss Flora was so fretted at this perverseness, as she called it, that she told her, in a very great pet, that she might stay if she pleased, and be the laughing-stock of the town; but, for her own part, she had more spirit, and would be gone the next day. Miss Betsy coolly replied,