nearly killed
her job horses in driving about from one acquaintance to another, to
represent my unheard-of atrocity in presuming to deceive my betters.
Harcourt, who had agreed to live with me--Harcourt, who had praised my
magnanimity in making the disclosure--even Harcourt fell off; and about
a fortnight after I had arrived in town, told me that not finding the
lodgings so convenient as his former abode, he intended to return to it.
He took a friendly leave; but I perceived that if we happened to meet
in the streets, he often contrived to be looking another way; and at
last, a slight recognition was all that I received. Satisfied that it
was intended, I no longer noticed him: he followed but the example of
others. So great was the outcry raised by those who had hoped to have
secured me as a good match, that any young man of fashion who was seen
with me, had, by many, his name erased from their visiting lists. This
decided my fate, and I was alone. For some time I bore up proudly; I
returned a glance of defiance, but this could not last. The treatment
of others received a slight check from the kindness of Lord Windermear,
who repeatedly asked me to his table; but I perceived that even there,
although suffered as a protege of his lordship, anything more than
common civility was studiously avoided, in order that no intimacy might
result. Mr Masterton, upon whom I occasionally called, saw that I was
unwell and unhappy. He encouraged me; but, alas! a man must be more
than mortal, who, with fine feelings, can endure the scorn of the world.
Timothy, poor fellow, who witnessed more of my unhappy state of mind
than anybody else, offered in vain his consolation. "And this," thought
I, "is the reward of virtue and honesty. Truly, virtue is its own
reward, for it obtains no other. As long as I was under false colours,
allowing the world to deceive themselves, I was courted and flattered.
Now that I have thrown off the mask, and put on the raiment of truth, I
am a despised, miserable being. Yes; but is not this my own fault? Did
I not, by my own deception, bring all this upon myself? Whether
unmasked by others, or by myself, is it not equally true that I have
been playing false, and am now punished for it? What do the world care
for your having returned to truth? You have offended by deceiving them,
and that is an offence which your repentance will not extenuate." It
was but too true, I had brought it all on myself,