Bradley. Once more the blue party held up
its head in the ancient city, and Mr. Fairfax, Mr. Chiverton, and
others, their Tory contemporaries, were at ease again for the safety of
the country. Mr. Burleigh the elder had come from Carisfort for the
election, and he now for the first time saw the young lady of whom he
had heard so much. He was a very handsome but very rustic poor squire,
who troubled the society of cities little. Bessie's beauty was perfect
to his taste, especially when her blushes were revived by a certain
tender paternal significance and familiarity in his address to her. But
when the blushes cooled her spirit of mischief grew vivacious to repel
their false confession, and even Lady Angleby felt for a moment
disturbed. Only for a moment, however. She wished that Mr. Burleigh
would leave his country manners at home, and ascribing Bessie's shy
irritation to alarmed modesty, introduced a pleasant subject to divert
her thoughts.
"Is there to be a ball at Brentwood or no ball, Miss Fairfax?" said she
with amiable suggestion. "I think there was something mooted about a
ball if my nephew won his election, was there not?"
What could Bessie do but feel appeased, and brighten charmingly?--"Oh,
we shall dance for joy if you give us one; but if you don't think we
deserve it--" said she.
"Oh, as for your deserts--Well, Mary, we must have the dance for joy.
Cecil wishes it, and so, I suppose, do you all," said her ladyship with
comprehensive affability.
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