Chapter 6
A Scene In Which Some Ladies Will Possibly Think Amelia's Conduct Exceptionable
Booth and his wife being left alone, a solemn silence prevailed during a few minutes. At last Amelia, who, though a good, was yet a human creatures said to her husband, 'Pray, my dear, do inform me what could put you into so great a passion when Mrs. Ellison first offered me the tickets for this masquerade?'
'I had rather you would not ask me,' said Booth. 'You have obliged me greatly in your ready acquiescence with my desire, and you will add greatly to the obligation by not enquiring the reason of it. This you may depend upon, Amelia, that your good and happiness are the great objects of all my wishes, and the end I propose in all my actions. This view alone could tempt me to refuse you anything, or to conceal anything from you.'
'I will appeal to yourself,' answered she, 'whether this be not using me too much like a child, and whether I can possibly help being a little offended at it?'
'Not in the least,' replied he; 'I use you only with the tenderness of a friend. I would only endeavour to conceal that from you which I think would give you uneasiness if you knew. These are called the pious frauds of friendship.'
'I detest all fraud,' says she; 'and pious is too good an epithet to be joined to so odious a word. You have often, you know, tried these frauds with no better effect than to teize and torment me. You cannot imagine, my dear, but that I must have a violent desire to know the reason of words which I own I never expected to have heard. And the more you have shown a reluctance to tell me, the more eagerly I have longed to know. Nor can this be called a vain curiosity, since I seem so much interested in this affair. If after all this, you still insist on keeping the secret, I will convince you I am not ignorant of the duty of a wife by my obedience; but I cannot help telling you at the same time you will make me one of the most miserable of women.'
'That is,' cries he, 'in other words, my dear Emily, to say, I will be contented without the secret, but I am resolved to know it, nevertheless.'
'Nay, if you say so,' cries she, 'I am convinced you will tell me. Positively, dear Billy, I must and will know.'
'Why, then, positively,' says Booth, 'I will tell you. And I think I shall then shew you that, however well you may know the duty of a wife, I am not always able to behave like a husband. In a word then, my dear, the secret is no more than this; I am unwilling you should receive any more presents from my lord.'
'Mercy upon me!' cries she, with all the marks of astonishment; 'what! a masquerade ticket!'--
'Yes, my dear,' cries he; 'that is, perhaps, the very worst and most dangerous of all. Few men make presents of those tickets to ladies without intending to meet them at the place. And what do we know of your companion? To be sincere with you, I have not liked her behaviour for some time. What might be the consequence of going with such a woman to such a place, to meet such a person, I tremble to think. And now, my dear, I have told you my reason of refusing her offer with some little vehemence, and I think I need explain myself no farther.'
'You need not, indeed, sir,' answered she. 'Good Heavens! did I ever expect to hear this? I can appeal to heaven, nay, I will appeal to yourself, Mr. Booth, if I have ever done anything to deserve such a suspicion. If ever any action of mine, nay, if ever any thought, had stained the innocence of my soul, I could be contented.'
'How cruelly do you mistake me!' said Booth. 'What suspicion have I ever shewn?'
'Can you ask it,' answered she, 'after what you have just now declared?'
'If I have declared any suspicion of you,' replied he, 'or if ever I entertained a thought leading that way, may the worst of evils that ever afflicted human nature attend me! I know the pure innocence of that tender bosom, I do know it, my lovely angel, and adore it. The snares which might be laid for that innocence were alone the cause of my apprehension. I feared what a wicked and voluptuous man, resolved
