Damon and Delia | Page 4

though
they were all of them confined within the limits of decorum. Delia, on
the other hand, though she apparently received them with the most gay
indifference, in reality drank deep of the poison of love, and the words
of Damon made an impression upon her heart, that was not easily to be
erased.
But however delicious was the scene in which they were engaged, it
necessarily drew to a conclusion. The drowsy clocks now announced
the hour of three in the morning. The dances broke up, and the
company separated. Delia leaped into the chariot that was waiting, and
quickly arrived at the parental mansion. Fatigued with the various
objects that had passed before her, she immediately retired to rest. For
some time however a busy train of thoughts detained her from the
empire of sleep. "How lovely a stranger! How elegant his manners, and
how brilliant his wit! How soft and engaging the whole of his
behaviour! But ah! was this the fruit of reverence and admiration?
Might it not be no more than general gallantry? Oh that I were mistress
of his heart! That he would lay his person at my feet! What a contrast
between him and my former admirers! How doubly hateful does lord
Martin, the lover favoured by my father now appear! But ah! who is
this Damon? What is his fortune, and what his pretensions? His dress
surely bespoke him a man of rank. His elegant manners could have
been learned in no vulgar circle. How sweet, methinks is suspence!
How delightful the uncertainty that hangs about him! And yet, how
glad should I be to have my doubts resolved."

Soothed with these and similar reflections, the lovely maid fell asleep.
But even in sleep she did not forget the impressions she had received.
She imagined that Damon now approached her pillow. But how unlike
the Damon she had seen! His eyes had something in them superior to a
mortal. His shoulders were adorned with wings, and a vest of celestial
azure flowed around him. He smiled upon her with the most bewitching
grace. But the gentle maid involuntarily stretched out her arms towards
him, and the pleasing vision vanished from her sight.
Again she closed her eyes, and again she endeavoured to regain her
former object. Damon indeed appeared, but in how different a manner!
his countenance was impressed with every mark of horror, and he
seemed to fly before some who inveterately pursued him. They
appeared with the countenances of furies, and the snakes hissed around
their temples. Delia looked earnestly upon them, and presently
recollected the features of the admirers we have already celebrated. The
noble peer under the figure of Tisiphone, led the troop. Damon
stumbled and fell. Sudden as lightning Tisiphone reached the spot, and
plunged a dagger in his heart. She drew it forth reeking with blood, and
the lovely youth appeared in the agonies of death. Terrified beyond
measure, Delia screamed with horror and awoke.
In the midst of reveries like these, now agitated with apprehension, and
now soothed with pleasure, Delia passed the night. The sun appeared,
her gold repeater informed her that it was twelve, and, assisted by the
fair hands of Mrs. Bridget, she began to rise.
CHAPTER III.
A Ghost.
Mr. Hartley had breakfasted and walked out in the fields, before Delia
appeared. She had scarcely begun her morning repast, ere Miss Fletcher,
the favourite companion and confidante of Delia, entered the room.
"My dearest creature," cried the visitor, "how do you do? Had not we
not a most charming evening? I vow I was fatigued to death: and then,
lord Martin, I think he never appeared to so much advantage. Why he

was quite covered with diamonds, spangles, and frogs." "Ah!" cried
Delia, "but the young stranger." "True," answered Miss Fletcher, "I
liked him of all things; so tall, so genteel, and so sweetly perfumed.--I
cannot think who he is. I called upon Miss Griskin, and I called upon
Miss Savage, nobody knows. He is some great man." "When did he
come to town?" said Delia, "Where does he lodge?" "My dear, he came
to town yesterday in the evening, and went away again as soon as the
ball was over. But do not you think that Mr. Prattle's new suit of scarlet
sattin was vastly becoming? I vow I could have fallen in love with him.
He is so gay and so trifling, and so fond of hearing himself talk. Why,
does not he say a number of smart things?" "It is exessively strange,"
said Delia. (She was thinking of the stranger.) But Miss Fletcher went
on--"Not at all, my life. Upon my word I think he is always very
entertaining. He cuts out paper so prettily, and he has drawn me