Nothing appeared more clear to Matilda, than the indifference of Captain Fitzroy to Miss Ferrars. The lively yet tender Arbella felt equally persuaded, that the clearing up a recent and slight misunderstanding, was all that was necessary to restore the amiable Spencer to her chains. Of this misunderstanding, as ridiculous in its cause as serious in its effects, she soon related the history to Matilda.

‘I have a very unfortunate habit,’ she said, ‘of suddenly saying whatever arises in my mind, without always considering the circumstances or situation of the persons present, which may sometimes make it awkward; for which reason, when I want to appear particularly discreet, I have no other resource than condemning myself to absolute silence, as I did in our first visit to Woodlands, before Miss Hautenville. Now one day, at Cheltenham, talking of some of the military in the neighbourhood we had left, I happened to observe, in a mixed company, of which Spencer was one, that in a country town, one might always guess the approaching departure of a regiment, by the wailings of the damsels, and the bustle among the taylors. At the moment, he did not appear to hear what was said; but, during the rest of our stay at Cheltenham, he never forgave me.’

Astonished at the frank and unasked acknowledgment of indiscretion and flippancy / so gross, in one whom she had accustomed herself to look upon as a model of elegant reserve, Matilda, whose own words and actions were ever bound ‘in the silken fetters of decorum,’ remained uneasy and uncertain what to reply, while her lively friend continued – 'This is not the only distress into which my unlucky “readiness at remark” has brought me; do you know, the whole of Miss Hautenville's envenomed hatred to me arises from as trifling a cause.