Читать книгу The Diary and Collected Letters of Madame D'Arblay, Frances Burney - Frances Burney - Страница 45

Friday was a busy and comical day. We had an engagement of long standing, to drink tea with Miss L—, whither we all went, and a most queer evening did we spend.

When we entered, she and all her company were looking out of the window; however, she found us out in a few minutes, and made us welcome in a strain of delight and humbleness at receiving us, that put her into a flutter of spirits, from which she never recovered all the evening.

Her fat, jolly mother took her seat at the top of the room; next to her sat a lady in a riding habit, whom I soon found to be Mrs. Dobson;⁸⁹ below her sat a gentlewoman, prim, upright, neat, and mean; and, next to her, sat another, thin, haggard, wrinkled, fine, and tawdry, with a thousand frippery ornaments and old-fashioned furbelows; she was excellently nick-named, by Mrs. Thrale, the Duchess of Monmouth. On the opposite side was placed Mrs. Thrale, and, next to her, Queeny. For my own part, little liking the appearance of the set, and half dreading Mrs. Dobson, from whose notice I wished to escape, I had made up myself to one of the now deserted windows, and Mr. Thrale had followed me. As to Miss L—, she came to stand by me, and her panic, I fancy, returned, for she seemed quite panting with a desire to say something, and an incapacity to utter it.

It proved happy for me that I had taken this place, for in a few minutes the mean, neat woman, whose name was Aubrey, asked if Miss Thrale was Miss Thrale?

“Yes, ma’am.”

“And pray, ma’am, who is that other young lady?”

“A daughter of Dr. Burney’s, ma’am.”

“What!” cried Mrs. Dobson, “is that the lady that has favoured us with that excellent novel?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

Then burst forth a whole volley from all at once. “Very extraordinary, indeed!” said one;—“Dear heart, who’d have thought it?” said another,—“I never saw the like in my life!” said a third. And Mrs. Dobson, entering more into detail, began praising it through, but chiefly Evelina herself, which she said was the most natural character she had ever met in any book.

Mr. and Mrs. Whalley now arrived, and I was obliged to go to a chair—when such staring followed; they could not have opened their eyes wider when they first looked at the Guildhall giants! I looked with all the gravity and demureness possible, in order to keep them from coming plump to the subject again, and, indeed this, for a while, kept them off.

Soon after, Dr. Harrington⁹⁰ arrived, which closed our party. Miss L— went whispering to him, and then came up to me, with a look of dismay, and said,

“O, ma’am, I’m so prodigiously concerned; Mr. Henry won’t come!”

“Who, ma’am?”

“Mr. Henry, ma’am, the doctor’s son. But, to be sure, he does not know you are here, or else—but I’m quite concerned, indeed, for here now we shall have no young gentlemen!”

“O, all the better,” cried I, “I hope we shall be able to do very well without.”

“O yes, ma’am, to be sure. I don’t mean for any common young gentlemen; but Mr. Henry, ma’am, it’s quite another thing;—however, I think he might have come but I did not happen to mention in my card that you was to be here, and so—but I think it serves him right for not coming to see me.”

Soon after the mamma hobbled to me, and began a furious Panegyric upon my book, saying at the same time,

“I wonder, Miss, how you could get at them low characters. As to the lords and ladies, that’s no wonder at all; but, as to t’others, why, I have not stirred night nor morning while I’ve been reading it; if I don’t wonder how you could be so clever!”

And much, much more. And, scarcely had she unburthened herself, ere Miss L—trotted back to me, crying, in a tone of mingled triumph and vexation,

“Well, ma’am, Mr. Henry will be very much mortified when he knows who has been here; that he will, indeed; however, I’m sure he deserves it!”

I made some common sort of reply, that I hoped he was better engaged, which she vehemently declared was impossible.

We had now some music. Miss L— sung various old elegies of Jackson, Dr. Harrington, and Linley, and O how I dismalled in hearing them! Mr. Whalley, too, sung “Robin Gray,” and divers other melancholic ballads, and Miss Thrale Sang “Ti seguiro fedele.” But the first time there was a cessation of harmony, Miss L— again respectfully approaching me, cried,

“O well, all my comfort is that Mr. Henry will be prodigiously mortified! But there’s a ball to-night, so I suppose he’s gone to that. However, I’m sure if he had known of meeting you young ladies here—but it’s all good enough for him, for not coming.”

“Nay,” cried I, “if meeting young ladies is a motive with him, he can have nothing to regret while at a ball, where he will see many more than he could here.”

“O, ma’am, as to that—but I say no more, because it mayn’t be proper; but, to be sure, if Mr. Henry had known—however, he’ll be well mortified!” . . .

I was not two minutes relieved, ere Miss I—returned, to again assure me how glad she was that Mr. Henry would be mortified. The poor lady was quite heart-broken that we did not meet.