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Basil Hall
Being Autobigraphical Sketches of His Own Career, from Fragments of Voyages and Travels
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As I rode on, ignorant as yet of these and many other rich and rare beauties of this singular spot, and only admiring the general aspect of things, I began, for the first time, to reflect on the extreme awkwardness of my situation.
Here was I merely the bearer of an introductory letter to a lady, herself a guest in the house; and although it might have been allowable enough to have called to deliver such an introduction, had business or accident brought me to the neighbourhood, now it seemed rather a strong measure to travel fifty or sixty miles across a wild and disturbed country merely to pay a morning call. The inference that my intention was to make a visit of some duration, became inevitable; and I pictured to myself the string of explanations I had to give, which might, after all, not be followed by any invitation to remain. After long cogitations, I resolved to steal up to the house, if possible, unperceived; have my horse turned over to the groom, and my portmanteau stowed out of sight, and then to walk boldly up to the door, with a visiting-card in one hand, and my credentials in the other, to be delivered to the servant for the lady to whom the letter was addressed. I next proposed to stroll about the woods, to give time for any good things said of the bearer to work their way, hoping, by this rather clumsy manoeuvre, that by the time I returned to the house its inmates might be prepared to receive the stranger; and then, if their invitation to remain should happen not to be very pressing, I might pretend to be collecting specimens for my geological friends, and so make my escape; though, to own the truth, nothing was farther from my thoughts than geology.
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