The Collected Works of Frances Burney (Illustrated Edition). Frances Burney
may feel: for had I been the person of the most consequence in the room, I could not have met with more attention and respect.
When the dance was over, seeing me still very much flurried, he led me to a seat, saying that he would not suffer me to fatigue myself from politeness.
And then, if my capacity, or even, if my spirits had been better, in how animated a conversation I might have been engaged! it was then I saw that the rank of Lord Orville was his least recommendation, his understanding and his manners being far more distinguished. His remarks upon the company in general were so apt, so just, so lively, I am almost surprised myself that they did not reanimate me; but, indeed, I was too well convinced of the ridiculous part I had myself played before so nice an observer, to be able to enjoy his pleasantry: so self-compassion gave me feeling for others. Yet I had not the courage to attempt either to defend them or to rally in my turn; but listened to him in silent embarrassment.
When he found this, he changed the subject, and talked of public places, and public performers; but he soon discovered that I was totally ignorant of them.
He then, very ingeniously, turned the discourse to the amusements and occupations of the country.
It now struck me that he was resolved to try whether or not I was capable of talking upon any subject. This put so great a restraint upon my thoughts, that I was unable to go further than a monosyllable, and not ever so far, when I could possibly avoid it.
We were sitting in this manner, he conversing with all gaiety, I looking down with all foolishness, when that fop who had first asked me to dance, with a most ridiculous solemnity approached, and, after a profound bow or two, said, “I humbly beg pardon, Madam — and of you too, my Lord — for breaking in upon such agreeable conversation — which must, doubtless, be more delectable — than what I have the honour to offer — but —”
I interrupted him — I blush for my folly — with laughing; yet I could not help it; for, added to the man’s stately foppishness, (and he actually took snuff between every three words) when I looked around at Lord Orville, I saw such extreme surprise in his face — the cause of which appeared so absurd, that I could not for my life preserve my gravity.
I had not laughed before from the time I had left Miss Mirvan, and I had much better have cried then; Lord Orville actually stared at me; the beau, I know not his name, looked quite enraged. “Refrain–Madam,” said he, with an important air, “a few moments refrain! — I have but a sentence to trouble you with. — May I know to what accident I must attribute not having the honour of your hand?”
“Accident, Sir!” repeated I, much astonished.
“Yes, accident, Madam; — for surely — I must take the liberty to observe — pardon me, Madam — it ought to be no common one — that should tempt a lady — so young a one too — to be guilty of ill-manners.”
A confused idea now for the first time entered my head, of something I had heard of the rules of an assembly; but I was never at one before — I have only danced at school — and so giddy and heedless I was, that I had not once considered the impropriety of refusing one partner, and afterwards accepting another. I was thunderstruck at the recollection: but, while these thoughts were rushing into my head, Lord Orville with some warmth, said, “This Lady, Sir, is incapable of meriting such an accusation!”
The creature — for I am very angry with him — made a low bow and with a grin the most malicious I ever saw, “My Lord,” said he, “far be it from me to accuse the lady, for having the discernment to distinguish and prefer — the superior attractions of your Lordship.”
Again he bowed and walked off.
Was ever any thing so provoking? I was ready to die with shame. “What a coxcomb!” exclaimed Lord Orville: while I, without knowing what I did, rose hastily, and moving off, “I can’t imagine,” cried I, “where Mrs. Mirvan has hid herself!”
“Give me leave to see,” answered he. I bowed and sat down again, not daring to meet his eyes; for what must he think of me, between my blunder, and the supposed preference?
He returned in a moment, and told me that Mrs. Mirvan was at cards, but would be glad to see me; and I went immediately. There was but one chair vacant; so, to my great relief, Lord Orville presently left us. I then told Mrs. Mirvan my disasters; and she good-naturedly blamed herself for not having better instructed me; but said, she had taken it for granted that I must know such common customs. However, the man may, I think, be satisfied with his pretty speech and carry his resentment no farther.
In a short time Lord Orville returned. I consented, with the best grace I could, to go down another dance, for I had had time to recollect myself; and therefore resolved to use some exertion, and, if possible, to appear less a fool than I had hitherto done; for it occurred to me, that, insignificant as I was, compared to a man of his rank and figure; yet, since he had been so unfortunate as to make choice of me for a partner, why I should endeavour to make the best of it.
The dance, however, was short, and he spoke very little; so I had no opportunity of putting my resolution in practice. He was satisfied, I suppose, with his former successless efforts to draw me out or, rather, I fancied he had been inquiring who I was. This again disconcerted me; and the spirits I had determined to exert, again failed me. Tired, ashamed, and mortified, I begged to sit down till we returned home, which I did soon after. Lord Orville did me the honour to hand me to the coach, talking all the way of the honour I had done him! O these fashionable people!
Well, my dear Sir, was it not a strange evening? I could not help being thus particular, because, to me, every thing is so new. But it is now time to conclude.
I am, with all love and duty, your
EVELINA.
LETTER 12
EVELINA IN CONTINUATION
Tuesday, April 5.
There is to be no end to the troubles of last night. I have this moment, between persuasion and laughter, gathered from Maria the most curious dialogue that ever I heard. You will at first be startled at my vanity; but, my dear Sir, have patience!
It must have passed while I was sitting with Mrs. Mirvan, in the card-room. Maria was taking some refreshment, and saw Lord Orville advancing for the same purpose himself; but he did not know her, though she immediately recollected him. Presently after, a very gay-looking man, stepping hastily up to him cried, “Why, my Lord, what have you done with your lovely partner?”
“Nothing!” answered Lord Orville with a smile and a shrug.
“By Jove,” cried the man, “she is the most beautiful creature I ever saw in my life!”
Lord Orville, as he well might, laughed; but answered, “Yes, a pretty modest-looking girl.”
“O my Lord!” cried the madman, “she is an angel!”
“A silent one,” returned he.
“Why ay, my Lord, how stands she as to that? She looks all intelligence and expression.”
“A poor weak girl!” answered Lord Orville, shaking his head.
“By Jove,” cried the other, “I am glad to hear it!”
At that moment, the same odious creature who had been my former tormentor, joined them. Addressing Lord Orville with great respect, he said, “I beg pardon, my Lord — if I was — as I fear might be the case — rather too severe in my censure of the lady who is honoured with your protection — but, my Lord, ill-breeding is apt to provoke a man.”
“Ill-breeding!” cried my unknown champion, “impossible! that elegant face can never be so vile a mask!”
“O