The Collected Works of Frances Burney (Illustrated Edition). Frances Burney
“Did Miss Mirvan, then, persuade you to this journey?”
“Yes, and we’ve been travelling all night.”
“We!” cried I: “Is Miss Mirvan, then, with you?”
“What, Molly? — yes, she’s in that there chaise.”
“Good God, Sir, why did you not tell me sooner?” cried I; and immediately, with Lord Orville’s assistance, I jumped out of the phaeton, and ran to the dear girl. Lord Orville opened the chaise door; and I am sure I need not tell you what unfeigned joy accompanied our meeting.
We both begged we might not be parted during the ride; and Lord Orville was so good as to invite Captain Mirvan into his phaeton.
I think I was hardly ever more rejoiced than at this so seasonable visit from my dear Maria; who had no sooner heard the situation of my affairs, than with the assistance of Lady Howard, and her kind mother, she besought her father with such earnestness to consent to the journey, that he had not been able to withstand their united intreaties; though she owned that, had he not expected to have met with Madame Duval, she believes he would not so readily have yielded. They arrived at Mrs. Beaumont’s but a few minutes after we were out of sight, and overtook us without much difficulty.
I say nothing of our conversation, because you may so well suppose both the subjects we chose, and our manner of discussing them.
We all stopped at a great hotel, where we were obliged to enquire for a room, as Lady Louisa, fatigued to death, desired to take something before we began our rambles.
As soon as the party was assembled, the Captain, abruptly saluting me, said, “So, Miss Belmont, I wish you joy; so I hear you’ve quarrelled with your new name already?”
“Me! — no, indeed, Sir.”
“Then please for to tell me the reason you’re in such a hurry to change it?”
“Miss Belmont!” cried Mr. Lovel. Looking around him with the utmost astonishment: “I beg pardon; — but, if it is not impertinent — I must beg leave to say I always understood that lady’s name was Anville.”
“‘Fore George,” cried the Captain, “it runs in my head, I’ve seen you somewhere before! And now I think on’t, pray a’n’t you the person I saw at the play one night, and who didn’t know, all the time, whether it was a tragedy or a comedy, or a concert of fiddlers?”
“I believe, Sir,” said Mr. Lovel, stammering, “I, had once — I think — the pleasure of seeing you last spring.”
“Aye, and if I live an hundred springs,” answered he, “I shall never forget it; by Jingo, it has served me for a most excellent good joke ever since. Well, howsomever, I’m glad to see you still in the land of the living,” (shaking him roughly by the hand.) “Pray, if a body may be so bold, how much a night may you give at present to keep the undertakers aloof?”
“Me, Sir!” said Mr. Lovel, very much discomposed; “I protest I never thought myself in such imminent danger as to — really, Sir, I don’t understand you.”
“O, you don’t! why then I’ll make free for to explain myself. Gentlemen and Ladies, I’ll tell you what; do you know this here gentleman, simple as he sits there, pays five shillings a-night to let his friends know he’s alive!”
“And very cheap too,” said Mrs. Selwyn, “if we consider the value of the intelligence.”
Lady Louisa being now refreshed, we proceeded upon our expedition.
The charming city of Bath answered all my expectations. The Crescent, the prospect from it, and the elegant symmetry of the Circus, delighted me. The Parades, I own, rather disappointed me; one of them is scarce preferable to some of the best paved streets in London; and the other, though it affords a beautiful prospect, a charming view of Prior Park and of the Avon, yet wanted something in itself of more striking elegance than a mere broad pavement, to satisfy the ideas I had formed of it.
At the pump-room, I was amazed at the public exhibition of the ladies in the bath; it is true, their heads are covered with bonnets; but the very idea of being seen, in such a situation, by whoever pleases to look, is indelicate.
“‘Fore George,” said the Captain, looking into the bath, “this would be a most excellent place for old Madame French to dance a fandango in! By Jingo, I wou’dn’t wish for better sport than to swing her round this here pond!”
“She would be very much obliged to you,” said Lord Orville, “for so extraordinary a mark of your favour.”
“Why, to let you know,” answered the Captain, “she hit my fancy mightily; I never took so much to an old tabby before.”
“Really now,” cried Mr. Lovel, looking also into the bath, “I must confess it is, to me, very incomprehensible why the ladies choose that frightful unbecoming dress to bathe in! I have often pondered very seriously upon the subject, but could never hit upon the reason.”
“Well, I declare,” said Lady Louisa, “I should like of all things to set something new a-going; I always hated bathing, because one can get no pretty dress for it! now do, there’s a good creature, try to help me to something.”
“Who, me! — O, dear Ma’am,” said he, simpering, “I can’t pretend to assist a person of your Ladyship’s tastes; besides, I have not the least head for fashions. — I really don’t think I ever invented above three in my life! But I never had the least turn for dress — never any notion of fancy or elegance.”
“O fie, Mr. Lovel! how can you talk so? — don’t we all know that you lead the ton in the beau monde? I declare, I think you dress better than any body.”
“O, dear Ma’am, you confuse me to the last degree! I dress well! — I protest I don’t think I’m ever fit to be seen! I’m often shocked to death to think what a figure I go. If your Ladyship will believe me, I was full half an hour this morning thinking what I should put on!”
“Odds my life,” cried the Captain, “I wish I’d been near you! I warrant I’d have quickened your motions a little; Half an hour thinking what you’d put on; and who the deuce do you think cares the snuff of a candle whether you’ve any thing on or not?”
“O pray, Captain,” cried Mrs. Selwyn, “don’t be angry with the gentleman for thinking, whatever be the cause, for I assure you he makes no common practice of offending in that way.”
“Really, Ma’am, you’re prodigiously kind,” said Mr. Lovel, angrily.
“Pray now,” said the Captain, “did you ever get a ducking in that there place yourself?”
“A ducking, Sir!” repeated Mr. Lovel: “I protest I think that’s rather an odd term! — but if you mean a bathing, it is an honour I have had many times.”
“And pray, if a body may be so bold, what do you do with that frizle-frize top of your own? Why, I’ll lay you what you will, there is fat and grease enough on your crown to buoy you up, if you were to go in head downwards.”
“And I don’t know,” cried Mrs. Selwyn, “but that might be the easiest way; for I’m sure it would be the lightest.”
“For the matter of that there,” said the Captain, “you must make him a soldier, before you can tell which is lightest, head or heels. Howsomever, I’d lay ten pounds to a shilling, I could whisk him so dexterously over into the pool, that he should light plump upon his foretop and turn round like a tetotum.”
“Done!” cried Lord Merton; “I take your odds.”
“Will you?” returned he; “why, then, ‘fore George, I’d do it as soon as say Jack Robinson.”
“He, he!” faintly laughed Mr. Lovel, as he moved abruptly from the window; “‘pon honour, this is pleasant enough; but I don’t see what right any body has to lay wagers about one