The Diary and Collected Letters of Madame D'Arblay, Frances Burney. Frances Burney
it can’t be-I don’t believe it!—no, you are an impostor!”
Sir Joshua and Lord Palmerston were both at her side—oh, how notably silly must I look! She again repeated her question of “Is it true?” and I again affected not to understand her: and then Sir Joshua, taking hold on her arm, attempted to pull her away, saying
“Come, come, Mrs. Cholmondeley, I won’t have her overpowered here!”
I love Sir Joshua much for this. But Mrs. Cholmondeley, turning to him, said, with quickness and vehemence:—
“Why, I a’n’t going to kill her! don’t be afraid, I sha’n’t compliment her!—I can’t, indeed!”
Then, taking my hand, she led me through them all, to another part of the room, where again she examined my phiz, and viewed and reviewed my whole person.
“Now,” said she, “do tell me; is it true?”
“What, ma’am?—I don’t-I don’t know what—”
“Pho! what,—why you know what: in short, can you read? and can you write?”
“No, ma’am!”
“I thought so,” cried she, “I have suspected it was a trick, some time, and now I am sure of it. You are too young by half!—it can’t be!”
I laughed, and would have got away, but she would not let me.
“No,” cried she, “one thing you must, at least, tell me;—are you very conceited? Come, answer me,” continued she. “You won’t? Mrs. Burney, Dr. Burney,—come here,—tell me if she is not very conceited?—if she is not eat up with conceit by this time?”
They were both pleased to answer “Not half enough.”
“Well,” exclaimed she, “that is the most wonderful part of all! Why, that is yet more extraordinary than writing the book.”
I then got away from her, and again looked over Miss Palmer’s cards: but she was after me in a minute,
“Pray, Miss Burney,” cried she, aloud, “do you know any thing of this game?”
“No, ma’am.”
“No?” repeated she, “ma foi, that’s pity!”49
This raised such a laugh, I was forced to move on; yet everybody seemed to be afraid to laugh, too, and studying to be delicate, as if they had been cautioned; which, I have since found, was really the case, and by Sir Joshua himself.
Again, however, she was at my side.
“What game do you like, Miss Burney?” cried she.
“I play at none, ma’am.”
“No? Pardie, I wonder at that! Did you ever know such a toad?”
Again I moved on, and got behind Mr. W. Burke, who, turning round to me, said,—
“This is not very politic in us, Miss Burney, to play at cards, and have you listen to our follies.”
There’s for you! I am to pass for a censoress now.
Mrs. Cholmondeley hunted me quite round the card-table, from chair to chair, repeating various speeches of Madame Duval; and when, at last, I got behind a sofa, out of her reach, she called out aloud, “Polly, Polly! only think! Miss has danced with a Lord.”
Some time after, contriving to again get near me, she began flirting her fan, and exclaiming, “Well, miss, I have had a beau, I assure you! ay, and a very pretty beau too, though I don’t know if his lodgings were so prettily furnished, and everything, as Mr. Smith’s.”50
Then, applying to Mr. Cholmondeley, she said, “Pray, sir, what is become of my lottery ticket?”
“I don’t know,” answered he.
“Pardie” cried she, “you don’t know nothing.”
I had now again made off, and, after much rambling, I at last seated myself near the card-table: but Mrs. Cholmondeley was after me in a minute, and drew a chair next mine. I now found it impossible to escape, and therefore forced myself to sit still. Lord Palmerston and Sir Joshua, in a few moments, seated themselves by us.
I must now write dialogue-fashion, to avoid the enormous length of Mrs. C.‘s name.
Mrs. C.—I have been very ill; monstrous ill indeed or else I should have been at your house long ago. Sir Joshua, pray how do you do? you know, I suppose, that I don’t come, to see you?
Sir Joshua could only laugh, though this was her first address to him.
Mrs. C.—Pray, miss, what’s your name?
F.B.—Frances, ma’am.
Mrs. C.—Fanny? Well, all the Fanny’s are excellent and yet, my name is Mary! Pray, Miss Palmers, how are you?—though I hardly know if I shall speak to you to-night, I thought I should have never got here! I have been so out of humour with the people for keeping me. If you but knew, cried I, to whom I am going to-night, and who I shall see to-night, you would not dare keep me muzzing here!
During all these pointed speeches, her penetrating eyes were fixed upon me; and what could I do?—what, indeed, could anybody do, but colour and simper?—all the company watching us, though all, very delicately, avoided joining the confab.
Mrs. C.—My Lord Palmerston, I was told to-night that nobody could see your lordship for me, for that you supped at my house every night. Dear, bless me, no! cried I, not every night! and I looked as confused as I was able; but I am afraid I did not blush, though I tried hard for it.
Then, again, turning to me,
That Mr. What-d’ye-call-him, in Fleet-street, is a mighty silly fellow;—perhaps you don’t know who I mean?—one T. Lowndes,—but maybe you don’t know such a person?
FB.—No, indeed, I do not!—that I can safely say.
Mrs. C.—I could get nothing from him: but I told him I hoped he gave a good price; and he answered me that he always did things genteel. What trouble and tagging we had! Mr. (I cannot recollect the name she mentioned) laid a wager the writer was a man:—I said I was sure it was a woman: but now we are both out; for it’s a girl!
In this comical, queer, flighty, whimsical manner she ran on, till we were summoned to supper; for we were not allowed to break up before: and then, when Sir Joshua and almost everybody was gone down stairs, she changed her tone, and, with a face and voice both grave, said:
“Well, Miss Burney, you must give me leave to say one thing to you; yet, perhaps you won’t, neither, will you?”
“What is it, ma’am?”
“Why it is, that I admire you more than any human being and that I can’t help!”
Then suddenly rising, she hurried down stairs.
While we were upon the stairs, I heard Miss Palmer say to Miss Fanny Cholmondeley, “Well, you don’t find Miss Burney quite so tremendous as you expected?”
Sir Joshua made me sit next him at supper; Mr. William Burke was at my other side; though, afterwards, I lost the knight of Plimton,51 who, as he eats no suppers, made way for Mr. Gwatkin,52 and, as the table was crowded, himself stood at the fire. He was extremely polite and flattering in his manners to me, and entirely avoided all mention or hint at “Evelina” the whole evening: indeed, I think I have met more scrupulous delicacy from Sir Joshua than from anybody, although I have heard more of his approbation than of almost any other person’s.
Mr. W. Burke was immensely attentive at table; but, lest he should be thought a Mr. Smith for his pains, he took care, whoever he helped, to add, “You know I am all for the ladies!”
I was glad I was not