Very shortly after this most undeserved disappointment, the
Memorialist—who must still, perforce, mingle, partially, something of
her own memoirs with those of her father, with which, at this period,
they were indispensably linked—met, by his own immediate request,
Mr. Smelt, at the house of Mrs. Delany, who was then at her London
dwelling, in St. James’s Place.
He expressed the most obliging concern at the precipitancy of the Lord
Chamberlain, who had disposed, he said, of the place before he knew
the King’s pleasure; and Mr. Smelt scrupled not to confess that his
Majesty’s own intentions had by no means been fulfilled.
As soon in the evening as all visitors were gone, and only himself
and the Memorialist remained with Mrs. Delany, Mr. Smelt glided, with
a gentleness and delicacy that accompanied all his proceedings, into
the subject that had led him to demand this interview. And this was
no other than the offer of a place to the Memorialist in the private
establishment of the Queen.
Her surprise was considerable; though by no means what she would
have felt had such an offer not been preceded by the most singular
graciousness. Nevertheless, a mark of personal favour so unsolicited,
so unthought of, could not but greatly move her: and the moment of
disappointment and chagrin to her father at which it occurred; with
the expressive tone and manner in which it was announced by Mr. Smelt,
brought it close to her heart, as an intended and benevolent mark
of goodness to her father himself, that might publicly manifest how
little their Majesties had been consulted, when Dr. Burney had again so
unfairly been set aside.
But while these were the ideas that on the first moment awakened the
most grateful sensations towards their Majesties, others, far less
exhilarating, broke into their vivacity before they had even found
utterance. A morbid stroke of sickly apprehension struck upon her
mind with forebodings of separation from her father, her family, her
friends; a separation which, when there is neither distress to enforce,
nor ambition to stimulate a change, can have one only equivalent, or
inducement, for an affectionate female; namely, a home of her own with
a chosen partner; and even then, the filial sunderment, where there is
filial tenderness, is a pungent drawback to all new scenes of life.
Nevertheless, she was fully sensible that here, though there was
not that potent call to bosom feelings, there was honour the most
gratifying in a choice so perfectly spontaneous; and favour amounting
to kindness, from a quarter whence such condescension could not but
elevate with pleasure, as well as charm and penetrate with gratitude
and respect.
Still—the separation,—for the residence was to be invariably at the
Palace;—the total change of life; the relinquishing the brilliant
intellectual circle into which she had been so flatteringly invited—