In the first of these domestic and amical tours that were made after
the marriage of his second daughter, he suddenly turned out of his
direct road to take a view of the dwelling of the Hermits of Bookham;
in which rural village they were temporarily settled, in a small but
pleasant cottage, endeared for ever to their remembrance from having
been found out for them by Mr. Locke.
It was not, perhaps, without the spur of some latent solicitude, some
anxious incertitude, that Dr. Burney made this first visit to them
abruptly, at an early hour, and when believed far distant; and if so,
never were kind doubts more kindlily solved: he found all that most
tenderly he could wish—concord and content; gay concord, and grateful
content.
When he sent in his name from his post-chaise, the Hermits flew to
receive him; and ere he could reach the little threshold of the little
habitation, his daughter was in his arms. How long she there kept him
she knows not, but he was very patient at the detention! Tears of
pleasure standing in his full eyes at her rapturous reception; and at
witnessing the unsophisticated happiness of two beings who, from living
nearly in the front of life, nourished in retirement no wish but for
its continuance.