MISS GRANDISON, TO MISS BYRON
THURSDAY NIGHT.
Unreasonable, wicked, cruel Byron! To expect a poor creature, so near
her execution, to write an account of other people's behaviour in the
same tremendous circumstances! The matrimonial noose has hung over my
head for some time past; and now it is actually fitted to my devoted
neck.--Almost choaked, my dear!--This moment done hearing read, the
firsts, seconds, thirds, fourths, to near a dozen of them--Lord be
merciful to us!--And the villanous lawyer rearing up to me his spectacled
nose, as if to see how I bore it! Lord G---- insulting me, as I thought,
by his odious leers: Lady Gertrude simpering; little Emily ready to bless
herself--How will the dear Harriet bear these abominable recitatives?--
But I am now up stairs from them all, in order to recover my breath, and
obey my Byron.
Well, but what am I now to say about the Danbys? Richard has made his
report; Sir Charles has told us some things: yet I will only give you
heads: make out the rest.
In the first place, my brother went to Mrs. Harrington's (Miss Danby's
aunt:) she did every thing but worship him. She had with her two young
ladies, relations of her late husband, dainty damsels of the city, who
had procured themselves to be invited, that they might see the man, whom
they called, a wonder of generosity and goodness. Richard heard one of
them say to the other, Ah, sister, this is a king of a man! What pity
there are not many such! But, Harriet, if there were a hundred of them,
we would not let one of them go into the city for a wife; would we, my
dear?
Sir Charles praised Miss Danby. She was full of gratitude; and of
humility, I suppose. Meek, modest, and humble, are qualities of which
men are mighty fond in women. But matrimony, and a sense of obligation,
are equally great humblers even of spirits prouder than that of Miss
Danby; as your poor Charlotte can testify.
The young gentlemen, with the rest, were to meet Sir Charles, the bride,
and these ladies, at St. Helen's, I think the church is called.
As if wedlock were an honour, the Danby girl, in respect to Sir Charles,
was to be first yoked. He gave her away to the son Galliard. The father
Galliard gave his daughter to Edward Danby: but first Mr. Hervey gave his
niece to the elder.
One of the brides, I forget which, fainted away; another half-fainted--
Saved by timely salts: the third, poor soul, wept heartily--as I suppose
I shall do on Tuesday.
Never surely was there such a matrimony promoter, as my brother. God
give me soon my revenge upon him in the same way!
The procession afterwards was triumphant--Six coaches, four silly souls
in each; and to Mr. Poussin's, at Enfield, they all drove. There they
found another large company.
My brother was all cheerfulness; and both men and women seemed to contend
for his notice: but they were much disappointed at finding he meant to
leave them early in the evening.
One married lady, the wife of Sir ---- somebody, (I am very bad at
remembering the names of city knights,) was resolved, she said, since
they could not have Sir Charles to open the ball, to have one dance
before dinner with the handsomest man in England. The music was
accordingly called in; and he made no scruple to oblige the company on a
day so happy.
Do you know, Harriet, that Sir Charles is supposed to be one of the
finest dancers in England? Remember, my dear, that on Tuesday--[Lord
help me! I shall be then stupid, and remember nothing]--you take him out
yourself: and then you will judge for yourself of his excellence in this
science--May we not call dancing a science? If we judge by the few who
perform gracefully in it, I am sure we may; and a difficult one too.
O!--And remember, Harriet, that you get somebody to call upon him to
sing--You shall play--I believe I shall forget, in that only agreeable
moment of the day, (for you have a sweet finger, my love,) that I am the
principal fool in the play of the evening.
O, Harriet,--how can I, in the circumstances I am in, write any more
about these soft souls, and silly? Come to me by day-dawn, and leave me
not till--I don't know when. Come, and take my part, my dear: I shall
hate this man: he does nothing but hop, skip, and dance about me, grin
and make mouths; and every body upholds him in it.