EVELINA IN CONTINUATION. Queen Ann Street, April 13.
HOW much will you be surprised, my dearest Sir, at receiving another
letter, from London, of your Evelina's writing! But, believe me, it
was not my fault, neither is it my happiness, that I am still here:
our journey has been postponed by an accident equally unexpected
and disagreeable.
We went last night to see the Fantoccini, where we had infinite
entertainment from the performance of a little comedy in French and
Italian, by puppets, so admirably managed, that they both astonished
and diverted us all, except the Captain, who has a fixed and most
prejudiced hatred of whatever is not English.
When it was over, while we waited for the coach, a tall elderly woman
brushed quickly past us, calling out, "My God, what shall I do?"
"Why, what would you do?" cried the Captain.
"Ma foi, Monsieur," answered she, "I have lost my company, and in
this place I don't know nobody."
There was something foreign in her accent, though it was difficult
to discover whether she was an English or a French woman. She was
very well dressed; and seemed so entirely at a loss what to do,
that Mrs. Mirvan proposed to the Captain to assist her.
"Assist her!" cried he, "ay, with all my heart;-let a link-boy call
her a coach."
There was not one to be had, and it rained very fast.
"Mon Dieu!" exclaimed the stranger, "what shall become of me? Je
suis au desespoir!"
"Dear Sir," cried Miss Mirvan, "pray let us take the poor lady into
our coach. She is quite alone, and a foreigner-"
"She's never the better for that," answered he: "she may be a woman
of the town, for anything you know."
"She does not appear such," said Mrs. Mirvan; "and indeed she seems
so much distressed, that we shall but follow the golden rule, if we
carry her to her lodgings."
"You are mighty fond of new acquaintance," returned he; "but first
let us know if she be going our way."
Upon inquiry, we found that she lived in Oxford Road; and, after
some disputing, the Captain surlily, and, with a very bad grace,
consented to admit her into his coach; though he soon convinced us,
that he was determined she should not be too much obliged to him,
for he seemed absolutely bent upon quarrelling with her: for which
strange inhospitality I can assign no other reason, than that she
appeared to be a foreigner.
The conversation began, by her telling us, that she had been in England
only two days; that the gentlemen belonging to her were Parisians,
and had left her to see for a hackney-coach, as her own carriage was
abroad; and that she had waited for them till she was quite frightened,
and concluded that they had lost themselves.
"And pray," said the Captain, "why did you go to a public place
without an Englishman?"
"Ma foi, Sir," answered she, "because none of my acquaintance is
in town."
"Why then," said he, "I'll tell you what, your best way is to go out
of it yourself."
"Pardi, Monsieur," returned she, "and so I shall; for, I promise you,
I think the English a parcel of brutes; and I'll go back to France
as fast as I can, for I would not live among none of you."
"Who wants you?" cried the Captain: "do you suppose, Madam French,
we have not enough of other nations to pick our pockets already? I'll
warrant you, there's no need for you for to put in your oar."
"Pick your pockets, Sir! I wish nobody wanted to pick your pockets no
more than I do; and I'll promise you you'd be safe enough. But there's
no nation under the sun can beat the English for ill-politeness:
for my part, I hate the very sight of them; and so I shall only
just visit a person of quality or two of my particular acquaintance,
and then I shall go back again to France."
"Ay, do," cried he; "and then go to the devil together, for that's
the fittest voyage for the French and the quality."
"We'll take care, however," cried the stranger with great vehemence,
"not to admit none of your vulgar unmannered English among us."
"O never fear," returned he, coolly, "we shan't dispute the point
with you; you and the quality may have the devil all to yourselves."
Desirous of changing the subject of a conversation which now became
very alarming, Miss Mirvan called out, "Lord, how slow the man drives!"
"Never mind, Moll," said her father, "I'll warrant you he'll drive
fast enough to-morrow, when you are going to Howard Grove."
"To Howard Grove!" exclaimed the stranger, "why, mon Dieu, do you
know Lady Howard?"
"Why, what if we do?" answered he; "that's nothing to you; she's none
of your quality, I'll promise you."
"Who told you that?" cried she; "you don't know nothing about the
matter! besides, you're the ill-bredest person ever I see: and as
to your knowing Lady Howard, I don't believe no such a thing; unless,
indeed, you are her steward."
The Captain, swearing terribly, said, with great fury, "You would
much sooner be taken for her wash-woman."
"Her wash-woman, indeed?-Ha, ha, ha, why you han't no eyes; did you
ever see a wash-woman in such a gown as this?-Besides, I'm no such
mean person, for I'm as good as Lady Howard, and as rich too; and
besides, I'm now come to England to visit her."
"You may spare yourself that there trouble," said the Captain,
"she has paupers enough about her already."
"Paupers, Mister!-no more a pauper than yourself, nor so much
neither;-but you are a low, dirty fellow, and I shan't stoop to take
no more notice of you."
"Dirty fellow!" exclaimed the Captain, seizing both her wrists, "hark
you, Mrs. Frog, you'd best hold your tongue; for I must make bold to
tell you, if you don't, that I shall make no ceremony of tripping you
out of the window, and there you may lie in the mud till some of your
Monseers come to help you out of it."
Their increasing passion quite terrified us; and Mrs. Mirvan was
beginning to remonstrate with the Captain, when we were all silenced
by what follows.
"Let me go, villain that you are, let me go, or I'll promise you I'll
get you put to prison for this usage. I'm no common person, I assure
you; and, ma foi, I'll go to Justice Fielding about you; for I'm a
person of fashion, and I'll make you know it, or my name a'n't Duval."
I heard no more: amazed, frightened, and unspeakably shocked, an
involuntary exclamation of Gracious Heaven! escaped me, and, more
dead than alive, I sunk into Mrs. Mirvan's arms. But let me draw a
veil over a scene too cruel for a heart so compassionately tender as
your's; it is sufficient that you know this supposed foreigner proved
to be Madame Duval,-the grandmother of your Evelina!
O, Sir, to discover so near a relation in a woman, who had thus
introduced herself!-what would become of me, were it not for you,
my protector, my friend, and my refuge?
My extreme concern, and Mrs. Mirvan's surprise, immediately betrayed
me. But, I will not shock you with the manner of her acknowledging
me, or the bitterness, the grossness -I cannot otherwise express
myself,-with which she spoke of those unhappy past transactions
you have so pathetically related to me. All the misery of a much
injured parent, dear, though never seen, regretted, though never
known, crowded so forcibly upon my memory, that they rendered this
interview-one only excepted-the most afflicting I can ever know.
When we stopt at her lodgings, she desired me to accompany her into
the house, and said she could easily procure a room for me to sleep
in. Alarmed and trembling, I turned to Mrs. Mirvan. "My daughter,
Madam," said that sweet woman, "cannot so abruptly part with her young
friend; you must allow a little time to wean them from each other."
"Pardon me, Ma'am," answered Madame Duval, (who, from the time of her
being known, somewhat softened her manners) "Miss can't possibly be
so nearly connected to this child as I am."
"No matter for that," cried the Captain, (who espoused my cause to
satisfy his own pique, tho' an awkward apology had passed between them)
"she was sent to us; and so, dy'e see, we don't choose for to part
with her."
I promised to wait upon her at what time she pleased the next day;
and, after a short debate, she desired me to breakfast with her,
and we proceeded to Queen Ann Street.
What an unfortunate adventure! I could not close my eyes the whole
night. A thousand times I wished I had never left Berry Hill: however,
my return thither shall be accelerated to the utmost of my power;
and, once more in that abode of tranquil happiness, I will suffer no
temptation to allure me elsewhere.
Mrs. Mirvan was so kind as to accompany me to Madame Duval's house
this morning. The Captain, too, offered his service; which I declined,
from a fear she should suppose I meant to insult her.
She frowned most terribly upon Mrs. Mirvan; but she received me with
as much tenderness as I believe she is capable of feeling. Indeed,
our meeting seems really to have affected her; for when, overcome by
the variety of emotions which the sight of her occasioned, I almost
fainted in her arms, she burst into tears, and said, "let me not lose
my poor daughter a second time!" This unexpected humanity softened
me extremely; but she very soon excited my warmest indignation, by
the ungrateful mention she made of the best of men, my dear and most
generous benefactor. However, grief and anger mutually gave way to
terror, upon her avowing the intention of her visiting England was
to make me return with her to France. This, she said, was a plan she
had formed from the instant she had heard of my birth; which, she
protested, did not reach her ears till I must have been twelve years
of age; but Monsieur Duval, who she declared was the worst husband
in the world, would not permit her to do any thing she wished: he
had been dead but three months; which had been employed in arranging
certain affairs, that were no sooner settled, than she set off for
England. She was already out of mourning, for she said nobody here
could tell how long she had been a widow.
She must have been married very early in life: what her age is I do
not know; but she really looks to be less than fifty. She dresses
very gaily, paints very high, and the traces of former beauty are
still very visible in her face.
I know not when, or how, this visit would have ended, had not the
Captain called for Mrs. Mirvan, and absolutely insisted upon my
attending her. He is become, very suddenly, so warmly my friend, that
I quite dread his officiousness. Mrs. Mirvan, however, whose principal
study seems to be healing those wounds which her husband inflicts,
appeased Madame Duval's wrath, by a very polite invitation to drink
tea and spend the evening here. Not without great difficulty was
the Captain prevailed upon to defer his journey some time longer;
but what could be done? It would have been indecent for me to have
quitted town the very instant I discovered that Madame Duval was in it;
and to have staid here solely under her protection-Mrs. Mirvan, thank
Heaven, was too kind for such a thought. That she should follow us to
Howard Grove, I almost equally dreaded. It is therefore determined,
that we remain in London for some days, or a week: though the Captain
has declared that the old French hag, as he is pleased to call her,
shall fare never the better for it.
My only hope is to get safe to Berry Hill; where, counselled and
sheltered by you, I shall have nothing more to fear. Adieu, my ever
dear and most honoured Sir! I shall have no happiness till I am again
with you.