“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!”[79]
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.”[80]
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,[81] who,
as he eats no suppers, made way for Mr. Gwatkin,[82] 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 next Mrs. Cholmondeley; but she frequently, and
very provokingly, addressed herself to me; once she called out aloud,
“Pray, Miss Burney, is there anything new coming out?” And another time,
“Well, I wish people who can entertain me would entertain me!”
These sort of pointed speeches are almost worse than direct attacks, for
there is no knowing how to look, or what to say, especially where the
eyes of a whole company mark the object for Whom they are meant. To
the last of these speeches I made no sort of answer but Sir Joshua very
good-naturedly turned it from me, by saying,
“Well, let everyone do what they can in their different ways; do you
begin yourself.”
“Oh, I can't!” cried she; “I have tried, but I can't.”
“Oh, so you think, then,” answered he, “that all the world is made only
to entertain you?”
A very lively dialogue ensued. But I grow tired of writing. One thing,
however, I must mention, which, at the time, frightened me wofully.
“Pray, Sir Joshua,” asked Lord Palmerston, “what is this 'Warley' that is
just come out?”
Was not this a cruel question? I felt in such a twitter!
“Why, I don't know,” answered he; “but the reviewers, my lord, speak
very well of it.”
Mrs. C.-Who wrote it?
Sir Joshua.-Mr. Huddisford.
Mrs. C.-O! I don't like it at all, then! Huddisford what a name! Miss
Burney, pray can you conceive anything of such a name as Huddisford?
I could not speak a word, and I dare say I looked no-how. But was it not
an unlucky reference to me? Sir Joshua attempted a kind of vindication
of him; but Lord Palmerston said, drily,
“I think, Sir Joshua, it is dedicated to you?”
“Yes, my lord,” answered he.
“Oh, your servant! Is it so?” cried Mrs. Cholmondeley; “then you need
say no more!”
Sir Joshua laughed, and the subject, to my great relief, was dropped.
When we broke up to depart, which was not till near two in the morning,
Mrs. Cholmondeley went up to my mother, and begged her permission to
visit in St. Martin's Street. Then, as she left the room, she said to
me, with a droll sort of threatening look,
“You have not got rid of me yet, I have been forcing myself into your
house.”
I must own I was not at all displeased at this, as I had very much and
very reasonably feared that she would have been by then as sick of me
from disappointment, as she was before eager for me from curiosity.
When we came away, Offy Palmer, laughing, said to me,
“I think this will be a breaking-in to you!”
“Ah,” cried I, “if I had known of your party!”
“You would have been sick in bed, I suppose?”
I would not answer “No,” yet I was glad it was over. And so concludeth
this memorable evening.