At dinner we had a large and most disagreeable party of Irish ladies,
whom Mrs. Thrale was necessitated to invite from motives of business and
various connections.
I was obliged to be seated between Miss O'Riley and Mr. Crutchley, to
whom you may believe I was not very courteous, especially as I had
some apprehension of Sir Philip. Mr. Crutchley, however, to my great
surprise, was quite as civil as ever, and endeavoured to be as chatty;
but there I begged to be excused, only answering upon the reply, and
that very dryly, for I was indeed horribly provoked with him.
I was much diverted during dinner by this Miss O'Riley, who took it in
her humour to attack Mr. Crutchley repeatedly, though so discouraging a
beau never did I see! Her forwardness, and his excessive and inordinate
coldness, made a contrast that, added to her brogue, which was broad,
kept me in a grin irrepressible.
In the afternoon we had also Mr. Wallace, the attorney general, a most
squat and squab looking man. In the evening, when the Irish ladies, the
Perkinses, Lambarts, and Sir Philip, had gone, Mrs. Thrale walked out
with Mr. Wallace, whom she had some business to talk over with; and
then, when only Miss Owen, Miss T., and I remained, Mr. Crutchley, after
repeatedly addressing me, and gaining pretty dry answers, called out
suddenly,
“Why, Miss Burney! why, what's the matter?”
“Nothing.”
“Why, are you stricken, or smitten, or ill?”
“None of the three.”
“Oh, then, you are setting down all these Irish folks.”
“No, indeed; I don't think them worth the trouble.”
“Oh, but I am sure you are; only I interrupted you.”
I went on no further with the argument, and Miss Thrale proposed our
walking out to meet her mother. We all agreed and Mr. Crutchley would
not be satisfied without walking near me, though I really had no
patience to talk with him, and wished him at Jericho.
“What's the matter?” said he; “have you had a quarrel?”
“_No_.”
“Are you affronted?”