_Windsor, Wednesday, Dec. 14_--Yesterday I returned to my dear Mrs.
Delany, from Thames Ditton, and had the great concern of finding her
very unwell. Mr. Bernard Dewes, one of her nephews, and his little girl,
a sweet child of seven years old, were with her, and, of course, Miss
Port. She had been hurried, though only with pleasure, and her emotion,
first in receiving, and next in entertaining them, had brought on a
little fever.
She revived in the afternoon, and I had the pleasure of reading to her a
play of Shakspeare's, that she had not heard for forty years, and which
I had never read since I was a child,--“The Comedy of Errors;”--and we
found in it all the entertainment belonging to an excellent farce, and
all the objections belonging to an indifferent play, but the spirit with
which she enters into every part of everything she hears, gives a sort
of theatric effect to whatever is read to her; and my spirits rise in
her presence, with the joy of exciting hers.
But I am now obliged, by what follows, to confess a little discussion I
have had with my dear Mrs. Delany, almost all the time I spent with her
at first, and now again upon my return, relative to the royal interview,
so long in expectation.
Immediately upon my arrival, she had imagined, by what had preceded it,
that a visit would instantly ensue here, and I should have a summons to
appear; but the death of the queen's brother, which was known the very
night I came, confined her majesty and all the family for some days to
the Lodge; and the dangerous illness of the Princess Elizabeth next took
place, in occupying all their thoughts, greatly to their credit. My dear
old friend, however, earnest I should have an honour which her grateful
reverence for their majesties makes her regard very highly, had often
wished me to stay in the room when they came to see her, assuring me
that though they were so circumstanced as not to send for a stranger,
she knew they would be much pleased to meet with me. This, however, was
more than I could assent to, without infinite pain, and that she was too
kind to make a point of my enduring.
Yesterday, upon my return, she began again the same reasoning; the
Princess Elizabeth had relapsed, and she knew, during her being worse,
there was no chance the queen would take any active step towards a
meeting. “But she inquires,” continued Mrs. Delany, “so much about you,
and is so earnest that you should be with me, that I am sure she wants
to see and converse with you. You will see her, too, with more ease to
yourself by being already in the room, than from being summoned. I would
not for the world put this request to you, if I were not sure she wishes
it.”
There was no withstanding the word “request” from Mrs. Delany, and
little as I liked the business, I could not but comply. What next was to
be done, was to beg directions for the rencounter.
Now though you, my dear father, have had an audience, and you, my dear
Susan, are likely enough to avoid one, yet I think the etiquettes on
these occasions will be equally new to you both; for one never inquired
into them, and the other has never thought of them. Here, at Windsor,
where more than half the people we see are belonging to the Court,
and where all the rest are trying to be in the same predicament, the
intelligence I have obtained must be looked upon as accurate, and I
shall, therefore give it. In full confidence you will both regard it as
a valuable addition to your present stock of Court knowledge, and read
it with that decent awe the dignity of the topic requires!