THE CIPHER BECOMES A NUMBER.

Mrs. Delany was too much fatigued to return to the Lodge to tea; but

Mrs. Fielding and her three daughters, Lord Courtown, Mr. Fisher, the

general, and the major, made up our set.

Mrs. Schwellenberg was very ill. She declined making tea, and put it

into the hands of the general. I had always kept back from that office,

as well as from presiding at the table, that I might keep the more

quiet, and be permitted to sit silent; which, at first, was a repose

quite necessary to my depressed state of spirits, and which, as they

grew better, I found equally necessary to keep off the foul fiends of

Jealousy and Rivalry in my colleague; who, apparently, never wishes

to hear my voice but when we are tete-a-tete, and then never is in

good-humour when it is at rest. I could not, however, see this feminine

occupation in masculine hands, and not, for shame, propose taking it

upon myself. The general readily relinquished it, and I was fain to come

forth and do the honours.

Lord Courtown sat himself next me, and talked with me the whole time,

in well-bred and pleasant discourse. The Major waited upon me as

assiduously as if he had been as much my equerry as the king's, and all

went smooth, well, and naturally, except that the poor sick lady grew

evidently less and less pleased with the arrangement of things, and

less and less in humour with its arrangers: so obvious, indeed, was the

displeasure that the cipher should become a number, that had my own

mind been easy, I should have felt much vexed to observe what a curb was

placed over me: for hitherto, except when she had been engaged herself,

and only to Major Price and Mr. Fisher, that cipher had “word spoke

never one.” 'Tis wonderful, my dearest Susan, what wretched tempers are

to be met with--wretched in and to themselves--wretched to and for all

that surround them. However, while only to be stupid and silent will do,

we shall not be at variance. Were I happier, perhaps I might comply with

more difficulty; so be not sorry, my Susan, nor you, my sweet Fredy, if,

bye-and-bye, you should hear me complain. It will be a very good sign.

The Diary and Letters of Madame D'Arblay — Volume 1 · 第 233 / 284 题