Evelina

by Frances Burney

  Had I been at liberty, I should have instantly run away from them, when I made the shocking discovery; but, as they held me fast, that was utterly impossible: and such was my dread of their resentment or abuse, that I did not dare make any open attempt to escape.

  They asked me a thousand questions, accompanied by as many hallows, of who I was, what I was, and whence I came. My answers were very incoherent, – but what, good Heaven, were my emotions, when, a few moments afterwards, I perceived advancing our way, – Lord Orville!

  Never shall I forget what I felt at that instant: had I, indeed, been sunk to the guilty state, which such companions might lead him to suspect, I could scarce have had feelings more cruelly depressing.

  However, to my infinite joy, he passed us without distinguishing me; though I saw that, in a careless manner, his eyes surveyed the party.

  As soon as he was gone, one of these unhappy women said, ‘Do you know that young fellow?’

  Not thinking it possible she should mean Lord Orville by such a term, I readily answered, ‘No, Madam.’

  ‘Why then,’ answered she, ‘you have a monstrous good stare, for a little country Miss.’

  I now found I had mistaken her, but was glad to avoid an explanation.

  A few minutes after, what was my delight, to hear the voice of Mr Brown, who called out, ‘Lord, i’n’t that Miss what’s her name?’

  ‘Thank God,’ cried I, suddenly springing from them both, ‘thank God, I have found my party.’

  Mr Brown was, however, alone, and, without knowing what I did, I took hold of his arm.

  ‘Lord, Miss,’ cried he, ‘we’ve had such a hunt you can’t think! some of them thought you was gone home; but I says, says I, I don’t think, says I, that she’s like to go home all alone, says I.’

  ‘So that gentleman belongs to you, Miss, does he?’ said one of the women.

  ‘Yes, Madam,’ answered I, ‘and I now thank you for your civility; but, as I am safe, will not give you any further trouble.’

  I courtsied slightly, and would have walked away; but, most unfortunately, Madame Duval and the two Miss Branghtons just then joined us.

  They all began to make a thousand enquiries, to which I briefly answered, that I had been obliged to these two ladies for walking with me, and would tell them more another time: for, though I felt great comparative courage, I was yet too much intimidated by their presence, to dare be explicit.

  Nevertheless, I ventured, once more, to wish them good night, and proposed seeking Mr Branghton. These unhappy women listened to all that was said with a kind of callous curiosity, and seemed determined not to take any hint. But my vexation was terribly augmented, when, after having whispered something to each other, they very cavalierly declared, that they intended joining our party! and then, one of them very boldly took hold of my arm, while the other, going round, seized that of Mr Brown; and thus, almost forcibly, we were moved on between them, and followed by Madame Duval and the Miss Branghtons.

  It would be very difficult to say which was greatest, my fright, or Mr Brown’s consternation; who ventured not to make the least resistance, though his uneasiness made him tremble almost as much as myself. I would instantly have withdrawn my arm; but it was held so tight, I could not move it; and poor Mr Brown was circumstanced in the same manner on the other side; for I heard him say, ‘Lord, Ma’am, there’s no need to squeeze one’s arm so!’

  And this was our situation, – for we had not taken three steps, when, – O Sir, – we again met Lord Orville! – but not again did he pass quietly by us, – unhappily I caught his eye; – both mine, immediately, were bent to the ground; but he approached me, and we all stopped.

  I then looked up. He bowed. Good God, with what expressive eyes did he regard me! Never were surprise and concern so strongly marked, – yes, my dear Sir, he looked greatly concerned; and that, the remembrance of that, is the only consolation I feel, for an evening the most painful of my life.

  What he first said I know not; for, indeed, I seemed to have neither ears nor understanding; but I recollect that I only courtsied in silence. He paused for an instant, as if – I believe so, – as if unwilling to pass on; and then, finding the whole party detained, he again bowed, and took leave.

  Indeed, my dear Sir, I thought I should have fainted, so great was my emotion from shame, vexation, and a thousand other feelings, for which I have no expressions. I absolutely tore myself from the woman’s arm, and then, disengaging myself from that of Mr Brown, I went to Madame Duval, and besought that she would not suffer me to be again parted from her.

  I fancy – that Lord Orville saw what passed; for scarcely was I at liberty, ere he returned. Methought, my dear Sir, the pleasure, the surprise of that moment, recompensed me for all the chagrin I had before felt: for do you not think, that this return manifests, from a character so quiet, so reserved as Lord Orville’s, something like solicitude in my concerns? – such, at least, was the interpretation I involuntarily made upon again seeing him.

  With a politeness to which I have been some time very little used, he apologized for returning, and then enquired after the health of Mrs Mirvan, and the rest of the Howard Grove family. The flattering conjecture which I have just acknowledged, had so wonderfully restored my spirits, that I believe I never answered him so readily, and with so little constraint. Very short, however, was the duration of this conversation: for we were soon most disagreeably interrupted.

  The Miss Branghtons, though they saw almost immediately the characters of the women to whom I had so unfortunately applied, were, nevertheless, so weak and foolish, as merely to titter at their behaviour. As to Madame Duval, she was for some time so strangely imposed upon, that she thought they were two real fine ladies. Indeed it is wonderful to see how easily and how frequently she is deceived: our disturbance, however, arose from young Brown, who was now between the two women, by whom his arms were absolutely pinioned to his sides: for a few minutes, his complaints had been only murmured; but he now called out aloud, ‘Goodness, Ladies, you hurt me like any thing! why I can’t walk at all, if you keep pinching my arms so!’

  This speech raised a loud laugh in the women, and redoubled the tittering of the Miss Branghtons. For my own part, I was most cruelly confused; while the countenance of Lord Orville manifested a sort of indignant astonishment; and, from that moment, he spoke to me no more, till he took leave.

  Madame Duval, who now began to suspect her company, proposed our taking the first box we saw empty, bespeaking a supper, and waiting till Mr Branghton should find us.

  Miss Polly mentioned one she had remarked, to which we all turned; Madame Duval instantly seated herself; and the two bold women, forcing the frightened Mr Brown to go between them, followed her example.

  Lord Orville, with an air of gravity that wounded my very soul, then wished me good night. I said not a word; but my face, if it had any connection with my heart, must have looked melancholy indeed: and so, I have some reason to believe, it did; for he added, with much more softness, though not less dignity, ‘Will Miss Anville allow me to ask her address, and to pay my respects to her before I leave town?’

  O how I changed colour at this unexpected request! – yet what was the mortification I suffered, in answering, ‘My Lord, I am – in Holborn!’

  He then bowed and left us.

  What, what can he think of this adventure! how strangely, how cruelly have all appearances turned against me! Had I been blessed with any presence of mind; I should instantly have explained to him the accident which occasioned my being in such terrible company; – but I have none!

  As to the rest of the evening, I cannot relate the particulars of what passed; for, to you, I only write of what I think, and I can think of nothing but this unfortunate, this disgraceful meeting. These two wretched women continued to torment us all, but especially poor Mr Brown, who seemed to afford them uncommon diversion, till we were discovered by Mr Branghton, who very soon found means to release us from their persecutions,
by frightening them away. We stayed but a short time after they left us, which was all employed in explanations.

  Whatever may be the construction which Lord Orville may put upon this affair, to me it cannot fail of being unfavourable; to be seen – gracious Heaven! – to be seen in company with two women of such character! – How vainly, how proudly have I wished to avoid meeting him when only with the Branghtons and Madame Duval, – but now, how joyful should I be had he seen me to no greater disadvantage! – Holborn, too! what a direction! – he who had always – but I will not torment you, my dearest Sir, with any more of my mortifying conjectures and apprehensions: perhaps he may call, – and then I shall have an opportunity of explaining to him all the most shocking part of the adventure. And yet, as I did not tell him at whose house I lived, he may not be able to discover me; I merely said in Holborn, and he, who I suppose saw my embarrassment, forbore to ask any other direction.

  Well, I must take my chance!

  Yet let me, in justice to Lord Orville, and in justice to the high opinion I have always entertained of his honour and delicacy, – let me observe the difference of his behaviour, when nearly in the same situation to that of Sir Clement Willoughby. He had at least equal cause to depreciate me in his opinion, and to mortify and sink me in my own: but far different was his conduct; – perplexed, indeed, he looked, and much surprised, – but it was benevolently, not with insolence. I am even inclined to think, that he could not see a young creature whom he had so lately known in a higher sphere, appear so suddenly, so strangely, so disgracefully altered in her situation, without some pity and concern. But, whatever might be his doubts and suspicions, far from suffering them to influence his behaviour, he spoke, he looked, with the same politeness and attention with which he had always honoured me when countenanced by Mrs Mirvan.

  Once again, let me drop this subject.

  In every mortification, every disturbance, how grateful to my heart, how sweet to my recollection, is the certainty of your never-failing tenderness, sympathy, and protection! Oh Sir, could I, upon this subject, could I write as I feel, – how animated would be the language of

  Your devoted

  EVELINA!

  Letter Twenty-Two

  Evelina to the Rev. Mr Villars

  Holborn, July 1

  Listless, uneasy, and without either spirit or courage to employ myself, from the time I had finished my last letter, I indolently seated myself at the window, where, while I waited Madame Duval’s summons to breakfast, I perceived, among the carriages which passed by, a coronet coach, and, in a few minutes, from the window of it, Lord Orville! I instantly retreated, but not, I believe, unseen; for the coach immediately drove up to our door.

  Indeed, my dear Sir, I must own I was greatly agitated; the idea of receiving Lord Orville by myself, – the knowledge that his visit was entirely to me, – the wish of explaining the unfortunate adventure of yesterday, – and the mortification of my present circumstances, – all these thoughts, occurring to me nearly at the same time, occasioned me more anxiety, confusion, and perplexity, than I can possibly express.

  I believe he meant to send up his name; but the maid, unused to such a ceremony, forgot it by the way, and only told me, that a great Lord was below, and desired to see me: and, the next moment, he appeared himself.

  If formerly, when in the circle of high life, and accustomed to its manners, I so much admired and distinguished the grace, the elegance of Lord Orville, think, Sir, how they must strike me now, – now, when, far removed from that splendid circle, I live with those to whom even civility is unknown, and decorum a stranger!

  I am sure I received him very awkwardly; depressed by a situation so disagreeable, could I do otherwise? When his first enquiries were made, ‘I think myself very fortunate,’ he said, ‘in meeting with Miss Anville at home, and still more so, in finding her disengaged.’

  I only courtsied. He then talked of Mrs Mirvan; asked how long I had been in town, and other such general questions, which, happily, gave me time to recover from my embarrassment. After which, he said, ‘If Miss Anville will allow me the honour of sitting by her a few minutes’ (for we were both standing) ‘I will venture to tell her the motive which, next to enquiring after her health, has prompted me to wait on her thus early.’

  We were then both seated, and, after a short pause, he said, ‘How to apologize for so great a liberty as I am upon the point of taking, I know not; – shall I, therefore, rely wholly upon your goodness, and not apologize at all?’

  I only bowed.

  ‘I should be extremely sorry to appear impertinent, – yet hardly know how to avoid it.’

  ‘Impertinent! O my Lord,’ cried I, eagerly, ‘that, I am sure, is impossible!’

  ‘You are very good,’ answered he, ‘and encourage me to be ingenuous – ’

  Again he stopped: but my expectation was too great for speech: at last, without looking at me, in a low voice and hesitating manner, he said, ‘Were those ladies with whom I saw you last night, ever in your company before?’

  ‘No, my Lord,’ cried I, rising, and colouring violently, ‘nor will they ever be again.’

  He rose too, and, with an air of the most condescending concern, said, ‘Pardon, Madam, the abruptness of a question which I knew not how to introduce as I ought, and for which I have no excuse to offer, but my respect for Mrs Mirvan, joined to the sincerest wishes for your happiness: yet I fear I have gone too far!’

  ‘I am very sensible of the honour of your Lordship’s attention,’ said I, ‘but——.’

  ‘Permit me to assure you,’ cried he, finding I hesitated, ‘that officiousness is not my characteristic, and that I would by no means have risked your displeasure, had I not been fully satisfied you were too generous to be offended, without a real cause of offence.’

  ‘Offended!’ cried I, ‘no, my Lord, I am only grieved, – grieved, indeed! to find myself in a situation so unfortunate, as to be obliged to make explanations which cannot but mortify and shock me.’

  ‘It is I alone,’ cried he, with some eagerness, ‘who am shocked, as it is I who deserve to be mortified; I seek no explanation, for I have no doubt; but, in mistaking me, Miss Anville injures herself: allow me, therefore, frankly and openly to tell you the intention of my visit.’

  I bowed, and we both returned to our seats.

  ‘I will own myself to have been greatly surprised,’ continued he, ‘when I met you yesterday evening, in company with two persons who I was sensible merited not the honour of your notice; nor was it easy for me to conjecture the cause of your being so situated; yet, believe me, my incertitude did not for a moment do you injury; I was satisfied that their characters must be unknown to you, and I thought with concern of the shock you would sustain, when you discovered their unworthiness. I should not, however, upon so short an acquaintance, have usurped the privilege of intimacy, in giving my unasked sentiments upon so delicate a subject, had I not known that credulity is the sister of innocence, and therefore feared you might be deceived. A something, which I could not resist, urged me to the freedom I have taken to caution you; but I shall not easily forgive myself, if I have been so unfortunate as to give you pain.’

  The pride which his first question had excited, now subsided into delight and gratitude, and I instantly related to him, as well as I could, the accident which had occasioned my joining the unhappy women with whom he had met me. He listened with an attention so flattering, seemed so much interested during the recital, and, when I had done, thanked me, in terms so polite, for what he was pleased to call my condescension, that I was almost ashamed either to look at, or hear him.

  Soon after, the maid came to tell me, that Madame Duval desired to have breakfast made in her own room.

  ‘I fear,’ cried Lord Orville, instantly rising, ‘that I have intruded upon your time, – yet who, so situated, could do otherwise?’ Then, taking my hand, ‘Will Miss Anville allow me thus to seal my peace?’ He pressed it to his lips, and took leave.


  Generous, noble Lord Orville! how disinterested his conduct! how delicate his whole behaviour! willing to advise, yet afraid to wound me! – Can I ever, in future, regret the adventure I met with at Marybone, since it has been productive of a visit so flattering? Had my mortifications been still more humiliating, my terrors still more alarming, such a mark of esteem – may I not call it so? – from Lord Orville, would have made me ample amends.

  And indeed, my dear Sir, I require some consolation in my present very disagreeable situation; for, since he went, two incidents have happened, that, had not my spirits been particularly elated, would greatly have disconcerted me.

  During breakfast, Madame Duval, very abruptly, asked if I should like to be married? and added, that Mr Branghton had been proposing a match for me with his son. Surprised, and, I must own, provoked, I assured her that, in thinking of me, Mr Branghton would very vainly lose his time.

  ‘Why,’ cried she, ‘I have had grander views for you, myself, if once I could get you to Paris, and make you be owned; but, if I can’t do that, and you can do no better, why, as you are both my relations, I think to leave my fortune between you, and then, if you marry, you never need want for nothing.’

  I begged her not to pursue the subject, as, I assured her, Mr Branghton was totally disagreeable to me: but she continued her admonitions and reflections, with her usual disregard of whatever I could answer. She charged me, very peremptorily, neither wholly to discourage, nor yet to accept Mr Branghton’s offer, till she saw what could be done for me: the young man, she added, had often intended to speak to me himself, but, not well knowing how to introduce the subject, he had desired her to pave the way for him.

  I scrupled not, warmly and freely, to declare my aversion to this proposal; but it was to no effect; she concluded, just as she had begun, by saying, that I should not have him, if I could do better.

  Nothing, however, shall persuade me to listen to any other person concerning this odious affair.

  My second cause of uneasiness arises, very unexpectedly, from M. Du Bois, who, to my infinite surprise, upon Madame Duval’s quitting the room after dinner, put into my hand a note, and immediately left the house.