I intend to set off next week for the Continent. Should his Lordship have any commands for me in the mean time, I shall be glad to receive them. I say not this by way of defiance, – I should blush to be suspected of so doing through an indirect channel, – but simply that, if you shew him this letter, he may know I dare defend, as well as excuse my conduct.
CLEMENT WILLOUGHBY
What a strange letter! how proud and how piqued does its writer appear! To what alternate meanness and rashness do the passions lead, when reason and self-denial do not oppose them! Sir Clement is conscious he has acted dishonourably, yet the same unbridled vehemence which urged him to gratify a blameable curiosity, will sooner prompt him to risk his life, than confess his misconduct. The rudeness of his manner of writing to me springs from the same cause: the proof he has received of my indifference to him, has stung him to the soul, and he has neither the delicacy nor forbearance to disguise his displeasure.
I determined not to shew this letter to Lord Orville, and thought it most prudent to left Sir Clement know I should not. I therefore wrote the following note.
To Sir Clement Willoughby
Sir,
The letter you have been pleased to address to me, is so little calculated to afford Lord Orville any satisfaction, that you may depend upon my carefully keeping it from his sight. I will bear you no resentment for what is past; but I most earnestly entreat, nay implore, that you will not write again, while in your present frame of mind, by any channel, direct or indirect.
I hope you will have much pleasure in your purposed expedition, and I beg leave to assure you of my good wishes.
Not knowing by what name to sign, I was obliged to send it without any.
The preparations which Sir Clement mentions, go on just as if your consent were arrived: it is in vain that I expostulate; Lord Orville says, should any objections be raised, all shall be given up, but that, as his hopes forbid him to expect any, he must proceed as if already assured of your concurrence.
We have had, this afternoon, a most interesting conversation, in which we have traced our sentiments of each other from our first acquaintance. I have made him confess how ill he thought of me, upon my foolish giddiness at Mrs Stanley’s ball; but he flatters me with assurances, that every succeeding time he saw me, I appeared to something less and less disadvantage.
When I expressed my amazement that he could honour with his choice a girl who seemed so infinitely, in every respect, beneath his alliance, he frankly owned, that he had fully intended making more minute enquiries into my family and connections, and particularly concerning those people he saw me with at Marybone, before he acknowledged his prepossession in my favour: but the suddenness of my intended journey, and the uncertainty of seeing me again, put him quite off his guard, and ‘divesting him of prudence, left him nothing but love’. These were his words; and yet, he has repeatedly assured me, that his partiality has known no bounds from the time of my residing at Clifton.
Mr Macartney has just been with me, on an embassy from my father. He has sent me his kindest love, and assurances of favour, and desired to know if I am happy in the prospect of changing my situation, and if there is any thing I can name which he can do for me. And, at the same time, Mr Macartney delivered to me a draught on my father’s banker for a thousand pounds, which he insisted that I should receive entirely for my own use, and expend in equipping myself properly for the new rank of life to which I seem destined.
I am sure I need not say how much I was penetrated by this goodness; I wrote my thanks, and acknowledged, frankly, that if I could see him restored to tranquillity, my heart would be without a wish.
Letter Twenty-One
Evelina in continuation
Clifton, October 13
The time approaches now, when I hope we shall meet, – yet I cannot sleep, – great joy is as restless as sorrow, – and therefore I will continue my journal.
As I had never had an opportunity of seeing Bath, a party was formed last night for shewing me that celebrated city; and this morning, after breakfast, we set out in three phaetons. Lady Louisa and Mrs Beaumont with Lord Merton; Mr Coverley with Mr Lovel; and Mrs Selwyn and myself with Lord Orville.
We had hardly proceeded half a mile, when a gentleman from a post-chaise, which came galloping after us, called out to the servants, ‘Holla, my Lads, – pray is one Miss Anville in any of them thing-em-bobs?’
I immediately recollected the voice of Captain Mirvan, and Lord Orville stopped the phaeton. He was out of the chaise, and with us in a moment. ‘So, Miss Anville,’ cried he, ‘how do you do? so I hear you’re Miss Belmont now; – pray how does old Madame French do?’
‘Madame Duval,’ said I, ‘is, I believe, very well.’
‘I hope she’s in good case,’ said he, winking significantly, ‘and won’t flinch at seeing service: she has laid by long enough to refit and be made tight. And pray how does poor Monseer Doleful do? is he as lank-jawed as ever?’
‘They are neither of them,’ said I, ‘in Bristol.’
‘No!’ cried he, with a look of disappointment, ‘but surely the old dowager intends coming to the wedding! ’twill be a most excellent opportunity to shew off her best Lyons silk. Besides, I purpose to dance a new-fashioned jig with her. Don’t you know when she’ll come?’
‘I have no reason to expect her at all.’
‘No! – ’Fore George, this here’s the worst news I’d wish to hear! – why I’ve thought of nothing all the way but what trick I should serve her!’
‘You have been very obliging!’ said I, laughing.
‘O, I promise you,’ cried he, ‘our Moll would never have wheedled me into this jaunt, if I’d known she was not here; for, to let you into the secret, I fully intended to have treated the old buck with another frolic.’
‘Did Miss Mirvan, then, persuade you to this journey?’
‘Yes, and we’ve been travelling all night.’
‘We!’ cried I: ‘Is Miss Mirvan, then, with you?’
‘What, Molly? – yes, she’s in that there chaise.’
‘Good God, Sir, why did not you tell me sooner?’ cried I; and immediately, with Lord Orville’s assistance, I jumped out of the phaeton, and ran to the dear girl. Lord Orville opened the chaise-door, and I am sure I need not tell you what unfeigned joy accompanied our meeting.
We both begged we might not be parted during the ride, and Lord Orville was so good as to invite Captain Mirvan into his phaeton.
I think I was hardly ever more rejoiced than at this so seasonable visit from my dear Maria; who had no sooner heard the situation of my affairs, than with the assistance of Lady Howard and her kind mother, she besought her father with such earnestness to consent to the journey, that he had not been able to withstand their united entreaties; though she owned that, had he not expected to have met with Madame Duval, she believes he would not so readily have yielded. They arrived at Mrs Beaumont’s but a few minutes after we were out of sight, and overtook us without much difficulty.
I say nothing of our conversation, because you may so well suppose both the subjects we chose, and our manner of discussing them.
We all stopped at a great hotel, where we were obliged to enquire for a room, as Lady Louisa, fatigued to death, desired to take something before we began our rambles.
As soon as the party was assembled, the Captain, abruptly saluting me, said, ‘So, Miss Belmont, I wish you joy; so I hear you’ve quarrelled with your new name already?’
‘Me! – no, indeed, Sir.’
‘Then please for to tell me the reason you’re in such a hurry to change it.’
‘Miss Belmont!’ cried Mr Lovel, looking around him with the utmost astonishment, ‘I beg pardon, – but, if it is not impertinent, – I must beg leave to say, I always understood that Lady’s name was Anville.’
‘ ’Fore George,’ cried the Captain, ‘it runs in my head, I’ve seen you somewhere before! and now I think on’t, pray a’n’t you the person I saw at th
e play one night, and who did n’t know, all the time, whether it was a tragedy or a comedy, or a concert of fiddlers?’
‘I believe, Sir,’ said Mr Lovel, stammering, ‘I had once, – I think – the pleasure of seeing you last spring.’
‘Ay, and if I live an hundred springs,’ answered he, ‘I shall never forget it; by Jingo, it has served me for a most excellent good joke ever since. Well, howsomever, I’m glad to see you still in the land of the living,’ shaking him roughly by the hand; ‘pray, if a body may be so bold, how much a night may you give at present to keep the undertakers aloof?’
‘Me, Sir!’ said Mr Lovel, very much discomposed; ‘I protest I never thought myself in such imminent danger as to – really, Sir, I don’t understand you.’
‘O, you don’t! – why then I’ll make free for to explain myself. Gentlemen and Ladies, I’ll tell you what; do you know this here gentleman, simple as he sits there, pays five shillings a night to let his friends know he’s alive!’
‘And very cheap too,’ said Mrs Selwyn, ‘if we consider the value of the intelligence.’
Lady Louisa, being now refreshed, we proceeded upon our expedition.
The charming city of Bath answered all my expectations. The Crescent, the prospect from it, and the elegant symmetry of the Circus, delighted me. The Parades, I own, rather disappointed me; one of them is scarce preferable to some of the best paved streets in London; and the other, though it affords a beautiful prospect, a charming view of Prior Park and of the Avon, yet wanted something in itself of more striking elegance than a mere broad pavement, to satisfy the ideas I had formed of it.
At the Pump-room, I was amazed at the public exhibition of the ladies in the bath: it is true, their heads are covered with bonnets, but the very idea of being seen, in such a situation, by whoever pleases to look, is indelicate.
‘’Fore George,’ said the Captain, looking into the bath, ‘this would be a most excellent place for old Madame French to dance a fandango in! By Jingo, I would n’t wish for better sport than to swing her round this here pond!’
‘She would be very much obliged to you,’ said Lord Orville, ‘for so extraordinary a mark of your favour.’
‘Why, to let you know,’ answered the Captain, ‘she hit my fancy mightily: I never took so much to an old tabby before.’
‘Really, now,’ cried Mr Lovel, looking also into the bath, ‘I must confess it is, to me, very incomprehensible why the ladies chuse that frightful unbecoming dress to bathe in! I have often pondered very seriously upon the subject, but could never hit upon the reason.’
‘Well, I declare,’ said Lady Louisa, ‘I should like of all things to set something new a-going; I always hated bathing, because one can get no pretty dress for it; now do, there’s a good creature, try to help me to something.’
‘Who? me! – O dear Ma’am,’ said he, simpering, ‘I can’t pretend to assist a person of your Ladyship’s taste; besides, I have not the least head for fashions. – I really don’t think I ever invented above three in my life! – but I never had the least turn for dress, – never any notion of fancy or elegance.’
‘O fie, Mr Lovel! how can you talk so? – don’t we all know that you lead the ton in the beau monde? I declare, I think you dress better than any body.’
‘O dear Ma’am, you confuse me to the last degree! I dress well! – I protest I don’t think I’m ever fit to be seen! – I’m often shocked to death to think what a figure I go. If your Ladyship will believe me, I was full half an hour this morning thinking what I should put on!’
‘Odds my life,’ cried the Captain, ‘I wish I’d been near you! I warrant I’d have quickened your motions a little! Half an hour thinking what you’d put on? and who the deuce do you think cares the snuff of a candle whether you’ve any thing on or not?’
‘O pray, Captain,’ cried Mrs Selwyn, ‘don’t be angry with the gentleman for thinking, whatever be the cause, for I assure you he makes no common practice of offending in that way.’
‘Really, Ma’am, you’re prodigiously kind!’ said Mr Lovel, angrily.
‘Pray, now,’ said the Captain, ‘did you ever get a ducking in that there place yourself?’
‘A ducking, Sir!’ repeated Mr Lovel, ‘I protest I think that’s rather an odd term! – but if you mean a bathing, it is an honour I have had many times.’
‘And pray, if a body may be so bold, what do you do with that frizle-frize top of your own? Why I’ll lay you what you will, there is fat and grease enough on your crown, to buoy you up, if you were to go in head downwards.’
‘And I don’t know,’ cried Mrs Selwyn, ‘but that might be the easiest way, for I’m sure it would be the lightest.’
‘For the matter of that there,’ said the Captain, ‘you must make him a soldier, before you can tell which is lightest, head or heels. Howsomever, I’d lay ten pounds to a shilling, I could whisk him so dexterously over into the pool, that he should light plump upon his foretop, and turn round like a tetotum.’
‘Done!’ cried Lord Merton; ‘I take your odds!’
‘Will you?’ returned he; ‘why then, ’fore George, I’d do it as soon as say Jack Robinson.’
‘He, he!’ faintly laughed Mr Lovel, as he moved abruptly from the window, ‘’pon honour, this is pleasant enough, but I don’t see what right any body has to lay wagers about one, without one’s consent.’
‘There, Lovel, you are out;’ cried Mr Coverley; ‘any man may lay what wager about you he will; your consent is nothing to the purpose: he may lay that your nose is a sky-blue, if he pleases.’
‘Ay,’ said Mrs Selwyn, ‘or that your mind is more adorned than your person; – or any absurdity whatsoever.’
‘I protest,’ said Mr Lovel, ‘I think it’s a very disagreeable privilege, and I must beg that nobody may take such a liberty with me.’
‘Like enough you may,’ cried the Captain; ‘but what’s that to the purpose? suppose I’ve a mind to lay that you’ve never a tooth in your head? – pray, how will you hinder me?’
‘You’ll allow me, at least, Sir, to take the liberty of asking how you’ll prove it?’
‘How? – why, by knocking them all down your throat.’
‘Knocking them all down my throat, Sir!’ repeated Mr Lovel, with a look of horror, ‘I protest I never heard any thing so shocking in my life; and I must beg leave to observe, that no wager, in my opinion, could justify such a barbarous action.’
Here Lord Orville interfered, and hurried us to our carriages.
We returned in the same order we came. Mrs Beaumont invited all the party to dinner, and has been so obliging as to beg Miss Mirvan may continue at her house during her stay. The Captain will lodge at the Wells.
The first half-hour after our return, was devoted to hearing Mr Lovel’s apologies for dining in his riding-dress.
Mrs Beaumont then, addressing herself to Miss Mirvan and me, enquired how we liked Bath?
‘I hope,’ said Mr Lovel, ‘the Ladies do not call this seeing Bath.’
‘No? – what should ail ’em?’ cried the Captain; ‘do you suppose they put their eyes in their pockets?’
‘No, Sir; but I fancy you will find no person, – that is, no person of any condition, – call going about a few places in a morning seeing Bath.’
‘Mayhap, then,’ said the literal Captain, ‘you think we should see it better by going about at midnight?’
‘No, Sir, no,’ said Mr Lovel, with a supercilious smile, ‘I perceive you don’t understand me, – we should never call it seeing Bath, without going at the right season.’
‘Why, what a plague, then,’ demanded he, ‘can you only see at one season of the year?’
Mr Lovel again smiled; but seemed superior to making any answer.
‘The Bath amusements,’ said Lord Orville, ‘have a sameness in them, which, after a short time, renders them rather insipid: but the greatest objection that can be made to the place, is the encouragement it gives to gamesters.’
&n
bsp; ‘Why I hope, my Lord, you would not think of abolishing gaming,’ cried Lord Merton; ‘’tis the very zest of life! Devil take me if I could live without it!’
‘I am sorry for it,’ said Lord Orville, gravely, and looking at Lady Louisa.
‘Your Lordship is no judge of this subject,’ continued the other; – ‘but if once we could get you to a gaming-table, you’d never be happy away from it.’
‘I hope, my Lord,’ cried Lady Lousia, ‘that nobody here ever occasions your quitting it.’
‘Your Ladyship,’ said Lord Merton, recollecting himself, ‘has power to make me quit any thing.’
‘Except herself,’ said Mr Coverley. ‘Egad, my Lord, I think I’ve helped you out there.’
‘You men of wit, Jack,’ answered his Lordship, ‘are always ready; – for my part, I don’t pretend to any talents that way.’
‘Really, my Lord?’ asked the sarcastic Mrs Selwyn; ‘well, that is wonderful, considering success would be so much in your power.’
‘Pray, Ma’am,’ said Mr Lovel to Lady Louisa, ‘has your Ladyship heard the news?’
‘News! – what news?’
‘Why the report circulating at the Wells concerning a certain person?’
‘O Lord, no; pray tell me what it is!’
‘O no, Ma’am, I beg your La’ship will excuse me; ’tis a profound secret, and I would not have mentioned it, if I had not thought you knew it.’
‘Lord, now, how can you be so monstrous? – I declare, now, you’re a provoking creature! But come, I know you’ll tell me; – won’t you, now?’
‘Your La’ship knows I am but too happy to obey you; but ’pon honour, I can’t speak a word, if you won’t all promise me the most inviolable secrecy.’
‘I wish you’d wait for that from me,’ said the Captain, ‘and I’ll give you my word you’d be dumb for one while. Secrecy, quoth a! – ’Fore George, I wonder you a’n’t ashamed to mention such a word, when you talk of telling it to a woman. Though for the matter of that, I’d as lieve blab it to the whole sex at once, as to go for to tell it to such a thing as you.’
Evelina Page 46