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 <A Younc LADY's 
 EBKNTRANCE 
 
 THE WHKRTD 
 
 A NEW EDITION 
 
 IN TWO VOLUMES 
 
 : VOL.I 
 
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 4 L ON D O.N: 
 Printed for W. Lowndes N’77 Fleet Street. 
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To -++- ----- 
 
 Ou Author of my being !—far more dear 
 y & 
 To me than light, than nourifhment, or reft, 
 S 
 Hygeia’s bleffings, Rapture’s burning tear, 
 Or the life-blood that mantles in my breaft ! 
 
 If in my heart the love of Virtue glows, 
 *T was planted there by an unerring rule ; 
 From thy example the pure flame arofe, 
 
 Thy life, my precept—thy good works, my fchool, 
 
 Could my weak pow’rs thy num’rous virtues trace, 
 By filial love each fear fhould be reprefs’d ; 
 The bluth of Incapacity I’d chace, 
 
 And ftand, recorder of thy worth, confefs’d : 
 
 But fince my niggard {tars that gift refufe, 
 Concealment is the only boon J claim; 
 
 Obfcure be ftill the unfuccefsful Mufe,® 
 Who cannot raife, but would not fink, thy fame. 
 
 Oh! of my life at once the fource and joy! 
 If e’er thy eyes thefe feeble lines furvey, 
 
 Let not their folly their intent deftroy ; 
 Accept the tribute-—but forget the lay. 
 
 VOL. I. A 
 
TO THE 
 
 MAD A dd O oR oy 
 
 OF THE 
 
 MON TAL Y'ann?*©@ REEL Cae 
 REVIEWS. 
 
 GENTLEMEN, 
 
 ‘HE liberty which I take in addreffing to 
 you the ‘trifling production of a few 
 idle hours, will doubtle {s move your wonder, 
 and probably your contempt. I will not, how- 
 ever, with the futility of apologies, intrude 
 upon your time, but briefly acknowledge the 
 motives of my temerity ; left, by a premature 
 exercife of that patience w hich I hope will 
 befriend me, I fhould leffen its benevolence, 
 and be acce fii ary to my own condemnation. 
 Without name, without recommendation, 
 and unknown alike to fuccefs and difgrace, to 
 whom can I fo properly apply for patronage, 
 as to thofe who publicly profefs themfelves 
 Infpectors of all literary performances ? 
 The extenfive plan of your critical obfer- 
 vations,—which, not confined to works of 
 utility or ingenuity, is equally open:to thofe 
 
 of 
 
DEDICATION. ifl 
 
 of frivolous amufement,—and, yet worfe than 
 frivolous, dullnef{s;—encourages me to feek 
 for your protection, fince,—perhaps for my 
 fins !—it intitles me to your annotations. To 
 refent, therefore, this offering, however in- 
 fignificant, would ill become the univerfality 
 of your undertaking; though not to defpife 
 it may, alas! be out of your power. 
 
 The language of adulation, and the incenfe 
 of flattery, though the natural inheritance, 
 and con{tant refource, from time immemo- 
 rial, of the Dedicator, to me offer nothing 
 but the wiftful regret that I dare not invoke 
 their aid. Sinifter views would be imputed to 
 all I could fay ; fince, thus fituated to extol 
 your judgment, would feem the effeét of 
 art, and to celebrate your impartiality, be 
 attributed to fufpecting it. 
 
 As Magiftrates of the prefs, and Cenfors 
 for the public,—to which you are bound by 
 the facred ties of integrity to exert the moft 
 {pirited impartiality, and to which your fuf. 
 frages fhould carry the marks of pure, daunt- 
 lefs, irrefragable truth—to appeal for your 
 MERCY, were to folicit your difhonour; 
 and therefore,--though ’tis fweeter than 
 frankincenfe,—more grateful to the fenfes 
 than all the odorous perfumes of Arabia,—- 
 and though 
 
 It droppeth like the gentle rain from heaven 
 
 Upon the place beneath, —— 
 I court it not! to your juftice alone I am in- 
 titled, and by that I muft abide. Your 
 
 engagements 
 A. 2 
 
1V DEDICATION. 
 
 engagements are not to the fupplicating au- 
 thor; but to the candid public, which will 
 not fail to crave 
 
 The penalty and forfeit of your bond. 
 
 No hackneyed writer, inured to abufe, and 
 callous to criticifm, here braves your feverity; 
 —neither does a half-ftarved garretteer, 
 
 Oblig’d by hunger—and requett of friends, — 
 implore your lenity: your examination will 
 be alike unbiaffed by partiality and preju- 
 dice:—no refra€tory murmuring will follow 
 your cenfure, no private intereft be gratified 
 by your praife. 
 
 Let not the anxious folicitude with which 
 I recommend myfelf to your notice, expofe 
 me to your derifion. Remember, Gentle- 
 men, you were all young writers once, and 
 the moft experienced veteran of your corps 
 may, by recolleéting his firft publication, re- 
 novate his firft terrors, and learn to allow for 
 mine. For though Courage is one of the no- 
 bleft virtues of this nether {phere; and though 
 fearcely more requifite in the field of battle, 
 to guard the fighting hero from difgrace, than 
 in the private commerce of the world, to 
 ward off that littlenefs of foul which leads, by 
 fteps imperceptible, to all the bafe train of 
 the inferior paflions, and by which the too 
 timid mind is betrayed into a fervility dero- 
 gatory to the dignity of human nature; yet 
 is it a virtue of no neceflity in a fituation 
 fuch as mine; a fituation which removes, 
 even from cowardice itfelf, the fting of ig- 
 
 nominy ; 
 
DEDICATION. Vv 
 
 nominy ;—for furely that courage may eafily 
 be difpenfed with, which would rather excite 
 difguft than admiration! Indeed, it is the 
 peculiar privilege of an author, to rob terror 
 of contempt, and pufilanimity of reproach. 
 
 Here let me reft—-and {natch myfelf, while I 
 yet am able, from the fafcination of Eco- 
 Tism:—a monfter who has more votaries 
 than ever did homage to the moft popular 
 deity of antiquity ; and whofe fingular qua- 
 lity is, that while he excites a blind and in- 
 voluntary adoration in almoft every indivi- 
 dual, his influence is univerfally difallowed, 
 his power univerfally contemned, and his 
 worfhip, even by his followers, never men- 
 tioned but with abhorrence. 
 
 In addreffing you jointly, I mean but to 
 mark the generous fentiments by which li- 
 beral criticifm, to the utter annihilation of 
 envy, jealoufy, and all felfith views, ought 
 to be diftinguifhed. 
 
 I have the honour to be, 
 GENTLEMEN, 
 
 Your moft obedient 
 Humble Servant, 
 
 t & % HOKE 
 
Pie eck ee 
 
 republic of letters, there is no member of fuch 
 
 ee or rank, or whois fo wh bag dained by his 
 breth ren of the quill, as we humble Noveltft : nor 1s his 
 fate lefs hard in the world at large, Tinie among the 
 bole clafs of writ ers, perhaps not one can be named, of 
 which the votaries are more numerou: s but lefs refpeé iable. 
 
 Yet, while in the annals of tho/ Sew of our bredecef- 
 Sors, to whom this {pecies of eS ing is. indebted for being 
 Saved from contempt, and refc ued fi rom depravity, we 
 can trace fuch names as Rouffeau, Fohnfon*, Mari- 
 vaux, Fielding, Richardfon, and Smallet, no man need 
 blufh at farting from the fame poft, though many, nay, 
 mof? men, may figh at finding themfelves diftanced. 
 
 The following letters are prefented to the Public— 
 for fuch by novel writers, novel readers will be called, 
 —with a very Jingular mixture of timidity and con- 
 FE lence, refulting from the peculiar fituation of the edi- 
 tor ; who, though trembling for their fucce/s from a 
 confcioufne/s of their impe rfeétions, yet fears not being 
 involved in their difgrace, while happily wrapped up 
 in a mantle of impenetrable obfcurity. 
 
 To draw characters from nature, though not from 
 life, and tamark the manners of the times, is the ae 
 ed plan of the following letters. For this purpafe, @ 
 young female, educated in the moft [ecluded retirement, 
 makes, at the age of feventeen, her firft appearance upon 
 the great and bufy flage of life; with a virtuous mind, 
 
 a cul- 
 
 * However fuperior the capacities in which thefe great writers 
 deferve to be confidered, they muft pardon me that, for the dig- 
 nity of my fubjed, I here rank the authors of Raffelas and Eloife 
 as Novelilts, 
 
PREFACE. Vil 
 
 cultivated underfianding, and a feeling heart, her ig- 
 norance of the forms, ane ine xpe rience in the manners 
 of the world, occafion all the little incidents which thefe 
 volumes record, and which farm the natural progreffion 
 of the life of a young woman of obfcure birth, but con= 
 Jpicuous beauty, for the firft “fix months after her En- 
 trance into the world. 
 
 Perhaps, were it poffible to effect the total extirpation 
 of novels, our young ladies in general, and boarding- 
 
 chool damfels in particular, might profit fr om their an- 
 nibilation: but fince the diftemper they have fpread 
 Seems incurable, fince their contagion bids defiance to the 
 
 medicine of advice or reprehe nfm, and fince Ay are 
 Sound to baffle all. the mental art of phyfic, fave what is 
 preferibed b by the flap regimen of Time, and bitter diet 
 of Experience ; ; furely all attempts to contribute to the 
 number of thofe which may be read, if not with advan- 
 tage, at leaft without injury, ought rather to be encou- 
 raged than contemned. 
 
 Let me, therefore, prepare for difappointment thofe 
 who, in the perufal of thefe fheets, entertain the gentle 
 expectation of being tranfported to the fantaftic regions 
 of Romance, where Fiétion ts coloured by all Pi Ss gay 
 tints of luxurious Imagination, where Reafon 1s an out- 
 caft, and where the fublimity of the Marvellous rejeéts 
 ail aid from fo ber Probability. The hercine of thefe me- 
 moirs, young, artle{s, and ine xperienced, is 
 
 No faultlefs Monfter, that the world ne’er faw; 
 
 but the offspring of Nature, and of Nature in her 
 fimpleft attire. 
 
 Ln all the Arts, the value of copies can only be propor- 
 tioned to the fcarcene/s of originals: among fculptors 
 and painters, a fine fiatue, or a beautiful pidture, of 
 Some g great mafter, may defervedly employ the imitative 
 talents of younger and inferior artifis, that their appro- 
 priation to one [pot may not wholly prevent the more 
 general expanfion of their excellence; but, among 
 
 authors, 
 
 3 
 
Vill PREFACE. 
 
 authors, the reverfe is the cafe, fince the nobleft produc= 
 tions of literature are almoft equally attainable with the 
 meaneft. In books, therefore, imitation cannot be fhun- 
 ned too feduloufly ; for the very perfection of a model 
 which is frequently feen, ferves but more forcibly to 
 mark the inferiority of a copy. 
 
 Io avoid what is common, without adopting what is 
 unnatural, muft limit the ambition of the vulgar herd 
 of authors: however zealous, therefore, my venera= 
 tion of the great writers I have mentioned, however I 
 may feel myfelf enlightened by the knowledge of Fohnfon, 
 charmed with the eloquence of Roufjeau, foftened by the 
 pathetic powers of Richardfon, and exhilarated by the 
 wit of Fielding and humour of Smollet ; I yet prefume 
 not to attempt purfuing the fame ground which they have 
 tracked ; whence, though they have cleared the weeds, 
 they have alfo culled the flowers ; and though they have 
 rendered the path plain, they have left it barren. 
 
 The candour of my readers I have not the imper- 
 tinence to doubt, and to their indulgence I am fenfible I 
 have no claims I have, therefore, only to intréat, that 
 my own words may not pronounce my condemnation - 
 and that what I have here ventured to fay in regard to 
 imitation, may be underftood as it is meant, in a gene= 
 ral fenfe, and not bé imputed to an opinion of my own 
 originality, which I have not the vanity, the folly, or 
 the blindnefs, to entertain. 
 
 Whatever may be the fate of thefe letters, the editor 
 is fatisfied they will meet with jufiice; and commits 
 them to the prefs, though hopele/s of fame, yet not re= 
 gardlefs of cenfure. 
 
——— 
 
 Be Wich a ks bate 
 
 LET TER: .S 
 
 Lady Howarn #0 the Rev. Mr. ViILLaRs, 
 
 Howard Grove, Kent, 
 
 Coy any thing, my good Sir, be more pains 
 ful to a friendly mind, than a neceflity of com- 
 municating difagreeable intelligence? Indeed, it 
 is fometimes difficult to determine, whether the 
 relator or the receiver of evil tidings is moft to be 
 pitied. 
 
 I have juft had a letter from Madame Duval ; 
 fhe is totally at a lofs in what manner to behave, 
 fhe feems defirous to repair the wrongs fhe has 
 done, yet wifhes the world to believe her blame- 
 lefs. She would fain caft upon another the odium 
 of thofe misfortunes for which fhe alone is anfwer- 
 able. Her letter is violent, fometimes abufive, and 
 that of you !—you, to whom fhe is under obligations 
 which are greater even than her faults, but to 
 whofe advice fhe wickedly imputes all the fufferings 
 of her much-injured daughter, the late Lady Bel- 
 mont. ‘The chief purport of her writing 1 will 
 acquaint you with; the letter itfelf is not worthy 
 
 our notice. 
 
 She tells me that fhe has, for many years paft, 
 been in continual expeétation of making a journey 
 to England, which prevented her writing for infor- 
 mation concerning this melancholy fubjeét, by 
 
 YOL. I. B giving 
 
EVELINA. 
 
 giving her hopes of making perfonal inquiries ; 
 but family occurrences have {till detained her in 
 France, which country fhe now fees no profpect of 
 quitting. She has, therefore, lately ufed her ut- 
 moft endeavours to obtain a faithful account of 
 whatever related to her s//-advifed daughter ; the 
 refult of which giving her fome reafon to appre- 
 hend, that, upon her death-bed, fhe bequeathed an 
 infant orphan to the world, fhe moft gracioufly fays, 
 that if you, with whom /be underfiands the child is 
 placed, will procure authentic proofs of its relation- 
 fhip to her, you may fend it to Paris, where fhe 
 will properly provide for it. 
 
 This woman is undoubtedly, at-length, felf-con- 
 victed of her moft* unnatural behaviour: it is evi- 
 dent, from her writing, that fhe is {till as vulgar and 
 illiterate as when her firft hufband, Mr. Evelyn, had 
 the weaknefs to marry her ;. nor does fhe at all apo- 
 logize for addrefling herfelf to me, though I was 
 only once in her company. 
 
 Her letter has excited in my daughter Mirvan, a 
 ftrong defire to be informed of the motives which 
 induced Madame Duval to abandon the unfortunate 
 Lady Belmont, at a time when a mother’s protec- 
 tion was peculiarly neceflary for her peace and her 
 reputation. Noth withftanding I was perfonally ac- 
 quainted with all the parties concerned in that af- 
 fair, the fubjec&t always appeared of too delicate a 
 nature to be {poken of with the principals ; I cannot, 
 therefore, fatisfy Mrs. Mirvan otherwife than by 
 applying to you. 
 
 By faying that you may fend the child, Madame 
 Duval aims at conferring, where fhe molt owes obli- 
 gation. I pretend not to give you advice; you, to 
 whofe generous proteétion this helplefs orphan is 
 indebted for every thing, are the beft and only judge 
 of what fhe ought to do; but I am much concerned 
 at the trouble and uneafinefs which this unworthy 
 woman may occafion you, 
 
 My 
 
PVELINA. 3 
 
 My daughter and my grandchild join with me in 
 defiring to be moft kindly remembered to the ami- 
 able girl ; and they bid me remind you, that the an- 
 nual vifit to Howard Grove, which we were for- 
 merly promifed, has been difcontinued for more than 
 four years. Iam, dear Sir, 
 
 With great regard, 
 Your moft obedient friend and fervant, 
 M. Howarp, 
 
 eee 
 LETTER II. 
 Mr, Viurars to Lady Howarp. 
 Berry Hill, Dorfetfhire. 
 
 Your Ladyhhip did but too well forefee the 
 perplexity and uneafinefs of which Madame Du- 
 val’s letter has been productive. However, I ought 
 rather to be thankful that I have fo many years 
 remained unmolefted, than repine at my prefent 
 embarrafiment; fince it proves, at leaft, that this 
 wretched woman is at length awakened to remorfe. 
 
 In regard to my anfwer, I muft_ humbly requett 
 your Ladyfhip to write to this effe&t: «* That I 
 would not, upon any account, intentionally offend 
 Madame Duval; but that I have weighty, nay un- 
 an{werable reafons for detaining her grand-daugh- 
 ter at prefent in England ; the principal of which 
 is, that it was the earneft defire of one to whofe 
 will fhe owes implicit duty. Madame Duval may 
 be affured, that fhe meets with the utmoft attention 
 and tendernefs; that her education, however fhort 
 of my wifhes, almoft exceeds my abilities; and I 
 flatter myfelf, when the time arrives that fhe fthall 
 pay her duty to her grandmother, Madame Duvai 
 will find no reafon to be diflatisfied with what has 
 been done for her.” 
 
 Your Ladyfhip will not, I am fure, be furprifed 
 
 B 2 at 
 
4. EVELINA, 
 
 at this anfwer. Madame Duval is by no means a 
 proper companion or guardian for a young woman: 
 fhe is at once uneducated and unprincipled ; ungen- 
 tle in her temper, and unamiable in her manners, 
 I have long known that fhe has perfuaded herfelf to 
 harbour an averfion for me—Unhappy woman! I 
 can only regard her as an object of pity! 
 
 I dare not hefitate at a requeft from Mrs. Mirvan; 
 yet, in complying with it, I fhall, for her own fake, 
 be as concife as I poflibly can; fince the cruel 
 tranfaGtions which preceded the birth of my ward, 
 can afford no entertainment to a mind fo humane 
 as her’s. 
 
 Your Ladythip may probably have heard, that 
 J had the honour to accompany Mr. Evelyn, the 
 grandfather of my young charge, when upon his 
 travels, in the capacity of a tutor. His unhappy 
 marriage, immediately upon his return to England, 
 with Madame Duval, then a waiting-girl at a ta- 
 vern, contrary to the advice and intreaties of all 
 his friends, among whom I was myfelf the moft 
 urgent, induced him to abandon his native land, 
 and fix his abode in France. Thither he was fol- 
 lowed by fhame and repentance ; feelings which 
 his heart was not framed to fupport : for, notwith- 
 ftanding he had’ been too weak to refift the allure- 
 ments of beauty, which nature, though a niggard 
 to her of every other boon, had with a lavith hand 
 beftowed on his wife ; yet he was a young man of 
 excellent. chara&ter, and, till thus unaccountably 
 infatuated, of unblemifhed condu@. He furvived 
 this ill-judged marriage but two years. Upon his 
 death-bed, with an unf{teady hand, he wrote me the 
 following note : 
 
 «« My friend, forget your refentment, in favour of 
 your humanity ;—a father, trembling for the welfare 
 of his child, bequeathes her to your care.—O 
 Villars! hear! pity! and relieve me!” 
 
 Had my circumftances permitted me, I fhould 
 
 have 
 
EVELINA. 5 
 
 have anfwered thefe words by an immediate jour- 
 ney to Paris ; but I was obliged to a& by the agen- 
 cy of a friend, who was upon the fpot, and prefent 
 at the opening of the will. 
 
 Mr. Evelyn left to mea legacy of a thoufand 
 pounds, and the fole guardianfhip of his daugh- 
 ter’s perfon till her eighteenth year ; conjuring me, 
 in the moft affeéting terms, to take the charge of 
 her education till fhe was able to a& with propriety 
 for herfelf; but, in regard to fortune, he lett her 
 wholly dependant on her mother, to whofe tender- 
 nefs he earneftly recommended her. 
 
 Thus; though he would not, to a woman low- 
 bred and illiberal as Mrs. Evelyn, truftthe conduét 
 and morals of his daughter, he neverthelefs thought 
 proper to fecure to her the refpect and duty 
 which, from her own child, were certainly her due ; 
 but, unhappily, it never occurred to him that the 
 mother, on her part, could fail in affeétion or 
 juttice. 
 
 Mifs Evelyn, Madam, from the fecond to the 
 eighteenth year of her life was brought up un- 
 der my care, and, except when at {chool, under 
 my roof. I need not fpeak to your Ladythip of 
 the virtues of that excellent young creature, She 
 loved me as her father ; nor was Mrs. Villars lefs 
 valued by her; while to me the became fo dear, 
 that her lofs was little lefs afflicting than that which 
 I have fince fuftained of Mrs. Villars herfelf. 
 
 At that period of her life we parted; her mo= 
 ther, then married to Monfieur Duval, -fent for her 
 to Paris. How often have I fince regretted that 
 I did not accompany her thither! Prote@ed and 
 fupported by me, the mifery and difgrace which 
 awaited her might perhaps have been avoided. 
 But, to be brief—Madame Duval, at the inftiga- 
 tion of her hufband, earne(tly, or rather tyranically, 
 endeavoured to effect an union between Mifs Eve- 
 fyn and one of his nephews. And, when fhe 
 
 found 
 
6 EWVELIN Ao 
 
 found her power inadequate to her attempt, én- 
 yaged at her non-compliance, fhe treated her with 
 the grofleft unkindnefs, and threatened her with 
 poverty and ruin. 
 
 Mifs Evelyn, to whom wrath and violence had 
 hitherto been ftrangers, foon grew weary of fuch 
 ufage ; and rafhly, and without a witnefs, confented 
 to a private marriage with Sir John Belmont, 2 
 very profligate young man, who had but too fuc- 
 cefsfully found means to infinuate himfelf into 
 her favour, He promifed to condu& her to Eng- 
 land—he did.—O, Madam, you know the reft !— 
 Difappointed of the fortune he expected, by the 
 inexorable rancour of the Duvals, he infamoufly 
 burnt the certificate of their marriage, and denied 
 
 that they had ever been united | 
 
 She flew to me for protection. With what 
 mixed tranfports of joy and anguifh did I again fee 
 her! By my advice, fhe endeavoured to procure 
 
 proofs of her marriage—but in vain: her credulity 
 had been no match for his art. 
 
 Every body believed her innocent, from the 
 guiltlefs tenor of her unfpotted youth, and from 
 the known libertinifm of her barbarous betrayer. 
 Yet her fufferings were too acute for her tender 
 frame ; andthe fame moment that gave birth to her 
 infant, put an end at once to the forrows and to the 
 life of its mother. 
 
 The rage of Madame Duval at her elopement, 
 abated not while this injured viim of cruelty 
 yet drew breath. She probably intended, in time, 
 to have pardoned her; but time was not allowed. 
 When fhe was informed of her death, I have been 
 told, that the agonies of grief and remorfe, with 
 which fhe was feized, occafioned her a fevere fit 
 vof illnefs. But, from the time of her recovery to 
 the date ofher letter to your Ladyfhip, I had never 
 heard that fhe manifefted any defire to be made 
 acquainted with the circumftances which attended 
 
 the 
 
EVELINA. ” 
 
 the death of Lady Belmont, and the birth of her 
 helplefs child. i 
 
 That child, Madam, fhall never, while life is 
 lent me, know the lofs fhe has fuftained. I have 
 cherifhed, fuccoured, and fupported her, from her 
 earlieft infancy to her fixteenth year ; and fo am- 
 ply has fhe repaid my care and affection, that my 
 fondeft wifh is now circumfcribed by the defire 
 of beftowing her on one who may be fenfible of her 
 worth, and then finking to eternal reft in her arms. 
 
 Thus it has happened, that the education of the 
 father, daughter, and grand-daughter, has devolved 
 on me. What infinite mifery have the two firft 
 caufed me! Should the fate of the dear furvivor 
 be equally adverfe, how wretched will be the end of 
 my cares—the end of my days! 
 
 Even had Madame Duval merited the charge fhe 
 claims, I fear my fortitude would have be@a un- 
 equal to fuch a parting ; but, being fuch as fhe is, 
 not only my affection, but my humanity, recoils 
 at the barbarous idea of deferting the facred truft 
 repofed in me. Indeed, I could but ill fupport 
 her former yearly vifits to the refpectable manfion 
 at Howard Grove : pardon me, dear Madam, and do 
 not think me infenfible of the honour which your 
 Ladyfhip’s condefcenfion confers upon us both ; 
 but fo deep is the impreflion which the misfor- 
 tunes of her mother have made on my heart, that 
 fhe does not, even for a moment, quit"my fight, with- 
 out exciting apprehenfions and terrors which almoft 
 overpower me. Such, Madam, is my tendernefs, and 
 fuch my weaknefs!—But fhe is the only tie T have 
 upon earth, and I truft to your Ladythip’s goodnefs 
 not to judge of my feelings with feverity. 
 
 I beg leave to prefent my humble refpeéts to Mrs, 
 and Mifs Mirvan ; and have the honour to be, 
 
 Madam, 
 Your Ladyfhip’s moft obedient 
 and moft humble fervant, 
 ARTHUR VILLARS, 
 
LETT BR EE 
 
 [Written fome months after the laft.] 
 
 Lady Howarp to the Rev. Mr. Vivvars. 
 
 Howard Grove, March & 
 Dear and Rev. Sir, 
 
 Y ovr laft letter gave me infinite pleafure : 
 after fo long and tedious an illnefs, how grateful to 
 yourfelf and to your friends muft be your returning 
 health! You have the hearty wifhes of every indi- 
 vidual of this place for its continuance and increafe. 
 
 Will you not think I take advantage of your 
 acknowledged recovery, if I once more venture 
 to. mention your pupil and Howard Grove to- 
 gether? Yet you mult remember the patience with 
 which we fubmitted to your defire of not parting 
 with her during the bad {tate of your health, tho’ 
 it was with much reluétance we forbore to folicit 
 her company. My grand-daughter, in particular, 
 has fcarce been able to reprefs her eagernefs to 
 again meet the friend of her infancy; and, for my 
 own part, it is very ftrongly my with to manifeft 
 the regard I had for the unfortunate Lady Belmont, 
 by proving ferviceable to her child; which feems 
 to me the beft refpect that can be paid to her me- 
 mory. Permit me, therefore, to lay before you a 
 plan which Mrs, Mirvan and I have formed, in con- 
 fequence of your reftoration to health. 
 
 { would not frighten you ;—but do you think 
 you could bear to part with your young companion 
 for two or three months? Mrs. Mirvan propofes to 
 {pend the enfuing fpring in London, whither, for 
 the firft time, my grand-child will accompany her 
 Now, my good friend, it is very earneftly their wifh 
 to enlarge and enliven their party by the addition of 
 your amiable ward, who would fhare, equally with 
 
 her 
 
EVELINA. 9 
 
 her own daughter, the care and attention of Mrs. 
 Mirvan. Do not ftart at this propofal ; it is time 
 that fhe fhould fee fomething of the world. When 
 young people are too rigidly fequeftered from it, 
 their lively and romantic imaginations paint ittothem 
 as a paradife of which they have been beguiled ; but 
 when they are fhown it properly; and in due time, 
 they fee it fuch as it really is, equally fhared by pain 
 and pleafure, hope and difappointment. 
 
 You have nothing to apprehend from her meet- 
 ing with Sir John Belmont, as that abandoned man 
 is now abroad, and not expected home this year. 
 
 Well, my good Sir, what fay you to- our fcheme ? 
 I hope it-will meet with your approbation ; but if it 
 fhould not, be aflured I can never object to any de- 
 cifion of one who is fo much refpected and efteemed 
 as Mr. Villars, by 
 
 His moft faithful, humble fervant, 
 M. Howarp. 
 
 EEE 
 LETTER IV. 
 Mr, Vitvars to Lady Howard, 
 Berry Hill, March t2. 
 
 T am grieved, Madam, to appear obftinate, 
 and J blufh to incur the imputation of felfithnefs. 
 In detaining my young charge thus long with my- 
 felf in the country, I confulted not folely my own 
 inclination. Deiltined, in all probability, to pof- 
 fefs a very moderate fortune, I wifhed to contract 
 her yiews to fomething within it. The mind. is 
 but too naturally prone to pleafure, but too eafily 
 yielded to diflipation : it has been my dtudy to guard 
 her-again({t their delufions, by preparing her to ex- 
 pect—and to defpife them. But the time draws 
 on for experience and obfervation to take place of 
 inftruction ; if I have, in fome meafure, rendered 
 
 her 
 
10 EVELINA. 
 
 her capable of ufing one with difcretion, and mae 
 king the other with improvement, I {hall rejoice 
 myfelf with the affurance of having largely contri- 
 buted to her welfare. She is now of an age that 
 happinefs is eager to attend,—let her then enjoy 
 it! I commit her to the protection of your Lady- 
 fhip, and only hope fhe may be found worthy half 
 the goodnefs I am fatisfied fhe will meet with at 
 your hofpitable manfion. 
 
 Thus far, Madam, I cheerfully fubmit to your 
 defire. In confiding my ward to the care of Lady 
 Howard, .I can feel no uneafinefs from her ab- 
 fence, but what will arife from the lofs of her 
 company, fince I {hall be as well convinced of her 
 fafety as if fhe were under my own roof.—But 
 ean your Ladythip be ferious in propofing to intro- 
 duce her to the gaieties of a London life? Permit 
 me to afk, for what end, or what purpofe? A 
 youthful mind is feldom totally free from ambi- 
 tion; to curb that, is the firft {tep to contentment, 
 fince to diminifh expe@ation is to increafe enjoy- 
 ment. I apprehend nothing more than too much 
 raifing her hopes and her views, which the natu- 
 ral vivacity of her difpofition would render but too 
 eafy to effect. The town-acquaintance of Mrs. 
 Mirvan are all in the circle of high life: this art- 
 lefs.young creature, with too much beauty to efcape 
 notice, has too much fenfibility to be indifferent 
 to it; but fhe has too little wealth to be fought 
 with propriety by men of the fafhionable world. 
 
 Confider, Madam, the peculiar cruelty of her 
 fituation. Only child of a wealthy Baronet, whofe 
 perfon fhe has never feen, whofe charaGer fhe has 
 reafon to abhor, and whofe name fhe is forbidden 
 to claim; entitled as fhe is to lawfully inherit his 
 fortune and eftate, is ‘there any probability that 
 he will properly own her? And while he conti- 
 nues to perfevere in difavowing his marriage with 
 
 “7 cal oO fe) 
 
 Mifs Evelyn, fhe thall never, at the expenfe of 
 her 
 
EVELINA. tt 
 
 her mother’s fionour, receive a part of her r'.ht as 
 the donation of his bounty. 
 
 And as to Mr. Evelyn's eftate, I have no doubt 
 but that Madame Duval and her relations will dif 
 pofe of it among themfelves. 
 
 It feems, therefore, as if this de ferted child, 
 though legally heirefs of two large fortunes, mutt 
 owe all her rational expectations to adoption and 
 friendfhip. Yet her income will. be fuch as may. 
 make her happy, if fhe is difpofed to be fo in pri- 
 yate life; though it will by no means allow her to 
 enjoy the luxury of a London fine lady. 
 
 Let Mifs Mirvan, then, Madam, fhine in all the 
 fplendor of high life ; but fuffer my child {till to en- 
 joy the pleafures of humble retirement, with a mind 
 to which greater views are unknown. 
 
 I hope this reafoning will be honoured with 
 your approbation ; and I have yet another motive 
 which has fome weight with me: I would not 
 willingly give offence to any human being ; and 
 furely Madame Duval might accufe me of injuftice, 
 if, while I refufe to let her grand-daughter wait 
 upon her, I confent that fhe fhould join a party of 
 pleafure to London. 
 
 In fending her to Howard Grove, not one of thefe 
 fcruples arife ; and therefore Mrs. Clinton, a molt 
 worthy woman, formerly her nurfe, and now my 
 houfekeeper, {hall attend her thither next week. 
 
 Though I have always called her by the name of 
 Anville, and reported in this neighbourhood that 
 her father, my intimate friend, left her to my 
 guardianthip , yet I have thought it neceflary fhe 
 fhould herfelf be acquainted with the melancholy 
 circumftances attending her birth: for though i 
 am very defirous of guarding her from curiofity and 
 impertinence, by concealing her name, family, and 
 ftory ; yet I would not leave it-in. the power of 
 chance to fhock her gentle nature with a tale of fo 
 much forrow. 
 
 You. 
 
+2 EVELINA, 
 
 You muft not, Madam, expect too much from 
 my pupil: fhe is quite a little ruftic, and knows 
 nothing of the world ; and though her education 
 has been the beft I could beftow in this retired 
 place, from which Dorchefter, the neareft town, is 
 feven miles diftant, yet I thall not be furprifed if 
 you fhould difcover in her a thoufand deficiencies 
 of which I never have dreamt. She mutt be very 
 much altered fince fhe was laft at Howard Grove, 
 —but I will fay nothing ofher; I leave her to your 
 Ladyfhip’s own obfervations, of which I beg a faith- 
 ful relation ; and am, 
 
 Dear Madam, 
 With great refpect, 
 Your obedient 
 and moft humble Servant, 
 ARTHUR VILLARS. 
 
 GETTER Va 
 Mr. Vituars 7o Lady Howarp. 
 
 March 18, 
 Dear Madam, March 4 
 
 Turis letter will be delivered to you by my 
 child,—the child of my adoption,—my affeétion! 
 Unbleft with one natural friend, fhe merits a 
 thoufand. I fend her to you innocent as an angel, 
 and artlefs as purity itfelf: and I fend you with 
 her the heart of your friend, the only hope he has 
 on earth, the fubje& of his tendereft thoughts, 
 and the obje& of his lateft cares. She is one, “Ma- 
 dam, for whom alone I have lately withed to live ; 
 and fhe is one whom té ferve ] would with tranf- 
 port die! Reftore her but to me all innocence as 
 you receive her, and the fondeft hope of my heart 
 will be amply gratified. 
 
 A. VILLARS, 
 
[13] 
 
 LETTER VI. 
 Lady Howarn to the Rev. Mr. Vittars 
 
 Dear and Rev. Sir, Howard Grove, 
 
 Tue folemn manner in which you have 
 fommitted your child to my care, has in fome mea- 
 fure dampt the pleafure which I receive from the 
 truft, as it makes me fear that you fuffer from your 
 compliance, in which cafe I fhall very fincerely blame 
 myfelf for the earneftnefs with which I have requetft- 
 ed this favour: but remember, my good Sir, fhe is 
 within a few days fummons ; and be aflured, I will 
 not detain her a moment longer than you wifh. 
 
 You defire my opinion of her, 
 
 She is a little angel! I cannot wonder that you 
 fought to monopolize her: neither ought you, at 
 finding it impoifible. 
 
 Her face and perfon anfwer my moft refined ideas 
 of complete beauty : and this, though a fubject of 
 praife lefs important to you or to me than any 
 other, is yet fo ftriking,- it is not poflible -to pals 
 it unnoticed. Had I not known from whom fhe 
 received her education, I fhould, at firft fight of fo 
 perfect a face, have been in pain for her underf{tand- 
 ing ; fince it has been long and juftly remarked, that 
 folly has ever fought alliance with beauty. 
 
 She has the fame gentlenefS in her manners, the 
 fame natural graces in her motions, that I formerly 
 fo much admiredin her mother. Her charafter feems 
 truly ingenuous and fimple ; andat the fame time 
 that nature has bleffed her with an excellent under- 
 ftlanding and great quicknefs of parts, fhe hasa 
 certain air of inexperience and innocency that is ex- 
 tremely interefting. 
 
 You have no reafon to regret the retirement in 
 which fhe has lived ;_ fince that politenefs which is 
 acquired by an acquaintance with high-life, is in her 
 
 fo 
 
14 EVELINA. 
 
 fo well fupplied by a natural defire of obliging, join- 
 ed toa Aeporinieae infinitely engaging. 
 
 I obferve, with great fatisfaétion, a growing af- 
 fection ,between this amiable girl and my. grand- 
 daughter, whofe heart is as free from felfifhnefs or 
 conceit, as that of her young friend is from all g guile, 
 ‘J heir regard may be mutually ufeful, fince much is 
 to be expected { rom emulation where nothing is to 
 be feared from envy. I would have them love each 
 other as fifters, and neu ee lly fupply the place of 
 that tender and happy re lationthip to which neither 
 
 ture 
 
 of them have a natural claim. 
 
 Be fatisfied, my good Sir, that your child fhall 
 meet with the fame attention as ourown. Wealk 
 join in mo({t hearty wifhes for your health and hap- 
 pinefs, and in returning our fincere thanks for the 
 favour you have conferred on us. 
 
 I am, dear Sir, 
 Your molt faithful fervant, 
 
 M. Howarp. 
 
 LE: Tt BRON 
 Lady Howarn to the Rev. Mr. ViLuars. 
 Howard Groye, March 26, 
 
 Bz not alarmed, my worthy friend, at my 
 fo {peedily troubling you again ; I feldom ufe the ce- 
 remony of ¥ vaiting for antaitres or writing with any 
 regularity, and I have at prefent iamediate occafion 
 for begging your patience. 
 
 Mrs. Mirvan has juft received a letter froin her 
 long-abfent hufband, containing the welcome news 
 of bis hoping to reach London by the beginning of 
 next week. My daughter and the Captain have been 
 feparated almott feven years, and it would therefore 
 be needlefs to fay what j joy, furprife, and confequent- 
 ly confufion, his at prefent unexpected return has 
 c -ufed at Howard: Grove. Mrs Mirvan, you cannot - 
 doubt, will go inftantly to town to mect him > Neg 
 
 daughter 
 
i 
 
 EVELINA. 1g 
 
 daughter is under a thoufand obligations to attend 
 her ; I grieve that her mother cannot. 
 
 And now, my good Sir, I almoft bluth to pro- 
 ceed ;—but, tell me, may I afk—will you permit— 
 that your child may accompany them? Do not 
 think us unreafonable, but confider the many induce- 
 ments which confpire to make London the happiett 
 place at prefent fhe can be in. The joyful occafion 
 of the journey ;_ the gaiety of the whole party, op- 
 pofed to the dull life fhe mutt lead, if left here with 
 a folitary old woman for her fole companion, while 
 fhe fo well knows the cheerfulnefs and felicity en- 
 joyed by the reft of the family,—are circum{tances 
 that feem to merit your confideration. Mrs, Mirvan 
 defires me to affure you, that une week is all fhe 
 afks, as fhe is certain that the. Captain, who hates 
 London, will be eager to revifit Howard Grove : 
 and Maria is fo very earneft in withing to have the 
 company of her friend, that, if you are inexorable, 
 fhe will be deprived of half the pleafure fhe other- 
 wife hopes to receive. 
 
 However, I will not, my good Sir, deceive you 
 into an opinion that they intend to live in a retired 
 manner, as that cannot be fairly expected. But you 
 have no reafon to be uneafy concerning Madame 
 Duval; fhe has not any correfpondent in England, 
 and obtains no intelligence but by common report, 
 She mutt be a ftranger to the name your child bears ; 
 and, even fhould fhe hear of this excurfion, fo fhort 
 a time as a week or l!efs fpent intown upon fo 
 particular an occafion, though previous to their meet- 
 ing, cannot be con{trued into difrefpe& to herfelf, 
 
 Mrs. Mirvan defires me to affure you, that if you 
 will oblige her, her ¢w2 children fhall equally fhare 
 her time and her attention. She has fent a com- 
 miffion to a friend in town to take a houfe for her ; 
 and while fhe waitsfor an anfwer concerning it, I 
 fhall for one from you to our petition. However, 
 your child is writing herfelf ; and that, I doubt not, 
 will more avail than all we can poilibly urge. 
 
 My 
 
19 EVELINA. 
 My daughter defires her beft compliments to you 
 if, the fays, you will grant her requett, but vot elfe. 
 Adieu, my dear Sir, we all hope every thing from 
 your goodnefs. 
 M. Howarp., 
 2 NR 
 LETTER VIII. 
 Evewina to the Rev. Mr. VILLARS. 
 Howard Grove, March 26. 
 
 Tis houfe feems to be the houfe of joy; 
 every face wears a f{mile, and a laugh is at every 
 body’s fervice. It is quite amufing to walk about 
 and fee the general confufion; a room leading to 
 the garden is fitting up for Captain Mirvan’s ftudy. 
 Lady Howard does not fit a moment in a place; 
 Mifs Mirvan is making caps; every body fo bufy! 
 —fuch flying from room to room !—fo many orders 
 given and retraGted, and given again !—nothing but 
 hurry and perturbation. 
 
 Well but, my dear Sir, I am defired to make a 
 requeft to you. I hope you will not think me an 
 encroacher ; Lady Howard infifts upon my writing! 
 —yct I hardly know how to go on; 4 petition ime 
 plies a want,—and have yqu left me one? No, ins 
 deed. 
 
 I am half afhamed of myfelf for beginning this 
 letter. But thefe dear ladies are fo prefling—I 
 cannot, for my life, refilt wifhing for the plea- 
 fures they offer me,—provided you do not difap- 
 prove them. 
 
 They are to make a very fhort ftay in town. 
 The Captain will meet them in a day or two. Mrs. 
 Mirvan and her {weet daughter both go ;—what a 
 happy party ! Yet Iam not wery eager to accom- 
 pany them: at lea{t I thall be contented to remain 
 where { am, if you defire that I fhould. 
 
 Atfured, my deareft Sir, of your goodnefs, your 
 bounty, and your indulyent kindnels, ought I to 
 
 form 
 
EVELINA. 19 
 
 form a with that has not your fanétion? Decide 
 for me, therefore, without the leaft apprehenfion 
 that I fhall be uneafy or difcontented. - While 1 am 
 yet in fufpenfe, perhaps I may hope s but Tam molt 
 certain, that when you have once determined I fhall 
 not repine, 
 
 They tell me that London is now in full fplendor. 
 Two play-houfes are open,—the Opera-houfe,— 
 Ranelagh,—and the Pantheon.—You fee I have 
 learned all theirnames. However, pray don’t fuppofe 
 that I make any point of going, for I fhall hardly 
 figh to fee them depart without me, though I fhall 
 probably never meet with fuch another opportunity. 
 And, indeed, their domeftic happinefs will be fo 
 
 reat,—it is natural to wifh to partake of it. 
 
 I believe I am bewitched! I made a refolution, 
 when I began, that I would not be urgent but my 
 pen—or rather my thoughts, will not fuffer me to 
 keep it—for I acknowledge, I muft acknowledge, I 
 cannot help wifhing for your permiffion. 
 
 I almoft repent already that I have made this con- 
 feflion; pray forget that you have read it, if this 
 journey is difpleafing to you. But I will not write 
 any longer; for the more I think of this affair, the 
 lefs indifferent to it I find myfelf. 
 
 Adieu, my moft honoured, moft reverenced, moft 
 beloved father! for by what other name can I call 
 you? I have no happinefs or forrow, no hope or 
 fear, but what your kindnefs beftows, or your dif- 
 pleafure may caufe. You will not, I am fure, fend 
 a refufal without reafons unanfwerable, and there- 
 fore I fhall cheerfully acquiefce. Yet I hope—I 
 hope you,will be able to permit me to go!—I am, 
 
 With the utmott affection, 
 gratitude and duty, Your 
 EVELINA 
 
 I cannot to you fign ANVILLE, and what other 
 mame may I| claim? 
 
GETTER IX, 
 Mr Vitvars to EVELINA» 
 Berry Hill, March 28; 
 
 To refift the urgency of intreaty, Is a power 
 which I have not yet acquired: I aim not at an au- 
 thority which deprives you of liberty, yet I would 
 fain guide myfelf by a prudence which fhould fave 
 me the pangs of repentance. Your impatience to fly 
 to aplace which your imagination has painted to you 
 in colours fo attractive, furprifes me not; I have 
 only to hope, that the livelinefs of your fancy may 
 not deceive you: to refufe, would be railing it ftill 
 higher, To fee my Evelina happy, is to fee my- 
 felf without a wilh: go then, my child; and 
 may that Heaven, which alone can dire&, preferve 
 and ftrenghthen you! To that, my love, will { daily 
 offer prayers for your felicity. O may it guard, 
 watch over you, defend you from danger, fave you 
 from diftrefs, and keep vice as diftant from your 
 perfon as from your heart! And to me may it grant, 
 the ultimate blefling of clofing thefe aged eyes in the 
 arms of one fo dear—fo defervedly beloved ! 
 
 ARTHUR VILLARS, 
 
 BS tag O08 SS Rae 
 Evexina to the Rev. Mr. Vituarse 
 
 Queen-Ann-Street, London, Saturday, April 2. 
 
 - Taurs moment arrived. Juft going to Drury- 
 Lane theatre. The celebrated Mr. Garrick per- 
 forms Ranger. I am quite in ecftafy. So is Mifs 
 Mirvan. . How fortunate that he fhould happen to 
 play! We would not let Mrs. Mirvan reft till the 
 
 confented 
 
EVELINA. 19 
 
 confented to go. Her chief objection was to our 
 drefs, for we have had no time to Londonize our- 
 felves ; but we teafed her into compliance, and fo 
 we are to fit in fome obfcure place that fhe may not 
 be feen. Asto me, I fhould bealike unknown in the 
 moft confpicuous or moft private part of the houfe. 
 
 I can write no more now. _ I have hardly time 
 to breathe—only juft this, the houfes and ftreets are 
 not quite fo fuperb as I expected. However, I have 
 feen nothing yet, fo I ought notto judge. 
 
 Well, adieu, my deareft Sir, for the prefent ; I 
 could not forbear writing a few words inftantly on 
 my arrival, though I fuppofe my letter of thanks for 
 your confent is {till on the road. 
 
 Saturday Night. 
 
 O my dear Sir, in what raptures am I returned ! 
 Well may Mr.Garrick be fo celebrated, fo univerfal- 
 ly admired—I had not any idea of fo great a per- 
 former. 
 
 Such eafe! fuch vivacity in his manner! fuch 
 grace in his motions! fuch fire and meaning in his 
 eyes!—I could hardly believe he had ftudied a writ- 
 ten part, for every word feemed to be uttered from 
 the impulfe of the moment. 
 
 His a@tion—at once.fo graceful and fo free!— 
 His voice—fo clear, fo melodious, yet fo wonder- 
 fully various in its tones !—Such animation !—every 
 look peaks ! 
 
 I would have given the world to have had the 
 whole play aéted over again, And when he danced 
 —O how I envied Clarinda! I almoft wifhed to 
 have jumped on the ftage, and joined them. 
 
 I am afraid you will think me mad, fo I won’t 
 fay any more; yet I really believe Mr. Garrick 
 would make you mad too if you could fee him. I 
 intend to afk Mrs. Mirvan to go to the play every 
 night while we ftay in town. She is extremely kind 
 to me; and Maria, her charming daughter, is the 
 fweeteft girl in the world. 
 
256 EVELINA. 
 
 I fhall write to you every evening all that paffes 
 in the day, and that in the fame manner as, if I 
 eould fee, I fhould tell you. 
 
 Stmday. 
 
 This morning we went to Portland chapel; and 
 afterwards we walked in the Mall of St. James’s 
 Park, which by no means anfwered my expecta- 
 tions: itisa long {trait walk of dirty gravel, very 
 uneafy to the feet ; and at each end, inftead of an 
 open profpedt, nothing is to be feen but houfes built 
 of brick. When Mrs. Mirvan pointed out the Pa- 
 Jace to me—I think I was never much more fur- 
 prifed. 
 
 However, the walk was very agreeable to us; 
 every body looked gay, and feemed pleafed ; and the 
 ladies were fo much dreffed, that Mifs Mirvan and I 
 could do nothing but look at them. Mrs. Mirvan 
 met feveral of her friends. No wonder, for I never 
 faw fo many people aflembled together before. I 
 looked about for fome of my acquaintance, but in 
 vain; for I faw not one perfon that I knew, which 
 is very odd, for all the world feemed there. 
 
 Mrs. Mirvan fays we are not to walkin the Park 
 again next Sunday, even if we fhould be in town, 
 becaufe there is better company in Kenfington Gar- 
 dens ; but really, if you had feen how much ever 
 body was dreffed, you would not think that poflible. 
 
 Monday. 
 
 We are to go this evening to a private ball, given 
 by Mrs. Stanley, avery fafhionable lady of Mrs. Mir- 
 van’s acqaintance. 
 
 We have been 4-fbopping, as Mrs. Mirvan calls 
 it, all this morning, to buy filks, caps, gauzes, and 
 fo forth. 
 
 The fthops are really very entertaining 
 
 g, efpecially 
 the mercers: there feem to be fix or feven men be= 
 
 longing to each fhop; and every one took care, by 
 bowing 
 
EVELINA. at 
 
 bowing and fmirking, to be noticed. We were con~ 
 ducted from one to another, and’ carried from room 
 to room with fo.much ceremony, that at firft I was 
 almott afraid to go on. 
 
 I thought I fhould never have chofen a filk: for 
 they produced fo many, I knew not which to fix 
 upon ; and they recommended them all fo ftrongly, 
 that I fancy they thought I only wanted perfuafion 
 to buy every thing they fhowed me. And indeed 
 they took fo much trouble, that I was almoft 
 afhamed I could not. 
 
 At the milliners, the ladies we met were fo much 
 dreffed, that I fhould rather have imagined they 
 were making vifits than purchafes. But what moft 
 diverted me was, that we were more frequently 
 ferved by men than by women; and fuch men! fo 
 finical, fo affe@ted! they feemed to underftand every 
 part of a woman’s drefs better than we do ourfelves ; 
 and they recommended. caps and ribands with an 
 air of fo much importance, that I wifhed to afk 
 them how long they had left off Wearing them. 
 
 The difpatch with which they work in thefe great 
 fhops is amazing, for they have promifed me a com- 
 plete fuit of linen againft the evening, 
 
 I have juft had my hair drefled. You can’t think 
 how oddly. my head feels ; full of powder and black 
 pins, and a great cufhion on the top of it. I believe 
 you would hardly know me, for my face looks quite 
 different to what it did before my hair was drefled. 
 When I fhall be able to make ufe of a comb for 
 myfelf, I cannot tell; for my hair is fo much ene 
 tangled, frizzled they call it, that I fear it will be 
 very difficult. 
 
 I am half afraid of this ball to-night ; for, you 
 know, I have never danced but at {chool : however 
 Mifs Mirvan fays there is nothing in it. Yet [I 
 with it were over. 
 
 Adieu, my dear Sir; pray excufé the wretched 
 Ruff 1 write; perhaps I may improve by being in 
 
 this 
 
22 EVELINA. 
 this town, and then my letters will be lefs unworthy 
 your reading. Mean time, I am 
 Your dutiful and affectionate, 
 though unpolithed, 
 ; EVELINA, 
 
 Poor Mifs Mirvan cannot wear one of the caps 
 fhe made, becaufe they drefs her hair too large for 
 them. 
 
 nial 
 
 LETTERS. 
 
 EveLina in Continuation. 
 
 Queen-Ann-Strect, April 5, Tucfday Morning, 
 I HAVE a vaft deal to fay, and fhall give all 
 shis morning to my pen. As to my plan of writing 
 every evening the adventures of the day, I find it 
 impracticable ; for the diverfions here are fo very 
 late, that if I begin my letters after them, I could not 
 
 go to bed at all. 
 
 We patt a moft extraordinary evening. A private 
 ball this was called, fo I expeéted to have feen about 
 four or five couple ; but Lord! my dear Sir, [ believe 
 1 faw half the world! ‘Two very large rooms were 
 full of company; in one were cards for the elderly 
 ladies, and in the other were the dancers. My 
 mamma Mirvan, for fhe always calls me her child, 
 faid fhe would fit with Maria and me till we were 
 provided with partners, and then join the card- 
 players. 
 
 ‘The gentlemen, as they paffed and repafled, looked 
 as if they thought we were quite at their difpofal, 
 and only waiting for the honour of their commands; 
 and they fauntered about, in a carelefs indolent man- 
 ner, as if with a view to keep us in fufpenfe, I 
 don’t {peak of this in regard to Mifs Mirvan and 
 myfelf only, but to the ladies in general; and I 
 thought it fo provoking, that I determined in my 
 
 own 
 
EVELINA. 28 
 
 own mind that, far from humouring fuch airs, I 
 would rather not dance at all, than withany one 
 who fhould feem to think me ready to accept the 
 firft partner who would condefcend to take me. 
 
 Not long after, a young man, who had for fome 
 time looked at us with a kind of negligent imperti- 
 nence, advanced on tiptoe towards me: he had a fet 
 fmile on his face, and his drefs was fo foppifh, that 
 I really believe he even wifhed to be ftared at ; and 
 yet he was very ugly. 
 
 Bowing almoft to the ground witha fort of fwing, 
 and waving his hand with the greateft conceit, after 
 a fhort end filly paufe, he fiid. “ Madam—may I 
 prefume ?” "and { ftopt, offering to take my hand. 
 I drew it back, but eaaia fcarce forbear laughing. 
 «Allow me, Madam,” continued he, affectedly break- 
 ing off every half moment, ‘the honour and happi- 
 nels if I am not fo unhappy as to addrefs you too 
 late—to have the happinefs and honour i 
 
 Again he would have taken my hand; but, bows 
 ing my head, I begged to. be excufed, ‘and turned 
 to Mifs Mirvan to F conceal my laughter. He then 
 defired to know if I had already engaged myfelf to 
 fome more fortunate man? [I faid No, and that I 
 believed I fhould not dance at all.. He would keep 
 himfelf, he told me, difengaged, in — I fhould 
 relent; and then, uttering fome ridiculous fpeeches 
 of forrow and difappointment, though his face ftill 
 wore the fame invariable {mile, he retreated. 
 
 It fo happened, as we have fince recollected, that 
 during this little dialogueMrs. Mirvan was converfing 
 with the lady of the houfe. And very foon* after, 
 another gentleman, who feemed about fix-and- -twenty 
 years off, gayly but not foppifhly dreifed, and indeed 
 extremly handfome, with an air of mixed politenefs 
 and gallantry, defired to know if I was engaged, or 
 would honour him with my hand. So he was 
 pleafed to fay, though I am fure I know not what 
 honour he could receive from me ; but thefe fort of 
 
 expref- 
 
ah EVELINA. 
 
 expreifions, I find, are ufed as words of courfe, with- 
 our any diftinction of perfons, or {tudy of propriety. 
 
 Well, I bowed, and ] am fure | coloured; for 
 indeed I was frightened at the thoughts of dancing 
 before fo many people, all flranges, and, which was 
 worfe, with a ftranger: however, that was un- 
 avoidable ; for though I looked round the room fe- 
 veral times, 1 could not fee one perfon that I knew. 
 And fo he took my hand, and led me to join an the 
 dance. 
 
 The minuets were over before we arrived, for we 
 were kept late by the milliners making us wait for 
 our things. 
 
 He feemed very defirous of entering into conver- 
 {ation with me; but I was feized with fuch a panic, 
 that I could hardly fpeak a word, and nothing but 
 the fthame of fo foon changing my mind prevented 
 my returning to my feat, and declining to dance at all. 
 
 He feemed to be furprized at my terror, which 1 
 believe was but too apparent: however he afked no 
 queftions, though: I fear he mutt -think it very 
 ftrange ; for I did not choofe to tell him it was 
 owing to my never before dancing but with a 
 f{chool-girl. 
 
 His converfation was fenfible and fpirited; his 
 air and addrefs were open and noble; his manners 
 gentle, attentive, and infinitely engaging ; his perfon 
 is all elegance, and his countenance the mojt ani- 
 mated and expreflive 1 have ever feen. 
 
 In a fhort time we were joined by Mifs Mirvan, 
 who ftood next couple to us. But how I was ftartled 
 when {he whifpered me that my partner was a noble- 
 man! This gave me a new alarm ; how will he be 
 provoked, thought I, when he finds what a fimple 
 ruftic he has honoured with his choice! one whofe 
 ignorance of the world makes her perpetually fear 
 doing fomething wrong! 
 
 That he fhould be fo much my fuperior ever 
 way, quite difconcerted me; and you will fuppold 
 
 =a 
 
EVELINA, 25 
 
 my fpirits were not much raifed, when I heard a 
 lady, in pafling us, fay, ‘* This is the moft diffi- 
 cult dance I ever faw.” 
 
 «©O dear, then,” cried Maria to her partner, 
 «« with your leave, ll fit down till the next.” 
 
 « So will I too, then,” cried I, ‘‘ for I am fure 
 I can hardly ftand.” 
 
 «But you: muft fpeak to your partner firft,” 
 anfwered fhe; for he had turned afide to talk with 
 fome gentlemen. However, I had not fufficient 
 courage to addrefs him ; and fo away we all three 
 tript, and feated ourfelves at another end of the 
 room. 
 
 But, unfortunately for me, Mifs Mirvan foon after 
 fuffered herfelf to be prevailed upon to attempt the 
 dance; and juft as fhe rofe to go, fhe cried, ** My 
 dear, yonder is your partner, Lord Orville, walking 
 about the room in fearch of you.” 
 
 «« Don’t leave me then, dear girl!” cried 1; but 
 fhe was obliged to go. And now I was more un- 
 eafy than ever ; I would have given the world to 
 have feen Mrs. Mirvan, and begged of her to make, 
 my apologies ; for what, thought I, can I poflibly 
 fay to him in excufe for running away? he mult 
 either conclude me a fool, or half mad ; for any one 
 brought up in the great world, and accuflomed to 
 its ways, can have no idea of fuch fort of fears as 
 mine. 
 
 My confufion increafed when I obferved that he 
 was every where feeking me, with apparent per- 
 plexity and furprife ; but when, at laft, I faw him 
 move towards the place where I fat, I was ready to 
 fink with fhame and diftrefs. I found it abfolutely 
 impoflible to keep my feat, becaufe I could not think 
 of a word to fay for myfelf; and fo [ rofe, and 
 walked haftily towards the card-room, refolving to 
 ftay with Mrs. Mirvan the re{t of the evening, and 
 not to dance at all. But before I could find her, 
 Lord Orville faw and approached me. 
 
 104 ee & G He 
 
EVELIN<As« 
 
 He begged to know if I was not well? You may 
 eafily imagine how much I was embarrafled. J 
 made no anfwer; but hung my head like a fool, and 
 looked on my fan. 
 
 He then, with an air the moft refpectfully ferious, 
 afked if he had been fo unhappy as to offend me? 
 
 «« No, indeed!” cried I: and, in hopes of chang- 
 ing the difcourfe, and preventing his further inqui- 
 ries, I defired to know if he had feen the young lady 
 who had been converfing with me? 
 
 No;—but would I honour him with any com- 
 mands to her? 
 
 «« QO, by no means!” 
 
 Was there any other perfon with whom I withed 
 to {peak ? 
 
 I faid no, before I knew I had anfwered at all. 
 
 Should he have the pleafure of bringing me ahy 
 refrefhment? 
 
 I bowed, almoft involuntarily. And away he 
 flew. 
 
 Iwas quite afhamed of being fo troublefome, and 
 fo much adove myfelf as thefe {feeming airs made me 
 appear; but indeed 1. was too much confufed to 
 think or act with any confiftency. 
 
 If he had not been fwift as lightning, I don’t 
 know whether I fhould not have ftolen away again ; 
 but he returned ina moment. When I had drank 
 a glafs of lemonade, he hoped, he faid, that I would 
 again honour him with my hand, as anewdance was 
 juft begun. Thad not the prefence of mind to fay 
 a fingle word, and fo I let him once more lead me 
 to the place I had left. 
 
 Shocked to find how filly, how childith a part I 
 had acted, my former fears of dancing before fuch a 
 company, and with fucha partner, returned more 
 forcibly than ever. I fuppofe he perceived my uneafi- 
 nefs; for he intreated me to fit down again, if dan- 
 cing’ was difagreeable to me. But I was quite fatis- 
 fied with the folly I had already fhewn ; and there- 
 
 fore 
 
EVELINA» 247 
 fore declined his offer, though I was really fcarce 
 able to ftand. 
 
 Under fuch confcious difadvantages, you may 
 eafily imagine , my dear Sir, how ill I ‘acquitted 
 myfelf. But, though I both expe éted and deferved 
 to find him very much mortified and difpleafed at 
 his ill fortune in the choice he had made; yet, to 
 my very great relief, he appeared to be even con- 
 tented, and very much affifted and encouraged me. 
 Thefe people in high life have too much prefence 
 of mind, I believe, to feem difconcerted, or out of 
 humour, however they may feel : for had I been the 
 perfon of the moft cor nfequence ein the room, I could 
 not have met with more attention and refpect. 
 
 When the dance was over, feeing me {till very 
 much flurried, he. led me to a feat, faying that he 
 would not fuffer me to fatigue myfelf from polite- 
 nefs. 
 
 And then, if my capacity, or even if my fpirits 
 had been better, in how animated a converfation 
 might I have been engaged! It was then I faw that 
 the rank of Lord Orville was his leaft recommen- 
 dation, his underftanding and his manners being 
 far more diftinguifhed. His remarks upon the 
 company in general were fo apt, fo juft, folively, 
 T am. almoft “furprifed myfelf that ies did not re- 
 animate me; but indeed I was too well convinced 
 of the ridiculous part I had myfelf. played before fo 
 nice an obferver, to be able to enjoy his pleafantry : 
 fo felf-compaffion gave me feeling for others. Yet 
 I had not the courage to attempt either to defend 
 them, or to rally in my turn; but liftened to him in 
 {ilent embarra{fiment. 
 
 When he found this, he changed the fubje@, and 
 talked of public places, and.public performers; but 
 he foon difcovered that 1 was totally ignorant of 
 them. 
 
 He then, very ingenioufly, turned the difcourfe to 
 the amufements and occupations of the country. 
 
 Be: It 
 
25 EVELINA. 
 
 It now ftruck me, that he was refolved to try 
 whether or not I was capable of talking upon any 
 fubjec&t. This put fo great a conftraint upon my 
 thoughts, are I was unable to go further thana 
 mon ofyllat yle, and not even fo far, when I could 
 poll ibly avoid it. 
 
 We were fitting in this manner, he converfing 
 with all gaiety, I looking down with all foolifhnefs, 
 when that fop who had fir afked me to dance, with 
 a moft ridiculous folemnity ap proached, and after a 
 profound bow or two faid, «J humbly beg pardon, 
 Madam ,—and of you too, my Lord, —for breaking 
 in upon fuch agreeable converfation—which mutt, 
 d edete be much more dele&table—than what I 
 have the honour to offer—but—” 
 
 I interrupted him—lI blufh for my folly,—with 
 laughing ; yet I could not help it ; for, added to the 
 man’s flately foppifhnefs, (and he aétually took 
 fnuff between wg three words) when I looked 
 round at Lord ville, I faw fuch extreme furprife 
 in his face,—the caufe of which appeared fo abfurd, 
 that I could not for my life preferve my gravity. 
 
 3 ne a not laughed before trom the time I had left 
 Mi rvan, and I had much better have cried then; : 
 bord aeble le a@tually ftared at me; the beau, I 
 know not his name, looked quite enraged. <* Re- 
 frain— Madam,” {faid he, with an important air, \sa 
 few moments refrain!—I have but a feneuee to 
 trouble you with.—May I know to what accident 
 I mutt attribute not having the honour of your 
 hand:” 
 
 * Accident, Sir!” repeated I, much aftonifhed. 
 
 «© Yes, accident, Madam te! furely, —I muft 
 take the liberty to obferve—pardon me, Madam,— 
 it onght to be no common one—that fhould tempt 
 a lady—fo younga one too,—to be guilty of ill- 
 manners. 
 
 A confufed idea now for the firft time entered 
 my head, of fomething I had heard of the rules of 
 
 an 
 
/ 
 
 EVELINA. 29 
 
 an affembly ; but I was never at one before,—I 
 have only danced at fchool,—and fo giddy and 
 heeclefs I was, that I had not once confidered the 
 impropriety of refufing one partn ry and afterwards 
 accepting another. I was thunder(truck at the re- 
 colleGien: but, while thefe thoughts were rufhing 
 into my head, Lord Orville, wi ‘h fome Ww Tales 
 faid, ** This Lady, Sir, is incapable of meriting 
 fuch an accufation !” . 
 
 The ature—for I am very angry wath hit 
 made alow bow, and v a grin the mof{t mali 
 I ever faw, ‘* My Lord,” faid he, far be it fi 
 me to accufe the lady, for having the difcernment to 
 diftinguifh and _ prefer—the fuperior attractions of 
 your i ordfhip.” 
 
 Again he piead, and walked off. 
 
 Was ever any thing fo provoking? I was ready 
 to die with fhame. “ ‘What a coxcomb !”’ exclaimed 
 Lord Orville: while I, without knowing what I 
 did, rofe haftily, and moving off, ** I can’t ima- 
 gine,” cried I, ‘* where Mrs. Mirvan has hid her- 
 felf |” 
 
 «¢ Give me leave to fee,” anfwered he. I bowed 
 and = down again, not daring to meet his eyes ; 
 
 ie 
 
 for what mutt he think of me, between my blunder, 
 and the fuppofed preference ? 
 
 He returned in a moment, and told me that Mrs 
 Mirvan was at cards, but would be glad to fee me ; 
 and I went immediately. f? here was but one chait 
 vacant ; fo, tomy ereat relief , Lord Orville prefentl 
 left us. I then told Mrs. Mirvan my difatters 
 and fhe good-natt bredly blamed herfelf for not ha wing 
 better inftru@ted me; but faid, fhe had taken it for 
 granted that I mutt a, fuch .common cuftoms. 
 However, the man may, I think, be fatisfied with 
 his pretty fpeech, and carry his refentment no farther. 
 
 In a fhort time Lord Orville returned. wesseelid 
 ed, with the beft grace I could, to ga down anothe 
 dance, for I had had time to recolle& my lelf ; i 
 
 therefore 
 
 3 
 
erefore refolved to ufe fome exertion, and, if pof- 
 ar lefs a fool than I had hitherto done 3 
 it occurred to me, that,infignificantas I was,com- 
 
 pared to a man of his rank and figure, yet fince he 
 had been fo unfortunate as to make choice of me for 
 a partner, why I fhould not endeavour to make the 
 
 A Ice We was fhort, and..he fpoke 
 very little; { had no opportunity of putting my 
 refolution in pradtice. He was fatistied, ] fup- 
 i slefs efforts to draw me 
 he had been inquiring 
 ain difconcerted me; and the 
 l lto exert, again failed me. 
 ‘ired, afhamed, and mortified, I begged to fit down 
 irned home, whidkcd did fonts after. Lord 
 
 Orv ille dic id me th e honour to hand me to the coach, 
 ry of the honour J had done him! O 
 
 ‘ Gifonable peste 
 
 W ‘ell, my dear Sir, was it not a ftrange evening ? 
 I could not he Ip being thus particular, becaufe, to 
 me, every thin B isfonew. But it is now timeto 
 conclude. I am, with all Jove and duty, 
 
 Your 
 EVELINA, 
 
 LETTER XI. 
 
 EveEeLIna in- Continuation. 
 
 Tuefday, April 5 
 Turre is to be no end of the troubles of 
 laft night. I. have this moment, between perfua- 
 fion and laughter, gathered crn Maria the moft 
 curious dialogue that ever IT heard. You wwl at 
 firft be ftartled at my vanity ; but, my dear Sir, have 
 patience ! 
 
 Tt 
 
EVELINA. ve i 
 
 a 
 
 It muft have paffed while I was fitting with Mrs. 
 Mirvan in the card-room. Maria was taking fome 
 — and faw Lord Orville advancing for 
 
 the fame purpofe himfelf; but he did not know her, 
 though fhe immediately recollected him. Prefently 
 abien, a very gay- -looking m an , {tepping haftily up 
 to him, cried, ‘ Why, my Lx rd, what have you 
 done with your lovely past Ese 
 
 «© Nothing!’ anfwered Lord Orville with a fimile 
 and a fhrug. 
 
 « By Jove,’ ’ cried the man,‘* fhe is the moft beauti- 
 ful creature I ever faw im my life!” 
 
 Lord Orville, as he well might, laughed; but 
 anfwered, ‘* Yes, a pretty mode(t-looking girl.” 
 
 «©O my Lord!” cried the madman, “ fhe is an 
 angel !” 
 
 ‘© A filent one,” returned he, 
 
 «¢ Why ay my Lord, how ftands fhe as to that? 
 She looks all intelligence and expreffion.” 
 
 «« A poor weak girl 1? anfwered Lord Orville, 
 fhaking his head. 
 
 ag By Jove,” cried the other, ‘* I am glad to hear 
 it!” 
 
 At that moment, the fame odious Creature who 
 had been ‘my former tormentor, joined them. Ad- 
 dreffing Lord Orville with great refpect, he faid, ** 1 
 beg pardon, my Lord, tit I was—as I fear might 
 be the cafe—rather too fevere in my cenfure of the 
 Jady who is honoured with your protection—but, 
 my Lord, ill-breeding is apt to provoke a man.” 
 
 «« [l|-breeding !” cried my unknown champion, 
 «<< impoffible! that elegant face can never be fo vile 
 a maik!” 
 
 «© Sir, as to that,” anfwered he, ‘* you mutt 
 allow me to judge; for though I pay all deference 
 to your opinion—in other things,—yet I hope you 
 
 wilh, ; grant—and I appeal to your Lordfhip alfo— 
 
 that lam not totally defpicable as a judge of good 
 or ill manners.” 
 “© ] was 
 
32 EVELINA. 
 ‘« T was fo wholly ignorant,” faid Lord Orville 
 
 gravely, ‘* of the provocation you might have had, 
 that I could not but be furprifed at your fingular re- 
 fentment.” 
 
 «© Tt was far from my intention,” anfwered he, 
 ‘« to offend your Lordfhip ;_ but really for a perfon 
 who is nobody,..to give herfelf fuch airs,—I1 own I 
 could not command my paffions. For, my Lord, 
 though I have ma sent inquiry—TI cannot learn 
 who the is. 
 j hat I can make out,” cried my defender, 
 
 I , parfon’s daughter.” 
 od, ‘pon honour!”’ cried the 
 ive {worn by her manners.” 
 Fr at his own wit, he laughed, 
 and went away, as I fuppofe, to repeat it. 
 
 ‘¢ But what the de s all this?” demanded the 
 other, 
 
 «« Why a very foolifh affair,” anfwered Lord Or- 
 ville ; ‘* your Helen firft refufed this coxcomb, and 
 then—danced with me. This is all I can gather of it.” 
 
 «“O Orville,” returned he, * you are a happy man! 
 —But é//-bred ?—IJ] can never believe it! And fhe 
 looks too fenfible to be ¢gnarant.” 
 
 ‘« Whether ignorant or mifchievous, I will not 
 pretend to determine: but certain it is, fhe attended 
 to all J could fay to her, though I have really fati- 
 gued myfelf with fruitlefs endeavours to entertain 
 her, with the moft immoveable gravity; but no 
 fooner did Lovel begin his complaint, than fhe was 
 feized with a fit of laughing, firft affronting the 
 poor beau, and then enjoying his mortification,” 
 
 ‘¢ Ha! ha! ha! why there is fome genius in that, 
 my Lord, though perhaps rather—ru/tic.” 
 
 Here Maria was called to dance, and fo heard no 
 more. 
 
 Now, tell me, my dear Sir, did you ever knaw 
 any thing more provoking? ‘4 poor weak girl!” 
 “¢ ggnorant or mifchievous !” What mortyfying words ! 
 
 Tam 
 
E-V EvL:1-N Ax 33 
 
 Tam refolved, however, that-I will never again be 
 tempted to go to an affembly. I with | had been in 
 Dorfetfhire. 
 
 Well, after this, you will no* be furprifed that 
 Lord Orville contented himfelf withan inquiry. after 
 our healths this morning, by his fervant, without 
 troubling himfelf to call, as Mifs Mirvan had told 
 me he w vould: but perhaps it may be only.a country 
 cuftom. 
 
 I would not live here for the world. I care not 
 how foon we leave town. London foon grows 
 tirefome. I wifh the Captain would come, Mrs. 
 Mirvan talks of the opera for this evening ; however, 
 I am very indifferent about it. 
 
 Morning. 
 
 Wednelday 
 Well, my dear Sir, I have been pleafed againtt my 
 will, I could almoft fay; for I mult own I went 
 out in very ill humour, which I think. you cannot 
 wonder at: but the mufic and the fipgine were 
 charming ; they { foothed me into a pleafur 
 grateful, ‘the beft fuited to my 2 on nt difpofition in 
 the world. I hope to perit C . Mirvan to go 
 again on Saturdz ay. 1 wath the , opera was every 
 night. It is, of all entertainments, the {wecteit, 
 and moft de lightful. Some of the fongs feemed to 
 melt my very ‘foul. . It was what they call a Jeriaus 
 opera, as the comic firft finger was all. 
 To night we g to Ranelag! If any SF thofe 
 pores gentlemen ) fr out me 
 
 Thurfday 
 Well s may dear Si we went to Ranelavh. Itisa 
 charming place; andthe : brilliancy of the lights, on 
 my firft. entrance, made me almoit. think I was’ in 
 fome inchanted cattle or fairy palace,’ for all lovaed 
 like magic to me. 
 at ae very firft perforr I ad was Lord Orville. I 
 felt fo confufed!—but he did not feeme. After tea, 
 Mrs. Mirvan being tired, M aria and I walked round 
 the 
 
34 EVELINA. 
 
 the room alone. Then again we faw him, ftanding 
 by the orcheftra, We, too, ftopt to hear a finger. 
 He bowed to me; I courtefied, and I am fure I co- 
 floured, We foon walked on, not liking our fitua- 
 tion: however he did not follow us; and when we 
 pafled by the orcheftra again, he was gone. After- 
 wards, in the courfe of the evening, we met him fe- 
 yeral times ; but he was always with fome party, and 
 never {poke to us, though, whenever ‘he chanced to 
 meet my eyes, he condefcended to bow. 
 
 I cannot but be hurt at the opinion he entertains 
 ofine. It is true my own behaviour incurred it— 
 yet he is himfelf the moft agreeable, and, feemingly, 
 thé moft amiable man in the world, and there- 
 fore it'is that I am grieved to be thought ill of by 
 ‘him: for of whofe efteem ought we to be ambitious, 
 ‘if ‘not of thofe who -moft merit our own ?—But it is 
 too late to: reflect .ipon this now, Well, I can’t 
 help it.—-However, I think I have done with af- 
 femblies:!: ae 
 
 .This‘morning was deftined for Seeing fights, auc- 
 tions, curious fhops, and fo forth ;. but my head 
 ached, and FE. .was not in a humour to be amufed, 
 and fo I made them go without me, though very un- 
 willingly. They are all kindnefs, 
 
 And now I am forry I did not accompany them, 
 for I know not what to do with myfelf. I had re- 
 folved not to go to the play to-night; but I believe 
 I fhall. In fhort, I hardly care whether I do or not, 
 
 * * * * * 
 
 I thought I had done wrong! Mrs. Mirvan and 
 Maria have been half the town over, and fo enter- 
 tained !—while I, like a fool, ftaid at home to do 
 nothing. And, at an auion in Pall-mall, who 
 fhould they meet but Lord Orville. He fat next to 
 Mrs. Mirvan, and they talked a great deal togethers 
 but the gave me no account of the converfation, 
 
 J may 
 
EVELINA 35 
 
 T may never have.fuch another opportunity of fee- 
 ing London ; I am quite forry that I was not of the 
 party 5 but I deferve this mortification, for having 
 indulged my ill-humour. 
 
 Thurfday Night. 
 We are juft returned from the play, which was 
 King Lear, and has made me very fad. We did not 
 fee any body we knew. 
 Well, adieu, it is too Jate to write more. 
 
 Friday. 
 
 Captain Mirvan is arrived. I have not fpirits to 
 give an account of his introdution, for he has really 
 {hocked me. Ido not like him. He feems to be 
 furly, vulgar and difagreeable. 
 
 Almoft the fame moment that Maria was prefent- 
 ed tohim, he began fome rude jefts upon the bad 
 fhape of her nofe, and called her a tall ill-formed 
 thing. She bore it with the utmoft good-humour ; 
 but that kind and fweet-tempered woman,Mrs. Mir- 
 van, deferved a better lot. I am amazed fhe ‘would 
 marry him. : ; 
 
 For my own part, I have been fo fhy, that I have 
 hardly fpoken to him, or he to me, I. cannot 
 imagine why the family was fo rejoiced at his‘return. 
 If he had {pent his whole life abroad, I fhould have 
 fuppofed they might rather have been thankful than, 
 forrowful. However, I hope they do not think fo 
 ill of him as I do. At Jeaft, Iam fure they have too, 
 much prudence to make it known. : 
 
 Saturday Night. 
 
 We have been to the opera, and I am {till.more 
 pleafed than I was un Tuefday. I could have thought 
 myfelf in paradife, but for the continual talking of 
 the company around me. We fat in the pit, where 
 every body was dreffed in fo high a ftyle, that if I 
 had been lefs delighted with the performance, my 
 
 eyes: 
 
36 EVELINA. 
 
 eyes would have found me fufficient entertainment 
 from looking ‘ the ladies. 
 
 I was very glad I did not fit next the Captain 5 
 for he could not bear the mufic or fingers, and was 
 extremely grofs inhis obfervations on both. When 
 the opera’ was over, we went into a place called the 
 coffee-room, where ladies, as well as gentlemen, af- 
 femble. There are all focte of refrefhments, and the 
 company walk about, and chat with the fame eafe 
 and freedom as in a private room, 
 
 On Monday we go to a ridotto, and on Wednef- 
 day we return to Fidward Grove. The Captain 
 fays he wont ftay here to be /moked with filth any 
 longer ; ; but, having been feven years Smoked with @ 
 burning fun, he w ill-retire to the country, and fink 
 into a fair-weather chap. 
 
 Adieu, my dear Sir. 
 
 LETTER XIII, 
 
 Evetina ix Coéntinution 
 
 My dear Sir, Tuefday, April 12% 
 
 We came home from the ridotto fo late, or 
 rather, fo .early, that it was not poffible for me to 
 write. Indeed we did not go—you will be frighten- 
 éd to hear it—till paft eleven o'clock: but nobody 
 does. A terrible reverfe’of the order of nature! We 
 fleep with the fun, and wake with the moon. 
 
 ‘The room was very magnificent, the lights and 
 decorations were brilliant, and the co ompany | gay and 
 fplendid. But I fhould have told you, that I made 
 many objections to being of the party, according to 
 the refolution I had cial. However, Maria 
 laughed me out of my fcruples, 
 
 and fo once again 
 1 went to an aflembly. 
 
 Mifs 
 
5H) 
 
 EVELINA. $7 
 
 Mifs Mirvan danced a minuet ; but I had not the 
 courage to’ follow her example. In our walks I faw 
 Lord Orville. He was quite alone, but did not ob- 
 ferve us. Yet, as he feemed of no party, I thought 
 it was not impoffible that he might join us; and 
 though I did not with much to dance at all—yet, 
 as I was more acquainted with him than with any 
 other perfon in the room, I mutt own I could not 
 help thinking it would be infinitely more defirable 
 to dance again with him than with an entire ftran- 
 ger. ‘To be fure, after all that had paffed, it was 
 very ridiculous to fuppofe it even probable that Lord 
 pOrville would again honour me with his choice ; syet 
 
 am comp @ led to confefs my abfurdity, by way of 
 
 xplaining what follows. 
 
 Mifs Mirvan was foon engaged; and prefently 
 after, a very fafhionable gay-looking man, who 
 feemed about thirty years of age, addrefled himfelf 
 tome, and begged to have the honour of dancing with 
 me. Now Maria’s partner was a gentleman of 
 Mrs. Mirvan’s acquaintance ; for fhe had told us it 
 was highly improper for young women to dance 
 with ftrangers at any public ailembly. Indeed it 
 was by no means my with fo to do: yet I did not 
 like to confine myfelf from dancing at all; neither 
 did I dare refufe this gentleman as I had diwae Mr. 
 Lovel, andthen, if any acquaintance fhould offer, 
 accept him: and fo, all thefe reafons combining, in- 
 hited me to tell him—yet I blufh to write it to you ! 
 —that I was already engaged ; by which I meant to 
 keep myfelf at liberty to ‘dance, or not, as matters 
 fhould fall out. 
 
 I fuppofe my confcioufnefs betrayed my artifice, 
 for he looked at me-as if incredulous ; and, inftead 
 of being fatisfied with my anfwer and leaving me, 
 according to my expectation, he walked at my fide, 
 and, with the greateft eafe imaginable, began a con- 
 verfation in the free ftyle which only belongsto oldand 
 intimate acquaintance. But, what was moit provoking 
 
 he 
 
EVELINA. 
 
 he afked me a thoufand queftions concerning the 
 partner to whom I was engaged. And at laft he faid, 
 « Ts it really. pof flible that a man whom you have 
 honoured with your acceptance can fail to be at hand 
 to profit from your gooc¢ dne 
 
 I felt extremely foolith ;- and begged Mrs. Mir- 
 yan to lead to a feat ; which the very obligingly did. 
 The Captain fat next her; and, to my great fur- 
 prife, this gentleman thought proper to follow, and 
 feat himfelf next to me. 
 
 «« What an infenfible!” continued he; ‘* why, 
 Madam, you are miffing the moft delightful dance 
 inthe world! The man mutt be either mad or a 
 fool— Which do you incline to think him yourfelf?’ od 
 
 «s Neither, Sir,” anfwered I in fome confufion. 
 
 He begged my pardon for the freedom of his fup- 
 pofition, aying, «« T really was off my guard, from 
 aftonifhment that any man can be fo much and fo 
 unaccountably his own enemy. But where, Ma- 
 dam, can he poilibly be ?—has he left the room ?— 
 or has not he been in it?” 
 
 «« Indeed, Sir,” faid I peevifhly, «2 know no- 
 thing of him,” 
 
 «¢ T don’t wonder that you are pete Ma- 
 dam ; it is really very provoking. The beft part of 
 the evening w ill be abfolute ly loft. He deferves not 
 that you fhould wait for him.” 
 
 «<I do not, Sir,” faid I, «and I beg you not 
 to———"" 
 
 «« Mortifying, indeed, Madam,” interrupted he, 
 *¢ a lady to wait fora gentleman!—O fie !—care- 
 lefs fellow!—What can detain him?—Will you 
 vive me leave to feek him Be ; 
 
 “Tf you pleafe, Sir,” anfwered I, quite terrified 
 left Mrs. Mirvan fhould attend to him; for fhe 
 looked very much furprifed at feeing me titer into 
 converfation with a { {tranger. 
 
 «* With all my heart,” cried he; “ pray, what 
 coat has he on ¢” 
 
 * Indeed 
 
EVELINA. 39 
 
 «¢TIndeed I never looked at it.” 
 
 * Out upon him!” cried he; «* What! did he 
 addrefs you ina coat not worth looking at ?—What 
 a fhabby wretch !” 
 
 How ridiculous! I really could not help laughing; 
 which I fear encouraged him, for he went on. 
 
 ae Charming creature !—and can you really bear 
 ill ufage with fo much fweetnefs? Can you, /rhe pa- 
 tience on a monument, {mile in the midk of difappoint- 
 ment '—For my part, though I am not the offended 
 perfon, my indignation is fo great, that I long to 
 kick the fellow round the room!—unlefs, indeed,— 
 (hefitating and looking earneftly at me), unlefs, in- 
 deed,—it is a partner of your own creating ?” 
 
 I was dreadfully abafhed, and could not make any 
 anfwer. 
 
 “« But no!” cried he (again, and with warmth), 
 ‘€ it cannot be that you are fo cruel! Softnefs itfelf 
 is painted in your eyes.— You could not, furely, have 
 the barbarity fo wantonly to trifle with my mi- 
 fery.” 
 
 I turned away from this nonfenfe with real dif. 
 guit: Mrs. Mirvan faw my confufion, but was per- 
 plexed what to think of it, and I could not explain 
 to her the caufe, Icft the Captain fhould hear me. I 
 therefore propofed to walk ; fhe confented, and we 
 all rofe 3 but, would you believe it? this man had 
 the affurance to rife too, and walk clofe by my: fide, 
 as if of my party ! 
 
 “* Now,” cried he, «I hope we fhall fee this in- 
 grate.—Is that he?”—pointing to an old man who 
 was lame, ‘or that?” -And in this manner he 
 afked me of whoever was old or ugly in the room. 
 I made no.fort of anfwer: and when he found that 
 I was refolutely filent, and walked on as much as 
 I could without obferving him, he fuddenly ftamped 
 with his foot, and cried out ina paflion, ‘* Fool! 
 ideot ! booby!” 
 
 I turned 
 
40 EVELINA. 
 
 I turned haftily toward him: “ O; Madam,” 
 continued he, “‘ forgive my vehemence ; but I am 
 diftraéted to think there fhould exift a wretch who 
 can flight a blefling for which I would forfeit my 
 life!—O that I could but meet him, I would foon 
 
 But I grow angry : pardon me, Madam, my 
 paflions are violent, and your injuries affe& me \” 
 
 I began to apprehend he was a madman, and 
 ftared at him with the utmoft aftonifhment.  ‘ I fee 
 you are moved, Madam,” faid he; ‘* generous 
 creature!—but don’t be alarmed, I am cool again, 
 I am indeed,—upon my foul I am ;—I intreat you, 
 moft lovely of mortals ! I intreat you to be eafy.” 
 
 «¢ Indeed, Sir,” faid I very ferioufly, “ I mutt in- 
 fift upon your leaving me; you are quite a ftranger 
 to me, and I am both unufed, and averfe to your 
 language and your manners.” 
 
 This feemed to have fome effet upon him. He 
 made a low bow, begged my pardon, and vowed 
 he would not for the world offend me. 
 
 “ Then, Sir, you mutt leave me,’ cried I, «TI 
 am gone, Madam, I am gone ’? with a moft tra- 
 gical air; and he marched away at a quick pace out 
 of fight in a moment; but before I had time to con- 
 gratulate myfelf, he was again at my elbow. 
 
 > J 
 «« And could you really let me go, and not be for- 
 
 ry ?—-Can you fee me fuffer torments inexprelilible, 
 and yet retain all your favour for that mifcreant. whe 
 flies you ?—Ungrateful puppy!—I could baitinado 
 him!” 
 
 «© For-Heaven’s fake, my dear,” cried Mrs. Mir- 
 van, ‘* who is he talking of?” 
 
 «¢ Indeed—I do. not know, Madam,” faid 13 
 «« but I with he would leave me.” 
 
 «© What’s all that there?” cried the Captain. 
 
 The man made alow bow, and faid, ** Only, Sis, 
 a flight objection which this. young lady makes to 
 dancing with mie, and which I am endeavouring to 
 
 obviate. 
 
EVELINA, 41 
 
 obviate. I fhall think myfelf greatly honoured if 
 you will intercede for me.” 
 
 « That lady, Sir,” faid the Captain coldly, ‘is 
 her own miftrefs.” And he walked fullenly on. 
 
 «© You, Madam,”. faid the man (who looked de- 
 lighted to Mrs. Mirvan), ‘* you, I hope, will have 
 the goodnefs to {peak for me.” 
 
 «: Sir,” anfwered fhe gravely, ‘ I have not the 
 pleafure af being acquainted with you.” 
 
 ««] hope when you have, Ma’am,” cried he un- 
 daunted, ‘¢ you will honour me with your appro- 
 bation: but, while I am yet unknown to you, it 
 would be truly generous in you to countenance me 5 
 and, I flatter myfelf, Madam, that you will not have 
 caufe to repent it.” 
 
 Mrs. Mirvan, with an embarraffed air, replied, 
 «¢ | do not at all mean, Sir, to doubt your being a 
 gentleman,—but 
 
 «« But what, Madam ?—that doubt removed, why 
 a but 2” 
 
 «« Well, Sir,” faid Mrs. Mirvan (with a good- 
 humoured fmile), ‘ I will even treat you with your 
 own plainnefs, and try what effect that will have 
 on you: I muft therefore tell you once for 
 
 ” 
 
 all—— 
 
 «© pardon me, Madam!” interrupted he ea- 
 gerly, ‘ you muft not proceed with thofe words 
 once for all; no, if I have beentoo plain, and, though 
 a man, deferve a rebuke, remember, dear ladies, 
 that if you copy, you ought in jultice to excufe 
 
 ” 
 me. 
 
 We both ftared at the man’s flrange behaviour. 
 
 ‘* Be nobler than your fex,’’ continued he, turn- 
 ing to me, “honour me with one dance, and give 
 up the ingrate who has merited fo ill your patience,” 
 
 Mrs. Mirvan looked with aftonifhment at us both. 
 «“Who does he fpeak of, my dear?—you never 
 mentioned a 
 
 ‘sé oO, 
 
42 
 
 «©O, Madam!” exclaimed he, “he was not 
 worth mentioning—it 1s ; pity he was ever thought 
 of; but let us f rget his xiftence. One dance Is “all 
 I folicit. Permit me, Madam, the honour of this 
 young lady’s hand; it will be a favour I fhall ever 
 mott gratef ledge.’ 
 «¢ Sir,” anfwered fhe favours and ftrangers 
 have with ynection.’ 
 
 «© Tf you have hithe *? {aid he, “ confined your 
 yenevolence to your intimate friends, fuffer me to be 
 
 1 i he ity is enlarged.’ 
 r not what to fay to you,— 
 
 but with fo many urgent intreaties, 
 that fhe at Jatt told me,je1I mutt ditten go down one 
 dance, or avoid his iinportunities by returning home, 
 I hefitated which alternative to choofe ; but this 
 impetuous man at length prevailed, and I was oblig- 
 ed to confent to dance with him. 
 
 And thus was my deviation from truth punifhed 5 
 and thus did this man’s determined boldnefs conquer. 
 
 During the dance, before we were too much en- 
 gaged i in it for converfation, he was extremely y pro- 
 voking about my partner, and tried every means in 
 his power to make me own that I had deceived him; 
 which, though I would not fo far humble my felf as 
 to acknowledge, was indeed but too obvious. 
 
 Lord Orville, I fancy, did not dance at all. He 
 feemed to have a large acquaintance, and joined fe- 
 veral different parties : but you will eafily fuppofe, 
 I was not much pleafed to fee him, in a few minutes 
 after I was gone, walk towards the place I had jutft 
 left, and bow to and join Mrs. Mirvan! 
 
 How unlucky I thought myfelf, that I had not 
 longer withft cod this { ftranger’ s importunities ! ~The 
 moment we had gone down the dance, I was haften- 
 ing away from him; but he ftopt me, and faid, that 
 I could by no means return to my party without 
 giving offence, before we had done our duty of walk. 
 
 ing 
 
EVELINA. 43 
 
 ing up the dance. As I know nothing at all of thefe 
 rules and cuftoms, I was obliged to fubmit to his 
 dire&tions; but I fancy we lodked rather uneafy, for 
 he took notice of my inattention, faying, in hts;free 
 way, ‘* Whence that anxiety '—-Why are thofe 
 lovely eye s perpetually averted?” 
 
 «| with you would fay no more to me, Sir? 
 cried I pe evifhly ; ** you have already deftroyed all 
 my happinefs for this eve ping 
 
 ‘«©Good Heaven! what is it I have done '—How 
 have I merited this fcorn:” e 
 
 «© You have tormented me to death; you have 
 forced me from my friends, and intruded yourfelf 
 upon me, ag raintt my will, for a partner. 
 
 «¢ Surely, my dear Madam, we ought to be: better 
 friends, fince — feems to be fomething of fympa- 
 thy in the franknefs of our difpofitions—And yet, 
 were you not an ang el—how do you think k I could 
 brook fuch contempt } : 
 
 «If I have offended you,” cried I, « you have 
 but to leave. me—and O how I with you would !” 
 
 s¢ My dear creature,” faid he, half laughing, 
 ‘¢ why where could you be educated ¢” 
 
 «© Where I mott fincerly with I now was!” 
 
 «© How confcious you muft be, all beautiful that 
 you are, that thofe charming airs ferve only to 
 heighten the bloom of your complexion !” 
 
 «“ Your freedom, Sir, where you are more ac= 
 quainted, may perhaps be lefs difagreeable ; but to 
 me——’ 
 
 «© You do me juttice,” cried he, interrupting me, 
 << yes, I doindeed improve upon acquaintance ; you 
 will hereafter be quite charmed with me.” 
 
 ‘« Hereafter, Sir, I hope I {hall never 
 
 «¢ © hufh!—huth!—have you forgot the fituation 
 in which I found you?——Have you for got, that when 
 deferted, I purfue “d you,—when betrayed, I adored 
 you ?—but bei me—” 
 
 ” 
 
 « But? 
 
EVELINA. 
 
 «But for you, Sir, I might perhaps have been 
 happy.” 
 
 «© What then, am I to conclude that, dut for me, 
 your partner would have a ppeared !—poor fellow !— 
 and did my prefence awe him !” 
 
 «¢ 1 with Avs prefence, Sir, could awe you !” 
 
 “¢ His prefence !_-perhaps then you fee him ?” 
 
 «Perhaps, Sir, I do,” cried I quite wearied of his 
 raillery. 
 
 ‘© Where? where?—for Heaven’s fake fhew me 
 the wretch!” “ 
 
 “¢ Wretch; Sir ?” 
 
 «© O, a very favage!—a fneaking, fhame-faced, 
 defpicable puppy !” 
 
 I know not what bewitched me—but my pride 
 was hurt, and my fpirits were tired, and—in {hort 
 —I_ had the folly, looking at Lord Orville, to: re- 
 peat, ** Defpicable, you think ?” 
 
 His eyes inftantly followed mine; ‘ Why, is 
 that the gentleman :” 
 
 I made no anfwer; I could not affirm, and I 
 would not deny :—for I hoped to be relieved from 
 his teafing by his miftake. 
 
 The very moment we had done what he called 
 our duty, I eagerly defired ro return to Mrs. Mir- 
 van. 
 
 ‘© To your partner, I prefume, Madam ?” faid he, 
 very gravely. 
 
 This quite confounded me. I dreaded left this 
 mifchievous man, ignorant of his rank, fhould ad- 
 drefs himfelf to Lord Orville, and fay fomething 
 which might expofe my artifice. Fool! to involve 
 myfelf in fuch difficulties! I now feared what I 
 had before wifhed ; and therefore, to avoid Lord Or- 
 ville, I was obliged myfelf to propo e going down 
 
 : g 
 another dance, though I was ready to fink with 
 
 fhame while I-f{poke. 
 « But your partner, Ma’am?” faid he, affec- 
 ting a very folemn air, “ perhaps he may refent my 
 detaining 
 
EVELINA. 45 
 
 detaining you: if you will give me leave to afk his 
 confent ad 
 
 ** Not for the univerfe.” 
 
 «« Who is he, Madam?” 
 
 1 wifhed myfelf a hundred miles off. He repeat- 
 ed his queftion, “ What is his name?” 
 
 «© Nothing—nobody—lI dont know—” 
 
 He affumed a moft important folemnity : « How! 
 —not know!—Give me leave, my dear Madam, to 
 recommend this caution to you; Never dance in 
 public with a ftranger,—with one whofe name you 
 are unacquainted with,—who may be a mere ad- 
 venturer,—a man of no-character,—confider to what 
 impertinence you may expofe yourfelf.” 
 
 Was ever any thing fo ridiculous? I could not 
 help laughing, in {pite of my vexation. 
 
 At this inftant, Mrs. Mirvan, followed by Lord 
 Orville, walked up to us. You will eafily believe 
 it was not difficult for me to recover my gravity ; 
 but what was my confternation, when this {trange 
 man, deftined to be the fcourge of my artifice, ex- 
 claimed, «* Ha! my Lord Orville !—I proteft I did 
 not know your Lordthip. What can I fay for my 
 ufurpation ?—Yet, faith, my Lord, fuch a prize was 
 not to be neglected.” 
 
 My fhame and confufion were unf{peakable. Who 
 could have fuppofed or forefeen that this man knew 
 Lord Orville? But falfehood is not more unjufti- 
 fiable than unfafe. 
 
 Lord Orville—well he might—looked all amaze-~ 
 ment. 
 
 « The philofophic coldnefs of your Lordthip,” 
 continued this odious creature, “ every man is not 
 endowed with. . I have ufed my utmolt endeavours 
 to entertain this lady, though I fear without fuccefs ; 
 and your Lordfhip will not be a little flattered, if 
 acquainted with the difficulty which attended my 
 procuring the honour of only one dance.” Then, 
 turning to me, who was finking with fhame, while 
 
 Lord 
 
EVE 
 
 Orville ftood motionlefs, and Mrs. Mirvan aftonifh- 
 ed,—he fuddenly feized my hand, faying, ‘ ‘Think, 
 my Lord, what muft be my reludtance to refign this 
 fair hand to your Lordfhip!” 
 
 In the fame infant, Lord Orville took it of him; 
 I coloured violently, and made an effort to recover 
 it. ‘< You dome too much honour, Sir. ;erldauhe; 
 (with an air of gallantry, prefling it to his lips before 
 he let it go); ‘* however, I fhall be happy to profit 
 by it, if this lady,” turning to Mrs. Mirvan, ¢ will 
 permit me to feek for her party.” 
 
 To compel ‘him, thus to dance, I could not en- 
 dure ; and-eagerly called out, ‘ By no means—not 
 for the world!—I muft beg——’’ 
 
 «* Will you honour me, Madam, with your com- 
 mands,” cried my tormentor; ‘* may I feck the 
 lady’s party p2! 
 
 «No Sir,” anfwered I, turning from him. 
 
 «« What /bai/ be done, my dear,” faid Mrs. Mirvan. 
 
 « Nothing, Ma’am ;—any thing, I mean iH 
 
 «« But do you dance, or not ; you fee his Lordthip 
 waits.” 
 
 «« T hope not—I beg that—I would not for the 
 world—lI am fure I ought to—to “ 
 
 I could not fpeak; but that confident man, de- 
 termining to difcover whether or not I had deceived 
 him, faid to Lord Orville, who ftood fufpended, 
 «© My Lord, this affair, which at prefent feems per 
 plexed, I will briefly explain :—this lady propofed 
 to me another dance,—nothing could have made me 
 more happy,—I only withed for your Lordfhip’s 
 permiffion ; which, if now granted, will, I am per- 
 fuaded, fet every thing right.” 
 
 I glowed with indignation. ‘* No, Sir—it is your 
 abfence, and that alone, can fet every thing right.” 
 
 «« For Heaven's fake, my dear,” cried Mrs. Mir- 
 van, who could no longer contain her furprife, 
 «« what does all this mean ?—were you pre-engaged ? 
 ——had Lord Orville——” 
 
 «« No, 
 
, 
 
 E,ViE.L,EN As 47 
 
 ** No, Madam,” cried I, ‘* only—only I did not 
 know that gentleman,—and {o,—and fo I thought 
 —I intended—I- 7 
 
 Overpowered by all that had paffed, I had not 
 ftrength to make my mortifying explanation ;—my 
 {pirits quite failed me, and I burit into tears. 
 
 They all feemed fhocked and amazed. 
 
 «© What is the matter, my deareit love?” cried 
 Mrs. Mirvan, with the kindeft concern. 
 
 *«« What have I done!”’ exclaimed my evil genius, 
 and ran officioufly for a glafs of water. 
 
 However, a hint was fufficient for Lotd Orville, 
 who comprehended all I would have explained. He 
 immediately led me to a feat, and faid, in a low 
 voice, ‘* Be not diftreffed, I befeech you; I fhall 
 ever think my name honoured by your making ufe 
 of it.” 
 
 This politenefs relieved me. A general murmur 
 had alarmed Milfs Mirvan, who flew inftantly to 
 me ; while Lord Orville, the moment Mrs. Mirvan 
 had taken the water, led my tormentor away. 
 
 «© For Heavens fake, dear Madam,” cried I, ¢¢ let 
 me go home ; indeed, I cannot ftay here any 
 longer.” 
 
 «‘ Let us all go,” cried my kind Maria. 
 
 «« But the Captain—what will he fay—I had bet- 
 ter go home in a chair.” 
 
 Mrs. Mirvan confented, and I rofe to depart. 
 Lord Orville and thatman both came tome. The 
 firft, with an attention I had but ill merited from 
 him, led me to acchair; while the other followed, 
 peftering me. with apologies. I wifhed to have 
 made mine to Lord Orville, but was too much 
 afhamed. 
 
 It was about one o’clock.. Mrs. Mirvan’s fer- 
 yants faw me home. 
 
 And now,—what again fhall ever tempt me to 
 an afflembly? I dread to hear what you will think 
 of me, my moft dear and honoured Sir; you will 
 
 need 
 
48 EVELINA. 
 
 need your utmoft: partiality to receive me without 
 difpleafure. 
 
 This morning Lord Orville has fent to inquire 
 after our health ; and Sir Clement Willoughby, for 
 that I find is the name of my perfecutor, has called ; 
 but I would not go down ftairs till he was ‘gone. 
 
 And now, my dear Sir, I can fomewhat account 
 for the ftrange, provoking, and ridiculous conduct 
 of this Sir Clement laft night; for Mifs Mirvan 
 fays, he is the very man with whom fhe heard Lord 
 Orville converfing at Mrs. Stanley’s, when I was 
 fpoken of in fo mortifying a manner. He was 
 pleafed to fay he was glad to hear I was a fool; and 
 therefore, I fuppofe, he concluded he might talk as 
 much nonfenfe as he pleafed to me: however, I am 
 very indifferent as to his opinion ;—but for Lord Or- 
 ville,—if then he thought me an idiot, now, I am 
 fure, he muft fuppofe me both bold and prefuming. 
 Wake ufe of his name, !—what impertinence !—he 
 can never know how it happened,—he can only 
 imagine it was from an excefs of vanity :—well, 
 however, I fhall Icave this bad city to-morrow, and 
 never again will I enter it. 
 
 The Captain intends to take us to-night to the 
 Fantocini. J cannot bear that Captain; I can give 
 you no idea how grofs he is. I heartily rejoice that 
 he was not prefent at the difagreeable conclufion of 
 yefterday’s adventure, for | am fure he would have 
 contributed to my confufion ; which might perhaps 
 have diverted him, as he feldom or never {miles but 
 at fome other perfon’s expence. 
 
 . And here I conclude my London letters, —and 
 without any regret ; for l am too inexperienced 
 and ignorant to condu@ myfelf with propriety in 
 this town, where every thing is new to me, an 
 many things are unaccountable and perplexing. 
 
 Adieu, my dear Sir; Heaven reftore me ‘fafely 
 to you! I with I was to go immediately to Berry 
 Hill; yet the with is ungrateful to Mrs. Mirvan, 
 
 and 
 
EVELINA. 49 
 
 and therefore I will reprefs it. I fhall write an ac- 
 count of the Fantocini from Howard Grove. We 
 have not been to half the public places that are now 
 open, though I dare fay you will think we have been 
 to all. But they are almoft as innumerable as the 
 perfons who fill them. 
 
 on eee 
 LETTER XIV. 
 EVELINA ix Continuation. 
 . Queen-Ann-Street, April 1g. 
 How much will you be furprifed, my deareft 
 Sir, at receiving another letter, from London, of your 
 Evelina’s writing! But, believe me, it was not my 
 fault, neither is it my happinefs, that I am {till here : 
 our journey has been poftponed by an accident equally 
 unexpected and difagreeable. 
 
 We went laft night to fee the Fantocini, where 
 we had infinite entertainment from the performance 
 of a little comedy in French and Italian, by puppets, 
 fo admirably managed, that they both aftonifhed and 
 diverted us all, except the Captain, who has a fixed 
 and moft prejudiced hatred of whatever is not 
 Englith. 
 
 When it was over, while we waited for the coach, 
 a tall elderly woman bruthed quickly paft us, call- 
 ing out, * My God! what fhall I do?” 
 
 “« Why, what weu/d you do?” cried the Captain. 
 
 “ Ma fai, Monfteur,” anfwered the, “I have loft 
 My company, and in this’ place I don’t know no- 
 body,” 
 
 There was fomething foreign in her accent, 
 though it was difficult to difcoyer whether fhe was 
 an Englifh or French woman. | She was very well 
 drefied ; and feemed fo entirely at a lofs what to do, 
 that Mrs. Mirvan propofed to the Captain to af- 
 fift her. 
 
 VOL, 1, D © Affift 
 
50 EVELINA. 
 
 « Afitt her!” cried he, “ay, with all my heart;— 
 let a link-boy call her a coach.” 
 
 There was not one to be-had, and it rained 
 very fait. 
 
 Mon Dieu!” exclaimed the ftranger, ** what fhall 
 become of me? Fe fuis au défefpair !” 
 
 « Dear Sir,” cried Mifs Mirvan, “ pray let us 
 take the poor lady into our coach. She is quite 
 alone, and a foreigner-——” 
 
 «¢ She’s never the better for that,” anfwered he: 
 
 é fhe may be a woman of the town, for any thing 
 you know.” 
 ” « She does not appear fuch,” faid Mrs. Mirvan; 
 «¢ and indeed fhe feems fo much diftrefled, that we 
 fhall but follow the golden rule, if we carry her to 
 her lodgings.” 
 
 “© You are mighty fond of new acquaintance,” 
 returned he; “ but firft let us know if fhe be going 
 our way.” 
 
 Upon inquiry, we found that fhe lived in Oxford 
 Road ; and, after fome difputing, the Captain fur- 
 lily, and with a very bad grace, confented to admit 
 
 her into his coach; though -he foon convinced us, 
 that he was determined the fhould not be too much 
 obliged to him, for he feemed abfolutely bent upon 
 quarrelling with her: for which ftrange inhofpitality 
 J can affign no other reafon, than that fhe appeared 
 to be a foreigner. 
 
 The converfation began, by her telling us, that 
 fhe had been in England only two days ;_ that the 
 gentlemen belenging to her were Parifians, and had 
 Jeft her to fee for a hackney-coach, as her own Car- 
 riage was abroad; and that fhe had waited for 
 them till fhe was quite frightened, and concluded 
 that they had loft themfelves. 
 
 «« And pray,” faid the Captain, ‘* why did you go 
 to a public place without an Englifhman ?” 
 
 “* Ma foi, Sir,” anfwered the,  becaufe none of 
 my acquaintance is in town.” 
 
 «« Why 
 
EVELINA. 5t 
 
 «« Why then,” faid he, I'll tell you what, your 
 beit way is to go out of it yourfelf.” 
 
 “« Pardt, Monfieur,’ returned fhe, ‘and fo I 
 fhall ; for, I promife you,I think the Englifh a parcel 
 of brutes; and I'll go back to France as faft as I 
 can, for I would not live among none of you.” 
 
 «© Who wants you:” cricd the Captain: ‘* do 
 you fuppofe, Madam French, we have not enough 
 of other nations to pick our pockets already? I'll 
 warrant you, there’s no need for you to put in your 
 oar.” 
 
 ‘¢ Pick your pockets, Sir!.1 wifk nobody wanted 
 to pick your pockets no more thanI do; and [’ll 
 promife you you'd be fafe enough. But there’s no 
 nation under the fun can beat the Englifh for ill- 
 politenefs: for my part, I hate the very fight of 
 them; and fo I fhall only juft vifit a perfon of qua- 
 lity or two of my particular acquaintance, and then 
 I {hall go back again to France.” 
 
 «© Ay do,” criedhe; ‘* and then go to the devil 
 together, for that’s the fitteft voyage for the French 
 and the quality.” 
 
 ‘© We'll take care, however,” cried the ftranger’ 
 with great vehemence, ‘ not to admit none of your 
 vulgar unmannered Englifh among us.” 
 
 «* © never fear,’ returned he coolly, «* we fhan’t 
 difpute the point with you; you and the quality 
 may have the devil all to yourfelves,” 
 
 Defirous of changing the fubje& of a converfa- 
 tion which now became very alarming, Mifs. Mir- 
 van called out, ‘* Lord, how flow the man drives!” 
 
 «¢ Never mind, Moll,” faidher father, « I’ll war- 
 rant youhe’ll drive faft enough to-morrow ,when you 
 are going to Howard Grove.” 
 
 ‘“¢To Howard Grove!” exclaimed: the {tranger, 
 ** why, mon Dieu, do you know Lady Howard?” 
 
 “« Why, what if-we do :” anfwered he; ‘ that’s 
 nothing to you ; fhe’s none of your quality, I'll pro- 
 mife you.” 
 
 Dz «< Whe 
 
EVELINA. 
 
 «« Who told you that?” cried: fhe; ‘ you don’t 
 know nothing about the matter; befides, you're 
 the ill- breddeft perfon ever I fee: and as to your 
 knowing Lady Howard, I don’t believe no fuch a 
 thing; unlefs , indeed, you are her fteward.’ 
 
 The Captain, {wearing terribly, faid, with great 
 fury, ‘ ¥Zu would much fooner be taken for her 
 wath-woman,” 
 
 “« Her waih-womean, indeed!—Ha, ha, ha! why 
 you han’t noeyes; did you ever fee a wafh-woman 
 in fuch a gown as pet befides, I’m no fuch mean 
 perfon, for I’m as good as Lady Howard, -and 
 as rich too; and befides, I’m now come to England 
 to vifit her.” 
 
 “You may fpare yourfelf that there trouble,” 
 faid the Captain, ‘‘ fhe has paupers enough about 
 her already.” 
 
 *¢ Paupers, Matter !—no more a pauper than 
 yourfelf, nor fo much neither;—but you area low, 
 dirty fellow, and I fhan’t ftoop to take no more no- 
 tice of you.” 
 
 <¢ Dirty fellow!” exclaimed the C: aptain, feizing 
 both her wrifts, ‘hark you, Mrs. Frog, you’d belt 
 hold your tongue ; for I mutt make bold to tell you, 
 if you don’t, that I fhall make no ceremony of trip- 
 ping } you out of the window, and there you may lie 
 in the mud till fome of your Mon/ee#s come to help 
 you out of it.” 
 
 Their increafing paffion quite terrified us; and 
 Mrs. Mirvan was beginning to remonttrate with 
 the Captain, when we were all filenced by what 
 follows. 
 
 « Let me go, villain that you are, let me go, or 
 Til promife you I'll get you to prifon for this 
 ufage. [’mno common perfon, I affure you ; and, ma 
 fri, TH go to Juftice Fielding about you ; for I'ma 
 perfon of fafhion, and Ill make you know it, or my 
 name a’n’t Duval.” 
 
 t heard 
 
EVELINA, §3 
 
 T heard no thore: amazed, frightened, and un- 
 fpeakably fhocked, an involuntary exclamation of 
 Gracious Heaven ! efcaped me, and, more dead than 
 alive, I fink into Mrs. Mirvan’s arms. But Jet me 
 draw a veil over a fcene too cruel for a heart fo 
 compaflionately tender as your’s ; it is fufficient that 
 you know this fuppofed foreigner proved to be Ma- 
 damé Duval,—the grandmother of your Evelina! 
 
 O, Sir, to difcover fo near a relation in a woman, 
 who had thus introduced herfelf ! what would 
 become of me, were it net for you, my protector, 
 my friend, and my refuge? 
 
 My extreme concern, and Mrs. Mirvan’s furprife, 
 immediately betrayed me. But I will not {hock you 
 with the manner of her acknowledging me, or the 
 bitternefs, the groffne/s—I cannot otherwife expre{s 
 myfelf,—with ‘which fhe {poke of thofe unhappy 
 paft tranfaions you have fo pathetically related to 
 me. All the mifery of a much-injured parent, 
 dear, though never feen, regretted, though never 
 known, crowded {fo forcibly upon my memory, that 
 they rendered this interview—once only excepted— 
 the moft affliting I can ever know. 
 
 When we {topt at her lodgings, the defired me to 
 accompany her into the houfe, and faid fhe could 
 eafily procure a soom for me to fleep in. Alarmed 
 and trembling, I turned to Mrs, Miryan.  « My 
 daughter, Madam,” {aid that {weet woman, “ can- 
 not fo abruptly part with her young friend; you 
 muft allow a little time to wean them from each 
 other.” 
 
 ** Pardon me, Ma’am,” anfwered Madame Du- 
 val, (who, from the time of her being known, fome- 
 what foftened her manners) ‘* Mifs can’t poffibly 
 be fo nearly conneéted to this child as I am.” 
 
 ‘« No matier for that,” cried the Captain, (who 
 
 efpoufed my caufe to fatisfy his own pique, tho’ an 
 awkward apology had paffed between them) ‘* fhe 
 was fent to us; and fo, dye fee, we-don't choofe for 
 to part with her.” - Bon 
 
 I pro- 
 
A. 
 
 54 7 ale Ops Be | 
 h 
 
 I promifed to wait upon: her at what time fhe 
 pleafed the next day ; and, after.a fhort debate, fhe 
 defired me to breakfaft with her, and we proceeded 
 to Queen-Ann-ftreet. 
 
 What an unfortunate adventure { J could not 
 clofe my eyes the whole night. A thoufand times 
 I withed I-had never left Berry-Hill : however, my 
 return fhall be accelerated to the utmoft of my 
 yower; and, once more in that abode of tranquil 
 happinefs, I will fuffer no temptation to allure me 
 elfewhere. : 
 
 Mrs. Mirvan was fo kind as to accompany me to 
 Madame Duval's houfe this morning. The Cap- 
 tain, too, offered his fervice ; which I declined, 
 froma fear fhe fhould fuppofe I meant to infult her. 
 
 She frowned mot terriblyupon Mrs. Mirvan 5 but 
 fhe received me with as much tendernefs as I believe 
 the is capable of feeling. Indeed, our meeting feems 
 really to have affected her; for when, overcome by 
 the variety of emotions which the fight of her oc- 
 cafioned, I almoft fainted in her arms, fhe burft 
 into tears, and faid, ‘let me not lofe my poor 
 daughter a fecondtime!? This unexpected humanity 
 foftened me extremely ; but fhe very foon excited 
 my warmeft indignation, by the ungrateful mention 
 fhe made of the belt'of men, my dear and moft 
 generous benefactor. However, grief and anger 
 mutually gave way to terror, upon her avowing, the 
 intention of her vifiting England was to make me 
 return with her to l’rance. This, fhe faid, was a 
 plan fhe had formed from the inftant fhe had heard 
 of my birth; which, fhe proteited, "did not reach 
 her ears till I muft have been twelve years of age; 
 but Monfieur Duval, who fhe declared was the 
 wortt hufband in the world, would not permit her to 
 do any thing fhe wifhed : he had been dead but three 
 months; which had been employed in arranging 
 certain affairsf that were no fooner fettled, than fhe 
 fet off for England, She was already ont of mourn- 
 
 ing, 
 
EVELINA. 55 
 
 ing, for fhe faid nobody here could tell how long fhe 
 had been a widow. 
 
 She muft have been married very early in life: 
 what her age is I donot know; _ but fhe really looks 
 to be lefs than fifty. She dre (les very gaily, paints 
 very high, and the traces of former beauty are {till 
 very vilible in her face. 
 
 I know not when, or how, this vifit would have 
 ended, had not the Captain called for Mrs. Mirvan, 
 and abfolutely infifted upon my attending her. He 
 is become, very fuddenly, fo warmly my friend, that 
 I quite dread his officioufnefs. Mrs. Mirvan, how- 
 ever, whofe principal ftudy feems to be healing thofe 
 wounds which her hufband inflicts, appeafe :d Ma- 
 dame Duval’s wrath, by a very polite invitation to 
 drink tea, and fpend the evening here. Not with- 
 out great difficulty was the Captain prevailed upon 
 to defer his journey fome time longer; but what 
 could be done?) It would have been indecent for 
 me to have quitted town the very inftant I difcovered 
 that Madame Duval was init; and to have flaid 
 here folely under her proteétion.—Mrs. Mirvan, 
 thank Heaven, was too kind for fuch a thought. 
 That fhe would follow us to Howard Grove, I al 
 moft equally dreaded. It is therefore determined, 
 that we remain in London for fome days, or a week : 
 though the Captain has declared that the old French 
 hag, as he is pleafed to call her, fhall fare never the 
 better for it. 
 
 My only hope is to get fafe to Berry Hill ; where, 
 countelled and fheltered by you, I fhall have nothing 
 more to fear. Adieu, my ever dear and molt 
 honoured Sir! I fhall have no happinefs till I am 
 again with you. 
 
LETTER. XV. 
 
 Mr. Vitvtars to EVELINA. 
 
 Berry Hill, April 26. 
 
 Ty the belicf and hope that my Evelina 
 would, ere now, have bid adieu to London, Lhad in- 
 tended to have deferred writing, till I heard of her 
 return to Howard Grove ; but the letter I have this 
 moment received, with intelligence of Madame Du- 
 val’s arrival in England, demands an immediate 
 anfwer. 
 
 Her journey hither equally grieves and alarms 
 me. How much did I pity my child, when I read 
 of a difcovery at once fo unexpe@ted and unwithed ! 
 I have long dreaded this meeting and its confe- 
 quence; to claim you, feems naturally to follow 
 acknowledging you. I am well acquainted with her 
 difpofition, and have for many years forefeen the 
 contelt which now threatens us, 
 
 Cruel as are the circumftances of this affair, you 
 muft not, my love, fuffer it to deprefs your fpirits : 
 remember, that while life is lent me, I will devote 
 it to your fervice; and, for future time, I will make 
 fuch provifion as fhall feem to me moft conducive 
 to your future happinefs. Secure of my pro- 
 teCtion, and relying on my tendernefs, lct no appre- 
 henfions of Madame Duval difturb your peace ; con- 
 du& yourfelf towards her with all the refpect and 
 deference due to fo near a relation, remembering al- 
 ways, that the failure of duty on her part, can by no 
 means juftify any neglect on yours. Indeed, the 
 more forcibly you are {truck with improprieties and 
 mifconduét in another, the greater fhould be your 
 obfervance and diligence to avoid even the fhadow of 
 fimilar errors.. Be careful, therefore, that no re- 
 miffhefs of attention, no indifference of obliging, 
 
 make 
 
: 
 
 EVELINA, 57 
 
 known to her the independence I affure you of ; but 
 when fhe fixes the time for her leaving England, 
 truit to me the tafk of refufing your attending her : 
 difagreeable to myfelf, I own, it will be ; yet to you, 
 it would be improper, if not impollible. 
 
 In regard to her opinion of me, I am more forry 
 than furprifed at her determined blindnefs ;— the 
 palliation which fhe feels the want of, for her own 
 conduct, leads her to feek for failings in all who 
 were concerned in thofe unhappy tranfactions which 
 fhe has fo much reafon to lament. And this, as it 
 is the caufe, fo we muft, in fome meafure, confider it 
 as the excufe of her inveteracy. 
 
 How grateful to me are your wifhes to return to 
 Berry Hill! Your lengthened ftay in London, and 
 the diffipation in which I find you are involved, fill 
 me with uneafinefs. [ mean not, however, that I 
 would have you fequeiter yourfelf from the party 
 to which you belong, fince Mrs, Mirvan might 
 thence infer a reproof which your youth and her 
 kindnefs would render inexcufable. J will not, 
 therefore, enlarge upon this fubject ; but content 
 myfelf with telling you, that I hall heartily rejoice 
 when E hear of your fafe arrival at Howard Grove, 
 for which piace I hope you will be preparing at the 
 time you receive this letter. 
 
 I cannot too much thank you, my beft Evelina, 
 for the minutenefs of your communications. Con- 
 tinue to me this indulgence, for I thould be mi- 
 ferable if in ignorance of your proceedings. 
 
 How new to you is the {cene of life in which you 
 are now engaged !—balls—plays—operas—ridottos! 
 —Ah, my child! at your return hither, how will 
 you bear the change? My heart trembles for your 
 future tranquillity,—Yet I’ will hope every thing, 
 trom the unfullied whitenefs of your foul, and the 
 native livelinefs of your difpofition. 
 
 Iam fure I need not fay, how much more-I was 
 pleafed with the miftakes of your inexperience at the 
 
 private 
 
58 EVELINA, 
 
 private ball, than with the attempted adoption of 
 more fafhionable manners at the ridotto. But your 
 confufion and mortifications were fuch as to entirely 
 filence all reproofs on my part. ei 
 
 I hope you will fee no more of Sir Clement 
 Willoughby, whofe converfation and boldnefs are 
 extremely difguftful to me. I was gratified by the 
 good-nature of Lord Orville, upon your making ufe 
 of his name; but I hope you will never again put 
 it to fuch a trial. 
 
 Heaven blefs thee, my dear child! and grant that 
 neither misfortune nor vice may ever rob thee of 
 that gaiety of heart which, refulting from innocence, 
 while it conftitutes your own,contributes alfo to the 
 felicity of all who know you! 
 
 ARTHUR VILLARS, 
 
 LETTER XVI 
 
 EveELina ¢o the Rev. Mr. V1ILLaRse. 
 
 Queen-Ann-Street, Thurfday morning, April 14. 
 Berore our dinner was over yefterday, Ma- 
 dame Duval came to tea ; though it will leffen your 
 furprife, to hear that it was near five o’clock, for 
 we never dine till the day is almoft over. She was 
 afked,into another room while the table was cleared, 
 and then was invited to partake of the defert. 
 
 She was attended by a French gentleman, whom 
 fhe introduced by the name of Monfieur Du Bois : 
 Mrs. Mirvan received them.both with her ufual po- 
 litenefs; but the Captain looked very much dif- 
 pleafed ; and after a fhort filence, very {ternly faid to 
 Madame Duval, ‘ Pray, who afked you to bring 
 that there {park with you?” 
 
 ‘«¢Q,” cried the, «I never go nowhere without 
 him.” 
 
 Another 
 
EVELINA, 59 
 
 Another fhort filence enfued, which was termi- 
 nated by the Captain’s turning roughly to the fo- 
 reigner, and faying, “ Do you know, Monjeer, that 
 you are the firft Frenchman I ever let come into my 
 houfe?” 
 
 Monfieur Du Bois made a profound bow. He 
 {peaks no Englith, and underftands it fo imperfeétly, 
 that he might poflibly imagine he had received a 
 compliment. 
 
 Mrs. Mirvan endeavoured to divert the Captain’s 
 ill-humour, by ftarting new fubjects; but he left 
 to her all the trouble of fupporting them, and leant 
 back in his chair in gloomy filence, except. when 
 any opportunity offered of uttering fome farcafm 
 upon the French, Finding her efforts to render the 
 evening agreeable were fruitlefs, Mrs. Mirvan pro- 
 pofed a party tu Ranelagh. Madame Duval joy- 
 fully confented to it 5 and the Captain, though he 
 railed againit the diffipation of the women, did not 
 oppofe it; and therefore Maria and I ran up ftairs 
 to drefs ourfelves. 
 
 Before we were ready, word was brought us, that 
 Sir Clement Willoughby was in the drawing-room. 
 He introduced himfelf under the pretence of inquir- 
 ing after all our healths,and enteredtheroom with the 
 eafy air of an old acquaintance ; though Mrs. Mir- 
 van confefles that he feemed embarraffed when he 
 found how coldly he was received, not only by the 
 Captain, but by herfelf. 
 
 I was extremely difconcerted at the thoughts of 
 feeing this man again, and did not go down ftairs 
 till I was called: to tea. He was then deeply en- 
 gaged in a difcourfe upon French manners with 
 Madame Duval and the Captain; and the fubject 
 feemed fo entirely to engrofs him, that he did not, 
 at firft, obferve my entrance into the room. Their 
 converfation was fupported with great vehemence 3 
 the Captain roughly maintaining the fuperiority of 
 the Englith in every particular, and Madame Duval 
 
 warmly 
 
60 EVELINA. 
 
 warmly refufing to allow of it in any ; while Sir 
 Clement exerted all his powers of argument and of 
 ridicule, to fecond and {trengthen whatever was ad- 
 vanced by the Captain: for he had the fagacity to 
 difcover, that he could take no method fo effectual 
 for making the matter of the houfe his friend, as to 
 make Madame Duval his enemy ; and indeed, ina 
 very fhort time, he had reafon to congratulate him- 
 felf upon his fuccefsful difcernment, 
 
 As foon as he faw me, he made a moft refpectful 
 bow, and hoped I had not fuffered from the fatigue 
 of the ridotto; I made no other anfwer than a flight 
 inclination of the head, for I was very much afham- 
 ed of that whole affair. He then returned to the 
 difputants ; where he managed the argument fo fkil- 
 fully, at once provoking Madame Duval, and de- 
 lighting the Captain, that I could not forbear ad- 
 miring his addrefs, though I condemned his fubtlety. 
 Mrs. Mirvan, dreading fuch violent antagonitts, at- 
 tempted frequently to change the fubjeé&t ; and fhe 
 might have fucceeded, but for the interpofition of 
 Sir Clement, who would not fuffer it to be given 
 up, and fupported it with fuch humour and fatire, 
 that he feems to have’ won the Captain’s heart ; 
 though their united forces fo enraged and over- 
 powered Madame Duval, that fhe really trembled 
 with paffion. 
 
 I was very glad when Mrs. Mirvan faid it was 
 time to be gone. Sir Clement arofe to take leave ; 
 but the Captain very cordially invited him to join 
 our party: he Aad an engagement, he faid, but 
 would give it up to have that pleafure. 
 
 Some little confufion enfued jn regard to our man-~ 
 ner of fetting off. Mrs. Mirvan offered Madame 
 Duval a place in her coach, and propofed that we 
 four females fhould go all together: however, this 
 fhe rejected, declaring, fhe would by no means go 
 fo far without a gentleman, and wondering fo po- 
 lite a lady could make /2 Englifh a propofal. ‘Sir 
 
 Clement 
 
EUVLE. LNA, 61 
 
 Clement Willoughby faid, his chariot Was waiting 
 at the door, and begged to know if it could be of 
 any ufe. It was at laft decided, that a hackney- 
 coach fhould be called for Monfieur Du Bois and 
 Madame Duval, in which the Captain, and, at his 
 requelt, Sir Clement, went alfo ; Mrs. and Mifs 
 Mirvan and I hada peaceful and comfortable ride 
 by ourfelyes. < 
 
 I doubt not but they quarrelled all the Way; for 
 when we met at Ranelagh, every one feemed out 
 of humour: and though we joined parties, poor 
 Madame Duval was avoided as much as poflible by all 
 but me. 
 
 The room was fo very much crowded, that but 
 for the uncommon afliduity of Sir Clement Wil. 
 loughby, we fhould not have been able to procure a 
 box (which is the name given to the arched recefles 
 that are appropriated for tea-parties) till half the 
 company had retired. As we were taking pol- 
 feflion of cur places, fome ladies of Mrs. Mirvan’s 
 acquaintance {topped to {peak to her, and per- 
 fuaded her to take a round with them. When fhe 
 returned to us, what was my furprife, to fee that 
 Lord Orville had joined her party! The ladies 
 walked on: Mrs, Mirvan feated herfelf, and made 
 a flight, though refpectful, invitation to Lord Or- 
 ville to drink his tea with us; which, to my no 
 fmall confternation, he accepted. 
 
 L felt a confufion unfpeakable at again feeing 
 him, from the recollection of the ridotto adventure ; 
 nor did my fituation leflen it; for I was feated be- 
 tween Madame Duval] and Sir Clement, who feem- 
 ed as little as myfelf to defire Lord Orville’s pre= 
 fence. Indeed, the continual wrangling and ill- 
 breading of Captain Mirvan and Madame Duval, 
 made me blufh that J belonged to them. And poor 
 Mrs. Mirvan and her amiable daughter had {till lefs 
 reafon to be fatisfied, 
 
 A general 
 
62 EVELINA. 
 
 A general filence enfued after he was feated: . his 
 appearance, from. different motives, gave an uni- 
 verfal reftraint to every body. What his own rea- 
 fons were for honouring us with his company, I 
 cannot imagine ; unlefs, indeed, he had a curiofity 
 to know whether J fhould invent any new impetti- 
 nence concerning him. 
 
 The firft fpeech was made by Madame Duval, 
 who faid, ‘‘ It’s quite a fhocking thing to fee ladies 
 
 ~ come to fo genteel a place as Ranelagh with hats 
 on; it has a monftrous vulgar look : 1 can’t think 
 what they wear them for. ‘There is no fuch a thing 
 to be feen in Paris.” 
 
 « Indeed,” cried Sir Clement, ‘* I nauft own my- 
 felf no advocate for hats; I am forry the ladies ever 
 invented or adopted fo tantalizing a fafhion: for, 
 where there is beauty, they only ferve to fhade it; 
 and where there is none, to excite a moft unavailing 
 curiofity. I fancy they were originally worn by 
 fome: young and whimfical coquet.” 
 
 «« More likely,” anfwere d the Captain, «e they 
 were invefited by fome w rinkled old hag, who'd a 
 mind for to keep the young fellows in chace, let 
 them be never fo weary.” 
 
 «© | don’t know what you may do in England, 
 cried Madame Duval, “ but 1 know in Paris no 
 woman needn't be at fach a trouble as that to be 
 taken very genteel notice of.” 
 
 « Why, will you pretend for to fay,” returned 
 the Captain, ‘ that they don’t diftinguifh the old 
 from the young there as Ww ell as here?” 
 
 «© They don't make no diftingviihments at all; 
 faid fhe ; ** they’re vattly too polite.” 
 
 «« More fools they!” cried the Captain, {necr- 
 ingly. 
 
 <¢ Would to Heaven,” cried Sir Clement, cethat, 
 for our own fakes, we Englifhmen. too were bleft 
 with fo accommodating a blindnefs !” 
 
 ” 
 
 os Why 
 
EVELINA. 63 
 
 “Why the devil do you make fuch 2 prayer as 
 that?” demanded the Captain: ‘ them are the firft 
 foolifh words I’ve heard you fpeak; but I fup- 
 pofe you’re not much ufed to that fort of work. 
 Did you ever make'a prayer before fince you werea 
 {niveler?” 
 
 ** Ay, now,” cried Madame Duval, « that’s an- 
 other of the unpolitenefles of you Englith, to go to 
 talking of fuch things as that: now in Paris, no- 
 body never fays nothing about religion, no more 
 than about politics.” 
 
 “« Why then,” anfwered he, “ ’tis a fign they 
 take no more care of their fouls than of their country, 
 and fo both one and t’other go to old Nick.” 
 
 “« Well, if they do,” faid fhe, « who’s the worfe, 
 fo long as they don’t fay nothing about it? it’s the 
 tirefomett thing in the world to be always talking 
 about them fort of things, and nobody that’s ever 
 been abroad troubles their heads about them.” 
 
 «¢ Pray then,” cried the Captain, “ fince you know 
 fo much of the matter, be fo good as to tell us what 
 they do trouble their heads about i—Hey, Sir Cle- 
 ment! han’t we a right to know that much ?” 
 
 “« A very comprehenfive gueftion,” faid Sir Cle. 
 ment, ‘and I expect much inftruGtion fro | 
 lady s anfwer.” pig 
 
 «© Come, Madam,” cotinued the Caniateaes b. 
 ver flinch ; fpeak at once; don’t {top for t in ing.” 
 
 “ J affure you Iam not going,” anfwered the ; 
 “ for as to what they do do, why they've enough to 
 do, I promife you, what with one thing or another.” 
 
 « But what, what do they do, thefe famous Mon- 
 feers ?” demanded the Captain ; ** can’t you tell us? 
 
 “do they game ?—or drink ?—or fiddle *—or are they 
 jockies?—or do they {pend all their time tn flum- 
 mering old women:” 
 
 ** As to that, Sir,—but indeed I fhan’t trouble 
 myfelf to anfwer fuch a parcel of low queftions, 
 fo don’t afk me no more about it.” “And then, to 
 
 my 
 
 oO 
 
EWE L I N-As 
 my great vexation, turning to Lord Orville, fhe 
 faid, “ Pr ay, Sir, was you ever in Paris?” 
 
 ae only bowed. 
 
 «¢ And pray, Sir, how did you | like it: 
 
 This comprehe nfi ve queftion, as Sir Clement 
 would have called it, though it made him file, alfo 
 pit him hefitate ; however, his anfwer was ex- 
 preflive of his ap] probation. 
 
 «T thought,you woul Idlike it, Sir, becaufe you look 
 fo like a gentleman. As to the Captain, and_as to 
 that other ¢ gentleman, why they may very well not 
 like what they don’t know: for I fuppofe, Sir, 
 you was never abroad !” 
 
 «© Only three years, Ma’am,” anfwered Sir Cle= 
 ment, drily. 
 
 «© Well, that’s very Nae IT fhould never 
 have thought it: however, I dare fay you only kept 
 company with the E nelith.” 
 
 «© Why, pray, who fhould he keep company 
 with?” ies the Captain: * what, l fuppofe you ‘d 
 have him afhamed of his own nation, like fome 
 ether people not a thoufand mi iles off, on. pu rpofe 
 to make his own nation afhamed of him ?” 
 
 «« I’m fure it would be a very good thing if you'd 
 
 jac d yourfelf.” Bey et 
 WW will you make out that, hey, Madam? 
 to tell me, where would be the good 
 
 : 
 S 
 ger 
 
 “ Where! why a great deal. They'd make quite 
 another perfon of you.” 
 
 ss What, I fuppofe you'd have me to learn to cut 
 capers *—and drefs like a monkey. ?-~—and_palaver 
 in French gibberifh ?—hey, would you ?— And 
 powder, and daub, and make myfelf up, like fome 
 other folks ?? 
 
 «© T would have you to learn to be more polifery 
 Sir, and not to-talk to ladies in fuch a rude, old- 
 fafhion way as this. You, Sir, as haye been in 
 Paris,” (again addreffing herfelf to Lord Orville} 
 
 “ can 
 
64 Eee Lb INA 
 
 my great vexation, turning to Lord Orville, fhe 
 faid, “ Pr ray, Sir, was you ever in Paris?” 
 
 Fe only bowe ys 
 
 «« And pray, Sir, how did you like it” 
 
 This compre se quettion, as Sir Clement 
 would have called it, though it made him fmile, alfo 
 made him hefitate ; however, his anfwer was ex- 
 preflive of his approbation. 
 
 «<7 thought you wouldlike it, Sir, beca uufe you look 
 fo like a gentleman. As to the Captain, and_as to 
 that other "gentleman, why they may very well not 
 like what they don’t know: for I fuppofe, Sir, 
 you was never abroad !” 
 
 «« Only three years, Ma’am,”’ anfwered Sir Cle- 
 ment, drily. 
 
 « Well, that’s very furprifing! I fhould never 
 have thought it: hose I dare fay you only kept 
 company with the E nglith.’ 
 
 “6 W hy, pray, a oie Jhould he keep company. 
 with?” criedthe Captain: ‘« what, I fuppofe you'd 
 have him afhamed of his own nation, like fome 
 other people not a thoufand miles off, on purpote 
 to make his own nation afhamed of him ?” 
 
 « |’m fure it would be a very good thing if you'd 
 
 joad yourfelf.” ee 
 foWewill you make out that, hey, Madam? 
 Bigs to tell me, Where would be the good 
 
 ee aererene se near 
 
 «« Where! why a greatdeal. “They’d make quite 
 another perfon of you.” ; 
 
 es What, I fuppofe you'd have me to learn to cut 
 capers '——and drefs like a monkey. ?-—and palaver 
 in French gibberifh ?—hey, would you ?— And 
 citar, and daub, and make myfelf up, like fome 
 other folks ?’ 
 
 «© T would have you to learn to be more politer, 
 Sir, and not to-talk to ladies in fuch a rude, old- 
 fafhion way as this. ‘You, Sir, as have been in 
 Paris,” (again addreffing herfelf to Lord Orville} 
 
 « can 
 
EVELINA, 63 
 
 *« can tell this Englifh gentleman how he'd be de> 
 {pifed, if he was to talk in fach an ungenteel man- 
 ner as this before any foreigners. Why, there is 
 n't a hair-dreffer, nor a fhoemaker, nor nobody; 
 that wouldn’t blufh to be in your company.” 
 
 « Why, look ye, Maddm,” anfwered the Cap- 
 tain, ‘* as to your hair-pinchers and fhoe-blacks, 
 you may puff off their manners, and welcome ; 
 and I am heartily glad you like ‘em fo well: but 
 as to me, fince you muft needs make fo free of 
 youradvice, I mutt c’en tell you, I never kept com- 
 pany with any fuch gentry.” 
 
 ‘© Come, ladies and gentlemen,” faid Mrs. Mir- 
 van, ‘* as many of you as have done tea, I invite 
 to walk with me.” Maria and I ftarted up inftant- 
 ly ; Lord Orville followed ; and I queftion whether 
 we were not half round the room ere the angry 
 difputants knew that we had left the box. 
 
 As the hufband of Mrs. Mirvan had borne fo 
 large a {hare in this difagreeable altercation, Lord 
 Orville forbore to make any comments upon it ; 
 fo that the fubje&t was immediately dropt, and 
 the converfation became calmly fociable, and po- 
 litely cheerful, and, to every body but me, mutt 
 have been highly agreeable :—but, as to mylf, I 
 was fo eagerly defirous of making fome 3 
 Lord Orville for the impertinence of 
 muft have thought me guilty at the 
 yet fo utterly unable to aflume fufficien rage 
 to fpeak to him concerning an affair in which I 
 had fo terribly expofed myfelf, that I hardly ven- 
 tured to fay a word all thé time we were walking, 
 Befides, the knowledge of his contemptuous opi- 
 nion haunted and difpirited me, and made me 
 fear he might poflibly mifconftrue whatever I 
 fhould fay. So that, far from’ enjoying a cenver- 
 {ation which might, at any other time, have de- 
 lighted me, I continued —filent, uncomfortable, 
 and afhamed. O Sir, fhall I ever again involve 
 
 my {elf 
 
66 EVELINA. 
 
 myfelf in fo foolifh an embarraflment? Iam fure 
 that, if I do, I fhall deferve yet greater mortifi- 
 cation. 
 
 We were ‘not joined by the reft of the party till 
 we had taken three or four turns round the room 3 
 and then they were fo quarrelfome, that Mrs, 
 Mirvan complained of being fatigued, and _pro- 
 pofed going home. No one diffented. Lord Or- 
 ville joined ‘another party, having firft made an 
 offer of his fervices, which the gentlemen decli- 
 ned, and we proceeded to an outward room, 
 where we waited for the carriages. It was fettled 
 that we fhould return to town in the ae manner 
 we came to Ranelagh; and, accordingly, Monfieur 
 Du Bois handed Madame Duval into a hackney- 
 coach, and was juft p eparing to follow her, when 
 fhe {creamed, and jumped haftily out, declaring fhe 
 was wet through all her clothes. Indeed, upon 
 examination, the coach was found to be in a difmal 
 condition; for the weather proved very bad, and 
 the rain had, though I know not how, made its 
 way into the carriage. 
 
 Mrs. and Mifs Mirvan, and myfelf, were already 
 difpofed of as before; but no fooner did the Cap- 
 
 inwhear this account, than, without any cere- 
 
 ae was fo civil as to immediately take pof- 
 ‘ fhe vacant feat in his own coach, leaving 
 aval and Monfieur Du Bois to take care 
 ves. As to Sir Clement Willoughby, his 
 own chariot was in waiting. 
 
 I inftantly begged permiffion to offer Madame 
 Duval my own place, and made a motion to get 
 out; but Mrs. Mirvan flopped me, faying, that 
 I fhoul d then be obliged to return to town with 
 only the foreigner, or Sir Clement. 
 
 “© never mind the old Beldame,” cried the 
 Captain; ‘“ fhe’s weather-proof, I’il anfwer for 
 tee and befides, as we are all, I hope, Englifh, 
 
 why, 
 
EVELINA. 67 
 
 why, fhe'll meet with no worfe than fhe expects 
 from us.” 
 
 ‘© T do not mean to defend her,” faid Mrs. Mir- 
 van; ‘ but indeed, as fhe belongs to our party, 
 we cannot, with any decency, leave the place till 
 the is, by fome means, accommodated.” 
 
 ‘« Lord, my dear,” cried the Captain, whom 
 the diftrefs of Madame Duval had put into very 
 good humour, ‘* why fhe’ i break her heart if fhe 
 meets with any civility froma filthy Englifhman.” 
 
 Mrs. Mirvan, however; ‘prevailed and we all 
 got out of the coach, to wait till Madame Duval 
 could meet with fome better carriage. We found 
 her, attended by Monfieur Du_ Bois, ftanding 
 amongft the fervants, and very bufy in wiping her 
 negligee, and endeavouring to fave it from being 
 {taine ed by the wet, as fhe faid it was a new Lyons 
 filk. Sir Clement W illoughby offered her the ufe 
 of his chariot, but fhe had been too much piqued 
 by his raillery to accept it. We waited fome time, 
 but in vain ; for no hackney-coach could be pro- 
 cured. The Captain, at laft, was perfuaded to 
 accompany Sir Clement himfelf, and we four fe- 
 males were handed into Mrs. Mirvan’s carriage, 
 though not before Madame Duval had infifted up- 
 on our making room for Monfieur Du Bois, to which 
 the Captain only confented in preference to being 
 incommoded by him in Sir Clement's chariot. 
 
 Our party drove off firft. We were filent and 
 unfociable ; for the difficulties attending this ar- 
 yangement had made every one languid and fa- 
 tigued. Unfociable, I muft own, we continued ; 
 but very fhort was the duration of our filence, as 
 we had not proceeded thirty yards, before every 
 voice was heard at once,—for the coach broke 
 down! I fuppofe we concluded, of courfe, that we 
 were all half-killed, by the violent fhricks that 
 feemed te come from every mouth. © The‘thariot 
 was ftopped, the fervants came to our afliftance, 
 
 and 
 
68 EVELINA. 
 
 and we were taken out of the carriage, without 
 having been at all hurt. “The ni as dark and 
 wet; but I had fcarce touche whe 
 I was lifted fuddenly from it by 
 
 Willoughby, who begged permiflion t 
 
 though he did not wait to have i 
 
 carried me in his arms back 
 
 He inquired very earneftly if I 
 the accident? I affured him I was 
 and free from injury; and defi 
 me, and return to the reft of the 
 very uneafy to know whether they h: een equally 
 fortunate. He told me he was h appy 1 being ho- 
 noured with my commands, abd phe joyfully 
 execute them ; but infifted upon firlt conducting 
 me to a warm room, as I had not wholly efcaped 
 heing wet. He did not regard my o bjcetions ; but 
 niade me follow him to an apartment, where we 
 found an excellent fire, and fome company waiting 
 for carriages. I readily accepted a feat, and then 
 begged he would go. 
 
 And go, indeed, he did; but he returned in 4 
 moment, telling me that the rain was more € vi0- 
 lent than ever, and that he had fent his fervants 
 to offer their affiftance, and acquaint the Muzrvans 
 of my fituation. I was very mad that he would 
 not go himfelf; but as my ac quaintance with him 
 vas “fo very flight, I did not think proper to urge 
 him contrary to his inclination. 
 
 Well, he drew a chair clofe to mine; and,, after 
 again inquiring how I did, faid, in a low voice, 
 «© You will pardon me, Mifs Anville, if the eager- 
 nefs I feel to vindicate myfelf, induces me to 
 {natch this opportunity of making { fincere acknow- 
 ledements for the impertinence with which I tor- 
 mented you at the laft ridotto.. I can affure you, 
 Madam, I have been a true and forrowful peni- 
 tent ever fince ; but—fhall I tell you honeltly what 
 encouraged me to 4 
 
EVELINA, 69 
 
 He ftopt, but I faid nothing ; for I thought in- 
 ftantly of the converfation Mifs Mirvan had over- 
 heard, and fuppofed he was going to tell me himfelf 
 what part Lord Orville had “peene in it; and really 
 I did not with to hear it repeated. Tndeed, the 
 rett of his fpeech coni ‘inces me that fuch was his 
 intention ; with what view I know not, except to 
 make a merit of his defa ming me. 
 
 «© And yet," he continued, ‘« my excufe may 
 only expofe my own credulity, and want of judg- 
 ment and penetration. I will, therefore, merely 
 befeech your pardon, and hope that fome future 
 time . 
 
 Juft then the door was opened by Sir Clement's 
 fervant, and I had the ple alure of feeing the Cap- 
 tain, Mrs. and Mifs Mirvan, enter the room. 
 
 “Oho!” cried the former, « you have gota 
 good warm birth here; but we fhall beat up your 
 quarters. Here, Lucy, Moll, come to the fire, 
 and dry your trumpery. But, hey-day,—where’s 
 old Madame French ?” 
 
 * Good God,” cried I, « is not Madame Duval 
 then with you f” . 
 
 “« With me! No,—thank God.” 
 
 I was very unealy to know what might have 
 become of her; and, if they would have fuffered 
 me, I fhould ae ve gone out in fearch of her myfelf ; 
 but all the fervants were difpate hed to find her ; 
 and the Captain faid, we might be very fure her 
 French beau would take care of her. 
 
 We waited fome time without any tidings, and 
 were foon the only party in the room. My unea- 
 finefs increafed fo much, that Sir Clement now 
 made a voluntary offer of fecking her. However, 
 the fame moment that. he opened the door with 
 this delign, fhe prefented herfelf at it, attended 1 by 
 Montieus du Bois. 
 
 © I was this inflant, Madam,” faid he,  com- 
 ing to fee for you.” 
 
 + You 
 
70 EVELINA. 
 
 «© You are mighty good, truly,” cried the, * te 
 come when all the mifchief’s over.” 
 
 She then entered,—in fuch a condition !—en- 
 tirely covered with mud, and in fo great a rage, 
 it was with difficulty fhe could fpeak. We all 
 expreiled our concern, and offered our afliftance 
 —except the captain; who no fooner beheld her, 
 than he burft into a loud laugh. 
 
 We endeavoured, by our inquiries and con- 
 dolements, to prevent her attending to him; and 
 fhe was for fome time fo wholly engroffed by her 
 anger and her diftrefs, that we fucceeded without 
 much trouble. We begged: her to inform us how 
 this accident had happened. ‘* How!” repeated fhe, 
 —~‘§ why it was all along of your all going away, 
 —-and there poor Monfieur Du Bois—but it wasn’t 
 his fault,—for he’s as bad off as me.” 
 
 All eyes were then turned to Monfier Du Bois, 
 whole Clothes were in the fame miferable plight 
 with thofe of Madame Duval, and who, wet, fhi- 
 vering, and difconfolate, had crept to the fire. 
 
 The Captain laughed yet more heartily ; while 
 Mrs. Mirvan, afhamed of his rudenefs, repeated 
 her inquiries to Madame Duval ; who tanfwered, 
 «© Why, as we were a-coming along, all in the 
 rain, Monfieur Du Bois was fo obliging, though 
 I'm fure it was an unlucky obligingnefs for me, as 
 to lift me up in his arms to carry me over a place 
 that was ancle-deep in mud; but, inftead of my 
 being ever the better for it, juft as we were in the 
 wort part,—I’m fure I with we had been_ fifty 
 miles off,—for fomehow or other his foot flipt,— 
 at leaft, I fuppofe fo,—though I can’t think how 
 it happened, for I’m no fuch great weight ;—but, 
 however that was, down we both came together, 
 allin the mud; and the more we tried to get up, 
 the more deeper we got covered with the naftinefs 
 —and my new Lyons negligee, too, quite {poilt! 
 -~-howeyer, it’s well we got up at all, for weunight 
 
 have 
 
EV V;-EOL: I NAS 7t 
 
 have laid there till now, for aught you all cared ; 
 nobody never came near us.” 
 
 This recital put the Captain into an ecitafy ; he 
 went from the lady to the gentleman, and from 
 the gentleman to the lady, to enjoy alternately the 
 fight of their diftrefs. He really fhouted with 
 pleafure ; and, fhaking Monfieur Du Roig ftrenu- 
 aufly by the hand, wifhed him joy of having 
 touched Englifh ground; and then he held a candle 
 to Madame Duval, that he might have a more 
 complete view of her difafter, declaring repeated- 
 ly, that he had never been. better pleafed in his 
 life. 
 
 The rage of poor Madame Duval was unfpeak- 
 able; fhe dafhed the candle out of his hand, 
 ftamped upon the floor, and, at laft, {pit in his 
 face. 
 
 This a@ion feemed immediately to calm them 
 both, as the joy of the Captain was converted in- 
 to refentment, and the wrath of Madame Duval 
 into fear: for he put his hands upon her fhoul- 
 ders, and gave her fo violent a fhake, that fhe 
 {creamed out for help ; ailuring her, at the fame 
 time, that if fhe had been one ounce lefs. old, or 
 ugly, fhe fhould have had it all returned on her 
 own face, 
 
 Monfieur Du Bois, who had feated himfelf very 
 quietly at the fire, approached them, and expof- 
 tulated very warmly with the Captain ; but he was 
 neither under{tood nor regarded ; and Madame Du- 
 val was not releafed till fhe quite fobbed with 
 paffion. 
 
 When they were parted, I intreated her to per- 
 mit the woman who has the charge of the ladies 
 cloaks to affift in drying her clothes; fhe confent- 
 ed ; and we did what was poflible to fave her 
 from catching cold. We were obliged to wait in 
 this difgreeable fituation near an hour before a 
 hackney-coach could be found; and then we 
 
 were 
 
72 EVELINA. 
 
 were difpofed in the fame manner as before our 
 accident. 
 
 [am going this morning to fee poor Madame 
 Duval, and to inquire after her health, which I 
 think muft have fuffered by her laft night's mif- 
 fortunes; though, indeed, fhe feems to be natu- 
 rally ftrong and hearty. 
 
 Adieu, my dear Sir, till to-morrow. 
 
 LET TER <-XvVil. 
 
 Evevina in Continuation. 
 Friday Morning, April 15. 
 Sir Clement Willoughby called here yetter- 
 day at noon, and Captain Mirvan invited him to 
 dinner. For my part, I fpent the day in a manner 
 the moft uncomfortable imaginable. 
 
 I found Madame Duval at breakfaft in bed, tho’ 
 Monfieur Du Bois was in the chamber; which fo 
 much aftonifhed me, that I was, involuntarily, re- 
 tiring, without confidering how odd an appearance 
 my retreat would have, when Madame Duval called 
 me back, and laughed very heartily at my ignorance 
 of foreign cuftoms. 
 
 The converfation, however, very foon took a 
 more ferious turn: for the began, with great bitter- 
 nefs, to inveigh againft the barbarous brutality of 
 that fellow the Captain, and the horrible ill-breeding 
 of the Englifh in general ; declaring, fhe fhould make 
 her efcape with all expedition from fo dea/ily a 
 nation. But nothing can be more ftrangely abfurd, 
 than to hear politenefs recommended in language fo 
 repugnant to it as that of Madame Duval. 
 
 “She Jamented, very mournfully, the fate of her 
 Lyons filk ; and protefted fhe had rather have part- 
 ed with all the reft of her wardrobe, becaufe it was 
 
 the 
 
EVELINA. "3 
 
 the firft gown fhe had bought to wear upon leaving 
 off her weeds. She has a very bad cold, and Mon- 
 fieur Du Bois is fo hoarfe, he can hardly fpeak. 
 
 She infifted upon me ftaying with her all day 5 as 
 fhe intended, fhe faid, to introduce me to fome of 
 my own relations. 1 would very fain have excufed 
 myfelf, but fhe did not allow me any choice. 
 
 Till the arrival of thefe relations, one continued 
 feries of queftions on her fide, and of anfwers on 
 mine, filled up all the time we pafled together. 
 Her curiofity was infatiable ; fhe inquired into every 
 action of my life, and every particular that had 
 fallen under my obfervation in the lives of all I 
 knew. Again, fhe was fo crucl as to avow the moft 
 inveterate rancour again{t the fole benefaGor her 
 deferted child and grandchild have met with; and 
 fuch was the indignation her ingratitude raifed, that 
 J would actually have quitted her prefence and 
 houfe, had fhe not, in a manner the moft per- 
 emptory, abfolutely forbid me. But what, good 
 Heaven! can induce her to fuch fhocking injuftice ? 
 O, my friend and father! I have no command of 
 myfelf when this fubject is ftarted. 
 
 She talked very much of taking me to Paris, and 
 faid I greatly wanted the polith of a French edu- 
 cation. She lamented that I had been brought up 
 in the country, which, fhe obferved, had given me 
 a very bumpkinifh air. However, fhe bid me not 
 defpair ; for fhe had known many girls much worfe 
 than me, who had become very fine ladies after a 
 few years refidence abroad; and {he particularly 
 inftaneed a Mifs Polly Moore, daughter ofa chand- 
 ler's-fhop woman, who, by an accident not worth 
 relating, happened to be {ent to Paris, where, froin 
 an awkward ill-bred girl, fhe fo much improv- 
 ed, that fhe has fince been taken for a woman of 
 guality. 
 
 The relations to whom fhe was pleafed to intro- 
 duce me, confifted of a Mr, Branghton, who is her 
 
 VOL. f. Er nephew, 
 
mit EVELINA. 
 
 nephew, and three of his children, the eldeft of 
 which is a fon, and the two younger are daughters. 
 
 Mr. Branghton appears about forty years of age. 
 He does not feem to want a common underftanding, 
 though he is very contracted and prejudiced : he has 
 {pent his whole time in the city, and I believe feels 
 a great contempt for all who refide elfewhere. 
 
 His fon feems weaker in his underftanding, and 
 more gay in his temper ; but his gaiety is that ofa 
 foolifh, overgrown f{chool-boy, whofe mirth confifts 
 sn noife and difturbance. He difdains his father 
 for his clofe attention to bufinefs, and love of money; 
 though he feems himfelf to have no talents, fpirit, 
 or generofity, to make him fuperior to either. His 
 chief delight appears to be tormenting and ridi- 
 culing his fitters; who, in return, moft heartily 
 defpife him. 
 
 Mifs Branghton, the eldeft daughter, is by no 
 means ugly; but looks proud, ill-tempered, and 
 conceited. She hates the city, though without 
 knowing why ; for it is eafy to difcover fhe has 
 lived no where elfe. 
 
 Mifs Polly Branghton is rather pretty, very fool- 
 ifh, very ignorant, very giddy, and, I believe, very 
 good-natured. 
 
 The firft half-hour was allotted to making theme 
 felves comfortable; for they complained of having 
 had a very dirty walk, as they.came on foot from 
 Snow-Hill, whete Mr. Branghton keeps a filver- 
 fmith’s fhop; and the young ladies had not only 
 their coats to brufh, and fhoes to dry, but to adjuit 
 their head-drefs,. which their bonnets had totally 
 difcompofed. 
 
 The manner in which Madame Duval was pleafec 
 to introduce me to this family extremely fhocked 
 me. ‘‘ Here, my dears,” faid fhe, ‘* here’s a relation 
 you little thought of: but you muft know, my poor 
 daughter Caroline had this child after fhe run away 
 from me,—though I never knew nothing of it, not 
 J, for 
 
BVELINA, "3 
 
 I, for a long while after ; for they took care to keep 
 it a fecret from me, though the poor child has never 
 a friend in the world befides.” 
 
 «¢ Mifs feems very tender-hearted, aunt,” faid 
 Mifs Polly; ‘‘ and to be fure fhe’s not to blame 
 for her mama’s undutifulnefs, for fhe couldn’t 
 help it.” 
 
 «« Lord, no,” anfwered fhe, ‘* and I never took 
 no notice of it to her: for indeed, as to that, my 
 own poor daughter wasn’t fo much to blame as you 
 may think ; for fhe’d never have gone aftray, if it 
 had not been for that meddling old parfon I told 
 you of.” 
 
 «“Tf aunt pleafes,” faid young Mr. Branghton, 
 “¢ we'll talk o’ {umewhat elfe, for Mifs looks very 
 uneafy-like.” 
 
 The next fubje& that was chofen, was the age 
 of the three young Branghtons and myfelf. The 
 fon is twenty; the daught ers, upon hearing that I 
 was Yeventeen, faid that was juft the age of Mifs 
 Polly ; but their brother, after a long difpute, prov- 
 ed that fhe was two years older, to the gredt anger 
 of both fifters, who agreed that he was very il- 
 natured and fpiteful. 
 
 When this point was fettled, the queftion was 
 put, Which was talleft? We were de fired to 
 meafure, as the Branghtons were all of different 
 opinions. None ‘of them, however, difpe uted my 
 being the so ie in the company ; but, in reg gard to 
 one another, they were extremely quarrelfome : the 
 brother infilted upon their meafuring fair, and not 
 with heads and heels; but they w rould | by no means 
 confent to lofe thofe privileg ges of our fex'; and 
 therefore the young man was cz/?, as fhorteft ; thou; gh 
 he appealed to all prefent uj pon the injultice of the 
 decree. 
 
 This ceremony over, the young ladies began, 
 very freely, to examine my drefs, and to interrogate 
 me concerning it. ‘* This apron’s your own.w ork, 
 
 E 2 I fi ippef C5 
 
70 EVELINA. 
 
 I fuppofe, Mifs? but thefe fprigs a’n’t in fafhion 
 now. Pray, if it is not impertinent, what might 
 you give a “yard for this luteftring }—Do you make 
 your own caps, Mifs?—” and many other queftions 
 equa lly interefting and well-bred, 
 
 They then af fked me how I liked London? and 
 whether I fhould not think the country a very dull 
 place, when I returned thither? «¢ Mifs mult try 
 it the can’t get a good hufband,” faid } Vir. Brangh- 
 ton, “* and then the may ftay and live here.” 
 
 ‘The next topic was ‘public places, or rather the 
 theatres, for oe knew of no other; and the merits 
 and defeats of a | the actors and aétrefles were dif- 
 cuffed: the young man here took the lead, and 
 feemed to be very ehaverta nt on the fubjeét. But 
 during this time, what was my concern, and, fuffer 
 me to add, my indignation, when I found, by fome 
 words I occa ufionally heard, that Madame “Duval 
 was entertaining Mr. Branghton with all the molt 
 spores and cruel particulars of my fituation! The 
 eldeft daughter was foon drawn to them by the re- 
 cital 5 the youngeft and the fon {till kept their 
 pl aces; inte nding, I believe, to divert me, though 
 the convert ition was all their own. 
 
 In afew minutes, Mifs Branghton, coming fud- 
 denly up to her fitter, amined a Lord, Polly, 
 only think! Mifs never faw her papa!” 
 
 “Ld ord, how odd!” cried the other; ‘* why then, 
 Mifs, I fuy ppole you wouldn’t know him?” 
 
 This was quite too much for me; I rofe haf ftily, 
 and ran out of the room: but I foon regretted I had 
 fo litle command of myfelf; for the two filters both 
 followed, and infilted upon comforting me, not- 
 with{tanding my earneft intreaties to be left alone. 
 
 As foon as | re turged to the company, Madame 
 Duval faid, « Why, my dear, what was the matter 
 with yo tse why did you run away fo?” 
 
 Thi ieftion almoft made me run again, for I 
 knew not how to an{wer it, But, itis not very 
 , J 
 
 extra- 
 
EVELIN «. gh 
 
 extraordinary, that fhe can put me in fituations fo 
 fhocking, and then wonder to find me fenfible of 
 any concern? 
 
 Mr. Branghton junior now inquired of me, whe- 
 ther I had feen the Tow er, or St. Paul’s church? 
 and upon my an{wering in the negative, they pro- 
 pofed making a party to fhew them to me. Among 
 other queftions, they alfo afked, if I had ever feen 
 Such a thing as an opera ® I told them I had. 
 “ Well,” faid Mr. Branghton, «I never faw one 
 in my life, fo long as I've lived in London; and J 
 never defire to fee one, if I live here as much longer.” 
 
 «* Lord, papa,” cried Mifs Polly, « why not? 
 you might as well for once, for the curiofity of 
 the thing: befides, Mifs Pomfret faw one, and fhe 
 fays it was very pretty,” 
 
 “* Mifs will think us very vulgar,” faid Mifs 
 Branghton, “to live in London, and never have 
 been to an opera; but it’s no fault of mine, I af- 
 fure you, Mifs, only papa don’t like to go.” 
 
 The refult was, that a party was propofed, and 
 agreed to, for fome early Opportunity. J did not 
 dare contradi@ them; but [I faid that my time, 
 while I remained in town, was at the difpofal of 
 Mrs. Mirvan. However, I am fure F will not at- 
 tend them, if I can potlibly avoid fo doing, 
 
 When we parted, Madame Duval defired to fee 
 me the next day ; and the Branghtons told me, that 
 the firft time I went towards Snow-Hill, they fhould 
 be very glad if I would call upon them. ‘ 
 
 I with we may not meet again till that time ar- 
 rives. 
 
 I am fure I thall not be very ambitious of being 
 known to any more of my relations, if they have 
 any refemblance to thofe whofe acquaintance I haye 
 been introduced to already, 
 
LETTER XVII. 
 EveLina i Continuation. 
 
 L wap juft finifhed my lettersto you this 
 morning, when a violent rapping at the door made 
 me run down ftairs; and who fhould I fee in the 
 drawing-room, but— Lord Orville! 
 
 He was quite alone, for the family had not af- 
 fembled to breakfaft.. He inquired, firft of mine, 
 then of the health of Mrs, and Mifs Mirvan, with 
 a degree of concern that rather furprifed me, till he 
 {aid that he had juft been informed of the accident 
 we had met with at Ranelagh. He exprefied his 
 forrow upon the occafion with the utmoft politenefs, 
 and lamented that he had not been fo fortunate as 
 to hear of it in time to offer his fervices. ‘* But I 
 zhink,” he added, ‘¢ Sir Clement Willoughby had 
 the honour of affitting you % 
 
 «« He was with Captain Mirvan, my Lord.” 
 
 «« [had heard of his being of your party.” 
 
 I hope that flighty man has not been telling Lord 
 Orville he only affifted me! however, he did not 
 purfue the fubje@ ; but faid, ** This accident, tho’ 
 extremely- unfortunate, will not, I hope, be the 
 means of frightening you from gracing Ranelagh 
 with your prefence in future . 
 
 « Our time, my Lord, for London, is almoft 
 expired already.” 
 
 «« Indeed! do you leave town fo very foon ?” 
 
 «Oyes, my Lord, our ftay has already exceeded 
 our intentions.” 
 
 « Are you, then, fo particularly partial to the 
 country ?” 
 
 «« We merely came to town, my Lord, to mect 
 Captain Mirvan.” 
 
 « And does Mifs Anville feel no concern at the 
 
 idea 
 
EVELINA. i!) 
 
 idea of the many mourners her abfence will occa- 
 fion ?’ 
 
 <©O my Lord, eo! m. fure you don’t think—” I 
 ftopt there ; Ss indeed, I hardly knew what I was 
 
 going to fa My foolifh embarraflment, I fup- 
 pofe , was ra caufe of what followed ; for he came 
 to mie, and took my hand, faying, « 1 do think, that 
 whoever has once feen Mifs Anville » mutt receive 
 an impreflion never to be forgotten.” 
 
 This compliment,—from Lord Orville,—fo' fur- 
 prifed me, that I could not fpeak ; but felt myfelf 
 change colour, and {tood for fome moments filent, 
 and lookin g down: however, the inftant I recolle@- 
 ed my fituation, I withdrew my hand, and told him 
 that I would fee if Mrs. Mirvan was not drefied. 
 He did not oppofe me—fo away I went. 
 
 [ met them all on the ftairs, and returned with 
 them to breakfaft. 
 
 I have fince been extremely angry with myfelf 
 for negle¢ Sing fo éxdatle nt an opportunity of apo- 
 logizing for my behaviour at the ridotto: but, to 
 own the truth, that affair never once oc curred, to 
 me during the fhort téte-d-#é/e which we had toge- 
 ther. But, if ever we fhould hz appen to be fo fituat- 
 ed again, I will certainly mention it; for I am in- 
 expreffibly concerned at the thor ught of “his harbouring 
 an opinion that I am bold or impertinent, and [ 
 could almoft kill myfelf for having given him the 
 fhadow of a reafon for fo fhoc king an idea. 
 
 But was it not very odd that he fhould make me 
 fuch a compliment? I expected it not from hin ; 
 —but gallantry, I believe, is common to all ata 
 whatever other qualities the >y may have in par- 
 ticular. 
 
 Our breakfaft was the moft agreeable meal, if it 
 may be called a meal, that we have had fince we 
 came to town. Indeed, but for Madame Duval, 
 I fhould like London extremely 
 
as 
 Hr a 
 
 80 EVELINA. 
 The converfation of Lord Orville is really delight- 
 
 ful. His manners are fo elegant, -fo gentle, fo un-- 
 
 alfuming, that they at once engage eiteem, and 
 diffufe ‘complacence. Far from being indolently 
 fatisied with his own accomplifhments, as I have 
 already obferved many men here are, though with- 
 out any pretenfions to his merit, he is molt affi- 
 duoufly attentive to pleafe and to ferve all who are 
 in his company ; and, though his fuccefsS is inva- 
 riable, he never nranifefts the finalleft degree of con- 
 icsoyinee 
 
 I could with that you, my deareft Sir, knew Lord 
 Orville, becaufe I am fure you would love him ; 
 and IJ have felt that wifh for no other perfon I have 
 feen fince IT came to London. I fometimes imagine, 
 that, when his youth is flown, his vivacity abated, 
 and his life is devoted to retirement, he will, per- 
 haps, refemble him whom I moft love and honour, 
 His preftnt fweetnefs, politenefs, and diffidence, 
 fvem.to promife in future the fame benevolence, 
 dignity and goodnefs, 
 upon this fubje ct. 
 
 When Lord Orville was gone,—and he made but 
 
 a very fhort vifit,—I was preparing, mo{t reluétant- 
 ly, to wait upon Madame Duval; but Mrs. Mir- 
 van propofed to the Captain, that {he fhould be in- 
 vited to one in Queen-Ann-{treet ; and he readily 
 confented, he faid he wifhed to afk after her 
 ie yons n egli; JCe. 
 
 The invitation is accepted, and we expect her 
 every moment. But to me, it is very ftrange, that 
 a woman, who is the uncontrolled miftrefs of her 
 time, fortune, and aétions, fhould choofe to expofe 
 herfelf voluntarily to the rudenefs of a man who is 
 openly determined to make her his fport. But fhe 
 has very few acquaintance ; and, I fancy, fcarce 
 knows how to employ herfelf. : 
 
 How great is my obligation to Mrs. Mirvan, for 
 beftowing her time ina manner fo difagreeable to 
 
 herfelf, 
 
 But I. muft not expatiate 
 
EVELINA. Sr 
 
 herfelf, merely to promote my happinefs! Every 
 difpute in which her undeferving hufband engages, 
 is productive of pain and uneafinefs to herfelf; of 
 this Iam fo fenfible, that I even befought her not 
 to fend to Madame Duval; but the declared fhe 
 could not bear to have me pafs all my time, while 
 in town, with her only. Indeed fhe could not be 
 more kind to me, were fhe your daughter, 
 
 ne - -- - 
 LET TBR XE. 
 
 Evevina in Continuation. 
 
 Saturday morning, April 16. 
 
 Mapvamer Duval was accompanied by Mon- 
 fieur Du Bois. I am furprifed that fhe fhould 
 choofe to introduce him where he is fo unwelcome: 
 and, indeed, it is {trange that they fhouid be fo con- 
 {tantly together ; though I believe I fhould not have 
 taken notice of it, but that Captain Mirvan is per- 
 petually rallying me upon my grand-mama’s beau. 
 
 They were both received by Mrs. Mirvan with 
 her ufual good-breeding ; but the Captain, moft pro- 
 vokingly, attacked her immediately, faying, ** Now, 
 Madam, you that have lived abroad, pleafe to tell 
 me this here ; Which did you like beft, the warm 
 room at Ranelagh, or the cold bath you went into 
 afterwards? though, I affure you, you look fo well, 
 that I fhould advife you to take another dip.” 
 
 “* Ma foi, Sir,” cried fhe, « nobody. afked for 
 your advice, fo you may as well keep -it-to yourfelf : 
 befides, it’s no fuch great joke, to be fplafhed, and to 
 catch cold, and fpoil all one’s things, whatever you 
 may think of it.” 
 
 “« Splafbed, quoth-a!—why. I thought you were 
 foufed all over.—Come, come, don’t mince the 
 matter, never fpoil a good ftory; you know you 
 
 hadn’t 
 
$2 EVELINA. 
 
 hadn’t a dry thrgad about you—’Fore George, I 
 fhall never think on’t without hallooing! “fucha 
 poor, forlorn, draggletailed—gentlewoman! and 
 poor Afonfeer French, here, like a drowned rat, by 
 your fide!—” 
 
 ‘* Well, the worfe pickle we was in, fo much the 
 worfer in you not to help us; for you knowed where 
 we were iaft enough, becaufe, while I laid in the 
 mud, I’m pretty fure I heard you fnigger:’ fo it’s 
 like enough you joftled us down yourfelf; for Mon- 
 ficur Du Bois fays, that he is fure he had a great jolt 
 given him, or he fhouldn’t have fell.” 
 
 The Captain laughed fo immoderately, that he 
 really gave me alfo a fufpicion that he was not en- 
 tirely innocent of the charge: however, he difclaimed 
 it very peremptorily. 
 
 «¢ Why then,” continued fhe, *« if you didn’t do 
 that, why didn’t you come to help us?” 
 
 «Who, I '—what, do you fuppofe I had forgot 
 i was an Englifhman, a filthy, bealtly Luglifhman ?” 
 
 ‘¢ Very well, Sir, very well; but [ was a fool 
 to expect any better, for it’s all.of a piece with the 
 reft; you know, you wanted to fling me out of the 
 coach-window, the very firft time ever I fee you: 
 but I'll never go to Ranelagh with you no more, 
 that I’m refolved; for I dare fay, if the horfes had 
 runn’d over me, as I Jaid in that naftinefs, you'd 
 never have ftirred a {tep to fave me.” 
 
 *« Lord, no, to be fure, Ma’am, not for the world! 
 I know your opinion of our nation too well, to af- 
 front you by fuppofing a Frenchman would want my 
 afliftance to protect you. Did you think that Aon. 
 feer here and I had changed charaéters, and that he 
 ihould pop you into the mud, and I help you out of 
 it? -Ha, ha, ha!’ 
 
 «© © very well, Sir, laugh on, it’s like your man= 
 ners; however, if poor Monfieur Du Bois hadn't 
 met with that unlucky accident himfelf, I fhouldn’t 
 have wanted nobody’s help.” 
 
 “ 0; 
 
EVELINA. 83 
 
 «©, I promife you, Madam, you'd never have 
 had mine; I knew my diftance better: and. as to 
 your being a little ducked, -or fo, why, to be fure, 
 Menfeer and you fettled that between yourfelves ; fo 
 it-was no buiinefs of mine.” 
 
 «* What, then, I fuppofe you want to make me 
 believe, ‘as Monfieur Du Bois ferved me that trick 
 o’ purpofe ¢” 
 
 «« ©’ purpofe! ay, certainly; who ever doubted 
 that? Do you think a Frenchman ever made a 
 blunder? If he had been fome clumfy-footed Englifh 
 fellow, indeed, it might have been accidental: but 
 what the devil fignifies all your hopping and caper- 
 ing with your dancing-matters, if you can’t balance 
 yourfelves upright?” 
 
 In the midi of this dialogue, Sir Clement Wil- 
 loughby made his appearance. He affects to enter 
 the houfe with the freedom of an old acquaintance 5 
 and this very eafine/s, which, to me, is a{tonifhing, 
 is what moft particularly recommends him to the 
 Captain. Indeed, he feems very fuccefsfully to 
 ftudy all the humours of that gentleman. 
 
 After having heartily welcomed him, You are 
 juft come in time, my boy,” faid he, ‘to fettle a 
 little matter of a difpute between this here gentle- 
 woman and [ ; do you know fhe has been trying to 
 perfuade me, that {he did not above half like the 
 ducking Mon/feer gave her t’other night.” 
 
 «« | fhould have hoped,” (faid Sir Clement with 
 the utmoft gravity) “that the friendthip fubfilting 
 between that lady and gentleman, would have guard- 
 ed them againft any actions profeffedly difagreeable 
 to each other: but, probably, they might not have 
 difcuifed the matter previoully; in which cafe the 
 gentleman, I muft own, feems to have been guilty 
 of inattention, fince, in my humble opinion, it was 
 his bufinefs firft to have inquired whether the lady 
 preferred foft or hard ground, before he dropt her.” 
 
 ee) 
 
84 i EVELINA. 
 
 “ O very fine, Gentlemen, very fine,” cried Mae 
 dame Duval, ‘you may try to fet us together b 
 the ears as ee as you will ; but I’m not fuch an 
 ignorant perfon as to be mi: dea fool of fo eafily; 
 
 fo you nzedn ‘t talk no more about it, for I fees into 
 ; 
 your d 
 
 Monfieur De Boi iS, who was juft able to difcover 
 the fubject upon which the converfation turned, 
 made-his-defence, in French, with ereat folemnity : 
 he hoped | 
 
 ie faid, that the company would at leaft 
 acknowledge, he did not come from a nation of 
 brutes; and confequently, that to wil full y offend any 
 dady, was 
 
 , to him, utterly impoflible ; but thet on 
 the contrary, in endeavourit ig, as . a his duty, to 
 fave and cuard her, he had himfelf fuffe red, in a 
 anner which he would forbear to re aby but which, 
 he irahaeh appre bead it he fhould feel the ill effe@s 
 of ior i 
 
 y months: and then, with a countenance 
 excced} ing ely leng ea Hee d, he add ed, that he | 1Ope od. it 
 would not be attril uted to him as national prejudic Ce, 
 when he owned that he mut, to the beft of his me- 
 mory, aver, that his unfortunate fall was owing to 
 a fudden but violent puth,- which, he was ghocked 
 fay, fome malevolent perfon, with a defign to 
 his injury, muft certainly have given him; but 
 whether with a ‘view to mortify him by making 
 him let the lady fall, or whether merely to fpoil his 
 clothes, he‘could not pretend to determis >, 
 
 This difputation was, at laft, conclud led by Mrs. 
 
 Mirvan’'s propoling that we fhould all go to Cox’s 
 Mi feum. Nobody objected, and carri ages were 
 immediately ordered, 
 
 In, our way down [ftairs, Madame Duval, in a 
 very paffionate manner, faid, «* AZq foi, if I would 
 n't give fifty guineas only to know who gave us that 
 thove ! \” 
 
 This Mufeum is very aftonifhing, and very fu- 
 perb ; yet it afforded me but little pleafure, for it is 
 a mere fhow, though a wonderful one. 
 
 n 
 
 Si 
 
 ir 
 
EVELINA, b & 
 
 Sir Clement Willoughby, in our walk round the 
 room, afked me what My Opinion was of this bril- 
 liant /pefacle ! 
 
 “Tris very fine and very ingenious,” anfwered I = 
 “« and yet—I don’t know how it isy—but I feem to 
 mifs fomething.” 
 
  Excellently anfwered !” cried he; «you have 
 exactly defined my own feelings, though in a man- 
 ner I thould never have arrived at. But L was cere 
 tain your taite was too well formed, to: be pleafed at 
 the expence of your underftanding.” 
 
 “« Pardi,” cried Madame Duval, «I hope you 
 two is difficult enough! I’m fure if you don’t like 
 this, you like nothing ; for it’s the grande(t, pret- 
 tieft, fineft fight that ever. I fee in England.” 
 
 “© What,” (cried the Captain with a fneer) «J 
 fuppofe this may be in your French tafte? it’s like 
 enough, for it’s all kick/haw work. But, pr’ythee, 
 friend,” (turning to the perfon who explained the 
 devices), ‘ will you tell me the ufe of allthis? for 
 
 / 
 
 I’m not enough of a conjurer to find it out,” 
 
 “* Ufe; indeed!” (repeated Madame Duval ‘dif. 
 dainfully) ; ord. tf every thing’s to be ufe- 
 (09 
 
 “« Why, Sir, as to that, Sir,” faid our conductor, 
 “« the ingenuity of the mechanifm,—the beauty of 
 the workmanthip,—the—undoubtedly, Sir, any 
 perfon of tafte may eafily difcern the utility of fuch 
 extraordinary performances,” 
 
 “s Why then, Sir,” anfwered the Captain, ‘fyour 
 perfon of tafte muft be either a coxcomb, or a French- 
 man ; though for the matter of that, ’tis the fame 
 thing.” 
 
 Juft then our attention was attracted by a pine- 
 apple; which, fuddenly opening, difcovered a neft of 
 birds, who immediately began to fing. _«* Well,” 
 cried Madame Duval, « this is prettier than all the 
 the reft! I declare, in all my travels I never fee no- 
 thing eleganter,” 
 
 “ Hark 
 
é 
 86 EVELINA. 
 
 « Hark ye, friend,” faid the Captain, ‘haft 
 never another pine-apple?” 
 
 é¢ Sir i——"" 
 
 «« Beeaufe, if thou haft, pr’ythee give it us with- 
 out the birds; -for, d’ye fee, I’m no Frenchman), 
 and fhould relifh fomething more fubftantial.” 
 
 This entertainment concluded with a concert of 
 mechanical mufic: I cannot explain how it was 
 produced, but the effect was pleating. Madame 
 Duval was in ecftafies; and the Captain flung him- 
 {elf into fo many ridiculous diftortions, by way of 
 mimicking her, that he engaged the attention of all 
 the company ; and in the midit of the performance 
 of the Coronation Anthem, while Madame Duval 
 was affe@ting to beat time, and uttering many €X- 
 preflions of delight, he called fuddenly for falts, 
 which a lady, apprehending fome diftrefs, politely 
 handed to him, and which, inftantly applying to 
 the noftrils of poor Madame Duval, fhe involun- 
 tarily fnuffed up fuch a quantity, that the pain and 
 furprife made her {cream aloud. When fhe re- 
 covered, fhe reproached him with her ufual vehe- 
 mence ;_ but he protefted he had taken that meafure 
 out of pure friendfhip, as he concluded, from her 
 raptures, that fhe was going into hyfterics. This 
 excule by no means appeafed her, and they. had a 
 violent quarrel ; ‘but the only effe@t her anger had 
 on the Captain, was to increafe his diverfion. In- 
 deed, he Jaughs and talks fo terribly loud in public, 
 that he frequently makes us afhamed of belonging 
 to him. 
 
 Madame Duval, mnotwithftanding her wrath, 
 made no fcruple of returning to dine in Queen-Ann- 
 Street. Mrs. Mirvan had fecured places for the play 
 at Drury-Lane Theatre, and, though ever uneafly 
 in her company, fhe very politely invited Madame 
 Daval to be of our party,; however, the had a bad 
 cold, and chofe to nurfe it. 1 was forry for her in- 
 difpofition ; but I knew not how to be forry fhe did 
 
 not 
 
EVELINA. 87 
 
 fot accompany us, for fhe is—I muft not fay what, 
 but very unlike other people. 
 
 ae 
 
 LET TER: XX, 
 Evevina in Continuatione 
 
 Our places were in the front row of a fide- 
 box. Sir Clement Willoughby, who knew our in- 
 tention, was at the door of the theatre, and handed 
 us from the carriage. 
 
 We had not been feated five minutes before Lord 
 Orville, who we faw in the {tage-box, came to 
 us; and he honoured us with his company all the 
 evening. Mifs Mirvan and I both rejoiced that 
 Madame Duval was abfent, as we hoped for the 
 enjoyment of ,fome converfation, uninterrupted by 
 her quarrels with the Captain: but I foon found 
 that her prefence would have made very little al- 
 teration ; for fo far was I from daring to {peak, 
 that I knew not where even to look. 
 
 The play was Love for Love; and though it is 
 
 . fraught with wit and entertainment, I hope [I fhall 
 never fee it reprefented again ; for it is fo extremely 
 indelicate,—to ufe the fofteft word I can,—that 
 Mifs Mirvan and I were perpetually out of coun- 
 tenance, and could neither make any obfervations 
 ourfelves, nor venture to liften to thofe of others, 
 This was the more provoking, as Lord Orville was 
 in excellent fpirits, and exceedingly entertaining. 
 
 When the play was over, I flattered myfelf I 
 fhould be able to look about me with lefs re{traint, 
 as we intended to [tay the farce; but the curtain had 
 hardly dropped, when the box-door opened, and in 
 came Mr. Lovel, the man by whofe foppery and 
 impertinence I. was fo much teafed at the ball 
 where I firft faw Lord Orville. 
 
 I turned 
 
88 EVELINA, 
 
 TI turned away my head, and’ began talking to 
 Mifs Mirvan ; ; for I was defirous to avoid fpeaking 
 to him,—but in vain; for, as foon as he had made 
 his compliments to: Lord Orville and Sir Clement 
 Willoughby, who eran "pisos very coldly, he 
 bent his head for ward, and faid to me, ‘I ‘hope, 
 Ma’am, you have enjoyed your | health fince I had the 
 honour—I be ¢ ten thoufand pardons, but I pro- 
 te(t, I was going to fay the honour of dancing with 
 you—however, I mean the honour of feeing you 
 dance!” 
 
 He fpoke with a felf. sabre, ope ency that convinced 
 me he had {tudied this addrefs, by way of making 
 reprifals for my conduct at Me ball; I thetéfore 
 bowed flightly, but made no anfwer. 
 
 After a fhort filence, he again called my attention, 
 by faying, in an eafy, negli igent way, «¢T think, 
 Ma’am, you was never in town before ?’ 
 
 ‘¢ No, Sir.” 
 
 “So I did prefume. Doubtlefs, Ma’am, every 
 thing mutt be infinitely novel to you. Ourcuftoms, 
 our manners, and Jes é¢iquettes de nous autres, can 
 have very little refemblance to thofe you have been 
 ufed to. I imagine, Ma'am, your retirement is at 
 no very {mall diftance from the capital ?” 
 
 I was fo much difconcerted at this {neering fpeech, 
 that I faid. not a word; though I have fince thought 
 my vexation both ftimulated and delighted him. 
 
 «<The air we breathe here, however, Ma’am,” 
 (continued he, very conceitedly) «« though foreign 
 to that you have been accuftomed to, has not, I 
 hope, been at variance with your health ?? 
 
 “Mr. Lovel,” faid Lord Orville, “could not 
 your eye have {pared that queftion ?” 
 
 «©@, my Lord,” anfwered he, “ if Aealth were 
 the only caufe of a lady’s bloom, my eye, I grant, 
 had been infallible from the firft glance; but— 
 
 ‘« Come,. come,” cried: Mrs. Mirvan, «T muft 
 beg no infinuations of that fort: Mifs Anville’s 
 colour, 
 
EVELINA, $9 
 
 colour, as you have fuccefsfully tried, may, you 
 fee, be heightened ;—but, I affure you, it would 
 be patt your “tkill to leffen ita. 
 
 « 'Pon honour, Madam,” returned he, “ you 
 wrong me ; I prefumed not to infer that rouge was 
 the only fuccedaneum for health; but really I 
 have known fo many different caufes for a lady’s 
 colour, fuch as fluthing,—anger,—maue aife honte, 
 —and fo fi orth, that I never dare decide to whic h 
 it may be owing.’ 
 
 “ As to fuch caufes as them there,” cried the 
 Captain, ‘* they muft belong’ to thofe that they 
 keep company with.” 
 
 «* Verytrue, Captain,” faid Sir Clement; ‘* the 
 natural complexion has nothing to do with occa- 
 Sonal fallies of the paflions, or any accidental 
 caufes.” } 
 
 ‘* No, truly,” returned the Captain: ‘ for now 
 here’s me, why I look like any other man juft now 
 and yet, if you were to put me ina pailion, ‘fore 
 George, you’d foon fee me have as fine a high 
 colour as dny painted Jezabel in all this place, be 
 fhe never fo bedaubed.’ 
 
 « But,” faid Lord Orville, «* the difference of 
 natural and of artificial colour feems to me very 
 eafily difcerned; that of nature is mottled, and va- 
 hn I that of art fer, and foo fmooth 5 it wants 
 that animation, that glow, that 1idef{ ‘ribable fome- 
 thing which, even now that I fee it, wholly fur- 
 paties all my powers of expreflion.” 
 
 “© Your Lordthip,’’ faid Sir-Clement, ‘ is uni- 
 verfally acknowledged tu be a-connoi eur in beau- 
 Te 
 
 And you, Sir Clement,” returned he, “ an 
 enthufiapt” 
 «« T am proud to own it,” cried Sir Clement ; 
 ‘in fuch a canfe, and before fuch objeéts, en- 
 thufiafm is fimply the confequence of not being 
 
 blind,’ 
 Pr’ythee, 
 
6o EVELINA, 
 
 «« Pr’ythee, a truce with all this palavering,” 
 cried the Captain: ‘* the women are vain enough 
 already ; no need for to puff ’em up more.” 
 
 «« We mutt all fubmit to the commanding offi- 
 cet,” faid Sir Clement: ‘* therefore Jet us call 
 another fubje&. Pray, Ladies, how have you been 
 entertained with the play ?” 
 
 « Want of entertainment,” faid Mrs. Mirvan, 
 ‘© is its leaft fault; but I own there are objections 
 to it, which I fhould be glad to fee removed.” 
 
 «* T could have ventured to anfwer for the Ladies,” 
 faid Lord Orville, ‘* fince I am fure this is not a 
 play that can be honoured with their approba- 
 tion.” 
 
 «« What, I fuppofe it is not fentimental enough !” 
 cried the captain, ‘ or elfe it is too good for them; 
 for I'll maintain it’s one of the beft comedies in 
 the language, and has more wit in one fcene than 
 there isin all the new plays put together.” 
 
 «© For my part,” faid Mr. Lovel, ‘ I confefs I 
 feldom liften to the players: one has fo much to 
 do, in looking about and finding out one’s ac- 
 quaintance, that really one has no time to mind 
 the ftage.. Pray,”—(moft affectedly fixing his eyes 
 upon a diamond ring on his little finger), “ pray, 
 -—what was the play to-night ?” 
 
 «Why, what the D—1,” cried the Captain, 
 «« do you come to the play without knowing what 
 it is ?”’ 
 
 ““O yes, Sir, yes, very frequently: I have no 
 ‘time to read play-bills; one merely comes to meet 
 one’s friends, and fhew that one’s alive.” 
 
 *« Ha, ha, ha !—and fo,” cried the Captain, ‘* it 
 cofts you five fhillings a-night juft to thew you're 
 alive! Well, faith, my friends fhould all think me 
 dead and under ground before I’d be at that ex- 
 pence for ’em. Howfomever,: this here you may 
 take from me,—they’il find you out faft enough 
 if you have any thing to give ’em.—And fo you've 
 
 been 
 
EVELINA. or 
 
 been here all this time, and don’t know what the 
 play was ?”’ 
 
 «© Why, really, Sir, a play requires fo much at- 
 tention,—it is fcarce poflible to keep awake if one 
 liftens ;—for, indeed, by the time it is evening, 
 one has been fo fatigued with dining,—or wine,— 
 or the houfe,—or fludying,—that it is—it is perfect- 
 ly an impoffibility. But, now I think of it, I be- 
 lieve I have a bill in my pocket; O, ay, here it is 
 —Love for Love, ay,—true,—ha, ha!—how could 
 I be fo ftupid!” 
 
 ‘« O, eafily enough, as to that, I warrant you,” 
 faid the Captain; ‘ but, by my foul, this is one 
 of the beft jokes I ever heard !—Come to a play, 
 and not know what it is!—Why, I fuppofe you 
 wouldn’t have found it out, if they had fob'd you 
 off with a fcraping of fiddlers, or an opera ?—Ha, 
 ha, ha!—Why now, I fhould have thought you 
 might have taken fome notice of one Mr. Tattle 
 that is in this play !” 
 
 This farcafm, which caufed a general finile, 
 made him colour: but turning to the Captain 
 with a look of conceit, which implied that he had 
 a retort ready, he faid, « Pray, Sir, give me leave 
 toafk—What do you think of one Mr. Ben, who is 
 alfo in this play ©” 
 
 The Captain, regarding him with the utmoft 
 contempt, .anfwered in a loud voice, *“ Think of 
 him!—why, I think he’s a man!” And then, fta- 
 ring full in his face, he {truck his cane on the 
 ground with a violence that made him ftart. He 
 did not, however, choofe to take any notice of 
 this: but, having bit his nails fome time in ma- 
 nife(t confufion, he turned very quick to me, and 
 in a fneering tone of voice, faid, “ For my part, I 
 was mott {truck with the country young lady, Mifs 
 Prue; pray what do you think of her, Ma’am?” 
 
 «© Indeed, 
 
EVELINA. 
 
 «« Indeed, Sir,” cried I, very much provohed, 
 I think—that is, 1 do not think any thing about 
 = 
 
 « Well, really, Ma’am, you prodigioufly fur- 
 prife me!—mais, apparemment ce nef? qu'un fagon 
 de parler ?—though I fhould beg your pardon, for 
 probably you do not under{tand French ?” 
 
 I made no anfwer, for I thought his rudenefs 
 intolerable ; but Sir Clement with great warmth 
 faid, “ J am furprifed that you can fuppofe fuch 
 an object as Mifs Prue would engage the attention 
 of Milfs Anville even fora moment.” 
 
 «<Q, Sir, returned this fop, < ’tis the firft cha- 
 racter in the piece!—fo well drawn !—fo much 
 the thing !—fuch true country-breeding ! fuch rural 
 ignorance !—ha, ha, ha!—’tis moft admirably hit 
 off, *pon honour!” 
 
 I could almoft have cried, that fuch imperti- 
 nence fhould be levelled at me ; and yet, chagrined 
 as I was, I could never behold Lord Orville and 
 this man at the fame time, and feel any regret for 
 the caufe I had given of difpleafure. 
 
 ‘© The only female in the play,” faid Lord Or- 
 ville, « worthy of being mentioned to thefe ladies, 
 is Angelica.” 
 
 «© Angelica,” cried Sir Clement, “ is a noble 
 girl; the tries her lover feverely, but the rewards 
 him generoufly,”’ 
 
 “ Yet, in a trial fo long,” faid Mrs. Mirvyan, 
 “« there feems rather too much con{cioufnefs of 
 her power.” 
 
 “ Since my Opinion has the fan&tion of Mrs. 
 Mirvan’s,” added Lord Orville, “© E will venture 
 to fay, that Angelica beftows her hand rather with 
 the air of a benefaétrefs, than with. the tendernefs 
 of a miftrefs. Generofity without delicacy, like 
 wit without judgment, generally gives as much 
 pain as pleafure. The uncertainty in which the 
 keeps Valentine, and her manner of trifling with 
 
 his 
 
 «e 
 
EVE LT INAS 93 
 his temper, give no very favourable idea of her 
 own.” 
 
 «« Well, my Lord,” faid Mr. Lovel, ‘* it muft, 
 however, be owned, that uncertainty is not the tox 
 among our ladies at prefent ; nay, indeed, I think 
 they fay,—though, faith,” taking a pinch of fnuff, 
 ‘« T hope it is not true—but they fay, that we now 
 are moit fhy and backward,” 
 
 The curtain then drew up, and our converfa- 
 tion ceafed, Mr. Lovel, finding we chofe to at- 
 tend to the players, left the box. How {trange 
 it is, Sir, that this man, not contented with the 
 large fhare of foppery and nonfenfe which he has 
 from nature, fhould think proper to affect yet’ 
 more! for what he faid of Tatile and of Mifs Prue, 
 convinced me that he really had liftened to the 
 play, though he was fo ridiculous and foolith as 
 to pretend ignorance. 
 
 But how malicious and impertinent is this crea- 
 ture to talk to mein fuch a manner! J am fure I 
 hope I fhall neéver fee him again. I fhould have 
 defpifed him heartily as a fop, had he never fpoken 
 to me at all; but now, that he thinks proper to 
 refent his fuppofed illkufage, I am really quite afraid 
 of him, . 
 
 The entertainment was, The Douce is in Him : 
 which Lord Orville obferved to be the moft tinifh- 
 ed and elegant pefite piece that was ever written 
 im Englith. 
 
 In our way home, Mrs. Mirvan put me into fome 
 contternation by faying, it was evident, from the 
 refentment which this Mr. Lovel harbours of my 
 conduct, that he would think it a provocation fuf- 
 ficiently important for a duel, if his courage 
 equalled his wrath. 
 
 I am terrified at the very idea. Good Heaven! 
 that a man fo weak and frivolous fhould be fo re~ 
 vengeful! However, if bravery would have ex- 
 cited him to affront Lord Orville, how much rea- 
 
 fon 
 
EVELINA. 
 
 94 
 fon have I to rejoice that cow ardice makes him 
 contented with venting his fpleen upon me ! But 
 we fhall leave town foon, ‘and; I hope, fee him 
 no more. 
 
 It was fome confolation to me to hear from Mifs 
 
 Mirvan, that, while he was {peaking to me fo 
 cavalierly, Lord Orville reg: arded him with great 
 indignation. 
 
 But really, I think, there. ou ight to be a book 
 of the laws and cuftoms d-Ja-mede, prefented to all 
 young people upon their firft introdu€tion into 
 publ ic company. 
 
 To-night we go to the ier where I expe& 
 very great pleafure. We fhall have the fame party 
 as at the play ; for Lord Orville faid he fhould be 
 
 there, and would look for us. 
 
 LE stb kas 
 EVELINA tn Continuation. 
 
 T wave a volume to write of the adventures 
 of yelterday. ‘ 
 in the afternoon,—at Berry Hill, I thould have 
 faid the evening, for it was almoft fix o’clock,— 
 while Mifs Mirvan and I were drefling for the 
 opera, and in high fpirits from the expectation 
 of great entertainment and { pleafure, we heard a 
 carriage ftop at the door, a concluded that Sir 
 Clement Willoughby, with his ufual afliduity, was 
 come to attend us to the Haymarket ; but, ina 
 few. moments, what was our furprife, to fee our 
 chamber-door flung open, and the two Mifs Brangh- 
 tons enter the room! They advanced to me with 
 great familiarity, faying, ‘* How do youdo, Cou- 
 fin ?—fo we've c aah you at the glafs!—well, Pim 
 determined I'll tell my brother of that!” 
 
 Mils 
 
EVELINA. - 65 
 
 Mifs Mirvan, who had never before feen them, 
 and could not at firft imagine who they were, 
 looked fo much aftonifhed, that I was ready to 
 laugh myfelf, tll the eldeft faid, ‘* We're come 
 to take you to the opera, Mifs; papa and my bro- 
 ther are below, and we are to call for your grand- 
 mamma as we go along.” 
 
 «« Tam very forty,” an{wered I, “ that you fhould 
 have taken fo much trouble, as I am engaged al- 
 ready.” 
 
 «© Engaged! Lord, Mifs, never mind. that,” 
 cried the ee ae « this young lady will make 
 your excufes, I dare fay; it’s only doing as one 
 wo nuld be done by, you know.” 
 
 * Indeed, Ma’am,” faid Mifs Mirvan, « I fhall 
 a a very forry to be cea of Mifs An- 
 ville’s company this evening.’ 
 
 “e We Il, Mifs, that is not £ very good-natured in 
 you,” faid Mifs Branghton, « confidering we only 
 come to give our coufin pleafure; it’s no good to 
 us ; it’s all upon her account; for we came, I don’t 
 know how much, round about to take her up.” 
 
 «« T amextremely obliged to you,” faid I, « and 
 very forry you have lolt fo much time; Bais I can- 
 not poflibly help it, for I engaged myfelf without 
 knowing you would call.” 
 
 66 Lord, what fignifies that?” faid Mifs Polly, 
 “* you're no old maid, and fo you needn’t be fo 
 very formal: befides, I dare fay thofe yon are 
 engaged to a’n’t half fo near related to you as we 
 ares” 
 
 “I muft beg you not to prefs me any further, 
 for I afiure you it is not in my power to attend 
 you.” 
 
 ‘« Why, we came all out of the city on purpofe: 
 befides, your grand-mama vexpects you ;—and pray, 
 what are we to fay to her 
 
 ‘© Tell her, if you ay that I am much con- 
 cerned,—but that I am pre-engaged.” 
 
 ae And 
 
 >. 
 
96 EVELINA. 
 And who to:’’ demanded the abrupt Mifs 
 Branghton. 
 «© Po.Mrs. Mirvan,—and a large party. 
 And, pray; w hat are you all going to do, that 
 it would be fuch a mighty matter for you to come 
 along with us?” 
 © We are all going ne opera.” 
 ©) dear, if that = all , why can’t we go all to- 
 ge ther 
 I was extremely difconcerted at this forward 
 hes ignorant be ehaviour, and yet their rudenefs 
 very much leffened my concern at refifing them. 
 Indeed , their drefs was fuch as would have ren- 
 dered their fcheme of accompanying our party im- 
 practicable, even if I had defired it; and this, as 
 they did not themfelves find out, I was obliged, 
 in terms the leaft mortifying I could think of, to 
 tell them. 
 They were very much chagrined, and afked 
 where I fhould fit? 
 
 27 
 
 ‘* In the pit,” anfwered I. 
 ‘In the pit!” repeated Mifs Brang zhton ; “« well, 
 really, I muft own, I fhould never have fuppofed 
 
 that my gown was not good enough for the pit: 
 
 but come, Polly, let’s go; if Mifs does not think 
 
 fine enough for her, why to be fure the may 
 100fe.” 
 
 Surprifed at _this ignorance, I would have ex- 
 plained to them, that the pit at the opera required 
 the fame drefs as the boxes; but they were fo 
 much afironted, they would not hear me; and, 
 in great difpleafure, left the ae ying, they 
 
 ould not hanes troubled only fea thought I 
 ad d not be fo proud with my own re lations, and 
 that they had at leaft as good a right to my com- 
 pany as ftrangers. 
 
 I endeavoured to apologize, and would have 
 fent a long meilage to Madame Duval: but “they 
 hafiene af vay without hitening to me; and | 
 
 could 
 
EV £ BIN As 97 
 
 could not follow them down ftairs, becaufe I was 
 not dreffed. The laft words I heard them fay, were, 
 “* Well, her grand-mama will be in a fine paffion, 
 that’s one good thing.” 
 
 Though I was extremely mad at this vifit, yet I 
 fo heartily rejoiced at their going, that I would not 
 fuffer myfelf to think gravely about it. : 
 
 Soon after, Sir Clement actually came, and we 
 all went down ftairs. Mrs. Mirvan ordered tea; 
 and we were engaged in a very lively converfation, 
 when the fervant ‘announced Madame Duval, who 
 inftantly followed him into the room. 
 
 Her face was the colour of {carlet, and her eyes 
 fparkled with fury. She came up to me with a hafty 
 ftep, faying, «« So, Mifs, you refufes to come ta 
 me, do you? And pray, who are you, to dare to 
 difobey me?” 
 
 I was quite frightened ;—I made no anfwer — 
 _ 1 even attempted to rife, and could not, but fat {till, 
 
 mute and motionlefs. 
 
 Every body but Mifs Mirvan feemed in the ut- 
 moft aftonifhment ; and the Captain, rifing and ap- 
 proaching Madame Duval, with a voice of authority, 
 faid, — « Why, how now, Mrs. Turkey-cock, 
 what's put you into this here flufter ?” 
 
 “« It’s nothing to you,” anfwered fhe, « fo you 
 may as well hold your tongue; for I fha’n’t be call- 
 ed to no account by you, I affure you.” 
 
 “ There you're out, Madam Fury,” returned he; 
 ‘for you muft know, I never fuffer any body to be 
 in a paflion in my houfe, but myfelf.” 
 
 «« But you /hall,” cried the, in’a great rage; ‘¢ for: 
 I'll be in as great a paffion as ever I pleafe, with- 
 out afking your leave ; fo don’t give yourfelf no more 
 airs about it. And as for you, Mifs,” again ad- 
 vancing tome, I order -you to follow: me this 
 moment, or elfe I'll make you repent it all your 
 life.” And, with thefe words, the flung out of the 
 room. 
 
 VOL. 1. F I was 
 
98 EVELINA. 
 
 I was in fuch extreme terror, at being addreffed 
 and threatened in a manner to which I am fo 
 wholly unufed, that I almoft thought I fhould have 
 fainted, 
 
 «« Don’t be alarmed, my love,” cried Mrs. Mir- 
 van, ‘* but {tay where you are, and I will follow 
 Madame Duval, and try to bring her to reafon.” 
 
 Mifs Mirvan took my hand, and moft kindly 
 endeavoured to raife my {pirits, Sir Clement, too, 
 approached me, with an air fo interefted in- my 
 diltrefs, that I could not but feel myfelf obliged to 
 him; and, taking my other hand, faid, “ For Hea- 
 ven’s fake, my dear Madam, compofe yourfelf: 
 furely the violence of fuch a wretch ought merely 
 to move your contempt ; fhe can have no right, I 
 imagine, to lay her commands upon you, and I 
 only wifh that you would allow me to {peak to her.” 
 
 “© no! not for the world !—indeed, I believe, 
 —J am afraid—I had better follow her.” 8 
 
 « Follow her! Good God, my dear Mifs An- 
 ville, would you truft yourfelf with a mad_ woman? 
 for what elfe can you call a creature whofe pailions 
 are fo infolent? No, no; fend her word at once to 
 leave the houfe, and tell her you defire that fhe will 
 never fee you again.” 
 
 «QO Sir! you don’t know who you talk of!—it 
 would ill become me to fend Madame Duval fuch a 
 meflage.” 
 
 «« But why,” cried he, (looking very inquifitive,) 
 why fhould you fcruple to treat her as the deferves ?” 
 
 I then found that his aim was to difcover the na- 
 ture of her conneétion with me ; but I felt fo much 
 aihamed of my near relationfhip to her, that I could 
 not perfuade myfelf to anfwer him, and only in- 
 treated that he would leave her to Mrs. Mirvan, 
 who juft then entered the room. : 
 
 Before fhe could {peak to me, the Captain called 
 out, “ Well, Goody, what have you done with Ma- 
 dame French? is fhe cooled a little? *caufe if fhe 
 ben’t 
 
EV ELENA, o¢ 
 
 ben't, I've juft thought of a moft excellent device 
 to bring her to.” 
 
 “© My dear Evelina,” faid Mrs Mirvan, “ I have 
 been vainly endeavouring to appeafe her; I pleaded 
 your engagement, and promifed your future attend- 
 ance: but I am forry to fay, my love, that I fear 
 her rage will end ina total breach (which I think 
 you had better avoid) if the is any further oppofed.” 
 
 «Then I will go to her, Madam,” cried 1; ‘‘and, 
 indeed, it is now no matter, for I fhould not be able 
 to recover my fpirits fufficiently to enjoy much 
 pleafure any where this evening.” 
 
 Sir Clement began a very warm expoftulation 
 and intreaty, that I would not go; but I begged 
 him to defift, and told him, very honeftly, that, if 
 my compliance were not indifpenfably neceffary, I 
 fhould require no perfuafion to ftay. He then took 
 my hand, to lead me down ftairs ; but the Captain 
 defired him to be quiet, faying he would {quire me 
 himfelf, « becaufe,” he added, (exultingly rubbing 
 his hands) «I have a Wipe ready for the old lady, 
 which may ferve her to chew as the goes along.” 
 
 We found her in the parlour, « O, you’re come 
 at laft, Mifs, are you ?—fine airs you give yourfelf, 
 indeed !—ma foi, if you hadn’t come, you might 
 have ftaid, I affure you, and have been a beggar for 
 your pains.”, 
 
 ‘« Heyday, Madam,” cried the Captain, (pran- 
 cing forward, with a look of great glee,) what, a’n’t 
 you got out of that there paifion yet? why then, 
 [ll tell you what to doto cool yourfelf; call upon 
 your old friend, Monfeer Slippery, who was with 
 you at Ranelagh, and give my fervice to him, and 
 tell him, if he fets any ftore by your health, that I 
 defire he'll give you fuch another foufe as he did be- 
 fore : he'll know what I mean, and I'll warrant you 
 he’ll do’t for my fake.” 
 
 “ Let him, if he dares!” cried Madame Duval; 
 «but I fhan’t flay to anfwer you no more; you 
 
 F 2 are 
 
£00 EVELINA. 
 
 are a vulgar fellow ;—and fo, child, let us leave him 
 to himfelf.” 
 
 «« Hark ye, Madam,” cried the Captain, ‘you'd 
 beft not call names ; becaufe, d’ye fee, if you do, I 
 fhall make bold to fhow you the door.” 
 
 She changed colour, and faying, “ Pardi, 1 can 
 fhew it myfelf,” hurried out of the room, and I 
 followed her into a hackney-coach. But before we 
 drove off, the Captain, looking out’ of the parlour 
 window, called out, ‘* D’ye hear, Madam, don't 
 forget my meflage to Monfeer.” 
 
 You will believe our ride was not the moft 
 agreeable in the world; indeed, it would be dif- 
 ficult to fay which was leaft pleafed, Madame Du- 
 val or me, though the reafons of our difcontent 
 were fo different: however, Madame Duval foon 
 got the ftart of me ; for we had hardly turned out 
 of Queen-Ann-ftreet, when a man, running full 
 fpeed, ftopt the coach. Hecame up to the window, 
 and I faw he was the Captain’s fervant. He hada 
 broad grin on his face, and panted for breath. Ma- 
 dame Duval demanded his bufinefs: ‘* Madam,” 
 anfwered he, ‘‘ my matter defires his compliments 
 to you, and—and—and he fays he wifhes it well 
 over with you. He! he! he!—” 
 
 Madame Duval inftantly darted forward, and 
 gave him a violent blow on the face; ‘* Take that 
 back for your anfwer, firrah,” cried fhe, ‘« and learn 
 to grin at your betters another time. Coachman, 
 drive on!” 
 
 The fervant was in a violent paffion, and fwore 
 terribly; but we were foon out of hearing. 
 
 The rage of Madame Duval was greater than ever; 
 and fhe inveighed againft the Captain with fuch 
 fury, that I was even apprehenfive fhe would have 
 returned to his houfe, purpofely to reproach him, 
 which fhe repeatedly threatened to do; nor would 
 fhe, I believe, have hefitated a moment, but that, 
 
 notwith- 
 
EVELINA 102 
 
 notwithftanding her violence, he has really made 
 her afraid of him. 
 
 When we came to her lodgings, we found all the 
 Branghtons in the paflage, impatiently Waiting for 
 us, with the door open. 
 
 “«* Only fee; here’s Mifs!” cried the brother. 
 
 “Well, I declare I thowght as much!” faid the 
 younger filter. 
 
 ‘© Why, Mifs,” faid Mr. Branghton, «I think 
 you might as well have come with your coufins at 
 once ; it’s throwing money in the dirt, to pay two 
 coaches for one fare. 
 
 ‘© Lord, father,” cried the fon,” make no words 
 about that; for I'll pay for the coach that Mifs 
 had.” 
 
 “O, Iknow very well,” anfwered Mr. Brangh- 
 ton, ‘ that you’re always more ready to fpend than 
 to earn,” 
 
 I then interfered, and begged that I might myfelf 
 be allowed to pay the fare, as the expence was in- 
 curred upon my account ; they all faid ns, and pro- 
 pofed that the fame coach thould carry us to the 
 opera. 
 
 While this paffed, the Mifs Branghtons were 
 examining my drefs, which, indeed, was very im- 
 proper for my company; and as ] was extremely 
 unwilling to be fo conf{picuous amongit them, [ 
 requefted Madame Duval to borrow a hat or a bon- 
 net for me of the people ofthe houfe. But the never 
 Wears-either herfelf, and thinks them very Evnalifh 
 and barbarous; therefore the infifted that I fhould 
 go full dreffed, as I had prepared myfelf for the pit, 
 though I made many objections. 
 
 We were then all crowded into the fame car- 
 riage; but when we arrived at the opera-houfe, [ 
 contrived to pay the coachman, They made a 
 £reat many fpeeches; but Mr, Branghton’s re- 
 fletion had determined me not to be indebted to 
 him. 
 
 A If 
 
102 EVELINA, 
 
 If I had not been too much chagrined to laugh; 
 1 thould have been extremely diverted at their ig- 
 norance of whatever belongs to an opera. In the 
 firft place, they could not tell at what door we ought 
 to enter, and we wandered about for fome time, 
 without knowing which way to turn: they did not 
 choofe to apply to me, though I was the only perfon 
 of the party who had ever before been at an opera; 
 becaufe they were unwilling to fuppofe that their 
 country coufin, as they were pleafed to call me, fhould 
 e better acquainted with any London public place 
 han themfelves. I was very indifferent and care- 
 efs upon this fubje&t; but not a little uneafy at 
 finding that my drefs, fo different from that of the 
 company to which I belonged, attracted general 
 notice and obfervation. 
 
 Ina fhort time, however, we arrived at one of 
 the door-keeper’s bars. Mr. Branghton demanded 
 for what part of the houfe they took money ? 
 They anfwered, The pit ; and regarded us with 
 great earneftnefs. The fon than advancing, faid 
 «* Sir, if you pleafe, I beg that I may treat Mifs.” 
 
 « Weill fettle that another time,” anfwered Mr. 
 Branghton, and put down a guinea. 
 
 Two tickets of admiflion were given to him. 
 
 Mr. Branghton, in his turn, now {tared at the door- 
 keeper, and demanded what he meant by giving him 
 only two tickets for a guinea? 
 
 “ Only two, Sir!” faidthe man; “ why, don’t 
 you know that the tickets are half-a-guinea each!” 
 
 «« Half-a-guinea each!” repeated Mr. Branghton, 
 «« why I never heard of fuch a thing in my life! 
 And pray, Sir, how many will they admit ae 
 
 «« Juft as ufual, Sir, one perfon each.” 
 
 «« But one perfon for half-a-guinea!—why, I only 
 want to fit in the pit, friend.” 
 
 «« Had not the ladies better fit in the gallery, Sir; 
 for they'll hardly choofe to go in the pit with their 
 
 hats on” 
 «“Q, as 
 
 t 
 t 
 t 
 
EVELINA. 103 
 
 “« O, as to that,” cried Mifs Branghton, « if our 
 hats are too high, we'll take them off when we get 
 in. I fha’n’t mind it, for I did my hair on pur- 
 pofe.” 
 
 Another party than approaching, the door-keeper 
 could no longer attend to Mr. Branghton ;_ who, 
 taking up the guinea, told him it fhould be long 
 enough before he'd fee it again, and walked away. 
 
 The young ladies, in fome confufion, expreffed 
 their furprife that their papa fhould not know the 
 opera prices, which, for their parts, they had read in 
 the papers a thoufand times. 
 
 “The price of {tocks,” faid he, ‘* is enough for 
 me to fee after; and I tock it for granted it was 
 the fame thing here as at the play-houfe.” 
 
 “ T knew well enough what the price was,” faid 
 the fon ; * but I would not {peak, becaufe I thought 
 perhaps they'd take lefs, as we're fuch a large 
 party.” 
 
 “ The fifters both laughed very contemptuoufly at 
 this idea, and afked him if he ever heard of people’s 
 abating any thing at a public place? 
 
 “TI don’t know whether I have or no,” anfwered 
 he; ‘but I am fure if they would, you'd like it fo 
 much the worfe.” 
 
 “« Very true, Tom,” cried Mr. Branghton ; tell 
 2 woman that any thing is reafonable, and the’ll be 
 fure to hate it.” 
 
 «© Well,” faid Mifs Polly, «I hope that Aunt 
 and Mifs will be of our fide, for papa always takes 
 part with Tom.” 
 
 «« Come, come,” cried Madame Duval, « if you 
 ftand talking here, we fha'n’t get no place at all.” 
 
 Mr. Branghton then inquired the way to the gal- 
 lery; and, when we came to the door-keeper, de- 
 manded what was to pay. 
 
 “The ufual price, Sir,” faid the man, 
 
 «« Then give me change,” cried Mr. Branghton, 
 again putting down his guinea. 
 
 * For 
 
To4 EVELINA. 
 
 «¢ For how many, Sir?” 
 
 «« Why—let’s fee, for fix.” 
 
 «For fix, Sir? why, you've given me but a 
 guinea.” 
 
 «« But a guinea! why, how much would you 
 have? I fuppofe it i’n’t half-a-guinca a piece here 
 too?” 
 
 «« No, Sir, only five fhillings.” 
 
 Mr. Branghton again took up hi unfortunate 
 guinea, and protefted he would fubmit to no fuch 
 impofition. I then propofed that we fhould. return 
 home, but Madame Duval would not confent; and 
 we were conduéted, by a woman who fells books of 
 the opera, to another gallery-door, where, after 
 fome difputing, Mr. Branghton at laft paid, and we 
 all went up ftairs. 
 
 Madame Duval complained very much of the 
 trouble of going fo high; but Mr. Branghton de- 
 fired her not to hold the place too cheap; ‘ for, 
 whatever you think,” cried he, ‘ I affure you I 
 paid pit price ; fo don’t fuppofe I come here to fave 
 my money.” 
 
 «« Well, to be fure,” faid Mifs Branghton, * there’s 
 no judging of a place by the outfide, elfe, I muft 
 needs fay, there’s nothing very extraordinary in the 
 {tair-cafe.” ; 
 
 But, when we entered the gallery, their amaze- 
 ment and difappointment became general. [ora 
 few inftants, they looked at one another without 
 {peaking, and then they all broke filence at once. 
 
 « Lord, papa,” exclaimed Mifs Polly, ‘* why, 
 you have brought us to the one-fhilling gallery !” 
 
 «¢ T'll be glad to give you two fhillings, thougli,” 
 anfwered he, ‘‘ to pay. I was neyer {fo fooled out 
 of my money before, fince the hour of my birth. 
 Either the door-keeper’s a knave, or this is the 
 greateft impofition that ever was put upon the 
 
 public.” 
 “ Ma 
 
EVELINA. 105 
 
 *¢ Ma foi,” cried Madame Duval, “I never fat 
 in fuch a mean place in all my life ;—why, it’s as 
 high !—we fha'n’t fee nothing.” 
 
 ‘« I thought at the time,” faid Mr. Branghton, 
 «« that three fhillings was an exorbitant price for 
 a place in the gallery: but as we’d been afked fo 
 much more at the other doors, why I paid it with- 
 out many words; but then, to be fure, thinks I, 
 it can never be like any other gallery, we fhall fee 
 fome crinkum-crankum or other for our money; but 
 I find it’s as arrant a take-in as ever I met with.” 
 
 ‘« Why, it’s as like the twelve-penny gallery at 
 Drury-Lane,” cried the fon, ‘* as two peas are to 
 oneanother. I never knew father fo bit before.” 
 
 “« Lord,” faid Mifs Branghton, « I thought it 
 would have been quite a fine place,—all over, I 
 don’t know what,—and done quite in tafte.” 
 
 In this manner they continued to exprefs their 
 diflatisfaction till the curtain drew up; after which 
 their obfervations were very curious. They made 
 no allowance for the cuftoms, or even for. the lan- 
 guage, of another country ; but formed all theif re- 
 marks upon comparifons with the Englith theatre. 
 
 Notwithftanding my vexation at having been for- 
 ced into a party fo very difagreeable, and that, too, 
 from one fo much—fo very much the contrary— 
 yet, would they have fuffered me to liften, I thould 
 have forgotten every thing unpleafant, and felt no 
 thing but delight in hearing the fweet voice of Signor 
 Millico, the firft finger ; but they tormented me 
 with continual talking. 
 
 «« What a jabbering they make!” cried Mr: 
 Branghton, ‘ there’s no knowing a word they fay. 
 Pray, what’s the reafon they can’t as well fing in 
 Englith ?—but I fuppofe the fine folks would not 
 like it, if they could underiland it.” 
 
 “How unnatural their ation is!” faid the fon: 
 *‘ why, now, who ever faw an Englifhman put 
 himfelf in fuch out-of-the-way poftures ?” 
 
 “* For 
 
106 EVELINA. 
 «« For my part,” faid Mifs Polly, « I think it’s 
 
 very pretty, only I don’t know what it means.” 
 
 «« Lord, what does that fignify,” cried her fifter ; 
 «*mayn’t one like a thing without being fo very par- 
 ticular?—You may fee that Mifs likes it, and I 
 don’t fuppofe fhe knows more of the matter than 
 we do.” 
 
 A gentleman, foon after, was fo obliging as to 
 make room in the front row for Mifs Branghton 
 and me. We had no fooner feated ourfelves, than 
 Mifs Branghton exclaimed, ‘* Good gracious! only 
 {ee!—why, Polly, all the people in the pit are with- 
 out hats, dreffed like any thing!” 
 
 ‘Lord, fo they are,” cried Mifs Polly; well, 
 I never faw the like!—it’s worth coming to’ the 
 opera, if one faw nothing elfe.” 
 
 I was then able to diftinguifh the happy party I 
 had left; and I faw that Lord Orville had feated 
 himfelf next to Mrs. Mirvan. Sir Clement had his 
 eyes perpetually caft towards the five-fhilling gallery, 
 where I fuppofe he concluded that we were feated ; 
 however, before the opera was over, I have reafon 
 to believe that he had difcovered me, high and diitant 
 as 1 was from him. -Probably he diftinguifhed me 
 by my head-drefs, 
 
 At the end of the firft at, as the green curtain 
 dropped to prepare for the dance, they imagined 
 that the opera wasdone; and Mr. Branghton, ex- 
 prefled great indignation that he had been tricked 
 out of his money with fo little trouble. «* Now, if 
 any Englifhman was to do fuch an impudent thing 
 as this,” faid he, ** why, he’d be pelted ;—but here, 
 one of thefe outlandith gentry may do juft what he 
 pleafes, and come on, and {queak out a fong or two, 
 and then pocket your money without further cere- 
 mony.” 
 
 However, fo determined he was to be diflatisfed, 
 that, before the conclufion of the third a&, he found 
 {trill more fault with the opera for being too long; 
 
 and 
 
EVELINA. 107 
 
 and wondered whether they thought their finging 
 good enough to ferve us for fupper. 
 
 During the fymphony of a fong of Signor Mil- 
 lico’s, in the fecond a&t, young Mr. Branghton faid, 
 « It’s my belief that that fellow’s going to fing an- 
 other fong!—why there’s nothing but finging !—TI 
 wonder when they'll {peak.” 
 
 This fong, which was flow and pathetic, caught 
 all my attention, and I lean’d my head forward to 
 avoid hearing their obfervations, that I might liften 
 without interruption: but, upon turning round, 
 when the fong was over, I found that I was the ob- 
 ject of general diverfion to the whole party ; for the 
 Mifs Branghtons were tittering, and the two gentle- 
 men making figns and faces at me, implying their 
 contempt of my affeCtation. 
 
 This difcovery determined me to appear as inat- 
 tentive as themfelves ; but I was very much pro- 
 voked at being thus prevented enjoying the only 
 pleafure, which, in fuch a party, was within my 
 power. ‘ 
 
 «So Mifs,” faid Mr. Branghton, “ you’re quite 
 in thé fafhion, I fee ;—fo you like operas? well, 
 I’m not fo polite; I can’t like nonfenfe, let it be 
 never fo much the tafte.” 
 
 “ But pray, Milfs,” faid the fon, «what makes 
 that fellow look fo doleful while he is finging £” 
 
 «Probably becaufe the character he performs is 
 in diftrefs.” 
 
 «Why, then, I think he might as well let alone 
 finging till he’s in better cue: it’s out of all nature 
 for a man to be piping when he’s in diftrefs. For 
 my part, I never fing but when I’m merry; yet I 
 love a fong as well as moft people.” 
 
 When the curtain dropt they all rejoiced. 
 
 «© How do you like it?—and how do you like it?” 
 paffed from one to another with look= of the utmoft 
 
 “contempt. ‘As for me,” faid Mr. Branghton, 
 “they've caught me once; but if ever they do again, 
 
108 EVELINA. 
 
 I'll give ’em leave to fing me to Bedlam for my 
 pains : for fuch a heap of ftuff never did I hear ; there 
 isn’t one ounce of fenfe in the whole Opera, nothing 
 but one continued fqueaking and {qualling from be- 
 ginning toend.”  - 
 
 «Tf I had been in the pit,” faid Madame Duval, 
 «© T fhould have liked it vaftly, for mufic is my 
 paflion ; but fitting in-fuch a place as this, is quite 
 unbearable.” 
 
 Mifs Branghton, looking at me, declared, that 
 fhe was not genteel enough to admire it. 
 
 Mifs Polly confeffed, that, if they would but fing 
 Englifh, the would like it very well, 
 
 The brother wifhed he could raife a riot in the 
 houfe, becaufe then he might get his money again, 
 
 And, finally, they all agreed, that it was mon- 
 firous dear, 
 
 During the laft dance, I perceived, ftanding near 
 the gallery-door, Sir Clement Willoughby. I was 
 extremely vexed, and would have given the world 
 to have avoided being feen by him : my chief ob- 
 jection was, from the apprehenfion that he would 
 hear Mifs Branghton call me coufin.—I fear you will 
 think this London journey has made me grow very 
 proud; but indeed this family is fo low-bred and 
 vulgar, that I fhould be equally afhamed of fuch a 
 connection in the country, or any where. And: 
 really I had already been fo much chagrined that Sir 
 Clement had been a witnefs of Madame Duval’s. 
 power over me, that I could not bear to be expofed. 
 to any further mortification. 
 
 As the feats cleared, by parties going away, Sir 
 Clement approached nearer to us. The Mifs Brangh- 
 tons obferved with furprife, what a fine gentleman 
 was come into the gallery; and they gave me great 
 reafon to expect, that they would endeavour to at- 
 tract his notice, by familiarity with me, whenever 
 he fhould join us 5 and fo I formed a fort of plan to - 
 prevent any converfation, I’m afraid you will think 
 
 it 
 
EVELINA. 1cg 
 
 it Wrong; and fo I do myfelf now ;—but, at the 
 time, I only confidered how I might avoid imme- 
 diate humiliation. 
 
 As foon as he was Within two feats of us, he 
 {poke to me: “ IT am very happy, Mifs Anville, to 
 have found you ; for the Ladies below have each an 
 humble attendant, and therefore I am come to offer 
 my fervices here.” 
 
 “Why then,” cried I (not without hefitating) 
 ‘if you pleafe,—I will join them,” 
 
 “« Will you allow me the honour of conduing 
 you?” cried he eagerly; and, in{tantly taking my 
 hand, he would have marched away with me: but 
 I turned to Madame Duval, and faid, “ As our 
 party is fo large, Madam, if you will give me leave, 
 I will go down to Mrs. Mirvan, that ] may not 
 crowd you in the coach.” 
 
 And then, without Waiting for an anfwer, I fuf- 
 fered Sir Clement to hand me out of the gallery. 
 
 Madame Duval, I doubt not, will be very angry ; 
 and fo I am with myfelf now, and therefore I can- 
 not be furprifed : but Mr. Branghton, I am fure,, 
 will eafily comfort himfelf, in having efcaped. the 
 additional coach-expenfe of carrying me to Queen. 
 Ann-ftreet : as to his daughters, they had no time 
 to fpeak ; but I faw they were in utter amazement, 
 
 My intention was to join Mrs. Mirvan, and aca 
 company her home. Sir Clement was in high {pi- 
 Tits and good-humour ;_ and, all the Way we went, 
 I was fool enough to rejoice in fecret at the fuccefs 
 of my plan; nor was it till I got down ftairs, and 
 amidit the fervants, that any difficulty occurred to 
 meof meeting with my friends. 
 
 I then atked Sir Clement, how I fhould contrive 
 to acquaint Mrs. Mirvan that E had ieft Madame 
 Duval? 
 
 “I fear it will be almoft impoflible to find her,” 
 anfwered he; « but you can have no objection to 
 permitting me to fee you fafe home.” 
 
110 EVELINA, 
 He then defired his fervant, who was waiting, te 
 order his chariot to draw up. 
 This quite ftartled me ; I turned to him hattily, 
 and faid that I could not think of going away with- 
 
 out Mrs. Mirvan. 
 
 « But how can we meet with her?” cried he ; 
 «© you will not choofe to go into the pit yourfelf; 
 I cannot fend a fervant there ; and it is impoflible 
 for me to go and leave you alone.” 
 
 The truth of this was indifputable, and totally 
 filenced me. Yet, as foon as I could recolle&t my- 
 felf, I determined not to go into his chariot, and 
 told him I believed I had beft return to my party 
 up ftairs. 
 
 He would not hear of this; and earneftly in- 
 treated me not to withdraw the truft I had repofed 
 in him. 
 
 While he was fpeaking, I faw Lord Orville, 
 with feveral ladies and gentlemen, coming from the 
 pit paflage : unfortunately he faw me too, and, 
 leaving his company, advanced inftantly towards 
 me, and, with an air and voice of furprife, faid, 
 « Good God, dod fee Mifs Anville!” 
 
 I now moft feverely felt the folly of my plan, and 
 the awkwardnefs of my fituation : however, I haften- 
 ed to tell him, though in a hefitating manner, that 
 J was waiting for Mrs. Mirvan ; but what was my 
 difappointment, when he acquainted me that fhe was 
 already gone home! 
 
 [ was inexpreflibly diftreffed ; to fuffer Lord Or- 
 ville to think me fatisfied with the fingle protection 
 of Sir Clement Willoughby, I could not bear; yet 
 I was more than ever averfe to returning to a party 
 which I dreaded his feeing: I ftood fome moments 
 in fufpenfe, and could not help exclaiming, “ Good 
 Heaven, what can I do!” 
 
 « Why, my dear Madam,” cried Sir Clement, 
 « fhould you be thus uneafy? you will reach 
 
 Queen- 
 
EVELINA, Tit 
 
 Queen-Ann-ftreet almoft as foon as Mrs. Mirvan, 
 and I am fure you cannot doubt being as fafe.” 
 
 I made no anfwer, and Lord Orville then faid, 
 «« My coach is here’;, and my fervants are ready to 
 take any commands Mifs Anville will honour me 
 with for them. [I fhall myfelf go home in a chair, 
 and therefore—” 
 
 How grateful did I feel for a propofal fo confi- 
 derate, and made with fo much delicacy! I fhould 
 gladly have accepted it, had I been permitted, but Sir 
 Clement would net let him even finith his fpeech ; 
 he interrupted him with evident difpleafure, and faid, 
 ‘«« My Lord, my own chariot is now at the door.” 
 
 And juft then the fervant came, and told him the 
 carriage was ready. He begged to have the honour 
 of conducting me to it, and would have taken my 
 hand; but I drew it back, faying, «* Ican’t—I can’t 
 indeed! pray, go by yourfelf—and as to me, let 
 me have a chair.” 
 
 «* Impoflible !” (cried he with vehemence) I cane 
 not think of trufting you with f{trange chairmen,—I 
 cannot anfwer it to Mrs. Mirvan ;—come, deat 
 Madam, we fhall be home in five minutes.” 
 
 Again I ftood fufpended. With what joy would 
 I then have compromifed with my pride, to have 
 been once more with Madame Duval and the 
 Branghtons, provided I had not met with Lord Or- 
 ville ! However, I flatter myfelf that he not only 
 faw but pitied my embarraffment ; for he faid, ina 
 tone of voice unufually foftened, “ Io offer ny fer. 
 vices in the prefence of Sir Clement Willoughby 
 would be fuperfluous ; but I hope I need not ature 
 Milfs Anville, how happy it would make me to be 
 of the leaft ufe to her.” 
 
 I courtefy’d my thanks, Sir Clement, with great 
 earneitnefs, prefied me to go; and while I was thus 
 uneafily deliberating what to do, the dance, I fup- 
 pofe, finifhed, for the people crowded down ftairs. 
 Had Lord Orville then repeated. his offer, I would 
 
 have 
 
112 EVELINA. 
 
 have accepted it, notwith{tanding Sir Clement's re~ 
 pugnance ; but I fancy he thought it would be im- 
 pertinent. Ina very few minutes I heard Madame 
 Duval’s voice, as fhe defcended from the. gallery. 
 «« Well,” cried I, haftily, ** if I muft go—” I ftopt; 
 but Sir Clement immediately handed me into his 
 chariot, called out, * Queen-Ann-ftreet,” and then 
 jumped in himfelf. Lord Orville, with a bow and 
 a half fmile, wifhed me good night. 
 
 My concern was fo great at being feen and left by 
 Lord Orville in fo ftrange a fituation, that I fhould 
 have been beft pleafed to have remained wholly filent 
 during our ride home: but Sir Clement took care 
 to prevent that. 
 
 He began by making many complaints of my un- 
 willingnefs to truft myfelf with him, and begged to 
 know what could be the reafon? ‘This queftion fo 
 much embarraffled me, that I could not tell what to 
 anfwer ; but only faid, that I was forry to have 
 taken up fo much of his time. 
 
 «©O Mifs Anville,” (cried he, taking my hand) 
 «if you knew with what tranfport I would dedicate 
 to you not only the prefent, but all the future time 
 allotted tome, you would not injure me by making 
 fuch an apology.” 
 
 -I could not think of a word to fay to this, nor to 
 a great many other equally fine {peeches with which 
 he ran on; though I would fain have withdrawn my 
 hand, and made almoft continual attempts; but in 
 vain, for he actually grafped it between both his; 
 without any regard to my refiftance. 
 
 Soon after, he faid, that he believed the coach- 
 man was going the wrong way; and he called to 
 his fervant, and gave him directions. Then again 
 addreffing himfelf to me, ‘* How often, how affi- 
 duoufly have I fought an opportunity of {peaking to: 
 you, without the prefence of that brute, Captain 
 Mirvan! Fortune has now kindly favoured me with 
 one; and permit me,” (again feizing my hand) « per- 
 
 mit 
 
EVELINA, 113 
 
 mit me to ufe it-in telling you that I adere 
 you.” 
 
 I was quite thunderftruck at this abrupt and un- 
 expected declaration. For fome moments I was 
 filent; but when I recovered from my furprife, I 
 faid, ‘* Indeed, Sir, if you were determined to make 
 me repent leaving my own party fo foolifhly, you 
 have very well fucceeded,’ 
 
 «« My deareft life,” cried he, ‘‘ is it poffible you 
 can be fo cruel? Can your nature and your counter 
 nance be fo totally oppofite? Can the {weet bloom 
 upon thofe charming cheeks, which appears as much 
 the refult of good-h amour as of beauty—” 
 
 «O, Sir,” cried I, interrupting him, * this is 
 very fine; but I had hoped we had had enough of 
 this fort of converfation at the Ridotto, and I did 
 not expect you would fo foon refume it.” 
 
 «What I then faid, my {weet reproacher, was 
 
 the effect of a miftaken, a prophane idea, that your 
 underftanding held no. competitionwith your beauty; 
 but now, now that I find you equally incomparable 
 in both, all words, all powers of fpeech, are too 
 feeble to exprefs the admiration I feel of your excel- 
 lencies.” 
 
 “Indeed,” cried I, ** if your thoughts had any 
 connection with your language, you would never 
 fuppofe that I could give credit to praife fo very 
 much above my defert.” 
 
 This es which I made very gravely, occa- 
 fioned {till ftronger proteftations ; which he con- 
 tinued to pour forth, and I continued to difclaim, 
 till I began to wonder that we were not in Queen- 
 Ann-ftreet, and begged he would Geis the coach- 
 man to drive fatter. 
 
 . And does this little moment,’ ae he, “¢ which 
 is the firft of happinefs I have ever known, does it 
 already appear fo very long to you!” 
 
 «¢T am afraid the man has miftaken the way,” 
 anfwered I, ‘‘ or elfe we fhould ere now have been 
 
 at 
 
II4 EVELINA. 
 
 at our journey’s end. I muft beg you will fpeak to 
 him.” 
 
 «« And can you think me fo much my own enemy? 
 — if my good genius has infpired the man with a 
 defire of prolonging my happinefs, can you expec& 
 that I fhould countera& its indulgence?” 
 
 I now began to apprehend that he had himfelf 
 ordered the man to go a wrong way ; and I was fo 
 much alarmed at the idea, that, the very inftant it 
 occurred to me, I let down the glafs, and made a 
 fudden effort to open the chariot-door myfelf, with 
 a view of jumping into the ftreet; but he caught 
 hold of me, exclaiming, ‘* For Heaven’s fake, what 
 is the matter ?” 
 
 «© T—J don’t know,” cried I (quite out of breath), 
 «‘ but Iam fure the man goes wrong; and, if you 
 will not fpeak to him, I am determined to get out 
 myfelf.” 
 
 *¢ You amaze me,” anfwered he (ftill holding 
 me), ‘I cannot imagine what you » apprehend. 
 Surely you can have no doubts of my honour ?” 
 
 tie drew me towards him as he fpoke. I was 
 frightened dreadfully, and could hardly fay, « No, 
 Sir, no,—none at all: only Mrs. Mirvan,—I think 
 fhe will be uneafy.” 
 
 «« Whence this alarm, my deareft angel ?—- 
 What can you fear?—my life is at your devotion, 
 and can you, then, doubt my protefion?” 
 
 And fo faying, he paffionately kiffed my hand, 
 
 Never, in my whole life, have I been fo terrified. 
 I broke forcibly from him, and, putting my head out 
 of the window, called aloud to the man to ftop. 
 Where we then were, I know not; but I faw not 
 a human beirig, or I fhould have called for help. 
 
 Sir Clement, with great earneftnefs, endeavoured 
 to appeafe and compote me: ‘* If you do not intend 
 to murder me,” cried 1; * for mercy’s, for pity’s 
 fake, let me get out !” 
 
 «« Compofe 
 
EVELINA. Oa 
 
 «« Compofe your fpirits, my deareft life,” cried 
 he, ‘‘and I will do every thing you would have me.” 
 And then he called to the man himfelf, and bid him 
 make hafte to Queen-Ann-ftreet.  ‘* This ftupid 
 fellow,” continued hé, ‘ has certainly miftaken-my 
 orders ; but I hope you are now fully fatisfied.” 
 
 I made no anfwer, but kept my head at the win- 
 dow, watching which way he drove, but without 
 any comfort to myfelf, as I was quite unacquainted 
 with either the right or the wrong. 
 
 Sir. Clement now poured forth abundant pro- 
 teftations of ‘honour, and’affurances of refpect, in- 
 treating my pardon for having offended me, and be- 
 feeching my good opinion : but I was quite filent, 
 having too much apprehenfion to make reproaches, 
 and too much anger to {peak without. 
 
 In this manner we went through -feveral fireets, 
 till at laft, to my great terror, he fuddedly ordered 
 the man to ftop, and faid, «* Mifs Anville, we are 
 now within twenty yards of your houfe; but I can- 
 not bear to part with you, till you generoufly for= 
 give me for the offence you have taken, and promife 
 not to make it known to the Mirvans.” 
 
 I hefitated between fear and indignation. 
 
 «Your relu€tance to {peak redoubles my cone 
 trition for having difpleafed you, fince it fhews the 
 reliance I might have on a promife which you will 
 not give without confideration.” 
 
 «« Tam very, very much diftrefled,” cried I ; “you 
 afk a promife which you muft be fenfible I ought 
 not to grant, and yet dare not refufe.” 
 
 «© Drive on!” cried he to the coachman ; 
 «¢ Mifs Anville, I will not compel you; I willex- 
 a& no promife, but truft wholly to your generofity.”” 
 
 This rather foftened me ; which advantage he no 
 fooner perceived, than he determined to avail him- 
 felf of; for he flung himfelf on his knees, and 
 pleaded with fo much fubmiffion, that I was really 
 obliged to forgive him, becaufe his humiliation 
 
 made 
 
116 EVELINA» 
 
 made me quite afhamed: and, after that, he would 
 not let me reft till I gave him my word that I 
 would not complain of him to Mrs. Mirvan. 
 
 My own folly and pride, which had pet me in 
 his power, were pleas which I could not but at- 
 tend to in his favour. However, I fhall take very 
 particular care never to be again alone with him. 
 
 When, at laft, we arrived at our houfe, I was 
 fo overjoyed, that I fhould certainly have pardoned 
 him then, if I had not before. As he handed me 
 up ftairs, he {colded his fervant aloud, and very 
 angrily, for having gone fo much out of the way, 
 Mifs Mirvan ran out to meet me; and who 
 fhould I fee behind her, but Lord Orville! 
 
 All my joy now vanifhed, and gave place to 
 fhame and confufion ; for I could not endure that 
 he fhould know hew long a time Sir Clement and 
 I had been together, fince I was not at liberty to af- 
 fign any reafon for it. 
 
 They all expreffed great fatisfaGion at feeing me ; 
 and faid they had been extremely uneafy and fur- 
 prifed that I was fo long coming home, as they had 
 heard from Lord Orville that I was not with Ma- 
 dame Duval. Sir Clement, in an affe@ed paflion, 
 faid, that his booby of a fervant had mifunderftood 
 his orders, and was driving us to the upper end of 
 Piccadilly. For my part, I only coloured ; for tho’ 
 I would not forfeit my word, I yet difdained to 
 confirm a tale in which I had myfelf no belief. 
 
 Lord Orville, with great politenefs, congratulat- 
 ed me, that the troubles of the evening had fo hap~ 
 pily ended; and faid, that he had found it impof- 
 fible to return home, before he inquired after my 
 fafety. 
 
 Ina very fhort time he took leave, and Sir Cle- 
 ment followed him. As foonas they were gone, 
 Mrs. Mirvan, though with great foftnefs, blamed 
 me for having quitted Madame Duval. I affured 
 
 her, 
 
EVELINA. ‘117 
 
 her, and with truth, that for the future I would be 
 more prudent. 
 
 The adventures of the evening fo much difcon- 
 certed me, that I could not fleep all night. Iam 
 under the moft cruel apprehenfions left Lord Orville 
 fhould fuppofe my being on the gallery-ftairs with 
 Sir Clement was a concerted {cheme, and even that 
 our continuing fo long together in his chariot was 
 with my approbation, fince I did not fay a word on 
 the fubjeét, nor exprefs any diflatisfaion at the 
 coachman’s pretended blunder. 
 
 Yet his coming hither to wait our arrival, tho’ it 
 feems to imply fome doubt, fhews alfo fome anxiety. 
 Indeed, Mifs Mirvan fays, that he appeared extreme- 
 ly anxious, nay, uneafy and impatient for m 
 return. If] did not fear to flatter myfelf, I fhould 
 think it not impoflible but that he had a fufpicion of 
 Sir Clement’s defign, and was therefore concerned 
 for my fafety. 
 
 What a long letter is this! however, I fhall not 
 write many more from London; for the Captain 
 faid this morning, that he would leave town on 
 ‘Tuefday next. Madame Duval will dine here to- 
 day, and then fhe is to be told his intention. 
 
 I am very much amazed that fhe accepted Mrs. 
 Mirvan’s invitation, as the was in fuch wrath yefter- 
 day. I fear that to-day I thall myfelf be the prin- 
 cipal object of her difpleafure; but I muft fubmit 
 patiently, for I cannot defend mytelf, 
 
 Adieu, my deareft Sir. Should this letter be 
 productive of any uneafinefs to you, more than 
 ever fhall I repent the heedlefs imprudence which 
 it gecites. 
 
f 118. | 
 
 XX. 
 
 LETTER 
 EveLina iz Continuation. 
 
 Monday Morning, April 18. 
 
 Mars. Mirvan. has juft communicated to me 
 an anecdote concerning Lord Orville, which has 
 much furprifed, half pleafed, and half pained me. 
 
 While they were fitting together during the opera, 
 he told her that he had been greatly concerned at 
 the impertinence which the young lady under her 
 protection had fuffered from Mr. Lovel ; but that 
 he had the pleafure of afluring her, fhe had no 
 future difturbance to apprehend from him, 
 
 Mrs. Mirvan, with great eagernefs, begged he 
 would explain himfelf ; and faid fhe hoped he had 
 not thought fo infignificant an affair worthy his 
 ferious attention. 
 
 «s There is nothing,” anfwered he, * which re- 
 quires more immediate notice than impertinence, 
 for it ever encroaches when it is tolerated.” He 
 then added, that he believed he ought to apologize 
 for the liberty he had taken of interfering ; but that, 
 as he regarded himfelf in the light of a party con- 
 cerned, from having had the honour of dancing with 
 Mifs Anville, he could not poffibly reconcile to 
 himfelf.a patient neutrality. 
 
 He then proceeded to tell her, that he had waited 
 upon Mr. Lovel the morning after the play ; that 
 the vifit had proved an amicable one, but the par- 
 ticulars were neither entertaining nor neceflary : he 
 only affured her, Mifs Anville might be perfectly 
 eafy, fince Mr, Lovel had engaged his honour never 
 more to mention, or even to hint at what had pafled 
 at Mrs. Stanley’s aflembly. 
 
 Mrs. 
 
1 
 
 EVELINA. 11g 
 
 Mrs. Mirvan expreffed her fatisfaGtion at this 
 conclufion, and thanked him for his polite attention 
 to her young friend. 
 
 «© Tt would be needlefs,” faid he, **to requeft 
 that this affair may never tranfpire, fince Mrs. Mir- 
 van ‘cannot but fee the neceflity of keeping it in- 
 violably fecret; but I thought it incumbent upon 
 me, as the young lady is under your protection, 
 to affure both you and her of Mr. Lovel’s future 
 refpea.” 
 
 Had I known of this vifit previous to Lord Or- 
 ville’s making it, what dreadful uneafinefs would 
 it have coft me! Yet that he fhould fo much inte- 
 reft himfelf in fecuring me from offence, gives me, 
 I mutt own, an internal pleafure, greater than I can 
 exprefs; for I feared he had too contemptuous an 
 opinion of me, to take any trouble upon my ac- 
 count. Though, after all, this interference might 
 rather be to fatisfy his own delicacy, than from 
 thinking well of me. 
 
 But how cool, how quiet is true courage! Who, 
 from feeing Lord Orville at the play, would have 
 imagined his refentment would have hazarded his 
 life? yet his difpleafure was evident, though his real 
 bravery and his politenefs equally guarded him from 
 entering into any difcuflion in our prefence. 
 
 Madame Duval, as I expeted, was moit terribly 
 angry yefterday : fhe fcolded me for I believe two 
 hours, on account of having left her; and protefted 
 fhe had been fo much furprifed at my going, with- 
 eut giving her time to an{wer, that fhe hardly knew 
 whether ihe was awake or aileep. But fhe affured 
 me, that if ever I did fo again, fhe would never 
 more take me into public. And fhe exprefled an 
 equal degree of difpleafure again{t Sir Clement, be- 
 caufe he had not even fpoken to her, and becaufe 
 
 ~ he was always of the Captain’s fide in an argument. 
 
 The Captain, as bound in honour, warmly defended 
 him, and then followed a difpute in the ufual ftyle. 
 After 
 
113 EVELINA, 
 
 After dinner, Mrs, Mirvan introduced the fubje& 
 ef our leaving London. Madame Duval faid. the 
 fhould ftay a month or two longer. ‘The Captain 
 told her fhe was welcome, but that he and his fa- 
 mily fhould go into the country on Tuefday morning. 
 
 A moft difagreeable f{cene followed. Madame 
 Duval infifted upon keeping me with her; but Mrs. 
 Mirvan faid, that as I was actually engaged on a vifit 
 to Lady Howard, who had only confented to my 
 leaving her for a few days, fhe could not think of 
 returning without me. 
 
 Perhaps, if the Captain had not interfered, the 
 good-breeding and mildnefs of Mrs. Mirvan might 
 have had fome effet upon Madame Duval; but he 
 pafles no opportunity of provoking her ;_ and there- 
 fore made fo many grofs and rude fpeeches, all of 
 which fhe retorted, that, in conclufion, fhe vowed 
 fhe would fooner go to law in right of her relation- 
 hip, than that I fhould be taken. away from he:. 
 
 I heard this account from Mrs. Mirvan, who 
 was fo kindly confiderate as to give me a pretence 
 for quitting the room as foon as this difpute began, 
 jet Madame Duval fhould refer to me, and infift 
 on my obedience. 
 
 The final refult of the converfation was, that, to 
 foften matters for the prefent, Madame Duval fhould 
 make one in the party for Howard Grove, whither - 
 we are pofitively to go next Wednefday. And 
 though we are none of us fatisfied with this plan, 
 we know not how to form a better. 
 
 Mrs. Mirvan is now writing to Lady Howard, to 
 excufe bringing this unexpected guett, and to 
 prevent the dif. agreeable furprife which muft other- 
 wife attend hoe! reception. ‘This dear lady feems 
 eternally ftudying my happinefs and advantage. 
 
 ‘To-night we go to the Pantheon, which is the 
 Jaft divertion we fhall partake of in London ;. for 
 to-morrow 
 
 % * % 
 
 This 
 
EVELINA, ¥2t 
 
 This moment, my deareft Sir, I have received 
 your kind letter, 
 
 If you thought us too diffipated the firft week, I 
 almoft fear to know what you will think of us this 
 fecond ;—however, the Pantheon this evening will 
 probably be the laft public place which I fhall 
 ever fee. 
 
 The affurance of your fupport and proteétion in 
 regard to Madame Duval, though what I never 
 doubted, excites my utmoft gratitude. How, in- 
 deed, cherifhed under your roof, the happy object 
 of your conftant indulgence, how could I have 
 borne to become the flave of her tyrannical hu- 
 mours '—Pardon me that I fpeak fo hardly of her ; 
 but,. whenever the idea of pafling my days with her 
 occurs to me, the comparifon which naturally fol- 
 lows, takes from me all that forbearance which, I 
 believe, I owe her. 
 
 You are already difpleafed with Sir Clement: to 
 be fure,‘ then, his behaviour after the opera will not 
 make his peace with you. Indeed the more I refle& 
 upon it, the more angry Iam. I was entirely in 
 his power, and it was cruel in him to caufe me fo 
 much terror. 
 
 O, my deareft Sir, were I but worthy the prayers 
 and the wifhes you offer for me, the utmoft am- 
 bition of my heart would be fully fatisfied! but T 
 greatly fear you will find me, now that I am out of 
 the reach of your aflifling prudence, more weak and 
 imperfect than you could have expeéted. 
 
 I have not now time to write another word, 
 for I muft immediately haften to drefs for the 
 evening. 
 
 VOL, I. G 
 
LETTER XXIII, 
 Evevtina iz Continuation. 
 
 Queen-Ann-Street, Tuefday, April 19. 
 
 Tere is fomething to me half melancholy 
 in writing an account of our laft adventures in Lon- 
 don. However, as this day is merely appropriated 
 to packing and preparations for our journey, and as 
 1 fhall fhortly have no more adventures to write, I 
 think I may as well complete my town-journal at 
 once: and, when you have it all together, I hope, 
 my dear Sir, you will fend me your obfervations 
 and thoughts upon it to Howard Grove. 
 
 About eight o’clock we went to the Pantheon. I 
 was extremely ftruck with the beauty of the building, 
 which greately furpaffed whatever I could have ex- 
 pected or imagined. Yet it has more the appearance 
 of achapel than of a place of diverfion ; and, though 
 I was quite charmed with the magnificence of the 
 room, | felt that I could not be as gay and thought- 
 lefs there as at Ranelagh ; for there is fomething in 
 it which rather infpires awe and folemnity, than 
 mirth and pleafure. . However, perhaps it may only 
 have this effe&t upon fuch a novice as myfelf. 
 
 I fhould have faid, that our party confifted only 
 of Captain, Mrs. and Mifs Mirvan, as Madame 
 Duval fpent the day in the city ;—which I own I 
 could notlament, 4 : 
 
 There was a great deal of company ; but the firft 
 perfon we faw was Sir Clement Willoughby. He 
 addreffed us with his ufual eafe, and joined us for 
 the whole evening. I felt myfelf very uneafy in his 
 
 refence; for I could not look at him, nor hear 
 Pim fpeak, without recollefing the chariot-ad- 
 venture ; but,-to my great amazement, I obferved 
 that he looked at me without the leaft apparent dif- 
 7 compofure, 
 
BPVELEN AL 129 
 
 compofure, though, certainly, he ought not to think 
 of his behaviour without blufhing. I really with I 
 had not forgiven him, and then he could not have 
 ventured to {peak to me any more. 
 
 There was an exceeding good concert, but too 
 much talking to hear it well. Indeed I am quite 
 attonifhed to find how little mufic is attended to in 
 filence; for, though every body feems to admire, 
 hardly any body liftens. 
 
 We did not fee Lord Orville till we went into the 
 tea-room, which is large, low, and under ground, 
 and ferves merely as a foil to the apartments above ; 
 he then fat next us. He feemed to belong to a 
 large party, chiefly of ladies ; but, among the gentle- 
 men attending them, I perceived Mr. Lovel. 
 
 I was exttemely irrefolute whether or not I ought 
 to make any acknowledgments to Lord Orville for 
 his generous condué in fecuring me from the future 
 impertinence of that man; and I thought, that, as 
 he had feemed to allow Mrs. Mirvan to acquaint 
 m¢, though no one elfe, of the meafures which he 
 had taken, he might, perhaps, fuppofe me ungrate= 
 ful if filent: however, I might have {pared myfelf 
 the trouble of deliberating, as I never once had the 
 fhadow of an opportunity of {peaking unheard by 
 Sir Clement. On the contrary, he was fo exceed. 
 ingly officious and forward, that I could not fay-a 
 word to any body; but inftantly he bent his head 
 forward, with an air of profound attention, as if I 
 had.addreffed myfelf wholly to him: and yet [ never 
 once looked at him, and would not have {poken to 
 him ‘on any account. 
 
 Indeed, Mrs. Mirvan herfelf, though unacquaint- 
 ed with the behaviour of Sir Clement after. the 
 opera, ' fays it is not right for a young woman to be 
 feen fo frequently in public with the fame gentle- 
 man} and, if our ftay in town was to be lengthened, 
 the would endeavour to reprefetit to the Captain the 
 impropriety of allowing his conftant attendance ; for 
 
 G 2 Sir 
 
524 EVELINA, 
 
 Sir Clement with all his eafine/s, could not be fo 
 eternally of our parties, if the Captain was lefs fond 
 of his company. ; 
 
 At the fame table with Lord Orville fat a gentle- 
 man,—lI call him fo only becaufe he was at the 
 fame table,—who, almoft from the moment I was 
 feated, fixed his eyes {tedfaftly om my face, and never 
 once removed them to any other object during tea- 
 time, notwith{tanding my diflike of his ftaring, mutt, 
 I am fure, have been very evident. I was quite fur- 
 prifed, that a man, whofe boldnefs was fo oftenfive, 
 could have gained admiffion into a party of which 
 Lord Orville made one; for I naturally concluded 
 him to be fome low-bred and uneducated man; and 
 I thought my idea was indubitably confirmed, when 
 T heard him fay to Sir Clement Willotghby, in an 
 audible whifper,—which is a mode of {peech very 
 diftrefling and difagrceable to by-ftanders,—“ For 
 Heaven’s fake, Willoughby, who is that lovely 
 creature?” 
 
 But what was my amazement, when, liftening at- 
 tentively for the anfwer, though my head was turned 
 another way, I heard Sir Clement fay, ‘* 1am forry 
 I cannot inform your Lordfhip, but I am ignorant 
 myfelf.” 
 
 Lordfhip !—how extraordinary! that a nobleman, 
 accuftomed, in all probability, to the firft rank of 
 company in the kingdom, from his earlieft infancy, 
 can poflibly be deficient in goad manners, however 
 faulty in morals and principles! Even Sir Clement 
 Willoughby appeared modeit in comparifon with 
 this perfon. 
 
 During tea, a converfation was commenced up- 
 on the times, fafhions, and public places, in which 
 the company of both tables joined. It began by Sir 
 Clement's inquiring of Mils Mirvan and of me, if 
 the Pantheon had anfwered our expeétations. 
 
 We both readily agreed that it had greatly ex- 
 ceeded them. 
 
 “ Ay, 
 
EA\VéE Li PNVAg £25 
 
 “« Ay, to be fure,”’ faid the Captain, « why, you 
 don’t {uppofe they'd confefs they didn’t like it, do 
 yout » Whatever’s the fafhion, they muit like of 
 courfe ;—or elfe, I’d be bound for it, they'd own, 
 that there never was fuch a dull place as this here 
 invented,” 
 
 *« And has, then, this building,” faid Lord Or- 
 
 ville, ‘ no merit that may ferve to leffen your cen- 
 fure? Will not your eye, Sir, fpeak fomething in 
 its favour!” 
 «« Eye!” cried the Lord, (I don’t-know his naine,) 
 and is there any eye here, that can find pleafure 
 in. looking at dead walls or ftatues, when fuch 
 heavenly hving objeés as I now fee demand all theis 
 admiration #” 
 
 ‘« O, certainly,” faid Lord Orville, ‘the lifelefs 
 fymmetry of archite@ture, however beautiful the de- 
 fign and proportion, no man would be fo mad as 
 to put in competition with the animated charms of 
 nature: but when, as to-night, the eye may be re- 
 galed at the fame time, and in one view, with all 
 the excellence of art, and all the perfe@tion of na- 
 ture, I cannot think that either fuffer by being feen 
 together.” : , 
 
 “I grant, my Lord,” faid Sir Clement, “ that 
 the cool eye of unimpaffioned philofophy may view 
 both with equal attention, and equal fafety ; but, 
 where the heart is not fo well guarded, it is apt to 
 interfere, and render, even to the eye, all objects’ 
 but one infipid and uninterefting.” 
 
 “« Aye, aye,” cried the Captain, “‘ you may talk 
 what you will of your eye here, and your eye there, 
 and, for the matter of that, to be fure, you have 
 two,—but we all know they both fquint one way.” 
 
 «« Far be it from me,” faid Lord Orville, «to ditt 
 pute the magnetic power of beauty, which irrefillibly 
 draws and attra&ts whatever has foul and fympathy:: 
 and I am happy to acknowledge, that thaugh we 
 lave Mow no geds to occupy a manfion profeliedly 
 
 built 
 
 “6 
 
 Ww 
 
126 EVEL PNTAS 
 
 built for them, yet we have fecured their better 
 halves, for we have goddeffes to whom we all moft 
 willingly bow down.” And then, with a very droll 
 air, he made a profound reverence to the ladies. 
 
 «© They'd need be goddeffes with a vengeance,” 
 faid the Captain, ‘* for they’re mortal dear to look 
 at. Howfomever, I fhould be glad to know what 
 you can fee in e’er a face among them that’s worth 
 half-a-guinea fora fight.” 
 
 « Half-a-guinea !” exclaimed that fame Lord, “I 
 would give half I am worth for a fight of only ane, 
 provided | make my own choice. . And, prithee, 
 how can money be better employed than in the fer- 
 vice of fine women ?” 
 
 ‘Ifthe ladies of his own party can pardon the 
 Captain’s fpeech,” faid Sir Clement, “ I think he 
 has a fair claim to the forgivenefs of all.” 
 
 «© Then you depend very much, as I doubt not 
 but you may,” faid Lord Orville, upon the ge- 
 neral fweetnefs of the fex ;—but, as to the ladies of 
 the Captain’s party, they may eafily pardon, for they 
 cannot be hurt.” 
 
 «« But they muft have a devilifh good conceit of 
 themfelves, though,” faid the Captain, ‘* to believe 
 all that. Howfomever, whether or no, I fhould 
 be glad to be told by fome of you, who feem to be 
 knowing in them things, what kind of diverfion can 
 be found in fuch a place as this here, for one who 
 ‘has had, long ago, his full of face-hunting ¢” 
 
 Every body laughed, but nobody fpoke. 
 
 « Why, look you there, now,” continued the 
 Captain, ‘* you're all at a dead ftand!—not a man 
 among you can anfwer that there queftion. Why, 
 then, I muft make bold to conclude, that you all come 
 here for no manner of purpofe but to {tare at one an- 
 other’s pretty faces:—though, for the matter of 
 that, half of ’em are plaguy ugly ;—and, as to t’other 
 half,—I believe it’s none of God’s manufaétory.” 
 
 « What 
 
EVELINA, 127 
 
 ** What the ladies may come hither for, Sir,” 
 faid Mr. Lovel, (ftroking his ruffles, and looking 
 down,) ‘* it would ill become us to determine ; but 
 as to we men, doubtlefs we can have no other view 
 than to admire them.” 
 
 «« If I ben’t miftaken,” cried the Captain, (look- 
 ing earneitly in his face,) ‘* you are that fame per- 
 fon we faw at Love for Love t’other night ; ben’t 
 you ?” 
 
 Mr. Lovel bowed. 
 
 «‘ Why, then, Gentlemen,” continued he, with 
 a loud laugh, «I mutt tell you a moft excellent 
 good joke ;—when all was over, as fure as you're 
 alive, he afked what the play was! Ha, ha, ha!” 
 
 ‘© Sir,” faid Mr. Lovel, colouring, “ if you were 
 as much ufed to a town-life as I am,—which, I pre- 
 fume, is not precifely the cafe,—I fancy you would 
 not find fo much diverfion from a circumftance fo 
 common.” 
 
 «« Common ! what, is it common?” repeated the 
 Captain; ‘ why then, ’fore George, fuch chaps 
 are more fit to be fent to fchool, and weil difciplin- 
 ed with a cat-o’-nine-tails, than to poke their heads 
 into a play-houfe. Why, a play is the only thing 
 left, now-a-days, that has a grain of fenfe in it; 
 for as to all the reft of your public places, d’ye fee, 
 if they were all put together, I wouldn't give that 
 for em!” fnapping his fingers. And now we're 
 talking of them fort of things, there’s your operas, 
 —I fhould like te know, now, what any of you can 
 find to fay for them.” 
 
 Lord Orville, who was moft able to have anfwer- 
 ed, feemed by no means to think the Captain wor- 
 thy an argument upon a fubje@ concerning which 
 he had neither knowledge nor feeling: but, turning 
 to us, he faid, ** The ladies are filent, and we feem 
 to have engrofled the converfation to ourfelves, in 
 which we are much more our own enemies than 
 theirs. But,” addrefling himfelf to Mifs Mirvan 
 
 and 
 
128 RAW ET LEI TAN 
 
 and me, “1 am moft defirous to hear the opinions 
 of thefe young ladies, to whom all public places mutt, 
 as yet, be new.” 
 
 We both, and with eagernefs, declared that we 
 had received as‘much, if not more pleafure, at the 
 opera than any where: but we had better have been 
 filent ; for the Captain, quite difpleafed, faid, «* What 
 fignifies afking them girls? Do you think they know 
 their own minds yet? Afk ‘em after any thing 
 that’s called diverfion, and you're fure they'll fay it’s 
 vaftly fine —they area fet of parrots, and fpeak by 
 rote, for they all fay the fame thing: but afk ‘em 
 how they like making puddings. and pies, and Ill 
 warrant you'll pofe ‘em. As to them operas, I 
 defire I may hear no more of their liking fuch non- 
 fenfe; and for you, Moll,” to his daughter, «1 
 charge you, as you value my favour, that you'll 
 never again be fo impertinent as to have a tafte of 
 your own before my face. “There are fools enough 
 in the world, without your adding to their number. 
 I'll have no daughter of mine affect them fort of 
 megrims. It isa fhame they a’n’t put down; and 
 if I'd my will, there’s not a magiftrate in this town 
 but fhould be knocked of the head for fuffering them. 
 If you’ve a mind to praife any thing, why you may 
 praife a play, and welcome, for I like it myfelf.” 
 
 This reproof effeCtually filenced us both for the 
 reft of the evening. Nay, indeed, for fome mi- 
 nutes it feemed to filence every body elfe ; till Mr. 
 Lovel, not willing to lofe an opportunity of return- 
 ing the Captain’s farcafm, faid, ‘* Why, really Sir, 
 it is but natural to be moft pleafed with what is 
 moft familiar ; and, I think, of all our diverfions, 
 there is not one fo much in common between us and 
 the country asa play. Not a village but has its 
 barns and comedians ; and as for the ftage bufinefs, 
 why it may be pretty equally done any where; and 
 even in regard to us, and the canazile, confined as 
 we all are within the femi-circle of a theatre, 
 
 there 
 
EVELINA. 129 
 
 there is no place where the diftin@ion is lefs ob- 
 vious.” 
 
 While the Captain feemed confidering for Mr. 
 Lovel’s meaning, Lord Orville, probably with a 
 view to prevent his finding it, changed the fubje& 
 to Cox’s Mufeum, and afked what he thought of it? 
 
 «¢ Think !—” faid he, ‘* why I think as how it 
 i’n’t worth thinking about. I like no fuch jem- 
 ‘cracks. It is only fit, in my mind, for monkeys ;—~ 
 though, for aught 1 know, they too might turn up 
 their nofes at it.” 
 
 “« May we afk your Lordthip’s own opinion ?” 
 faid Mrs. Mirvan. 
 
 ‘© The mechanifin,” anfwered he, ‘is wonder- 
 fully ingenious: I am forry it is turned to no better 
 account ; but its purport if fo frivolous, fo very re- 
 mote from all aim at inftruétion or utility, that the 
 fight ef fo fine a fhow only leaves a regret on the 
 mind, that fo much work, and fo much ingenuity 
 fhould not be better beftowed. 
 
 «The truth is,” faid the Captain, “that in all 
 this huge town, fo full as it is of folks of all forts, 
 there i'‘n’t fo much as one public place, befides the 
 play-houfe, where a man, that’s to fay, a man who 
 7s a man, ought not to be afhamed to fhow his face. 
 T’other day they got me to a ridotto ; but J believe 
 it will be long enough before they get me to another. 
 I knew no more ‘what to do with myfelf, than if 
 my fhip's company had been metamorpholed into 
 Frenchmen. . Then, again, there’s your famous 
 Ranelagh, that you make fuch a fufs about ;—wh 
 what a dull place is that !—it’s the worft of all.” 
 
 ‘Ranelagh dull!”—<« Ranelagh dull!’ — was 
 echoed from mouthto mouth; and all the ladies, as 
 if of onc accord, regarded the Captain with looks 
 of the moft ironical contempt. 
 
 «« As to Ranelagh,” faid Mr. Lovel, “ moft in- 
 dubitably, though the price is plebeian, it is by no. 
 means adapted to the plebeian tafte. It requires a 
 
 : certain 
 
130 EVELINA. 
 
 certain acquaintance with high life, and—and— 
 and fomething of—of—fomething d'un vrai gout, 
 to be really fenfible of its merit. Thofe whofe— 
 whofe conne€tions, and fo forth, are not among /es 
 gens comme il faut, can fee] nothing but ennué at fuch 
 a place as Ranelagh.” 
 
 ‘‘ Ranelagh!” cried Lord ——, ‘ O, ’tis the 
 divineft place under heaven, or, indeed,—for, 
 aught I know. i 
 
 *¢© you creature!” cried a pretty, but affeéted 
 young lady, patting him with her fan, “ you fha’n’t 
 talk fo; I know what you are going to fay ; but, 
 pofitively, I wo'n’t fit by you, if you're fo wicked.” 
 
 * And how can one fit by you, and be good?” 
 faid he, «* when only to look at you is enough to 
 make one wicked—or wifh to be fo ?” 
 
 «« Fie, my Lord !” returned fhe, ‘* you are really 
 infufferable. I don’t think I hall {peak to you 
 again thefe feven years.” 
 
 «© What a metamorphofis,” cried Lord Orville, 
 «« fhould you make a patriarch of his Lordfhip!” 
 
 «« Seven years!” faid he, ** dear Madam, be con- 
 tended with telling me you will not fpeak to me 
 after {even years, and I will endeavour to fubmit.” 
 3 << O, very well, my Lord,” anfwered fhe, ‘* pray 
 date the end of our {peaking to each other as early as 
 you pleafe, I'll promife to agree to your time.” 
 
 “You know, dear Madam,” faid he, fipping his 
 tea, ‘* you know I only live in your fight.” 
 
 «<Q yes, my Lord, I have long known that. But 
 I begin to fear we fhall be too late for Ranelagh this 
 evening,” 
 
 «OQ no, Madam,” faid Mr. Lovel, looking at 
 his watch, ‘¢ it is but juft paft ten.” 
 
 **No more,” cried fhe, “*O then we fhall do 
 very well.” 
 
 All the ladies now ftarted up, and declared, they 
 had no time to lofe. 
 
 ns Why; 
 
EVELINA. 131 
 «© Why, what the D 1,” cried the Captain, 
 
 leaning forward with both his arms on the table, 
 ‘“« are you going to Renelagh at this time of night!” 
 
 The ladies looked at one another, and: fmiled. 
 
 “«To Ranelagh?” cried Lord ——, ‘* Yes, and 
 I hope you are going too; for we cannot poflibly 
 excufe thefe ladies.” 
 
 «« I go to Ranelagh?—if I do, I'll be 
 
 Every body now ftood up; and the ftranger lord, 
 coming round to me, faid, ‘ You go, I hope?” 
 
 “No, my Lord, I believe not.” 
 
 “©O you cannot, mutt not be fo barbarous.” And 
 he took my hand, and ran on, faying fuch fine 
 {peeches and compliments, that I might almoft have 
 fuppofed myfelf a goddefs, and him a pagan paying 
 me adoration, As foon as I poffibly could, I drew 
 back my hand ; but he frequently, in the courfe of 
 conyerfation, contrived to take it again, though it 
 was extremely difagreeable to me ; and the more fo, 
 as I faw that Lord Orville had his eyes fixed upon 
 us, with a gravity of attention that made me uneafy. 
 
 And, furely, my dear Sir, it was a great liberty 
 in this lord, notwithftanding his rank, to treat me 
 fo freely. As to Sir Clement, he feemed in mifery. 
 
 They all endeavoured to prevail with the Captain 
 to join the Ranelagh party ; and this lord told me, in 
 a low voice, that 7¢ was tearing his heart out to go 
 without me. 
 
 During this converfation Mr. Lovel came for- 
 ward, and afluming a look of furprife, made me a 
 bow, and inquired how [I did, protefting upon his 
 honour, that he had not feen me before, or would 
 fooner have paid his refpeéts to me. 
 
 Though his politenefs was evidently conftrained, 
 yet? was very glad to be thus affured of having no- 
 thing more to fear from him. 
 
 The Captain, far from liftening to their perfua- 
 fions of accompanying them to Ranelagh, was quite 
 
 1B 
 
 ” 
 
132 EVELINA. 
 
 in a paffion at the propofal, and vated he would 
 fooner go to the Black-hole in Calcutt 
 
 «* But,” faid Lord » **if-the ladies will take 
 their tea at Ranelagh, you may depend upon our 
 feeing them fafe home ; for we thal all be proud of 
 the honour of at tending them.” 
 
 ‘* May be fo,” faid the Captain, but I'll tell 
 you what, if one of thefe places ben’t enough for 
 them to-ni; ght, why to-morrow they fhall go to 
 ne'er a one.” 
 
 We inftantly declared ourfelves very ready to go 
 home. 
 
 «Tt is not for youstelves that we petition,” faid 
 Lord “ bat for us; if you have any charity; 
 you will ties be fo cruel as to deny us ; we only beg 
 you to prolong our happinefs for a few minutes,— 
 the favour is but a fmall one for you to grant, though 
 fo great a one for us to receive. ® 
 
 *« To tell you a piece of my mind,” faid the Cap- 
 tain, furlily, ** I think you might as well not give 
 the girls fo much of this palaver: they’ll take it t all 
 for gofpel. As to Moll, why fhe’s well enough, 
 but nothing extraordinary ; though, perhaps, you 
 may perfuade her that her pug nofe is all the fa- 
 fhion: and as to the other, why fhe’s good. white 
 and red, to be fure; but what of that? Ill war- 
 rant fhe’ll moulder away as faft as her neighbours.” 
 
 *« Ts there,” cried Lord » ** another man in 
 this place, who, feeing fuch objects, could make 
 fuch a fpeech ?” 
 
 «« As to that there,” returned the Captain, “I 
 don’t know whether there be or no, and, to make 
 free, I don’t care; for I fha’n’t go for to model my= 
 felf by any of thefe fair-weather chaps, who dare 
 not fo much as fay their fouls are their own,—and 
 for aught I know, no more they ben't. I’m almoft 
 as much athamed of my countrymen as if I was a 
 Frenchman, and I believe in my heart therei'n’ta 
 pin to choofe between them ; and, before long, we 
 
 fhall 
 
 > 
 
EVELINA. 138 
 
 fhall hear the very failors talking that lingo, and fee 
 never a {wabber without a bag and a {word.” 
 
 «« He, he, he!—well ’pon honour,” cried Mr. 
 Lovel, ** you gentlemen of the ocean have a moft 
 fevere way of judging.” 
 
 ‘* Severe! ’fore George, that is impoflible ; for, 
 to cut the matter fhort, the men, as they call them- 
 felves, are no better than monkeys; and as to the 
 women, why they are mere dolls. So now you've 
 got my opinion of this fubjec&t ; and fo I with you 
 good night.’ 
 
 The ladies: who were yery impatient to be gone, 
 made their courtefies, and tripped away, followed 
 by all the gentlemen of their party, except the lord 
 I have beforé mentioned, and Lord Orville, who 
 ftayed to make inquiries of Mrs. Mirvan concerning 
 our leaving town; and then faying, with bis ufual 
 politenefs, fomething civil to ‘each of us, witha 
 very grave air he quitted us. 
 
 Lord —— remained fome minutes longer, which 
 he fpent in making a profufion of compliments to 
 me ; by which he prevented my hearing diftinétly 
 what Lord Orville faid, to my great vexation, efpe- 
 cially as he looked—I thought fo, at leaft,—as if 
 difpleafed at his particularity. of behaviour to me. 
 
 In going to an outward room to wait for the car- 
 riage, I walked, and could not poflibly avoid it, 
 between this nobleman and Sir Clement Willough- 
 by ; and, when the fervant faid the coach ftopped 
 the way, though the latter offered me his hand, 
 which I fhould: much have preferred, this fame Lord, 
 without any ceremony, took mine himfelf ; and Sir 
 Clement, with a look extremely provoked, .con+ 
 ducted Mrs. Mirvan. 
 
 In all ranks and all ftations of life, how ftrangel 
 do characters and manners differ! Lord Orville, 
 with a politenefs which knows no intermiffion, and 
 makes no diftinGtion, is as unaffuming and modeft 
 as if he had never mixed with the great, and was 
 
 totally 
 
wy 
 
 134 EVELINA. 
 
 totally ignorant of every qualification he poffeffes ; 
 this other Lord, though lavifh of compliments and 
 fine fpeeches, feenis to me an entire {tranger to real 
 good-breeding: whoever {trikes his fancy, engrofles 
 his whole attention. He is forward and bold; has 
 an air of haughtinefs towards -men, and a look of 
 libertinifm towards women ; and his confcious qua- 
 lity feems to have given a freedom in his way of 
 fpeaking to either fex, that is very little fhort of 
 rudenefs. 
 
 When we returned home, we were all low-fpirit- 
 ed. The evening’s entertainment had difpleafed 
 the Captain; and his difpleafure, I believe, dif- 
 concerted us all. 
 
 And here I thought to have concluded my letter ; 
 but, to my great furprife, juft now we had a vifit 
 from Lord Orville. He called, he faid, to pay his 
 refpects to us before we left town, and made many 
 inquiries concerning our return; and, when Mrs. 
 Mirvan told him we were going into the country 
 without any view of again quitting it, he exprefled 
 his concern in fuch terms—fo polite, fo flattering, 
 fo ferious—that I could hardly forbear being forry 
 myfelf. Were I to go immediately to: Berry Hill, 
 I am fure I fhould feel nothing but joy ;—but now 
 we are joined by this Captain and by Madame Du- 
 val, I muft own I expeé& very little pleafure at 
 Howard Grove. 
 
 Before. Lord Orville went, Sir Clement Wil- 
 loughby called. He was more grave than I ever had 
 feen him ; and made feveral attempts to {peak to me 
 in a low voice, and to aflure me that his regret upon 
 the occafion of our journey was entirely upon my 
 account. But I was not in fpirits, and could not 
 bear to be teafed by him. However, he has fo 
 well paid his court to Captain Mirvan, that he gave 
 him a very hearty invitation to the Grove. At 
 this he brightened,—and juft then Lord. Orville 
 took leave. 
 
 Ne 
 
EVELINA, 135 
 
 No doubt but he was difgufted at this ill-timed, 
 ill-bred partiality; for furely it was very wrong to 
 make an invitation before Lord Orville in which he 
 was not included! I was fo much chagrined, that, 
 as fvon as he went, I left the room; and I fhall 
 not go down ftairs till Sir Clement is gone. 
 
 Lord Orville cannot but obferve his afliduous 
 endeavours to ingratiate himfelf into my favour ; 
 and does not this extravagant civility of Captain 
 Mirvan give him reafon to fuppofe that it meets 
 with our general approbation ? I cannot think upon 
 this fubject without inexpreffible uneafinefs ;-—and 
 yet I can think of nothing elfe. 
 
 Adieu, my deareft Sir. Pray write to me im- 
 mediately. How many long letters has this one 
 fhort fortnight produced ! More than I may pro- 
 bably ever write again. I fear I fhall have tired you 
 with reading them ; but you will now have time to 
 reft, for I fhall find but little to fay in future. 
 
 And now, moft honoured Sir, with all the follies 
 and imperfections which I have thus faithfully re- 
 counted, can you, and with unabated kindnefs, 
 fuffer me to fign myfelf 
 
 Your dutiful 
 and moft affefionate 
 EveLtina? 
 
 EEE 
 
 eb PER eee 
 Mr. Vitiars to Eveninas 
 
 Berry Hill, April 22, 
 
 How much do I rejoice that I can again ad- 
 
 drefs my letters to Howard Grove! My Evelina 
 would have grieved had fhe known. the anxiety of 
 my mind, during her refidence in the great world. 
 My apprehenfions have been inexpreflibly alarming ; 
 and your journal, at once exciting and relieving my 
 fears, 
 
136 EVELINA. 
 
 fears, has almoft wholly occupied me fince the time 
 of your dating it from London. 
 
 Sir Clement Willoughby muft be an artful de- 
 figning man: I am extremely irritated at his con- 
 du&. The paffion he pretends for you has neither 
 fincerity nor honour; thé manner and the oppor 
 tunities he has chofen to declare it, are bordering 
 upon infult. 
 
 His unworthy behaviour after the opera, convinces 
 me, that, had not your vehemence frightened him, 
 Queen-Ann-{treet would have been the laft place 
 whither he would have ordered his chariot. O, my 
 child, how thankful am I for your efcape! I need 
 not now, I am fure, enlarge upon your indifcretion 
 and want of thought in fo haftily trufting yourfelf 
 with a man fo little known to you, and whofe gaiety 
 and flightinefs fhould have put you on your guard. 
 
 The nobleman you met at the Pantheon, bold 
 and forward as you defcribe him to be, gives me no 
 apprehenfion ; a man who appears fo openly li- 
 centious, and who makes his attack with folittle 
 segard to decorum, is one who, to a mind fuch as 
 my Evelina’s, can never be feen but with the difgult 
 which his manners ought to excite. 
 
 But Sir Clement, though he feeks eccafion to give 
 real offence, contrives to avoid all appearance of in- 
 tentional evil. He is far more dangerous, becaufe 
 more artful: but I am happy to obferve, that he 
 feems to have made no impreflion upon your heart ; 
 and therefore a very little care and prudence may 
 fecure you from thofe defigns which J fear he has 
 formed. 
 
 Lord Orville appears to be of a better order of 
 beings. His {pirited conduét to the meanly imper- 
 tinent Lovel, and his anxiety for you after the operas, 
 
 rove him to be a man of fenfe and of feeling, 
 Doubtlefs he thought there was much reafon to 
 tremble for your fafety while expofed to the power 
 of Sir Clement ; and he acted with a regard. to real 
 honour, 
 
EVELYN As #37 
 
 honour, that will always incline me to think well of 
 him, in fo immediately acquainting the Mirvan 
 family with your fituation. Many men of this age, 
 from a falfe and pretendec ddelicacy toa friend, would 
 have quietly purfued their own affairs, and thought 
 it more honourable to leave an unfufpeGting young 
 creature to the mercy ofa libertine, than to rifk his 
 difpleafure by taking meafures for her fecurity. 
 
 Your evident concern at leaving London is very 
 natural, and yet it aiflidisme. I ever dreaded your 
 being too much pleaf ed with a life of diffi ipation, 
 which youth and vivacity render but too alluring 5 
 and J almoft regret the confent for your journey, 
 which I had not the refolution to withhold. 
 
 Alas, my child, the artlefinefs of your nature, 
 and the fimplicity of your education, alikeaunfit you 
 for the thorny paths of the great and bufy world. 
 The fuppofed obicurity of your birth and fituation, 
 makes you liable to a thoufand difagreeable ad- 
 ventures. Not only my views, but my hopes for 
 your future life, have ever centered in the country. 
 Shall I own to you, that, however I. may differ 
 from Captain Mirvan in other refpeGs, yet my 
 opinion of the town, its manners, inhabitants, and 
 diverfions, is much upon a level with his own? In- 
 deed itis the general harbour of fraud and of folly, of 
 duplicity and of impertinence ; and I with few 
 things more fervently, than that you may have taken 
 a laiting leave of it, 
 
 Remember, however, that I only {peak in regard 
 to a public and diffipated life ; in private families 
 we may doubtlefs find as much goodnefs, honetty, 
 and virtue in London as in the country. 
 
 If contented with a retired {tation, I ftill hope f 
 fhall live to fee my Evelina the ornament of her 
 neighbourhood, and the pride and delight. of her: 
 family ; ; giving and receiving joy from fuch fociety 
 as may beft deferve her affection, and employing 
 herfelf in fuch ufeful and innocent occupations a3 
 
 may 
 
198 EVELINA. 
 
 may fecure and merit the tendereft love of her 
 friends, and the worthieft fatisfaction of her own 
 heart. 
 
 Such are my hopes, and fuch have been my ex- 
 pectations. Difappoint them not, my _ beloved 
 child; but cheer me with a few lines, that may af- 
 fure me, this one thort fortnight fpent in town has 
 not undone the work of feventeen years fpent in the 
 country. 7 
 
 ARTHUR VILLARS, 
 
 LETTER XV; 
 
 Evewina ¢o the Rev. Mr. Vir arse 
 
 Howard Grove, April 2¢, 
 No , my dear Sir, no: the work of feventeen 
 years remains fuch as it was, ever unworthy your 
 time and your labour; but not more fo now—at 
 leaft I hope not,—than before that fortnight which 
 has fo much alarmed you. 
 
 And yet I muft confefs that I am not half fo happy 
 here at prefent as I was ere I went to town: but 
 the change is in the place, not in me. Captain 
 Mirvan and Madame Duval have ruined Howard 
 Grove. The harmony that reigned here is difturb- 
 ed, our fchemes are broken, our way of life is al- 
 tered, and our comfort is deftroyed. But do not 
 calf fuppofe London to be the fource of thefe evils; for, 
 
 | had our excurfion been any where elfe, fo difagree- 
 able an addition to our houfehold mutt have caufed 
 the fame change at our return. 
 
 T was fure you would be difpleafed with Sir Cle- 
 ment Willoughby, and therefore I am by no means 
 furprifed at what you fay of him; but for Lord Or- 
 ville—I muft own I had greatly feared that my 
 weak and imperfect account would not have pro- 
 
 cured 
 
EVIE LIN A, 139 
 eured him the good opinion which he fo well de- 
 ferves, ard which I am delighted to find you feem 
 to have of him. ©, Sir, could I have done jultice 
 to the merit of which I believe him poiletied ;— 
 could I have painted him to you fuch as he appeared 
 to me ;—then, indeed, you wouJd have had fome 
 idea of the claim which he has to your approbation! 
 
 After the laft latter which I wrote in town, no- 
 thing more pailed previous to our journey hither ex- 
 cept a very violent quarrel between Captain Mirvan 
 and Madame Duval. As the Captain intended to 
 travel on horfeback, he had fettled that we four 
 females fhould make ufe of his coach. Madame 
 Duval did not come to Queen-Ann-ftreet till the 
 carriage had waited fome time at the door: and then, 
 attended by Monfieur Du Bois, fhe made her ap- 
 pearance. 
 
 The Captain, impatient to be gone, would not 
 fuffer them to enter the houfe, but infifted that we 
 fhould immediately get into the coach. We obeyed ; 
 hut were no fooner feated, than Madame Duval 
 faid, ** Come, Monfieur Du Bois, thefe girls can 
 make very good room for you: fit clefer, children.” 
 
 Mrs. Mirvan looked quite confounded; and M, 
 Du Bois, after making fome apologies about 
 crowding us, actually got into the coach, on the 
 fide with Mifs Mirvan and me. But no fooner was 
 he feated, than the Captain, who had obferved this 
 tranfaction very quietly, walked up to the coach- 
 door, faying, ‘* What, neither with your leave, 
 not by your leave?” 
 
 M. Du Bois feemed rather fhocked, and began to 
 make abundance of excufes: but the Captain neither 
 underftood nor regarded him, and, very roughly, 
 faid, ‘* Look’ee, Monjeer, this here may bea French 
 fafhion for aught I know,—but give and take is fair 
 in all nations ; and fonow, d’ye fee, Ill make bold | 
 
 And 
 
 to fhow you an Englifh one,” 
 
1f0 EV EL UNAS 
 
 And then, feizing his wrift, he made him jump 
 out of the coach. 
 
 M. Du Bois inftantly put his hand upon his 
 f{word, and threatened to refent this indignity. The 
 Captain, holding up his ftick, bid him draw at his 
 peril. Mrs. Mirvan, greatly alarmed, got out of 
 the coach, and, ftanding between them, intreated 
 her hufband to re-enter the houfe. 
 
 «« None of your clack !’’ cried he angrily ; ‘* what 
 the D—I, do you fuppofe I can’t manage a French- 
 man: 
 
 Mean time, Madame Duval called out to M. Du 
 Bois, ‘ Eh, laifjez-le, mon ami, ne le corriges pas 5 
 cefi un vilain béte qui n’en vaut pas la peine.” 
 
 ‘© Monfieur le Capitaine, cried M. Du Bois, vou- 
 Jex-vous bien me demander pardon 2?” 
 
 *©O ho, you demand pardon, do you?” faid the 
 Captain, ‘I thought as much; I thought you'd 
 come to ;—fo you have loft your relifh for an Eng- 
 lth falutation, have you?” ftrutting up to him with 
 looks of defiance. 
 
 A crowd was now gathering, and Mrs. Mirvar 
 again befought her hufband to go into the houfe. 
 
 «Why, what a plague is the woman afraid of? 
 —Did you ever know a Frenchman that could not 
 take an affront!—I warrant MMcnfeer knows what 
 he is about ;—don’t you, Menfeer 2” 
 
 M. Du Bois, not underftanding him, only faid, 
 « plait-il, Monfieur ?” 
 
 “No, nor difh me neither,” anfwered the Cap- 
 tain; ‘but, be that as it may, what fignifies our 
 parleying here? If you've any thing to propofe, 
 {peak at once ; ifnot, why let us go on our journey 
 without more ado.” 
 
 “ Parbleu, je nentends rien, moi!” cried M. Du 
 _ Bois, fhrugging up his fhoulders, and looking very 
 difmal. 
 
 Mrs, Mirvan then advanced to him, and faid in 
 Fyench, that fhe was fure the Captain had not any in- 
 tention 
 
EVELINA. 141 
 
 tention to affront him, and begged he would defift 
 from a difpute which could only be produétive of 
 mutual mifunderftanding, as neither of them knew 
 the language of the other. 
 
 This fenfible remonftrance had the defired effect ; 
 and M. Du Bois, making a bow to every one except 
 the Captain, very wifely gave up the point, and 
 took leave. 
 
 We then hoped to proceed quiet] ly our journey ; 
 
 but the turbulent Captain would not yet permit us. 
 He approached Madame Duval with an exulting 
 air, and faid, ** Why, how’s this, Madam? w bar 
 has your champion deferted you? why, [ thought 
 you ‘told me, that you old gentlewomen had it all 
 your own way among them “French {parks ?” 
 
 ‘© As to that, Gene, anfwered fhe, ‘it’s net. of 
 no confequence what you thought; for a perfon 
 who can behave in fuch a low way, may think 
 what he pleafes for me, for I tha’n’t mind,’ 
 
 «© Why then, Mittrefs, fince you muft. needs 
 make fo free,” cried he, ‘* pleafe to tell me the rea- 
 fon why yon took the liberty for to afk any of your 
 followers into my coach without my leave? Anf{wer 
 me to that.” 
 
 «« Why, then, pray Sir,” returned fhe, * tell me 
 the reafon why you took the liberty to treat the gen- 
 tleman in fuch an unpolite way, as to take and pull 
 him neck and heels out? I’m fure he hadn’t done 
 nothing to affront yeu, nor nobody elfe ;. and I 
 don’t know what great hurt he would have done 
 you, by jut fitting fill in the coach: he would not 
 have eat it.” 
 
 “« What, do you think, then, that my horfes 
 have nothing to do but to carry about your fnivel- 
 ling F renchmen? If you do, Madam, I muft make 
 bold to tell you you are out, for I'll fee ’em hang’d 
 fir(t.”’ 
 
 « More brute you, then! for they’ve never car- 
 ried nobody half fo good.” 
 
 “6 Why, 
 
142 EVELINA. 
 
 «< Why, look’ee, Madam, if you mult needs pro- 
 voke me, I'll tellyou a piece of my mind: you mutt 
 know, I can fee as far into a millftone as another 
 man; and fo, if you thought for to fobb me off 
 with one of your {mirking French puppies fora fon- 
 in-law, why you'll find yourfelf in a hobble, that’s 
 all.” 
 
 «: Sir, you’re a———but I wo’n’t fay what ;— 
 but I proteft I hadn’t no fuch a thought, no more 
 hadn't Monfieur Du Bois.” i 
 
 “« My dear,” faid Mrs. Mirvan, ¢* we fhall be 
 very late.” 
 
 «© Well, well,” anfwered he, ** get away, then; 
 off with you as faft as you can, it’s high time. As 
 to Molly, fhe’s fine lady enough in all confcience ; 
 I want none of your French chaps to make her 
 worfé.” 
 
 And fo faying, he mounted his horfe and we 
 drove off. And I could not but think, with regret, 
 of the different feelings we experienced upon lea- 
 ving London, to what had belonged to our enter- 
 ing it. 
 
 During the journey Madame Duval was fo very 
 violent againft the Captain, that fhe obliged Mrs, 
 Mirvan to-tell her, that, when in her prefence, 
 fhe muit beg her to choofe fome other fubject of 
 difcourfe. 
 
 We had a moft affe€tionate reception from Lady 
 Howard, whofe kindnefs and hofpitality cannot fail 
 of making every body happy who is difpofed fo 
 to be. 
 
 Adien, my deareft Sir. I hope, though I have 
 hitherto neglected to mention it, that you have al- 
 ways remembered me to whoever has made any in+ 
 quiry concerning me, 
 
LETTER -XXvVi. 
 Evevina to the Rev. Mr. Vicars. 
 
 Howard Grove, April 27, 
 
 O my dear Sir, I now write in the greateft 
 uneafinefs! Madame Duval has made a propofal 
 which terrifies me to death, and which was as un- 
 expected as it is fhocking. 
 
 She had been employed for fome hours this afters 
 noon in reading letters from London: and, juft 
 about tea-time, ‘the fent for me into her room, and 
 faid, with a look of great fatisfa€tion, “« Come here, 
 child, I’ve got fome very good news to tell you: 
 fomething that will furprife you, I'll give you my 
 word, for you ha’n't no notion of it.’ 
 
 I begged her to explain herfelf; and then, in 
 terms Which I cannot repeat, fhe faid fhe had been 
 confidering what a fhame it was to fee me fuch a 
 poor country, fhame-faced thing, when I ought to 
 be a fine lady ; ; and that the had long, and upon fe- 
 veral occafions, bluthed for me, tho” the muift own 
 the fault was none of mine: for nothing better 
 could be expected from a girl who had been fo im- 
 mured. However, fhe affured me fhe had, at length, 
 hit upon a plan, which would make quite another 
 creature of me. 
 
 I waited, without much impatience, to hear 
 what this preface led to; but I was foon awakened 
 to more lively fenfations, when fhe acquainted me, 
 that her intention was to prove my birthright, and 
 to claun, by law, the inheritance of my real family ! 
 
 It would be impoffible for me to exprefs my ex- 
 treme confternation when fhe thus unfolded her 
 fcheme. My furprife and terror were equally great ; 
 
 T could 
 
144. EVELINA. 
 
 I could fay nothing: I heard her with a filence 
 which I had not the power to break. 
 
 She then expatiated very warmly upon the ad- 
 vantages I fhould reap from her plan; talked ina 
 high ttyle of my future grandeur; affured me how 
 heartily I fhould defpife almoft every body and every 
 thing I had hitherto feen ; predi€ted my marrying 
 into fome family of the firft rank in the kingdom ; 
 and, finally, faid I fhould fpend a few months in 
 Paris, where my education and manners might re- 
 ceive their laft polifh. 
 
 She enlarged alfo upon the delight fhe fhould 
 have, in common with myfelf, from mortifying the 
 pride of certain people, and fhowing them that fhe 
 was not to be flighted with impunity. 
 
 In the midft of this difcourfe, I was relieved by 
 a fummons to tea. Madame Duval was in great 
 fpirits; but my emotion was too painful for con- 
 cealment, and every body enquired into the caufe, 
 I would fain have waved the fubje&, but Madame 
 Duval was determined to make it public. She told 
 them that fhe had it in her head to make fomething 
 of me, and that they fhould foon call me by another 
 name than that of Anville; and yet that fhe was not 
 going to have the child married neither, 
 
 1 could not endure to hear her proceed, and was 
 going to leave the room; which when Lady Howard 
 perceived, fhe begged Madame Duval would defer 
 her intelligence to fome other opportunity: but fhe 
 was fo eager to communicate her fcheme, that the 
 could bear no delay ; and therefore they fuffered me 
 to go without oppofition. Indeed, whenever my 
 {ituation or affairs are mentioned-by Madame Duval, 
 the {peaks of them with fuch bluntnefs and feverity, 
 that I cannot be enjoined a tafk more cruel than to 
 hear her. 
 
 I was afterwards acquainted with fome particu- 
 lars of the converfation by Mifs Mirvan; who told 
 me that Madame Duval informed them of her plan 
 
 . with 
 
EVELINA. 145 
 
 with the utmoft complacency, and feemed to think 
 herfelf very fortunate in having fuggefted it; but 
 foon after, fhe accidentally betrayed, that fhe had 
 been inftigated to the fcheme by her relations, the 
 Branghtons, whofe letters, which fhe received to- 
 day, firft mentioned the propofal. She declared that 
 fhe would have nothing to do with any round-about 
 ways, but go openly and inftantly to law, in orders 
 to prove my birth, real name, and title to the eftate 
 of my ancettors. 
 
 How impertinent and officious, in thefe Brangh- 
 tons, to interfere thus in my concerns! You can 
 hardly imagine what a difturbance this plan has 
 made in the family. The Captain, without in- 
 quiring into any particulars of the affair, has pers 
 emptorily declared himfelf againft it, merely becaufe 
 it has been propofed by Madame Duval; and they 
 have battled the point together with great violence. 
 Mrs. Mirvan fays, fhe will not even think til] the 
 hears your opinion. But Lady Howard, to my 
 great furprife, openly avows her approbation of Ma- 
 dame Duval’s intention: however, fhe will write 
 her reafons and fentiments upon the fubje& to you 
 herfelf. 
 
 As to Mifs Mirvan, fhe is my fecond felf, and 
 neither hopes nor fears butas I do. And as to me,— 
 I know niot what to fay, nor even what to with; I 
 have often thought my fate peculiarly cruel, to have 
 but one parent, and from that one to be banifhed 
 for ever ;—while, on the other fide, I have but too 
 well known and felt the propriety of the feparation, 
 And yet, you may much better imagine, than Ican 
 expre{s, the internal anguifh which fometimes op- 
 preffles my heart, when I refleét upon the ftrange in- 
 differency that muft occafion a father never to make 
 the leait inquiry after the health, the welfare, or 
 even the life, of his child! 
 
 O Sir, to me the lofs is nothing! -oreatly, 
 {weetly, and moft benevolently have you guarced 
 
 VOLE H me 
 
146 EVELINA. 
 
 me from feeling it ; but for Aim, I grieve indeed !— 
 I muft be divefted, not merely of all filial piety, but 
 of all humanity, could I ever think upon this fub- 
 ject, and not be wounded to the foul. 
 
 Again I muft repeat, I know not what to wih : 
 think for me, therefore, my deareft Sir, and fuffer 
 my doubting mind, that knows not which way to 
 direét its hopes, to be guided by your wifdom and 
 unerring counfel. 
 
 EVELINA. 
 
 LETTER XXVU. 
 Lady Howarn to the Rev. Mr. Virtars. 
 
 Dear Sir, Howard Grove. 
 
 I cannor give a greater proof of the high 
 opinion I have of your candour, than by the liberty 
 J am now going to take, of prefuming to offer you 
 advice, upon a fubje€t concerning which you have fo 
 juit a claim to a& for yourfelf: but T know you 
 have too unaffected a love of juftice, to be partially 
 tenacious of your own judgment. 
 
 Madame Duval has been propofing a fcheme 
 which has put us all in commotion, and againit 
 which, at firft, in common with the reft of my fa- 
 mily, I exclaimed ; but, upon more mature confide- 
 ration, | own my objections have almolt wholly 
 vanifhed. 
 
 This fcheme is no other than to commence a law- 
 fuit with Sir John Belmont, to prove the validity of 
 his marriage with Mifs Evelyn ; the neceffary con- 
 fequence of which proof will be, fecuring his for- 
 tune and eftate to his daughter. 
 
 And why, my dear Sir, fhould not this be? I 
 know that, upon firlt hearing, fuch a plan conveys 
 ideas that mult fhock you; but I know, too, that 
 
 your 
 
EVELINA. 147 
 
 your mind is fuperior to being governed by pre- 
 judices, or to oppofing any important caufe on ac- 
 ‘count of a few difagreeable attendant circum(tances. 
 
 Your lovely charge e, now fir{t entering into life, 
 has merit Which ought not to be buried in obfcurity. 
 She feems born for an ornament to the world. Na- 
 
 e has been bountiful to her of whatever fhe had 
 to beftow; and the peculiar attention you. have 
 given to her education, has formed her mind toa 
 ree of excellence, that in one fo young I have 
 fearce ever feen equalled. Fortune alone. has 
 hitherte been fparing of her gifts; and fhe, too, 
 now opens the way which leads to all that is left to 
 with for her. 
 
 What your reafons may have been, my good Sir, 
 for fo carefully concealing the birth, -name, and 
 pretenfions of this amiable girl, and forbearing to 
 make any claim upon Sir ‘ohn Belmont, I am to- 
 tally a ftranger to; but, without knowing, I refpect 
 them, from the high opinion | have of your cha- 
 racter and judgment: but I hope they are not in- 
 fuperable for I cannot but think, that it was never 
 defigned for one who feems meant to grace the 
 world, to have her life devoted to retirement, 
 
 Surely Sir John Belmont, wretch as he has 
 fhown himfelf, could never fee his acc omplifhed 
 daughter, and not be proud to own her, and eager 
 to fecure her the inheritance of his fortune. - T° he 
 admiration fhe met with in town, though merely the 
 effect of her external attractions, was fuch, that 
 Mrs. Mirvan affures me, fhe Vioald have had the 
 moft {plendid offers, had there not feemed to be 
 fome myftery in regard to her birth, which, fhe was 
 well informed, was aifliduoufly, though vainly, ell- 
 deavoured to be difcovered. 
 
 Can it be right, my dear Sir, that this promifing 
 young creature fhould be deprived of the fortune and 
 rank of life to whieh fhe is lawful lly intitled, and 
 which you have prepared her to fupport and to ufe 
 
 H fo 
 
 nn 
 
148 EVELINA, 
 
 fo nobly? To defpife riches, may, indeed, be phi- 
 lofophic ; but to difpenfe them worthily, mutt, 
 furely, be more beneficial to mankind. 
 
 Perhaps a few years, or indeed a much fhorter 
 time, may make this {cheme impraéticable : Sir John, 
 though yet young, leads’a life too diffipated for long 
 duration ; and, when too late, we may regret that 
 fomething was not fooner done ; for it will be next 
 to impoflible, after he is gone, to fettle or prove any 
 thing with his heirs and executors. 
 
 Pardon the earneftnefs with which I write my- 
 fenfe of this affair; but your charming ward has 
 made me fo warmly her friend, that I cannot be in- 
 different upon a fubje&t of fuch importance to her 
 future life. 
 
 Adieu, my dear Sir ;—fend me {peedily an anfwer 
 to this remonitrance, and believe me to be, &c. 
 
 M. Howarp.. 
 
 LETTER XXVIII. 
 
 Mr. Viurars to Lady Howarp. 
 
 Berry Hill, Maya. 
 Your letter, Madam, has opened a fource 
 
 of anxiety to which I look forward with dread, 
 and which, to fee.clofed, I fcarcely dare expe. I 
 am unwillmg to oppofe my opinion to that of your 
 Ladyihip ; nor, indeed, can J, but by arguments 
 which I believe will-rather rank me as an hermit, 
 ignorant of the world, and fit only for my cell, than 
 as a proper guardian, in an age fuch.as this, for an 
 accomplifhed young woman. Yet, thus called 
 upon, it behoves me to explain, and endeavour to 
 vindicate, the reafons by which I have been hitherto 
 
 uided. 
 
 ‘The mother of this dear child,-who was led to 
 deitruction by her.own imprudence, the hardnefs 
 of 
 
EVELINA, 149 
 
 of heart of Madame Duval, and the villany of Sir 
 John Belmont,—was once, what her da ighter’ is 
 now, the beft beloved of ny heart; and her me- 
 mory, fo long as iny own holds, I fhall love, mourn, 
 and honour! On the fatal day that her gentle foul 
 Jeft its manfion, and not many hours ere fhe ceafed 
 to breathe, J folemnly plighted my faith, That her 
 child, if i lived, feould know no father but myfelf, 
 or her ack nowledged hufband. 
 
 You cannot, Madam, fuppofe that I found much 
 difficulty in adhering to this promife, and forbearing 
 to make any claim upon Sir John Belmont. Could 
 I feel an affe@ion the moft paternal for this poor 
 fufferer, and not abominate her deftroyer? Could I 
 with to deliver to him, who had fo bafely betrayed 
 the mother, the helplefs and innocent offspring, 
 who, born in fo much forrow, feemed intitled to 
 all the compaffionate tendernefs of pity? 
 
 For many years, the name alone of that man, ac- 
 cidentally fpoken in my hearing, almoft divefted me 
 of my Chriftianity, and fearce could I forbear to ex- 
 ecrate him. Yet I fought not, neither did I defire, 
 to deprive him of his child, had he, with any ap- 
 pearance of contrition, or, indeed, of humanity, 
 endeavoured to become lefs unworthy fuch a ble. 
 fing ;—but he is a ftranger to all parental feelings, 
 and has, with a favage infenfibility, forborne to en- 
 quire even into the exiftence of this fweet orphan, 
 though the fituation of his injured wife was but too 
 well known to him. 
 
 You with to be acquainted with my intentions. 
 T mutt acknowledge they were {ich as 1 now per- 
 ceive would not be honoured with your Lady fhip’s 
 approbation: for though I have fumetimes thought 
 of prefenting Evelina to her father, and demanding 
 the juftice which is her due, yet, at other times, | 
 have both difdained and feared the application ; dif- 
 dained, left it fhould be refufed ; and feared, left it 
 fhould be accepted ! 
 
 Lady 
 
r50 EVELINA. 
 
 Lady Belmont, who was firmly perfuaded of her 
 approaching difloluti frequently and earnefily 
 befought me, that if her infant was a female, I 
 would not abandon her to the dire€tion of a man fo 
 wholly unfit to take the charge of her education ; 
 but, fhould fhe be importunately demanded, that I 
 would retire with her abroad, and carefully conceal 
 her from Sir John, till fome apparent change in his 
 fentiments and conduct fhould announce him lefs 
 improper for {uch a truft. ‘And often would fhe 
 fay, ‘* Should the poor babe have any feelings cor- 
 réfpondent with its mother’s, it will have no want 
 while under your protection.” Alas! fhe had no 
 fooner quitted it herfelf, than fhe was plunged into 
 a gulph of mifery, that {wallowed up her peace, 
 reputation, and life. 
 
 During the childhood of Evelina, I fuggefted a 
 thonfand plans for the fecurity of her birth-right ; 
 __but I as oftentimes rejected them. I was ina 
 perpetual conflict, between the defire that fhe fhould 
 have juftice done her, and the apprehenfion that, 
 while I improved her fortune, I fhould endanger 
 her mind. However, as her character began to be 
 formed, and her difpofition to be difplayed, my per- 
 plexity abated ; the road before me feemed lefs thorny 
 and intricate, and I thought I could perceive the 
 right path from the wrong: for, when I obferved 
 the artlefs opennefs, the ingenuous fimplicity of her 
 nature ; when I faw that her guilelefs and innocent 
 foul fancied all the world to be pure and difinterefted 
 as herfelf, and that her heart was open to every im- 
 preffion with which love, pity, or art might affail 
 it ;——then did I flatter myfelf, that to follow my 
 own inclination, and to fecure her welfare, was the 
 fame thing; fince, to expofe her to the fnares and 
 dangers inevitably encircling a houfe of which the 
 matter is diffipated and unprincipled, without the 
 vuidance of a mother, or any prudent and fenfible 
 
 female, feemed to me no Jefs than fuffering her to 
 ftumble 
 
EVELINA. 15 
 
 ftumble into fome dreadful pit, when the fun was in 
 its meridian, My plan, therefore, was not merely 
 to educate and to cherifh her as my own, but to 
 adopt her the heirefs of my {mall fortune, and to 
 beftow her upon fome worthy man, with whom fhe 
 might fpend her days in tranquillity, cheerfuJnefs, 
 and good-humour, untainted by vice, folly, or am- 
 bition. 
 
 So much for the time paft. Such have been the 
 motives by which I have been governed ; and I hope 
 they will be allowed not merely to account for, but 
 alfo to juftify, the condu€& which has refulted from 
 them, It now. remains to {peak of the time to come, 
 
 And here, indeed, I am fenfible of difficulties 
 which I almott defpair of furmounting according to 
 my wifhes. I pay the higheft deference'to your La- 
 dyfhip’s opinion, which it is exiremely painful to me 
 not to concur with; yet I am fo well acquainted 
 with your goodnefs, that I prefume to hope it would 
 not be abfolutely impoflible for me to offer fuch ar- 
 guments as might lead you to think with me, that 
 this young creature’s chance of happinefs feems 
 lefs doubtful in retirement, than it would be in the 
 gay and diffipated world, But why fhould I per- 
 plex your Ladyfhip with reafoning that can turn to 
 fo little account? for, alas! what arguments, what 
 perfuafions can I make ufe of, with any profpect 
 of fuccefs, to fuch a woman as Madame Duyal? 
 Her character, and the violence of her difpofition, 
 intimidate me from making the attempt: fhe is too 
 ignorant for inftruction, too obftinate for intreaty, 
 and too weak for reafon. 
 
 I will not, therefore, enter into a conte from 
 which I have nothing to expect but altercation and 
 impertinence. As foon would I difcufs the effe& 
 of found with the deaf, or the nature of colours 
 with the blind, as aim at illuminating with con- 
 viction a mind fo warped by prejudice, fo much the 
 flave of unruly and illiberal paffions. Unutfed as the 
 
 is 
 
152 EVELINA 
 
 is to control, perfuafion would but harden, and 
 oppofition incenfe her. I yield, therefore, to the 
 neceffity which compels my reluctant acquiefcence ; 
 and {hall now turn all my thoughts upon confidering 
 of fach methods for the conducting this enterprize, 
 us may be moft conducive to the happinefs of my 
 child, and leaft liable to wound her fenfibility. 
 
 The law-fuit, therefore, I wholly and abfolutely 
 difapprove. 
 
 Will you, my dear Madam, forgive the freedom 
 of an old man, if I own myfelf greatly furprifed, 
 that you could, even fora moment, liften toa plan fo 
 violent, fo public, fo totally repugnant to all female 
 delicacy? I am fatisfied your Ladyfhip has not 
 weighed this proje&. There was a time, indeed, 
 when, to affert the innocence of Lady Belmont, and 
 toblazon tothe world the wrongs, not guilt, by which 
 the fuffered, I propofed, nay attempted, a fimilar 
 plan: but then all affiftance and encouragement 
 was denied, How cruel to the remembrance I bear 
 of her woes isthis tardy refentment of Madame Du- 
 val! She was deaf to the voice cf Nature, though 
 fhe has hearkened to that of Ambition. 
 
 Never can I confent to have this dear and timid 
 girl brought forward to the notice of the world by 
 
 {ech a method; a method which will fubjeé& her to 
 all the impertinence of curiofity, the fneers of con- 
 *jeCture, and the ftings of ridicule. And for what? 
 —the attainment of wealth which fhe does not want, 
 and the gratification of vanity which fhe does not 
 feel. A child to appear againft a father!—no, Ma- 
 dam, old and infirm as 1 am, I would even yet 
 fooner convey her myfelf to fome remote part of the 
 world, though I were fure of dying in the expedition. 
 Far different had been the motives which would 
 have {timulated her unhappy mother to fuch a pro- 
 ceeding ; all her felicity in this world was irretrieva- 
 bly loft; her life was become a burthen to her; and 
 her fair fame, which fhe had early been taught to 
 prize 
 
EVELINA, 153 
 
 prize above all other things, had received-a mor- 
 tal wound: therefore, to clear aps own honour, and 
 to fecure from blemith the birth of her child, was all 
 the good which fortune had referved herfelf the 
 power of beftowing. But even this laft confolation 
 was withheld from her! r 
 
 Let milder meafures be adopted; and—fince it 
 muft be fo—let application be made to Sir John 
 Belmont ; but as toa lavw~fuit, I hope, upon this 
 fubje&t, never more to hear it mentioned. 
 
 With Madame Duval, all pleas of delicacy would 
 be ineffectual; her fcheme muft be oppofed by ar- 
 guments better fuited to her underftanding. I will 
 not, therefore, talk of its impropriety, but endeavour 
 to, prove its inutility. Have the goodnefs, then, to 
 tell her, that her own intentions would be fruftrat- 
 ed by her plan ; fince, fhould the law- fuit be com- 
 menced, and even fhould the caufe be gained, Six 
 John Belmont would {till have it in his power, aud, 
 if irritated, no doubt in his inclination, to cut off 
 her grand-daughter with a fhilling. 
 
 She cannot do better herfelf dian to remain quiet 
 and inactive in the affair: the long and mutual ani- 
 mofity between her and Sir John will make her in- 
 terference merely productive of debates and ill-will. 
 Neither would I have Evelina appear till fummoned. 
 And as to myfelf, I muft wholly decline adting ; 
 though | will, with unwearied zeal, devote all my 
 thoughts to giving counfel: but, in truth, I have 
 neither inclination nor fpirits adequate to engaging 
 perfonally with this man. 
 
 My opinion is, that. he would pay more re ab to 
 a letter from your Ladythip upon this fubjet, than 
 fromfany other perfon. I, theretor e dvife and hope, 
 that you will yourfelf take the trouble of shes to 
 him, in order to open the affair, When he thall be 
 Bislioed to fas Evelina, I have for him a pofthumous 
 letter, which his much-injurec ut la ly left to be prefent- 
 ed to “By fe ever fuch a meeting fhould take place, 
 
 The 
 
154 EVELINA, 
 
 The views of the Branghtons, in fuggefting this 
 fcheme, are obvioufly interefted. They hope, by 
 fecuring to Evelina the fortune of her father, to in- 
 duce Madame Duval to fettle her own upon them- 
 felves. In this, however, they would probably be 
 miftaken ; for little minds have ever a propenfity to 
 beftow their wealth upon thofe who are already in 
 affluence ; and, therefore, the lefs her grand-child 
 requires her affiftance, the more gladly fhe will 
 give it. 
 
 I have but one thing more to add, from which, 
 however, I can by no means recéde : my word fo 
 folemnly# given to Lady Belmont, that her child 
 thould*never be owned but with herfelf, muft be in- 
 violably adhered to. : 
 
 Iam, dear Madam, with great refpe, 
 
 Your Ladyfhip’s moft obedient fervant, 
 ARTHUR VILLARS, 
 
 LETTER: Xxx 
 
 Mr. Vitvars to Evewina, 
 
 : Berry Hill, May 2. 
 How fincerely do I fympathife in the un- 
 eafinefs and concern which my beloved Evelina has 
 fo much reafon to feel! The cruel {cheme in agi- 
 tation is equally repugnant to my judgment and my 
 inclination ;—yet, to oppofe it feems impra¢ticable. 
 To follow the di@ates of my own heart, I fhould 
 inftantly recall you to myfelf, and never more con- 
 fent to your being feparated from me; but the man- 
 ners and opinion of the world demand a different 
 conduct. Hope, however, for the beft, and be fa- 
 tisfied you fhall meet with no indignity; if you are 
 not received into your own family as you ought to 
 be, and with the diftinGtion that is your due, you 
 
 fhall 
 
EVELINA. 155 
 
 fhall Ieave it for ever; and, once again reftored to 
 my protection, fecure your own tranquillity, and 
 make, as you have hitherto done, all the happinefs 
 of my life! 
 
 LETTER XXX. 
 Evetina fo the Rev. Mr. ViLiars. 
 
 Howard Grove, May & 
 
 Tug die is thrown, and I atiend the event 
 in trembling! Lady Howard has written to Paris, 
 and fent her letter to town, to be forwarded in the 
 ambaflador’s packet ; and, in lefs than a fortnight,. 
 therefore, fhe expects an anfwer. ~O, Sir, with 
 what anxious impatience fhall I wait its arrival! 
 upon it feems to depend the fate of my future life. 
 My folicitude is fo great, and my fulpenfe fo pain- 
 ful, that I cannot reft a moment in peace, or turn 
 my thoughts into any other channel. 
 
 Deeply interefted as I now am in the event, moft 
 fincerely do I regret that the plan was ever propo- 
 fed. Methinkz it cannot end to my fatisfaction : for 
 either I muft be torn from the arms of my more than 
 father,—or I muft have the mifery of being finally 
 convinced, that I am cruelly rejected by him who 
 has the natural claim to that dear title; a title which 
 to write, mention, or think of, fills my whole foul 
 with filial tendernefs. 
 
 The fubje& is difcuffed here eternally. Captain 
 Mirvan and Madame Duval, as ufual, quarrel when- 
 ever it js ftarted: but I am_fo wholly engrofled by 
 my own refleQions, that I cannot even liften to 
 them. My imagination changes the fcene perpe- 
 tually ; one moment, I am embraced by a kind and 
 relenting parent, who takes me to that heart 
 from which I have hitherto been banifhed, and fup- 
 plicates, through me, peace and. forgivenefs from 
 
 the 
 
156 EVELINA, 
 
 the afhes of my mother !—at another, he regards me 
 with deteftation, confiders me as the living image of 
 an injured faint, and repulfes me with horror!—But 
 I will not affi& you with the melancholy phantafms 
 of my brain; I will endeavour to compofe my mind 
 to a more tranquil ftate, and forbear to write again 
 till I have, in fome meafure, fucceeded. 
 May Heaven blefs you, my deareft Sir! and long, 
 Jong may it continue you on earth, to blefs 
 Your grateful 
 EVELINA. 
 
 a eee 
 LETTER XXxXI, 
 
 Lady How arp 20 Sir Joun Betmont, Bart, 
 
 Sir, Howard Grove, May g. 
 
 You will, doubtlefs, be furprifed at re- 
 ceiving a letter from one who had for fo fhort a 
 period the honour of your acquaintance, and that at 
 fo great a diftance of time; but the motive which 
 has induced me to take this’ liberty is of fo delicate 
 a nature, that were I to commence making apologies 
 for my officioufnefs, I fear my letter would be too 
 long tor your patience. 
 
 You have, probably, already conje@tured the fub- 
 ject upon which I mean to treat. My regard for 
 Mr. Evelyn, and his amiable daughter, was welt 
 known to you: nor can I ever ceafe to be interefted 
 in whatever belongs to their memory or family. 
 
 I muft own myfelf fomewhat dittreffed in what 
 manner to introduce the purport of ray writing ; yet, 
 as I think that, in affairs of this kind, franknefs is 
 the firft requifite to a good underftanding between 
 the parties concerned, ¥ will neither torment you 
 nor myfelf with pun@tilious ceremonies, but pro- 
 ceed inftantly and openly to the bufinefs which oc- 
 cafions my giving you this. trouble. 
 
 I prefume, 
 
EVELINA. 157 
 
 I prefume, Sir, it would be fuperfluous to tell 
 you, that your child refides {till in Dorfetfhire, and 
 is ftill under the prote€tion of the Reverend Mr. 
 Villars, in whofe houfe the was born : for, tho’ no 
 inquiries concerning her have reached his ears, or 
 mine, I can never fuppofe it poffible you have for- 
 borne to make them. It only remains, therefore, 
 to tell you, that your daughter is now grown up 3 
 that fhe has been educated with the utmoft care, and 
 the utmoft fuccefs ; and that the is now a moft de- 
 ferving, accomplifhed, and amiable young woman. 
 
 Whatever may be your view for her future defti- 
 nation in life, it feems time to declare it. - She is 
 greatly admired, and, I doubt not, will be very 
 much fought after : it is proper, therefore, that her 
 future expectations, and your pleafure concerning 
 her, fhould be made known. 
 
 Believe me, Sir, the merits your utmoft attention 
 and regard. You could not fee and know her, and 
 remain unmoved by thofe fenfations of affection 
 which belong to fo near and tender a relationfhip, 
 She is the lovely refemblance of her lovely mother ;— 
 pardon, Sir, the liberty I take in mentioning that 
 unfortunate lady ; but I think it behoves me, upon 
 this oceafion, to fhew the efteem I felt for her : 
 allow me, therefore, to fay, and be not offended at 
 my freedom, that the memory of that excellent lady 
 has but too long remained under the afperfions of 
 calumny ; furely it is time to vindicate her fame!— 
 and how can that be done in a manner more eligible, 
 more grateful to her friends, or more honourable to 
 yourfelf, than by openly receiving as your child, the 
 daughter of the late Lady Belmont ? 
 
 The venerable man who has had the care of her 
 education, deferves your warmeit acknowledge- 
 ments, for the unremitting pains he has taken, and 
 attention he has fhewn, in the difcharge of his truft. 
 Indeed the has been peculiarly fortunate in meeting 
 with fuch a friend and guardian: a more worthy 
 
 man, 
 
158 EVELINA 
 
 man, or one whofe character feems nearer to per- 
 fection, does not exift. 
 
 Permit me to aflure you, Sir, fhe will amply re- 
 pay whatever regard and favour you may hereafter 
 fhew her, by the comfort and happinefs you cannot | 
 fail to find in her affe@tion and duty. To be owned 
 properly by you, is the farft with of her heart; and, I 
 am fure, that to merit your approbation will be the 
 firft ftudy of her life. 
 
 I fear that you will think this addrefs impertinent 5 
 put I mutt reft upon the goodaefs of my intention 
 to plead my excufe. 
 
 Iam, Sir, | 
 Your moft obedient humble fervant, 
 M. HowArpb. 
 
 CL 
 
 LETTER XXXIL 
 
 Eveiina to the Rev. Mr. Vituars. 
 
 Howard Grove, Kent, May 10 
 
 Our houfe has been enlivened to-day by the 
 
 , arrival of a London vifitor; and the neceflity I have 
 
 been under of concealing the uncafinefs of my mind, 
 
 has made me exert myfelf fo effectually, that I even 
 
 think it is really diminifhed; or, at leaft, my 
 
 thoughts are not fo totally, fo very anxioufly, oc- 
 cupied by one only fubje& as they lately were. 
 
 I was ftrolling this morning with Mifs Mirvan, 
 down a lane about a mile from the grove, when we 
 heard the trampling of horfes ; and, fearing the 
 narrownefs of the paflage, we were turning haftily 
 back, but ftopped upon hearing a voice call out, 
 «« Pray, Ladies, don't be frightened, for I will walk 
 my horfe.” We turned again, and then faw Sir 
 Clement Willoughby. He difmounted; and ap- 
 proaching us with the reins in his hand, prefently. 
 
 recollected 
 
EVELINA. 159 
 
 recolleéted us. ‘* Good Heaven,” cried he, with 
 his ufual quicknefs, «* do I fee Mifs Anville ?—and 
 you too, Mifs Mirvan ?” 
 
 He immediately ordered his fervant to take charge 
 of his horfe ; and then, advancing to us, took a hand 
 ofeach, which he prefled to his lips, and faid a 
 thoufand fine things concerning his good fortune, 
 our improved looks, and the charms of the country, 
 when inhabited by Juch rural deities. ‘* The town, 
 Ladies, has languifhed fince your abfence ;—or, at 
 Jeaft, I have fo much languifhed myfelf, as to be 
 abfolutely infenfible to all it had to offer. One re- 
 freihing breeze, fuch as I now enjoy, awakens me 
 to new vigour, life, and fpirit. But I never before 
 had the good luck to fee the country in fuch per- 
 fection.” 
 
 “* Has not almoft every body. left town, Sir ?” 
 faid Mifs Mirvan. 
 
 «¢ T am afhamed to anfwer you, Madam—but in- 
 deed it is as full as ever, and will continue fo till 
 after the birth-day. However, you Ladies were fo 
 little feen, that there are but few who know what it 
 has loft. For my own part, I felt it too fenfibly, 
 to be able to endure the place any longer.” 
 
 ‘« Ts there any body remaining there, that we were 
 acquainted with?” cried I. 
 
 ““O yes, Ma’am.” And then he named two or 
 three perfons we have feen when with him ; but he 
 did not mention Lord Orville, and I would not afk 
 him, left he fhould think me curious. Perhaps, if 
 he ftays here fome time, he may fpeak of him by 
 accident. 
 
 He was proceeding in this complimentary ftyle, 
 when we were met by the Captain ; who no fooner 
 perceived Sir Clement, than he haftened up to him, 
 gave hima hearty fhake of the hand, a cordial flap 
 on the back, and fome other equally gentle tokens 
 of fatisfaQion, affuring him of his great joy at his 
 vilit, and declaring he was as glad to fee him’as if he 
 
 had 
 
160 EVELIN Ae 
 
 had been-a meflenger who brought news that a 
 French fhip was funk. Sir Clement, on the other 
 fide, exprefled himfelf with equal warmth ; and 
 protefted he had been fo eager to pay his refpects to 
 Captain Mirvan, that he had left London in its full 
 luftre, and a thoufand engagements unan{wered, 
 merely to give himfelf that pleafure. 
 
 «« We fhall have rare fport,” faid the Captain ; 
 «for, do you know, the old French-woman is 
 among us! ’Fore George, I have fcarce made any 
 ufe of her yet, by reafon I have had -nobody with 
 me that could enjoy a joke: howfomever, it fhall 
 
 o hard but we'll have fome diverfion now.” 
 
 Sir Clement very much approved of the propofal-; 
 and we then went into the houfe, where he had a 
 very grave reception from Mrs. Mirvan, who is by | 
 no means pleafed with his vifit, and a look of much | 
 difcontent from Madame Duval, who faid to me in 
 a low voice, ‘*I’d as foon have feen Old Nick as 
 that man, for he’s the moft impertinenteft perfon in 
 the world, and isn’t never of my fide.” 
 
 The Captain is now actually occupied in contriv- 
 ing fome {cheme, which, he fays, is to play the old 
 Dowager off ; and {o eager and delighted is he at the 
 idea, that he can fearcely conftrain his raptures fuf- 
 ficiently to conceal his defign even from herfelf. I 
 with, however, fince 1 do not dare put Madame 
 Duval upon her guard, that he had the delicacy not 
 
 to acquaint me with his intention. 
 
 — EEE 
 
 LETTER XXXII, 
 
 EveLina in Continuation. 
 May 13th 
 
 Tur Captain’s operations, are begun,—and 
 
 I hope, ended; for, indeed, poor Madame Duval 
 
 = has already but too much reafon to regret Sir Cle- 
 
 ments vilit to Howard Grove. 
 
 Yefter- 
 
EVELINA. 161 
 
 Yefterday morning, during breakfaft, as the Cap- 
 tain was reading the newfpaper, Sir Clement fud- 
 denly begged to look at it, faying, he wanted to know 
 if there was any account of a tranfaction, at which he 
 had been prefent the evening before his journey 
 hither, concerning a poor Frenchman, who had got 
 into a fcrape which might coft him his life. 
 
 The Captain demanded particulars ; and then Sir 
 Clement told a long ftory of being with a party of 
 country friends at the Tower, and hearing a man 
 cry out for mercy in French ; and that, when he in- 
 quired into the occafion of his diftrefs, he was in- 
 formed, that he had been taken up upon fufpicion 
 of treafonable practices. againft the government. 
 ‘The poor fellow,” continued he, ‘ no fooner 
 found that I fpoke French, than he befought me to 
 hear him, protefting that he had no evil defigns ; 
 that he had been but a fhort time in England, and 
 only waited the return of a lady from the country to 
 quit it for ever.” 
 
 Madame Duval changed colour, and liftened with 
 the utmoft attention. , 
 
 “Now, though I by no means approve of fo 
 many foreigners continually flocking into our coun- 
 try,” added he, addrefling himfelf to the Captain, 
 «yet. I could not help pitying the poor wretch, be- 
 caufe he did not know enough of Englith to make 
 his defence : however, I found it impoffible to affift 
 him, for the mob would not fuffer me to interfere. 
 In truth, I am afraid he was roughly handled.” 
 
 «« Why, did they duck him?” faid the Captain. 
 
 «* Something of that fort,” anfwered he. 
 
 «¢ So much the better! fo much the better!” cried 
 the Captain, “(an impudent French puppy !—I'll 
 bet you what you will he was a rafcal. I only wifh 
 
 - all his countrymen were ferved the fame.” 
 
 J with 
 
162 EVELINA. 
 
 “«« | with you had been in his place, with all my 
 foul!” cried Madame Duval, warmly ;—‘* but pray, 
 Sir, did n’t nobody know who this poor gentleman 
 was?” 
 
 «« Why I did hear his name,” anfwered Sir Cle- 
 ment, ‘‘ but I cannot recolleét it.” 
 
 ‘« Tt was n’t,—it was n’t—Du Bois?” ftammered 
 out Madame Duval. 
 
 «The very name!” anfwered he: ‘ yes, Du 
 Bois, I remember it now.” 
 
 Madame Duval’s cup fell from her hand, as fhe 
 repeated “ Du Bois! Monfieur Du Bois, did you 
 fay ?” 
 
 “Du Bois! why, that’s my friend,” cried the 
 Captain, ‘ that’s Monfeer Slippery, i’n’t it-—Why, 
 he’s plaguy fond of foufing work ; howfomever, I'll 
 be {worn they gave him his fill of it.” 
 
 “And Ill be fworn,” cried Madame Duval, 
 ** that you ’re a —- but I don’t believe nothing about 
 it, fo you need n’t be fo overjoyed, for I dare fay it 
 was no more Monfieur Du Bois than I am,” 
 
 “‘ I thought at the time,” faid Sir Clement, very 
 gravely, ‘that I had feen the gentleman before ; 
 and now I recolleét, I think it was in company 
 with you, Madam,” 
 
 ** With me, Sir!” cried Madame Duval. 
 
 «« Say you fo?” faid the Captain ; « why then, it 
 mutt be he, as “fure as you ’re alive ! Well, but, 
 my good friend, what will they do with poor Mon- 
 
 cer 2" 
 
 ‘It is difficult to fay,” anfwered Sir Clement, 
 very thoughtfully ; «« but I fhould fuppofe, that if 
 he has not good friends to appear for him, he will 
 be in a very unpleafant fituation; for thefe are fe- 
 rious fort of affairs.” 
 
 «Why, do you think they’ll hang him?” de- 
 manded the Captain. 
 
 Sir Clement thook his head, but made no an~ 
 {wer. 
 
 Madame 
 
EV E:L-I N-A. 163 
 
 Madame Duval could.no longer contain. her agi- 
 tation; fhe ftarted from her chair, repeating, with 
 a voice half-choaked, ‘ Hang him !—they can’t,— 
 they fha’n’t,—let them at their peril |_-However, 
 it’s all falfe, and I won’t-believe a word of it ;——but 
 J’ll go to town this very moment, and fee M. Du 
 Bois myfelf ;—and I won’t wait for nothing.” 
 
 Mrs. Mirvan begged her not to be alarmed ; but 
 fhe flew out of the room, and up ftairs into her own 
 apartment. Lady Howard blamed boththe gentle- 
 men for having been fo abrupt, and followed 
 her. I would have accompanied her, but the Cap- 
 tain flopped me; and, having firft laughed: very 
 heartily, faid he was going to read his commiffion 
 to his {hip’s company. 
 
 “« Now, do you fee,” faid he, «as to Lady 
 Howard, I fha’n’t pretend for to enlift her into my 
 fervice, and fo I fhall e’en leave her to make it out 
 as well as fhe can; but as to all you, I expect 
 obedience and fubmiffion to orders; I am now upon 
 a hazardous expedition, having tindertaken to con- 
 voy a crazy veflel to the fhore of Mortification ; fo, 
 d'ye fee, if any of you have any thing to propole 
 that will forward the enterprize,—why {peak and 
 welcome; but if any of you, that are of my chofen 
 crew, capitulate, or enter into any treaty with the 
 enemy,—I fhall look upon you as mutinying, and 
 turn you adrift,” 
 
 Having finifhed this harangue, which was inter~ 
 larded with many expreffions, and fea-phrafes, that 
 Icannot recolle&, he gave Sir Clement a wink of 
 intelligence, and left us to ourfelves. 
 
 Indeed, notwithftanding the attempts I fo fre- 
 quently make of writing fome of the Captain’s con- 
 verfation, I can only give you a faint idea of his 
 language ; for almoft every other word he utters is 
 accompanied by an oath, which, I am fure, would 
 be as unpleafant for you to read, as. for me 
 fo write: and, befides, he makes ufe of a thou- 
 
 fand 
 
Sn UT 
 “te \ 
 
 EVELINA. 
 
 164 
 
 fand fea-terms, which are to me quite unintel- 
 ligible. 
 
 Poor Madame Daval fent to inquire at all pro- 
 bable places, whether fhe could be conveyed to town 
 in any ftage-coach: but the Captain’s fervant 
 brought her for anfwer, that no London ftage would 
 pafs near Howard Grove till to-day. She then fent 
 to order a chaife; but was foon affured, that no 
 horfes could be procured. She was fo much in- 
 flamed by thefe difappointments, that fhe threaten- 
 ed to fet out for town on foot ; and it was with dif- 
 ficulty that Lady Howard diffuaded her from this 
 mad f{cheme, 
 
 The whole morning was filled up with thefe in- 
 quiries. But, when we were all ailembled to din- 
 ner, fhe endeavoured to appear perfe@tly unzoncern- 
 ed, and repeatedly protefted that fhe gave not any 
 credit to the report, as far as it regarded M. Du 
 Bois, being very certain that he was not the perfon 
 in queftion. 
 
 The Captain ufed the moft provoking efforts to 
 convince her that fhe deceived herfelf ; while Sir Cle- 
 ment, with more art, though not lefs malice, affeét- 
 ed to be of her opinion ;_ but, at the fame time that 
 he pretended to relieve her uneafinefs, by faying that 
 he doubted not having miftaken the name, he took 
 care to enlarge upon the danger to which the un- 
 known gentleman was expofed, and expreffed great 
 concern at his perilous fituation. 
 
 Dinner was hardly removed, when a letter was 
 delivered to Madame Duval. The moment fhe had 
 read it, fhe haftily demanded from whom it came? 
 *« A country boy brought it,” anfwered the fervant, 
 ** but he would not wait.” 
 
 «Run after him this inftant!” cried fhe, “ and 
 be fure you bring him back. Mon Dieu! quel avan- 
 ture! que ferai-je?”’ 
 
 «« What's the matter? what’s the matter?” faid 
 the Captain. 
 
 « Why 
 
EV-ELINA. 165 
 
 “Why nothing,—nothing’s the matter. O mon 
 Dieu!” 
 
 And fhe rofe, and walked about the room. 
 
 «* Why, what,—has Monfeer {ent to you?” cons 
 tinued the Captain: ‘is that there letter from 
 him?” 
 
 ‘« No,—it i’n't ;—befides, if it is, it’s nothing to 
 you.” 
 
 “‘Othen, I’m fure it is! Pray now, Madame, 
 don’t be fo clofe; come tell us all about it,—what 
 does he fay? how did he relifh the horfe-pond ?— 
 which did he find beft, foufing jingle or double ? 
 "Fore George, ‘twas plaguy unlucky you was not 
 with him!” 
 
 ‘¢ Tt’s no fucha thing, Sir,” cried the, very an- 
 grily ; “and if you're fo very fond of a horfe-pond, 
 { with you’d put yourfelf into one, and not be always 
 a thinking about other people’s being ferved fo.” 
 
 ‘The man then came in to acquaint her they could 
 not overtake the boy. She fcolded violently, and 
 was in fuch perturbation, that Lady Howard inter- 
 fered, and begged to know the caufe of her uneati- 
 nefs, and whether fhe could afliftt her ? 
 
 Madame Duval caft her eyes upon the Captain 
 and Sir Clement, and {aid the fhould be glad to {peak 
 to her Ladythip, without fo many witnefles. 
 
 ‘© Well, then, Mifs Anville,” faid the Captain, 
 turning to me, ‘* do you and Molly go into another 
 room, and {tay till Mrs. Duval has opened her mind 
 to us.” 
 
 *« So you may think, Sir,” cried the, * but who’s 
 fool then? no, no, you needn’t trouble yourfelf to 
 make a ninny of me neither, for I’m not fo eafily 
 taken in, I'll aflure you.” 
 
 Lady Howard then invited her into the drefling- 
 room, and I was defired to attend her, 
 
 As foon as we had {hut the door, ««O my Lady,” 
 exclaimed Madame Duval, ‘* here’s the moft cruel- 
 velt thing in the world has happened !—but that 
 
 Captain 
 3 
 
—— 
 
 166 EVELINA. ; 
 Captain ‘is fuch a beat, I can't fay nothing before 
 him,—but it’s all true! poor M. Du Bois 1s tooked 
 up!” 
 
 Lady Howard begged her to be comforted, faying 
 
 ~ Ss 
 
 that, as M. Du Bois was certainly innocent, there 
 could be no doubt of his ability to clear himfelf. 
 
 <« To be fure, my Lady,” an{wered fhe, “ I know 
 he is innocent ; and to be fure they'll never be fo 
 wicked as to hang him for nothing £” 
 
 «« Certainly not,” replied Lady Howard; ‘‘ you 
 have no reafon to be uneafy. This is not a country 
 where punifhment is infli@ed without proof.” 
 
 «¢ Very true, my Lady: but the wort thing is 
 this; I cannot bear that that fellow the Captain 
 fhould know about it; for if he does, I fha’n’t never 
 hear the laft of it;—-no more won't poor M. Du 
 Bois.” 
 
 «Well, well,” faid Lady Howard, ‘ fhow me 
 the letter, and I will endeavour to advife you.” 
 
 The letter was then produced. It was figned by 
 the clerk of a country juitice ; who acquainted her, 
 that a prifoner, then upon trial for fufpicion of trea- 
 fonable practices againft the government, was jut 
 upon the point of being committed to jail ; but hav- 
 ing declared that he was known to her, this clerk 
 had been prevailed upon to write, in order to enquire ) 
 if the really could fpeak to the character and family 
 ofa Frenchman who called himfelf Pierre Du Bois. 
 
 When I heard the letter ] was quite amazed at 
 its fuccefs. So improbable did it feem, that a fg- 
 reigner fhould be taken before a country juftice of 
 peace, for a crime of fo dangerous a nature, that I 
 cannot imagine how Madame Duval could be alarm- 
 ed, even fora moment. But, with all her violence 
 of temper,'I fee that fhe is ealily frightened, and, 
 in fa&, more cowardly than many who have not 
 
 half her fpirit ; and fo little does fhe reflet upon 
 circumftances, or probability, that {he is continually 
 the 
 
to et BUN as 167 
 
 the dupa of her own—I ought not to fay ignorance, 
 but yet I can think of no other word. 
 
 I believe that Lady Howard, from the beginning 
 of the tranfaction, fufpe&ted fome contrivance of 
 the Captain ; and this letter, I am fure, muft con- 
 firm her fufpicion: however, though fheis not at all 
 pleafed with his frolic, yet fhe would not hazard 
 the confequence. of difcovering his defigns : her 
 Jooks, her manner, and her character, made me 
 draw this conclufion from her apparent perplexity ; 
 for not a word did fhe fay that implied any doubt of 
 the authenticity of the letter. Indeed there feems to 
 be a fort of tacit agreement between her and the 
 Captain, that fhe fhould not appear to be acquaint- 
 ed with his fchemes ; by which means fhe at once 
 avoids quarrels, and fupports her dignity. 
 
 While the was confidering what to propofe, Ma- 
 dame Duval begged to have the ufe of her Lady- 
 fhip’s chariot, that fhe might go immediately to the 
 afliftance of her friend. Lady Howard politely af- 
 fured her, that it fhould be extremely at her fervice ; 
 and then Madame Duval befought her not to own 
 to the Captain what had happened, protefting that 
 fhe could not endure he fhould know poor M. Du 
 Bois had met with fo unfortunate an accident. Lady 
 Howard could not help fmiling, though the readily 
 promifed not to inform the Captain of the affair. 
 As tome, fhe defired my attendance; which I was 
 by no means rejoiced at, as I was certain fhe was 
 going upon.a fruitlefs errand. 
 
 I was then commiffioned to order the chariot. 
 
 At the foot of the flairs I met the Captain, who 
 was moflt impatiently waiting the refult of the con- 
 ference. In an inftant we were joined by Sir Cle- 
 ment. A thoufand enquiries were then made con- 
 cerning Madame Duval’s opinion of the letter, and 
 her intentions upon it: and when I wouldthave left 
 them, Sir Clement, pretending equal eagernefs with 
 the Captain, caught my hand, and repeatedly de- 
 
 tained 
 
168 EVELINA. 
 
 tained me, to afk fome frivolous queltion, to the an- 
 {wer of which he mutt be totally indifferent. At 
 length, however, I broke from them ;_ they retired 
 into the parlour, and I executed my commifiion. 
 
 The carriage was foon ready ; and Madame Du- 
 val, having begged Lady Howard to fay fhe was not 
 well, ftole foftly down ftairs, defiring me to follow 
 her. The chariot was ordered at the garden-door ; 
 and, when we were feated, fhe told the man, ac- 
 cording to the clerk’s direétions, to drive to Mr. 
 Juftice Tyrell’s, afking, at the fame time, how many 
 miles off he lived ? 
 
 I expeéted he would have anfwered, that he knew 
 of no fuch perfon ; but, to my great furprife, he 
 faid, ‘ Why, ’Squire Tyrell lives about nine miles 
 beyond the park.” 
 
 << Drive faft, then,” cried fhe, * and you fha’n’t 
 be no worfe for it.” 
 
 During our ride, which was extremely tedious, 
 fhe tormented herfelf with a thoufand fears for M. 
 Du Bois’s fafety ; and piqued herfelf_very much 
 upon having efcaped unfeen by the Captain, not 
 only that fhe avoided his triumph, but becaufe fhe 
 knew him to be fo much M. Du Bois’s enemy, that 
 {he was fure he would prejudice the juftice againtt 
 him, and endeavour to take away his life. For my 
 part, I was quite afhamed of being engaged in fo 
 ridiculous an affair, and could only think of the ab- 
 furd appearance we fhould make upon our arrival at 
 Mr. Tyrell’s. 
 
 When we had been out near two hours, and ex- 
 pected every moment to ftop at the place of our def- 
 tination, | obferved that Lady Howard’s fervant, 
 who attended us on horfeback, rode on forward till 
 he was out of fight ; and foon after returning came 
 up to the chariot window, and delivering a note to 
 Madame Duval, faid he had met a boy who was 
 ‘uft coming with it to Howard Groye from the clerk: 
 
 of Mr. Tyrell. 
 While 
 
EVELINA, 169 
 
 While fhe was reading it, he rode round to the 
 other window, and, making a fign for fecrecy, put 
 into my hand a flip of paper, on which was writ- 
 eeu; «* Whatever happens, be not alarmed ;—for 
 
 u are fafé—though you endanger all mankind!” 
 
 be readily imagined that Sir Clement mutt be the 
 author of this note, which prepared me to expect 
 fome difagreeable adventure: but I had no time to 
 ponder upon it ; for Madame Duval had no fooner 
 read her own letter, than, in an angry tone of voice, 
 fhe excl aimed, “«¢ Why, now, what a thing is this! 
 here we’re come all this way for nothing!” 
 
 She then gave me the note; which info rmed oe 
 that fhe need not trouble herfelf to go to Mr. Ty- 
 rell’s, as the prifoner had had the adc drefs s to efc ape : 
 I congratulated her upon ‘this fortu nate incident 5 
 but fhe was.fo much concerned at havi ing rode fo far 
 in vain, that fhe feemed lefs pleafed than provoked. 
 However, fhe ordered the man to make what hale 
 he could home, as fhe hoped, at leait, to return be- 
 fore the Cz iptain fhould fufpe& what ha | pafled 
 
 ‘The carriage turned about ; and we ¢ jou rneyed fo 
 eva for near an hour, that I began to flatter my- 
 felf we thould be fuffered to proceed to Howard 
 Grove without further moleftation, when, fuddenly, 
 the footman called out, ‘* John, are we going right;”’ 
 
 «¢ Why, I a’n’t fure,” faid the coachman, “ but 
 I’m afraid we turned wrong. 
 
 «« What do you oe n by that, Sirrah?” faid Ma- 
 dame Duval: «“« wh ys if. you lofe your way, we 
 fhall be all in the dark.” 
 
 ‘¢ | think we fhould turn to the left,” faid the 
 footman. 
 
 atid Se, the left !” anfwered the other; « No, no, 
 I’m partly fire we fhould turn to the right.” 
 
 «« You had better make fome inquiry,” faid I. 
 
 ‘ Ma fzi,” cried Madame Duval, “ we're ina 
 fine hole here !_they neither of them know no 
 more than the polt. However, I'll tell my. Lady 
 
 VOL. I. 
 
 us 
 
EVELINA. 
 
 ; 
 as fure as you’re born, fo you'd better find the 
 way.” 
 
 «« Let’s try this lane.” faid the footman. 
 
 «« No,” faid the coachman; ‘ that’s the road to 
 Canterbury : we had beit go ftraight on.” 
 
 «< Why, that’s the diredt London road,” return- 
 ed the footman, ‘‘ and will lead us twenty «miles 
 about.” 
 
 «« Pardi,” cried Madame Duval; ‘« why, they 
 won't go one way nor t ‘other! and ioe we're come 
 all this jaunt for nothing, I fuppofe we fha’n’t get 
 home to-night!” 
 
 «« Let's go apo to the public- houfe,” faid the 
 footman, ‘* and 2 afk fora guide.” 
 
 «No, no,” faid the other, ‘if we ftay here a 
 ex minutes, fomebody or other will pafs by ; and 
 
 e horfes are al pe kn acked up already.’ 
 
 “s Well, I prote cried Madame Duval, « I'd 
 give a guinea to fa s, em fots both horfe- whipped ! 
 As fure as [’m alive they’re drunk! Ten to one but 
 they’J] overturn us next oP? 
 
 After much debating, they at length aur to go 
 on till we came to fome inn, or met with a paflen- 
 ger who could dire&t us. We foon arrived at a 
 
 farm-houfe, and the footman alighted, and went 
 into it. 
 
 In a few minutes he returned, and told us we 
 might proceed, for that he had procured a direétion : 
 « But,” added he, ‘* it feems there are fome thieves 
 hereabouts ; and fo the beft way will be for you to 
 leave your watches and igi with the farmer, who 
 I know very well, and who is an scenath man, and 
 
 a tenant of my Lady’s 
 
 « Thieves!” ae d Madame Duval, looki <ing aghaft; 
 «the Lord help us!—I’ve no doubt but we fhall 
 
 e all murd fered (” 
 
 The farmer came up to us, and we gave him all 
 we were worth, and the fervants fallowed our ex= 
 ample. We then procecded; and Madame Duval’s 
 
 anger 
 
EVELINA, I7E 
 
 anger fo entirely fubfided, that, in the mildeft man- 
 ner imaginable, fhe intreated them to make hatte, 
 and promifed to tell their Lady how diligent and 
 obliging they had been. She perpetually {topped 
 them, to afk if they apprehended any danger ; and was 
 at length fo much overpowerd by her fears, that fhe 
 made the footman faften his horfe to the back of the 
 carriage, and then come and feat himfelf within it. 
 My endeavours to encourage her were fruitlefs : fhe 
 fat in the middle, held the man by the arm, and 
 protefted that if he did but fave her life, fhe would 
 make his fortune. Her uneafinefs gave me much 
 concern, and it was with the utmoft difficulty I for- 
 bore to acquaint her that fhe was impofed upon ; 
 but the mutual fear of the Captain’s refentment to 
 me, and of her own to him, neither of which would 
 have any moderation, deterred me. As to the 
 footman, he was evidently in torture from reftrain- 
 ing his laughter and I obferved that he was fre- 
 quently obliged to make moft horrid grimaces, from 
 pretended fear, in order to conceal his rifibility. 
 
 Very foon after, ‘* The robbers are coming |” 
 cried the coachman, 
 
 The footman opened the door, and jumped out 
 of the chariot. 
 
 Madame Duval gave a loud fcream. 
 
 I could no longer preferve my filence. * For 
 Heaven’s fake, my dear Madam,” faid I, « don’t 
 be alarmed,—you are in no danger,—you are quite 
 fafe,—there is nothing but = 
 
 Here the chariot was {topped by two men in 
 majfks; who, at each fide, put in their hands as if 
 for our purfes. Madame Duval funk to the bottom 
 of the chariot, and implored their mercy. I {hriek- 
 ed involuntarily, although prepared for the attack : 
 one of them held me fa{t, while the other tore poor 
 Madame Duval out of the carriage, in fpite of her 
 cries, threats, and refiftance. 
 
 ; oa I was 
 
172 EVELINA. 
 
 I was really frightened, and trembled exceeding- 
 ly. ‘ My angel!” cried the man who held me, 
 «* you cannot furely be alarmcd,—do you not know 
 me?—I fhall hold myfelf in eternal abhorrence, if 
 I have really terrified you.” 
 
 «‘ Indeed, Sir Clement, you have,’ cried I:— 
 «but, for Heaven's fake, where is Madame Duval? 
 —why is fhe forced away ies 
 
 «« She is perfeétly fafe; the Captain has her in 
 charge: but fuffer me now, my adored Mifs An- 
 ville, to take the only opportunity that is allowed 
 me, to fpeak upon another, a much dearer, much 
 {weeter fubject.” 
 
 And then he haftily came into the chariot, and 
 feated himfelf next to me. I would fain have dif 
 engaged myfelf from him, but he would not let me: 
 «« Deny me not, moft charming of women,” cried 
 he, ‘*deny me not this only moment that is lent 
 me, to pour forth my foul into your gentle ears,— 
 to tell you how much I fuffer from your abfence,— 
 how much I dread your difpleafure,—and how 
 cruelly I am affected by your coldnefs !” ‘ 
 
 «© Q, Sir, this is no time for fuch language;— . 
 pray leave me, pray go to the relief of Madame 
 Duval,—I cannot bear that the fhould be treated 
 
 with fuch indignity.” 
 
 c 
 
 « And will you,—can you command my abfence? 
 ——When may I fpeak to you, if not now ?— Does 
 the Captain fuffer me to breathe a moment out of 
 his fight?—and are not a thoufand impertinent 
 people for ever at your elbow.” 
 
 «« Indeed, Sir Clement, you muft change your 
 ftyle, or J will not hear you. The impertinent people 
 you mean are among my beft friends ; and you would 
 not, if you-really withed me well, fpeak of them fo 
 difrefpectfully.” 
 
 «< With you well!—O, Mifs Anville, point but 
 out to me how, in what manner, I may convince 
 you of the fervuur of my paflion ;—tell me but what 
 
 fervices 
 
EVELINA, 173 
 
 fervices you will accept from me,—and you fhall 
 find my life, my fortune, my whole foul at your de- 
 votion. 
 
 “* T want nothing, Sir, that you can offer ;—I beg 
 you not to talk to me fo—fo ftrangely. Pray leave 
 me; and pray ailure yourfelf, you cannot take any 
 method fo fuccefslefs to fhow any regard for me, as 
 entering into {chemes fo frightful to Madame Duval, 
 and fo difagreeable to myfelf.” 
 
 ‘© The fcheme was the Captain’s: T even oppofed 
 it: though, Town, I could-not refufe myfelf the fo 
 long-wifhed-for happinefs of {peaking to you once 
 more, without fo many oft—your friends to watch 
 me. And I had flattered myfelf, that the note I 
 charged the footman to give you, would have pre- 
 vented the alarm you have received.” 
 
 ‘Weil, Sir, you have now, I hope, faid enough ; 
 and, if you will not go yourfelf to fee for Madame 
 Duval, at leaft fuffer me to inquire what is become 
 of her.” 
 
 “« And when may I {peak to you again?” 
 
 . ‘*No matter when, I don’t know, per- 
 haps 5s 
 
 ‘« Perhaps what, my angel” 
 
 ‘© Perhaps never, Sir, if you ‘torment me 
 thus.” 
 
 ** Never! O, Mifs Anville, how crucl, how 
 piercing to my foul is that icy word!—-Indeed I 
 cannot endure fuch difpleafure.” 
 
 «Then, Sir, you muft not provoke it, Pray 
 leave me dire@ly.” 
 
 ‘¢T will, Madam: but let me, at leaft, make a 
 merit of my obedjence,—allow me to hope that you 
 will, in future, be lefs averfe to trufting yourfelf for 
 a few minutes alone with me.” 
 
 I was furprifed at the freedom of this requeft ; 
 but, while I hefitated how to anfwer it, the other 
 matk came up to the chariot-door, and, in a voice 
 almoft ftifled with laughter, faid, “ I've done for 
 
 her! 
 
174 ECV Ec DNvA- 
 
 : = woke _ i 
 : - hert—the old buck is fafe ;—hut we muft fheer off 
 | dire@ly, or we fhall be all aground.” 
 
 Sir Clement inftantly left ‘me, mounted his horfe, 
 and rode off. “The Captain, having given fome di- 
 reCtions to the fervants, fol fawed him. 
 
 I was both uneafy and impatient to know the 
 fate of Madame Duval, and immediately got out 
 of the chariot to feek nie: I defired the footman 
 to fhow me which way fhe was gone; he pointed 
 With his finger by way of anfwer, and I faw that 
 he dared not truft his voice to make any other, I 
 
 walked on a very quick pace, and foon, to my. great 
 confternation, perceived the poor Lady {cated upright 
 ina ditch. JF flew to her sesiiti unfeigned concern 
 Ituation.. She was fo »bbing, nay, almolt 
 an! in the utmoft agony of rage and terrom 
 AS {von as fhe faw me, thi hast subled her cries ; but 
 her voice-was fo broken, I could not undertaaal a 
 word or faid. I was. fo much fhocked, that it was 
 with eet I forbore exclaiming againtt the cruel- 
 t) af é Captain for thus wantonly ill-treating her; 
 and | f° 10t forgive myfel f for having paflively 
 ? eption. { uf fed my utmoft endeas 
 her, alluring her of our prefent fafety, 
 and b ¢ ae to rife < and return to thechariot. 
 i Almok burfting with paffion, fhe poitited to her 
 r feet, and with friglitful vielence fhe aétually beat 
 » ground with her hands. 
 | hen faw that her are were tied together with a 
 i | ftrong rope, which was faftened to the upper branch 
 Pee |e: of a tree, even with an hedge which ran along the 
 . ditch where fhe fat. I endeavoured to untie the 
 knot; but foon found it was infinitely beyond my 
 ftrength. I was, therefore, obliged to apply to the 
 footman ; but being very unwi lling te add to his 
 mirth by the fight of Madame Duval’s fituation, Ide- 
 fired him to lend me aknife: I returned withit, and 
 cut the rope. Her feet were rans difentangled ; and 
 then, though with great difficulty, I aflifted her to rife. 
 
 ' But 
 
EVELINA. 
 
 TLowndes Pel 
 
 Vol I page 174. 
 
EVELINA, 195 
 
 But what was my aftonifhment, when, the moment 
 fhe was up, fhe hit mea violent flap on the face! 
 I retreated from her with precipitation and drea 
 and fhe then loaded me with reproaches, which, 
 though almoft unintelligible, convinced me that fhe 
 imagined I had voluntarily deferted her; but fhe 
 feemed not to have the flighteft fufpicion that the 
 had not been attacked by real robbers. 
 
 I was fo much furprifed and confounded at the 
 blow, that, for fome time, I fuffered her to rave 
 without making any anfwer; but her extreme agi- 
 tation, and real fuffering, foon difpelled my anger, 
 which all turned into compaflion. I then told her, 
 that I had been forcibly detained from following her, 
 and aflured her of my real forrow at her ill ufage 
 
 5 
 
 She began to be fomewhat appeafed ; and I again 
 intreated her to return to the carriage, or give me 
 leave to order that it fhould draw up to the place 
 where we {tood. She made no anfwer, till I told 
 her, that the longer we remained flill, the greater 
 would be the danger of our ride home. Struck with 
 this hint, fhe fuddenly, and with hafty fteps, mov- 
 ed forward. 
 
 Her drefs was in fuch diforder, that I was quite 
 forry to have her figure expofed to the fervants, who 
 all of them, in imitation of their mafter, hold her in 
 derifion: however, the difgrace was unavoidable. 
 
 The ditch, happily, was almoft quite dry, or fhe 
 muit have fuffered {till more ferioufly ; yet fo for- 
 Jorn, fo miferable a figure, I never before faw. 
 Her head-drefs had fallen off, her linen was torn, 
 her negligee had not a pin left in it, her petticvats 
 fhe was obliged to hold on, and her thoes were per- 
 petually flipping off. She was covered with dirt, 
 weeds, and filth, and her face was really horrible ; 
 for the pomatum and powder from her head, and the 
 duft from the road, were quite pe/fed on her fkin by 
 her tears, which, with her rovge, made rightful 
 a mixture, that fhe hardly looked hum “ 
 
 The 
 
176 EVELINA. 
 
 The fervants were ready to die with laughter the 
 moment they faw her; but not all my remonitran- 
 ces could prevail upon her to get into the carriage, 
 till the had moft vehemently reproached them both 
 for not refcuing her. The footman, fixing his eyes 
 on the ground, as if fearful of again trufting himfelf 
 to look at her, protefted that the robbers had vowed 
 they would fhoot him if he moved an inch, and 
 that one of them had ftayed to watch the chariot, 
 while the other carried her off; adding, that the 
 reafon of their behaving fo barbaroufly, was to re- 
 venge our having fecured our purfes. Notwith- 
 {ianding her anger, fhe gave immediate credit to 
 
 faid; and really imagined that her want of 
 L irritated the pretented robbers to treat 
 her with fuch cruelty. I determined, therefore, to be 
 y upon my guard not to betray the impofition, 
 cou'd now anfwer no other purpofe, than oc- 
 cajoning an irreparable breach between her and the 
 Captain. 
 
 Juft as we were feated in the chariot, fhe difco- 
 ithe lofs which her head had fuftained, and 
 called out, ** My God! what is become of my hair? 
 —why, the villain has ftole all my curls!” 
 
 She then ordered the man to run and fee if he 
 could find any of them in the ditch. He went, and 
 prefently returning, produced a great quantity of 
 hair, in fuch a na{ty condition, that I was amazed 
 ihe would take it; and the man, as he delivered it 
 to her, found it impoffible to keep his countenance ; 
 which fhe no fooner obferved, than all her ftormy 
 paflions were again raifed. She flung the battered 
 curls in his face, faying, ‘‘ Sirrah, what do you grin 
 for? I with you’d been ferved fo yourfelf, and you 
 wouldn’t have found it no fuch joke: you are the 
 jmpudenteft fellow ever I fee; and if I find you dare 
 grin at me any more, I {hall make no ceremony of 
 boxing your ears.” 
 
 hac 
 ‘ 
 
 vere! 
 
 Satisfied 
 
EVELINA. 177 
 
 Satisfied with the threat, the. man haftily retired, 
 and we drove on. 
 
 Her anger now fubfiding into grief, fhe began 
 moft veutuls to lament hes cafe. “ey believe,” fhe 
 cried, ‘* never nobody was fo unlucky as Iam! and 
 s here, becanfe I ha’n’t had misfortunes enough al- 
 
 eady, that puppy has made me lofe my cur ris !— 
 W hy, I can’t fee nobody without them :—only 
 look at me,—I was never fo bad off in my life be- 
 fore. Pardi, if Vd know’d as much, I'd have 
 brought two or three fets with me: but I’d never a 
 though t of fuch a thing as this.’ 
 
 Finding her now fomewhat pacified, I ventured 
 to afk an aceount of her adventure, which I will 
 endeavour to write in her own words. 
 
 es Why, child, all this misfortune comes of that 
 puppy's making us leave our money behind us; for, 
 as foon as the Tobber fee I did not put 1 nothing i in 
 his hands, he lugged me out of the chariot by main 
 force, and I verily thought he’d have mur¢ fered me. 
 He was as {trong as alion; I was no more in his 
 hands than a child. But | believe never nobody was 
 fo abufed before; for he dragged me down the 
 road, pulling and hauling me all ‘the w ay, as if I'd 
 no more feeling than a horfe. I’m fure I with I 
 could fee that man cut up and quartered alive! how- 
 ever, -he’ll come to the gallows, that’s one good 
 thing. So, as foon as wed got out of fix ght of the 
 chariot,—though he needn’t tia ive been afraid, for if 
 he’d beat me to ajmummy; thofe cowardly fellows 
 wouldn’t have faid nothing to it. So, when I was 
 got there, what does he do, but all of a fudden he 
 takes me by both the thoulders, and he gives me 
 fuch a fhake! Mon Dien! 1 thall never forget 
 it, if Llive to bean hundred. I’m fure I dare fay 
 I’m out of joint all over. And, though I made as 
 much'noife as ever I could, he took no more notice 
 of it than nothing at all; but there he /tood, thaking 
 me in that manner, as if he was doing it for a 
 
 W ager, 
 
Rid, 
 
 178 EVELINA, 
 
 wager. I’m determined, if it cofts me all my for- 
 tune, I'll fee that villain hanged. He fhall be found 
 out, if there’s e’er a juftice in England. So when 
 he had fhook me till he was tired, and I felt all 
 over like a jelly, without faying never a word, he 
 takes and pops me into the ditch! I’m fure, I 
 thought he’d have murdered me, as much as I ever 
 thought any thing in my life; for he kept bumping 
 me about, as if he thought nothing too bad for me, 
 However, I’m refolved I’ll never leave my purfe 
 behind me again, the longeft day I have to live. 
 So when he couldn’t ftand over me no longer, he 
 holds out his hands again for my money ; but he 
 was as Cunning as could be, for he wouldn’t fpeak a 
 word, becaufe I fhouldn’t {wear to his voice ; how- 
 ever, that fha’n’t fave him, for I’ll fwear to him 
 uny day in the year, if I can but catch him. So, 
 when I told him I had no money, he fell to jerking 
 me again, juft as if he had but that moment begun! 
 And, after that, he got me clofe by a tree, and out 
 of his pocket he pulls a great cord !—It’s a wonder I 
 did not {woon away; for as fure as you're alive, he was 
 going to hang me to that tree. I {creamed like any 
 thing mad, and told him if he would but {pare my 
 life, I’d never profecute him, nor tell nobody what 
 he'd done to me: fo, he flood fome time quite ina 
 brown ftudy, a-thinking what he fhould do. And 
 {GPafter that, he forced me to fit down in the ditch, 
 and he tied my feet together, juft as you fee them ; 
 and then, as if he had not done enough, he twitch- 
 ed off my cap, and, without faying nothing, got 
 on his horfe and left me in that condition ; think- 
 ing, I fuppofe, that I might lie there and perifh.” 
 Though this narrative almoft compelled_me to 
 Jaugh, yet I was really irritated with the Captain, 
 for carrying his love of tormenting, -[port, he 
 calls it,—to fuch barbarous and unjuftifiable ex- 
 tremes. I confoled and foothed her as well as I 
 was able; and told her, that fince M, Du Bois hafl 
 
 efcaped, 
 
 : 
 
EVELINA. 179 
 
 efcaped, I hoped, when fhe recovered from her 
 fright, all would end well. 
 
 “< Fright, child!” repeated fhe, ‘* why that’s not 
 half ;—I promife you, I with it was ; but here I’m 
 bruifed from top to toe, and it’s well if ever I.have 
 the right ufe of my limbs again. However, I’m 
 giad the villain got nothing but his trouble for his 
 pains. But here “the wort is to come, for I can’t 
 go out, becaufe I’ve got no curls, and fo he'll be 
 efcaped before I can get to the juftice to ftop him. 
 I’m refolved Tl tel] Lady Howard how her man 
 ferved me ; for if he hadn’t made me fling em away, 
 I dare fay I could have pinned them up well enough 
 for the country.” 
 
 «« Perhaps Lady Howard may be able to lend you 
 a cap that will wear without them. 
 
 «« Lady Howard, indeed! why, do'you think I'd 
 wear one of her dowdies? No, Tl promife 98 u, I 
 fha’n’t put on no fuch a difguifement. It’s the un- 
 luckieft thing in the world ‘that I did not make the 
 man pick up the curls again ; but he put me in fuch 
 
 a paflion, I could not think on nothing. I know I 
 
 an’t get none at Howard Grove for love nor money; 
 for ot all the ftupid places ever I fee, that Howard 
 Grove is the worlt ; there’s never no getting nothing 
 one wants.’ 
 
 This fort of converfation lafted till we pewed at 
 our journey’s end; and thena new diftrefs occurred: 
 Madame Duval was eager to {peak to Lady Howard 
 and Mrs. Mirvan, and to relate her misfortunes ; 
 but fhe could not endure that Sir Clement or the 
 Captain fhould fee her in fuch diforder; for fhe 
 faid they were fo ill-natured, that inftead of pitying 
 her, they would only hake asj eft of her difaiters. 
 She therefore fent me firft into ‘ie houfe, to wait 
 for an opportunity of their being out of the way, 
 that fhe might fteal up ftairs unobferved. In this 
 J fucceeded, as the gentlemen thought it moft pru- 
 
 dent not to feem watching { or her; though they 
 both 
 
180 EVELINA, 
 both contrived to divert themfelves with peeping at 
 her as fhe pafled. : 
 
 She went immediately to-bed, where fhe had her 
 fupper. Lady Howard and Mrs. Mirvan both of 
 them very kindly fat with her, and liftened to her 
 tale with compaflionate attention; while Mifs Mir- 
 van and I retired to our own room, where I was 
 very glad to end the troubles of the day in a comfort- 
 able converfation. 
 
 The Captain’s raptures, during fupper, at the 
 fuccefs of his plan, were boundlefs. I {poke after- 
 wards to Mrs. Mirvan with the opennefs which her 
 kindnefs encourages, and begged her to remonftrate 
 with him upon the cruelty of tormenting Madame 
 Duval fo caufelefsly.: She promifed to take the firft 
 opportunity of {tarting the fubjeé&t ; but faid he was 
 at prefent fo much elated, that he would not liften 
 \ to her with any patience. However, fhould he 
 make any new efforts to moleft her, I can by no 
 means confent to be paflive. Had I imagined he 
 would have been fo violent, I would have rifked his 
 anger in her defence much fooner. 
 
 She has kept her bed all day, and declares fhe is 
 almolt bruifed to death. 
 
 Adieu, dear Sir. What a long letter have I 
 { written! I could almoft fancy I fent it you from 
 aa London! 
 
 LETTER XXXIV. 
 
 EVELINA in Continuation. 
 
 Howard Grove, May 1s. 
 Tuis infatiable Captain, if left to himfelf, 
 i would not, I believe, reft till he had tormented 
 ih Madame Duval into a fever. He feems to have no 
 delight but in terrifying or provoking her; and all 
 his 
 
EVELINA. 18k 
 
 his thoughts apparently turn upon inventing fuch 
 methods as may do it moft effectually. 
 
 She had her break faft avain in bed yeiterday morn- 
 Ing ; but during ours, the Captain, with a very 
 fignificant look at Sir Clement, gave us to under- 
 ftand, that he thought the had now refted long 
 enough to bear the hardfhips of a freth campaign. 
 
 His meaning was obvious; and, therefore, I re- 
 folved to endeavour immediately to put a {top to his 
 intended exploits. When breakfaft was over, I 
 followed Mrs. Mirvan out of the parlour, and beg- 
 ged her to lofe no time in pleading the caufe of Ma- 
 dame Duval with the Captain. ‘ My love,” anfwer- 
 ed the, «* I have already expoftulated with him ; but 
 all I can fay is fruitlefs, while his favourite, Sir Cle- 
 ment, Contrives to urge him on,” 
 
 «Then will I go and fpeak to Sir Clement,” 
 faid I, “for I know he will defitt if I requeit 
 him.”’ 
 
 “« Have a care, my dear!” faid fhe, fmiling ; «« it 
 is fometimes dangerous to make requefls to men 
 who are too defirous of receiving them.” 
 
 “* Weli then, my dear Madam, will you give me 
 leave to {peak myfef to the Captain :” 
 
 “ Willingly; nay, I will accompany you to 
 him.” 
 
 I thanked her, and we went to feek him. He 
 was walking in the garden with Sir Clement. Mrs. 
 Mirvan moit obligingly miade an opening for m 
 purpofe, by faying, « Mr, Mirvan, I have brought 
 a petitioner with me.” 
 
 «© Why, what’s the matter now ?” cried he. 
 
 I was fearful of making him angry, and ftam- 
 mered very much, when I told him, [ hoped he had 
 no new plan for alarming Madame Duval. 
 
 «¢ New plan!” cried he; « why, you don’t fup- 
 pofe the o/d one would do again, do you? Not but 
 what it was a very good one, only I doubt fhe 
 wouldn’t bite.” 
 
 ‘* Indeed, 
 
 pean 
 
182 EVELINA. 
 
 «« Indeed, Sir,” faid I, « the has already fuffered 
 too much; and I hope you will pardon me, if I 
 take the liberty of telling you, that I think it my 
 duty to do all in my power to prevent her being 
 again fo much terrified.” 
 
 A fullen gloominefs inftantly clouded his face, 
 and, turning fhort from me, he faid, I might do as 
 I pleafed, but that I fhould much fooner repent than 
 repair my officioufnefs. 
 
 I was too much difconcerted at this rebuff to at- 
 tempt making any anfwer; and finding that Sir 
 Clement warmly efpoufed my caufe, I walked 
 away, and left them to difcufs the point together. 
 
 Mrs. Mirvan, who never {peaks to the Captain 
 when he is out of humour, was glad to follow 
 me, and with her ufual fweetnefs made a thoufand 
 apologies for her hufband’s ill-manners. 
 
 When I left her, I went to Madame Duval, who 
 was juft rifen, and employed in examining the 
 clothes fhe had on the day of her ill ufage. 
 
 « Here’s a fight!” cried fhe. ‘« Come here, 
 child,—only look—FPardi, fo long as I’ve lived, I 
 never fee fo much before! Why, all my things are 
 fpoilt ; and, what's worfe, my facque was as good 
 as new. Here’s the fecond negliyee I’ve had ufed 
 in this manner!—I’m fure I was a fool to put it on 
 in fuch a lonefome place as this ; however, if I flay 
 here thefe ten years, I'll never put on another good 
 gewn, that I’m refolved.” 
 
 «« Will you let the maid try if fhe can iron it out, 
 or clean it, Ma’am?!” 
 
 « No, fhe'll only make bad worfe. But look 
 here, now, here’s a cloak! Mon Diew! why, it 
 looks like a difh-clout! Of all the unluckineffes that 
 ever I met, this is the worft! for, do you know, I 
 bought it but the day before I left Paris '—Befides, 
 into the bargain, my cap’s quite gone: where the 
 villain twitched it, I don’t know ; but I never fee no 
 more of it from that time to this. Now you muft 
 know 
 
EVELINA, 183 
 
 know this was the becomingeft cap I had in the 
 world, for I’ve never another with pink ribbon in 
 it; and, to tell you the truth, if I hadn’t thought 
 to have feen M. Du Bois, I’d no more have put it 
 on than I’d have flown ; for as to what one wears 
 in fuch a ftupid place as this, it fignifies no more 
 than nothing at all.” 
 
 She then told me, that fhe had been thinking all 
 night of a contrivance to hinder the Captain from 
 finding out her lofs of curls; which was, having a 
 large gauze handkerchief pinned on her head as a 
 hood, and faying fhe had the tooth-ach, 
 
 “* ‘To tell you the truth,” added fhe, ‘* I believe 
 that Captain is one of the worft men in the world ; 
 he’s always making a joke of me; and as to his 
 being a gentleman, he has no more manners than 
 a bear, for he’s always upon the grin when one’s 
 in diftrefs; and, I declare, I’d rather be done any 
 thing to than laugh’d at, for, to my mind, it’s one 
 or other the difagreeableft thing in the world,” 
 
 Mrs. Mirvan, I found, had been endeavouring 
 to diffuade her from the defign fhe had formed, of 
 having recourfe to the law, in order to find out 
 the fuppofed robbers; for the dreads a difcoyery 
 of the Captain, during Madame Duval’s {tay at 
 Howard Grove, as it could not fail being produc. 
 tive of infinite commotion. She has, therefore, 
 taken great pains to fhow the inutility of applying 
 to juftice, unlefs fhe were more able to defcribe 
 the offenders againft whom the would appear; and 
 has affured her, that as fhe neither heard their 
 voices, nor faw their faces, fhe cannot _poflibly 
 {wear to their perfons, or obtain any redrefs. 
 
 Madame Duval, in telling me this, extremely 
 lamented her hard fate, that fhe was thus prevented 
 from revenging her injuries ; which, however, fhe 
 vowed fhe would not be perfuaded to pocket tamely ; 
 “© becaufe,” added fhe, ‘** if fuch villains as thefe 
 are let to have their own way, and nobody takes 
 
 no 
 
184 EVELINA. 
 notice of their impudence, they'll make no 
 
 no 
 
 more ado than nothing at all of tying people in 
 ditches, and firch things as that: however, I fhatl 
 confult with M. Du , as foon as I can ferret 
 
 out wh hid himfelf. I’m fure I’ve a right 
 to his advice, for it’s all along of his gaping about 
 at the Tower that I’ve met with thefe misfor- 
 tunes.” 
 
 « M. DuBois,” faid I, “ will, I am fure, be 
 very forry when he hears what has happened.” 
 
 «© And what good will that do now? that 
 won't unfpoil all my clothes; I can tell him, I a’n’t 
 much obliged to him, though it’s no fault of his; 
 —yet it ’n’t the lefs provokinger for that. I'm 
 fure, if he had been there, to have feen me ferved 
 +n that manner, and put neck and heels into a ditch, 
 he’d no more have thought it was me than the Pope 
 of Rome. [ll promile you, whatever you may 
 think of it, I fha’n’t have no re{t, night nor day, 
 till I find out that rogue.” 
 
 « [ have no doubt, Madam, but you will foon 
 
 difcover him.” 
 
 «« Pardi, if I do, I'l hang him, as fure as fate! 
 ——but what’s the oddett, is, that he fhould take fuch 
 a fpecial fpite again{t me above all the reft! it was 
 as much for nothing as could be; for I don’t know 
 what L had done, fo particular bad, to be ufed in 
 that manner: I’m fure, I hadn’t given him no of- 
 fence, as I know of, for I never fee his face all the 
 time; and as to fcreaming a little, I think it’s very 
 hard if one muftn’t do fuch a thing as that, when 
 one’s put in fear of one’s life.” 
 
 During this converfation, fhe endeavoured to. 
 adjuft her head-drefs, but couldn’t at all pleafe 
 herfelf. Indeed, had I not been prefent, I fhould 
 have thought it impoflible tor a woman, at her time 
 of life, to be fo very difficult in regard to drefs. 
 What fhe may have in view, I cannot imagine ; 
 
 but 
 
EVELINA. 185 
 
 but the labour of the toilette feems the chief bufinefs 
 of her life. 
 
 When I left her, in my way down ftairs I met 
 Sir Clement; who, with great earneftnefs » faid he 
 mutt not be denied the honour of a mome — con- 
 verfation with me; and then, without waiting for 
 an anfwer, he led me to the garden; at the door 
 of which, however, I abfolutely infifted upon ftop- 
 ping. 
 
 He feemed very ferious, and faid, in a grave tone 
 of veice, * At length, Mifs ‘Anville, I flatter my- 
 felf I have hit upon an expedient that will oblige 
 you; and therefore, though it is death to myfelf, 
 I will put it in practice.” 
 
 I begged him to explain himfelf 
 
 «« T faw your defire of faving Madame Duval, 
 and fcarce could I refrain giving the brutal age 
 my real opinion of his favage conduét ; but I-ar 
 unwilling- to quarrel with him, left I fhould be 
 denied entrance into a houfe which you inhabit: 
 I have been endeavouring to prevail with him to 
 give up his abfurd new fcheme, but I find him 
 impenetrable: —-I have therefore determined to 
 make a pretence for fuddenly leaving this place, 
 dear as it is to me, and containing all I moft admire 
 and adore ;—and J will flay in tow n till the violence 
 of this boobyith humour is abated.’ 
 
 He — but I was filent, for I knew not 
 what I ought to fay. He took my hand, which he 
 prefled to his lips, faying, ‘ And muft I then, 
 Mifs Anville, mutt I quit you—facrifice voluntarily 
 my greateft felicity ;—and yet not be honoured with 
 one word, one look of approbation?” 
 
 I withdrew my hand, and faid, with a sed 
 laugh, ‘* You know fo well, Sir Clement, the value 
 of the favours you confer, that it would be fuperfiu- 
 ous for me to point it out.” 
 
 Charming, charming girl! how does your 
 wit, your underitanding, rife upon me daily! a 
 muf 
 
 ¥ 
 
 Ss 3 eS: 
 
 prea S 
 
186 EVELINA. 
 
 muft I, can I part with you?—will no other me- 
 thod—” 
 
 ““ O, Sir, do you fo foon repent the good office 
 you had planned for Madame Duval ?” 
 
 «© For Madame Duval ?—cruel creature, and will 
 you not even fuffer me to place to your account the 
 facrifice ] am about to make?” : 
 
 “* You may place it, Sir, to what account you 
 pleafe; but I am too much in hafte now to ftay here 
 any longer.” 
 
 And then I would have left him; but he held 
 me, and rather impatiently faid, «* If, then, I 
 cannot be fo happy as to oblige you, Mifs Anville, 
 you muft not be furprifed fhould I feek to oblige 
 myfelf. If my fcheme is not honoured with your 
 approbation, for which alone it was formed, why 
 hould I, to my own infinite diflatisfaction, purfue 
 it?” 
 
 We were then, for a few minutes, both filent ; 
 I was really unwilling he fhould give up a plan 
 which would fo effetually, break into the Cap- 
 tain’s defigns, and, at the fame time, fave me the 
 pain of difobliging him ; and I fhould inftantly and 
 thankfully have accepted his offered civility, had 
 not Mrs. Mirvan’s caution made me fearful. How- 
 ever, when he preffed me to fpeak, I faid, in an 
 ironical voice, ‘* I had thought, Sir, that the very 
 {trong fenfe you have yourfelf of the favour you 
 propofe to me, would fufficiently have repaid you 3 
 but, as I was miftaken, I muft thank you myfelf, 
 And now,” making a low court’fy, ‘ I hope, Sir, 
 you are fatisfied.” 
 
 “« Lovelieft of thy fex—” he began; but I forced 
 myfelf from him, and ran up ftairs. 
 
 Soon after Mifs Mirvan told me that Sir Clement 
 had juft received a letter, which obliged him inftantly 
 to leave the Grove, and that he had a@tually ordered 
 a chaife. J then acquainted her with the real {tate 
 of the affair. Indeed, I conceal nothing from 
 her; 
 
EVELINA. 187 
 
 her; fhe is fo gentle and fweet-tempered, that it 
 gives me great pleafure to place an entire confidence 
 in her. 
 
 At dinner, I muft own, we all miffed him: for 
 though the flightinefs of his behaviour to me, when 
 we are by ourfelves, is very diftrefling ; yet, in large 
 companies, and general converfation, he is ex- 
 tremely entertaining and agreeable. As to the Cap- 
 tain, he has been fo much chagrined at his de- 
 parture, that he has {carce fpoken a word fince he 
 went: but Madame Duval, who made her firft pub- 
 lic appearance fince her accident, was quite in rap- 
 tures that fhe efcaped feeing him. 
 
 The money which we left at the farm-houfe has 
 been returned to us. What pains the Captain 
 muft have taken to arrange and manage the adven- 
 tures which he chofe we fhould meet with! Yet 
 he inuft certainly be difcovered ; for Madame Duval 
 is already very much perplexed at having received 
 a letter this morning from M. Du Bois, in which he 
 makes no mention of his imprifonment. However, 
 fhe has fo little fufpicion, that fhe imputes his filence 
 upon the fubject, to his fears that the letter might 
 be intercepted. 
 
 Not one opportunity could I meet with, while 
 Sir Clement was here, to inquire after his friend 
 Lord Orville; but I think it was ftrange he fhould 
 never mention him unafked. Indeed, I rather 
 wonder that Mrs. Mirvan herfelf did not introduce 
 the fubje, for the always feemed particularly atten- 
 tive to him. 
 
 And now, once more, all my thoughts invo- 
 Juntarily turn upon the letter I fo foon expe& 
 from Paris. This vifit of Sir Clement has, how- 
 ever, fomewhat diverted my fears; and therefore 
 I am very glad he made it at this time. Adieu, 
 my dear Sir. 
 
f 188 | 
 
 LETT ERY KRY. 
 Sir JoHn BeLmMontT ¢o Lady Howarp. 
 
 Madam ; Paris, May 15, 
 
 Tuave this moment the honour of your 
 Ladythip’s letter, and I will not wait another, be- 
 fore I return an anfwer. 
 
 It feldom happens that a man, though extolled 
 as a faint, is really without blemifh; or that an- 
 other, though reviled as a devil, is really without 
 humanity. Perhaps the time is not very diftant, 
 when I may have the honour to convince your 
 Ladyfhip of this truth, in regard of Mr. Villars and 
 myfelf. 
 
 As to the young lady, whom Mr. Villars fo 
 obligingly propofes prefenting to me, I with her all 
 the happinefs to which, by your Ladythip’s ‘agcount, 
 fhe feems entitled; and, if fhe has a third part of 
 the merit of ser to whom you compare her, I doubt 
 not but Mr, Villars will be more fuccefsful in every 
 other application he may make for her advan- 
 tage, than he can ever be in any with which he may 
 be pleafed to favour me, 
 
 I have the honour to be, 
 Madam, 
 Your Ladythip’s moft humble 
 and moit obedient fervant, 
 Joun Bgtmonr. 
 
[ 189 ] 
 
 LET TER XSL 
 EvEeLina to the Rev, Mr. Vitiars. 
 
 Howard Grove, May 18. 
 
 We tt, my dear Sir, all is now over! the 
 letter fo anxioufly expected is at length arrived, and 
 my doom is fixed. ‘The various feelings which op- 
 prefs me, I have no language to defcribe; nor need 
 J,—you know my heart, you have yourfelf formed 
 it,—and its fentations upon this occafion you may 
 but too readily imagine. 
 
 Qutcaft as Tam, and rejeCted for ever by him to 
 whom I of right belong,—thall I now implore your 
 continued protetion?—No, no ;—I will not offend 
 your generous heart, which, open to diltrefs, has 
 no with but to relieve it, with an application that 
 would feem to imply a doubt. I am more fecure 
 than ever of your kindnefs, fince you now know 
 upon that is my fole dependance. 
 
 I endeavour to bear this ftroke with compofure, 
 and in fuch a manner as if I had already received 
 your counfel and confolation, Yet, at times, my 
 emotions are almoft too much for'me. O, Sir, 
 what a letter for a parent to write! muit I not my- 
 felf be deaf to the voice of Nature, if I could endure 
 to be thus abfolutely abandoned without regret? I 
 dare not even to you, nor would I, could I help it, 
 to myfelf, acknowledge all that I think ; for, in- 
 deed, I have fometimes fentiments upon this rejec- 
 tion, which my ftronge(t fenfe of duty can fcarcely 
 corre. Yet, fuffer me to afk,—might not this 
 an Myer have been foftened ?>—was it not enough to 
 difclaim me for ever, without treating me with con- 
 tempt, and wounding me with derifjon ? 
 
 But while I am thus thinking of myfelf, I forget 
 how much more he is the fubje& of forrow than I 
 
 : am! 
 
1g0 EVELINA. 
 
 am! Alas, what amends can he make himfetf for 
 the anguifh he is hoarding up for time to come! 
 My heart bleeds for him, whenever this reflection 
 occurs to me. 
 
 What is faid of you, my protector, my friend, 
 my benefactor !—I dare not truft myfelf to com- 
 ment upon. Gracious Heaven! what a return for 
 goodnefs fo unparalleled ! 
 
 I would fain endeavour to divert my thoughts 
 from this fubje& ; but even that is not in my 
 power: for, afflicting as this letter is to me, I find 
 that it will not be allowed to conclude the affair, 
 though it does all my expedtations; for Madame 
 Duval has determined not to let it reft here. She 
 heard the letter in great wrath, and protefted fhe 
 would not be fo eafily anfwered; fhe regretted her 
 facility in having been prevailed upon to yield the 
 direGtion of this affair to thofe who knew not how 
 to manage it, and vowed fhe would -herfelf under- 
 take and conduét it in future. 
 
 It is in vain that I have pleaded againft her refo- 
 Jution, and befought her to forbear an attack where 
 fhe has nothing to expect but refentment 5 efpecially 
 as there feems to be a hint, that Lady Howard will 
 one day be more openly dealt with. She will not 
 hear me: fhe is furioufly bent upon a project which 
 is terrible to think of ;—for fhe means to go herfelf 
 to’ Paris, take me with her, and there, face to face, 
 demand juttice! 
 
 How to appeafe or to perfuade her, I know not; 
 but for the univerfe would I not be dragged, in fuch 
 a manner, to an interview fo awful, with a parent, 
 I have never yet beheld! 
 
 Lady Howard and Mrs. Mirvan are both of them 
 infinitely fhocked at the prefent fituation of affairs, 
 aid they feem to be even more kind to me than ever; 
 and my dear Maria, who is the friend of my heart, 
 ufes her utmoilt efforts to confole me; and, when 
 
 3 fhe 
 
EVELINA. 1gt 
 
 fhe fails in her defign, with ftill greater kindnefs the 
 fympathifes in my forrow, 
 
 I very much rejoice, however, that Sir Clement 
 Willoughby had Jeft us before this letter arrived, 
 I am fure the general confufion of the houfe would 
 otherwife have betrayed to him the whole of a tale 
 which I now, more than ever, wifh to have buried 
 in oblivion. 
 
 Lady Howard thinks I ought not to difoblige 
 Madame Duval, yet fhe acknowledges the impro- 
 priety of my accompanying her abroad upon fuch an 
 enterprife. Indeed, I would rather die, than force 
 myfelf into his prefence. But fo vehement is Ma- 
 dame Duval, that fhe would inftantly have com- 
 pelled me to attend her to town in her way to Paris; 
 had not Lady Howard fo far exerted herfelf, as to 
 declare fhe could by no means confent to my quit~ 
 ting her houfe, till the gave me up to you, by whofe 
 permiflion I had entered it. 
 
 She wag extremely angry at this denial ; and the 
 Captain, by his fneers and raillery, fo much in- 
 creafed her rage, that {he has politively declared, 
 fhould your next letter difpute her authority to guide 
 me by herown pleafure, fhe will, without hefita- 
 tion, make a journey to Berry Hill, and teach you 
 to know who fhe is. 
 
 Should fhe put this threat in execution, nothing 
 could give me greater uneafinefs ; for her violence 
 and volubility would almoft diftra you. 
 
 Unable as I am to a@ for myfelf, or to judge 
 what condu& I ought to purfue, how grateful do [ 
 feel myfelf, that I have fuch a guide and dire@or to 
 counfel and inftru& me as yourfelf! 
 
 Adieu, my deareft Sir! Heaven, I truft, will 
 never let me live to be repulfed and derided by you, 
 to whom I may now fign myfelf, 
 
 Wholly your 
 EVELINA, 
 
 ES STS 
 
 Pee nore? a es eS 
 
 eats 
 
LETTER XXXVI, 
 
 Mr. Vittars to EvELina. 
 
 Berry Hill, May 21. 
 
 Let not my Evelina be depreffed by a {troke 
 of fortune for which fhe is not refponfible. No 
 breach of duty on your part has incurred the unkind- 
 nefs which has been fhown you ; nor have you, by 
 any act of imprudence, provoked either cenfure or 
 reproach. Let me intreat you, therefore, my dear- 
 eft child, to fupport yourfelf with that courage which 
 your Innocency ought to infpire ; and let all the af- 
 flition you allow yourfelf be tor him only who, not 
 having that fupport, muft one day be too feverely 
 fenfible how much he wants it. 
 
 The hint thrown out concerning myfelf,is wholly 
 unintelligible to mes my.heart, I dare own, fully 
 acquits. me.of vice; but without blemifh, 1 have 
 never ventured to pronounce myfelf. However, it 
 feems his intention to be hereafter more explicit 5 
 and then,—fhould any thing appear, that has on my 
 sart contributed to thofe misfortunes we lament, let 
 me af leaft fay, that the moft partial of my friends 
 cannot be fo much aftonifhed as I fhall myfelf be at 
 fuch a difcovery. 
 
 The mention, alfo, of any future applications 
 I may make, is equally beyond my comprehenfion. 
 But I will not dwell upon a fubject which almoft 
 compels from me reflections that cannot but be 
 wounding to a heart fo formed for filial tendernefs as 
 my Evelina’s. ‘There is an air of myftery through- 
 out the letter, the explanation of which I will await 
 in filence. 
 
 The fcheme of Madame Duval is fuchas might be 
 reafonably expected from a woman {o little inured 
 to 
 
 : 
 
EVELINA, 193 
 
 to difappointment, and fo totally incapable of 
 confidering the delicacy of your fituation. Your 
 averfenefs to her plan gives me pleafure, for it ex- 
 actly correfponds with my own. Why will the not 
 make the journey fhe projects by herfelf? She would 
 not have even the with of an oppofition to encoun- 
 ter. And then, once more, might my child and 
 myfelf be left to the quiet enjoyment of that peace- 
 ful happinefs, which the alone has interrupted. As 
 to her coming hither, I could, indeed, difpenfe 
 with fuch a vifit; but, if the will not be fatisfied 
 with my refufal by letter, I muft fubmit to the tafk 
 of giving it her in perfon. 
 
 My impatience for your return is increafed by 
 your account of Sir Clement Willoughby’s vifit to 
 Howard Grove. I am but little furprifed at the 
 perfeverance of his affiduities to interet you in his 
 favour ; but I am very much hurt that you fhould 
 be expofed to addrefles, which, by their privacy, 
 have an air that fhocksme. You cannot, my love, 
 be too circumfpe& ; the flighteft carelefinefs on your 
 part, will be taken advantage of by a man of his 
 difpofition. It is not fufficient for you to be referved; 
 his conduct even calls for your refentment: and 
 fhould he again, as will doubtlefs be his endeavour, 
 contrive to folicit your favour in private, let your 
 difdain and difpleafure be fo marked, as to conftrain 
 a change in his behaviour. Though, indeed, fhould 
 his vilit be repeated while you remain at the Grove, 
 Lady Howard mutt pardon me if I fhorten your's. 
 
 Adieu, my child.- "You will always make my 
 refpects to the hofpitable family to which we are fo 
 much obliged, 
 
 VoL. I. K 
 
t 194 | 
 
 LETTER XXXVIIL 
 
 Mr, Vituars to Lady Howarn. 
 
 Dear Madam, Berry Hill, May 27. 
 
 I sevizve your Ladyfhip will not be fur- 
 prifed at hearing I have had a vifit from Madame 
 Duval, as I doubt not her having made known her 
 intention before fhe left Howard Grove. 1 would 
 gladly have excufed myfelf this meeting, could I 
 have avoided it decently ; but, after fo long a jour- 
 ney, it was not polfible to refufe her admittance. 
 
 She told me, that fhe came to Berry Hill, in con- 
 fequence of a letter I had fent to her grand-daughter, 
 in which I had forbid her going to Paris. Very 
 roughly fhe then called me to account for the autho- 
 rity which I aifumed ; and, had I been difpofed to 
 have argued with her, fhe would very angrily have 
 difputed the right by which I ufed it. But I declin- 
 ed all debating. I therefore liftened very quietly, 
 till fhe had fo much fatigued herfelf with talking, 
 that fhe was glad, in her turn, to be filent. And 
 then, 1 begged to know the purport of her vifit. 
 
 She anfwered, that fhe came to make me relin- 
 quifh the power I had ufurped over her grand- 
 daughter ;eand aflured me fhe would not quit the 
 place till fhe fucceeded, 
 
 But 1 will not trouble your Ladyfhip with the 
 yarticulars of. this difagreeable converfation; nor 
 {hould [, but on account of the refult, have chofen 
 fo unpleafant a fubject for your perufal. However, 
 I will be as concife as I poilibly can, that the better 
 occupations of your Ladyfhip’s tim@ may be lefs im- 
 
 eded, : 
 
 When fhe found me inexorable in refufing Eve- 
 lina’s a:tending her to Paris, fhe peremptorily, infitted 
 
 that 
 
EVELINA. 195 
 
 that fhe fhould at leaft live with her in London till 
 Sir Jobn Belmont’s return. JI remonttrated againft 
 this {cheme with all the energy in my power: but 
 the conteft was vain; fhe lo(t her patience, and I 
 my time. She declared, that if I was refolute in 
 oppofing her, fhe would inftantly make a will, in 
 which fhe would leave all her fortune to {trangers, 
 though, otherwife, fhe intended her grand-daughter 
 for her fole heirefs. 
 
 To me, I own, this threat feemed of little con- 
 fequence ; I have long accuftomed myfelf to think, 
 that, witha competency, of which fhe is fure, my 
 child might be as happy as in the pofleflion of mil- 
 lions: but the incertitude of her future fate deters 
 me from following implicitly the di@ates of my 
 prefent judgment. The conneétions fhe may here- 
 after form, the {tyle of life for which fhe may be de- 
 ftined, and the future family to which fhe may be- 
 long, are confiderations which give but too much 
 weight to the menaces of Madame Duval. In 
 fhort, Madam, after a difcourfe infinitely tedious, 
 I was obliged, though very reluctantly, to com- 
 promife with this ungovernable woman, by confent- 
 ing that Evelina fhould pafs one month with her, 
 
 I never made a conceilion with fo bad a grace, or 
 fo much regret.. The violence and vulgarity of this 
 woman, :her total ignorance of propriety, the fami- 
 ly to which fhe is related, and the company fhe is 
 likely to-keep, are objections fo forcible to her hay- 
 ing the charge of this dear child, that nothing lefs 
 than my diffidence of the right 1 have of depriving 
 her of fo large a fortune, would have fees ee to 
 liften to her propofal, Indeed we parted, at laft, 
 equally difcontented ; fhe at what I had refufed, I 
 at what I had granted. 
 
 It now only remains for me to return your La- 
 dyfhip my humble acknowledgments for the kind- 
 nefs which you have fo liberally fhown to my 
 ward; and to beg you would have the goodnefs to 
 
 K-22 part 
 
 ee cae ik Ce 
 
 = 
 
 SSeS ae 
 
 Srek 
 
 CRE TIS 
 
 ae 
 
‘ 
 
 £96 EVELINA, 
 part with her, when Madame Duval thinks proper 
 to claim the promife which fhe has extorted from 
 me. [ am, 
 Dear Madam, &c. 
 
 ARTHUR VILLARS. 
 
 LETTER Xxx, 
 Mr. Vituars to EvELINA. 
 
 Berry Hill, May 28. 
 
 Wirn a reluctance which occafions me in- 
 expreflible uneafinefs, I have been almoft compelled 
 to confent that my Evelina fhould quit the protec- 
 tion of the hofpitable and refpe€table Lady Howard, 
 and accompany Madame Duval to a city which I 
 had hoped fhe would never again have entered. 
 But alas, my dear child, we are the flaves of cuftom, 
 the dupes of prejudice, and dare not ftem the tor- 
 rent of an oppoling world, even though our judg- 
 ments condemn our compliance! however, fince the 
 die is caft, we muft endeavour to make the beft of it. 
 
 You will have occafion, in the courfe of the month 
 you are to pafs with Madame Duval, for all the 
 circumfpe€tion and prudence you can call to your 
 aid. She will not, I know, propofe any thing to 
 you which fhe thinks wrong herfelf; but you 
 mutt learn not only to yudge but to a@ for yourfelf : 
 if any fchemes are ftarted, any engagements made, 
 which your underftanding reprefents to you as im- 
 proper, exert yourfelf refolutely in avoiding them 3 
 and do not, by a too palflive facility, rifk the cenfure 
 of the world, or your own future regret. 
 
 You cannot too afliduoufly attend to Madame Du- 
 val herfelf; but I would with you to mix as little as 
 polfible with her ailociates, who are not likely to be 
 among thofe whofe acquaintance would reflect credit 
 upon 
 
EVELIN As 197 
 upon you. Remember, my dear Evelina, nothing 
 is fo delicateas the reputation of a woman : it is, at 
 once, the moft beautiful and moft brittle of allhuman 
 things. 
 
 Adieu, my beloved child; I fhall be but ill at 
 eafe till this month is elapfed. 
 
 AGG 
 
 Like EER. S. 
 EVELINA to the Rev, Mr. VILLARS, 
 
 London, June 6. 
 Once more, my deareft Sir, I write to you 
 from this great city. Yefterday morning, with the 
 trueft concern, I quitted the dear inhabitants of 
 Howard Grove, and moft impatiently fhall I count 
 the days till I fee them again, Lady Howard ani 
 rs. Mirvan took leave of me with the molt flatter- 
 ing kindnefs; but indeed I knew not how to 
 part with Maria, whofe own apparent forrow re- 
 doubled mine. She made me promife to fend her a 
 letter every poft: And I fhall write to her with the 
 fame freedom, and almoft the fame confidence, you 
 allow me to make ufe of to yourfelf, 
 
 The Captain was very civil to me: but he 
 wrangled with poor Madame Duval to the laft mo- 
 ment ; and, taking me afide, jutt before we got in- 
 to the chaife, he faid, « Hark’ee, Mifs Anville, I’vea 
 favour for to atk of you, which is this ; that you wilk 
 write us word how the old gentlewoman finds her- 
 felf, when fhe fees it was all-a trick ; and what the 
 French lubber fays to it, and all about ih? 
 
 I anfwered that I would obey him, though I was 
 very little pleafed with the commillion, which, 
 to me, was highly improper; but he will either 
 treat me as an /mfermer, or make mea party in his 
 frolic, 
 
 Siess 
 
 SES 
 
198 EVELINA. 
 
 As foon as we drove away, Madame Duval, with 
 much fatisfa&tion, exclaimed, “* Drew merci, we've 
 got off at Iaft! I’m fure I never defire to fee that 
 piace again. Its a wonder I’ve got away alive ; 
 for I believe I’ve had the worft luck ever was known, 
 from the time I fet my foot upon the threfhold. I 
 know I with I’d never a gone. Befides, into the 
 bargain, it’s the moft dulleft place in all Chriften- 
 dom : there’s never no diverfions, nor nothing at all.” 
 
 Then fhe bewailed M. Du Bois ; concerning 
 whofe adventures fhe continued to make various 
 conjeQures during the reft of our journey. 
 
 When I afked her what part of London we fhould 
 refide in, fhe told me that Mr. Branghton was to 
 mect us at an inn, and would conduét us to a lodg- 
 ing. ‘Accordingly, we proceeded to a houfe in 
 Buithopfgate-ftreet, and were led by a waiter into a 
 room where we found Mr. Branghton. 
 
 He received us very civilly; but feemed rather 
 furprifed at feeing me, faying, ‘* Why, I didn’t 
 think of your bringing Mifs; however, fhe’s very 
 welcome.” 
 
 « ]’ll tell you how it was,” faid Madame Duval : 
 you muft know I’ve a mind to take the girl to 
 Paris, that fhe may fee fomething of the world, and 
 improve herfelfa little ; befides, I’ve another reafon, 
 that you and I will talk more about. But do you 
 know, that meddling old parfon, as I told you of, 
 would not let her gos however, I’m refolved I'll be 
 even with him; for I fhall take her on with me, 
 without faying never a word more to nobody.” 
 
 I ftarted at this intimation, which very much fur- 
 prifed me. But I am very glad fhe has difcovered 
 her intention, as I fhall be carefully upon my 
 guard not to venture from town with her. 
 
 * Mr. Branghton then hoped we had: paffed our 
 time agreeably in the country. 
 
 «© O Lord, Coufin,” cried fhe, ‘* I’ve been the 
 miferableft creature in the world! I’m fure all the 
 horfes 
 
 7 
 
EVELINA, 199 
 
 horfes in London tha’n’t drag me into the countr y 
 again of one while: why, how do you think I’ve 
 been ferved? ‘—only guefs.” 
 
 «« Indeed, Coufin, I can’t pretend to do thar.” 
 
 «¢ Why, then, I'll tell you. Do you know, I’ve 
 been robbed !- that is, the villain would have 
 robbed me if he could, only I'd fecured all my 
 money.” ‘ i 
 
 «« Why then, Coufin, I think your”lofs can’t 
 have been very great. 
 
 “O Lord, you don’t know what you're a faying ; 
 you're talking in the unthinkingeft manner in the 
 world: why, it was all alon 1g of not having no mo- 
 ney that I met with that misfortune.” 
 
 “ How's that, Coufin? I don’t fee what great 
 misfortune you can have met with, if you’d fecured 
 all your money.” 
 
 *« That’s becaufe you don’t know nothing of the 
 matter: for there the villain came tothe ‘chaife 5 
 and becaufe we hadn’t got nothing to give S 
 though he’d no more r; ght to our money than the 
 man in the moon, yet, do. you know, he fellinto the 
 greateft paflion ever you fee, and abufed me in ict 
 a manner, and put me in a ditch, and got a | Tope 
 o purpofe to hang me ;—and I'm fuse, f that 
 wasn’t misfortune enough, why [| eS bane 
 what is.” 
 
 *« This isa hard cafe, indeed, Confin. But why 
 don’t you go to Juftice Fielding ?” 
 
 « Q, as to that, I’m a going to him dire tly 5 
 but only I want firft to fee poor M. Du Bois ; for 
 the oddeft thing of allis, that he has wrote to me, 
 and never faid nothing of where he is, nor what’s 
 become of him, nor nothing elfe.” 
 
 Be M. Du Bois! why he’s at my houfe at this very 
 time.” 
 
 ‘« M. Du Bois at your houfe! well, I declare this 
 is the furprifingeft part of all! SARS I affure 
 you, Ithink he might have comed for me, as well 
 
 as 
 
 ti 
 I 
 
 eesti 
 
 sees 
 
200 EVELINA. 
 
 as you, confidering what I have gone through on 
 his account; for, to tell you the truth, it was all 
 along of him that I met with that accident; fo I 
 don’t take it very kind of him, I promife you.” 
 
 « Well, but Coufin, tell me fome of the parti- 
 culars of this affair.” 
 
 «As to the particulars, I’m fure they’d make 
 your hair ftand an end to hear them ; however, the 
 beginning of it all was through the fault of M. Du 
 Bois: but I'll affure you, he may take care of him- 
 felf in future, fince he don’t fo much as come to fee 
 if I'm dead or alive.—But there I went for him to 
 a juftice of peace, and rodeall out of the way, and 
 did every thing in the world, and was ufed worfcr 
 than a dog, and all for the fake of ferving of him ; 
 and now, you fee, he don’t fo much—well, I was 
 a tool for my pains.—However, he may get fome- 
 body elfe to be treated fo another time ; for if he’s 
 taken up every day in the week, [ll never go after 
 him no more.” 
 
 This occafioned an explanation ; in the courfe of 
 which Madame Duval, to her utter amazement, 
 heard that M. Du Bois had never left London during 
 her abfence! nor did Mr. Branghton believe that he 
 had ever been to the Tower, or met with any kind 
 of accident. 
 
 Almoft inftantly the whole truth of the tranf- 
 action feemed to rujfb upon ber mind, and her wrath 
 was inconceivably violent. She afked me a thou- 
 fand queftions in a breath ; but, fortunately was too 
 vehement to attend to my embarraflment, which 
 mutt, otherwife, have betrayed my knowledge of 
 the deceit. Revenge was her firft with; and the 
 vowed fhe would go the next morning to Juftice 
 Fielding, and inquire what punifhment fhe might 
 lawfully infli€@ upon the Captain for his affault. 
 
 I believe we were an hour in Bifhopfgate-ftreet 
 before poor Madame Duval could allow any thing 
 to be mentioned but her own ftory ; at length, how- 
 
 ever, 
 
E.VELIN &A, 20f 
 
 ever, Mr. Branghton told her, that M. Du Bois? 
 and all his own family, were waiting for her at his. 
 houfe. A hackney-coach was then called, and we 
 proceeded to Snow-hill. 
 
 Mr. Branghton’s houfe is {mall and inconvenient . 
 though his fhop, which takes in all the ground-floor, 
 is large and commodious. I believe I told you be- 
 fore that he is a filver-{mith. 
 
 We were condu&ed up two pair of ftairs; for 
 the dining-reom, Mr. Branghton told us, was det. 
 His two daughters, their brother, M. Du Bois, and 
 a young man, were at tea, They had waited fome 
 time for Madame Duval, but I found they had not 
 any expectation that F thould accompany her; and 
 the young ladies, I believe, were rather more fur- 
 prifed than pleafed when I made my appearance; 
 for they feemed hurt that I fhould fee their apart- 
 ment. Indeed, I would Willingly have faved thera 
 that pain, had it been in my power. 
 
 The firft perfon who faw me was M. Du Bois: 
 ** Ab, mon Dieu !” exclaimed he, ‘* voila Mademoi~ 
 elle I” 
 
 ‘* Goodnefs,” cried young Branghton, ‘*if there 
 isn’t Mifs !” 
 
 “« Lord, fo: there is,” faid Mifs Polly 5 ** well, 
 I’m fure I fhould never have dreamed of Mifs’s 
 coming.” 
 
 ‘* Nor I neither; I’m fure,” cried Mifs Brangh- 
 ton, ‘ or elfe 1 would not have been in this room 
 to fee her; I’m quite afhamed about it ;—only not 
 thinking of feeing any body but my aunt—how- 
 ever, Tom, it’s all your fault; for you know very 
 well I wanted to borrow Mr. Smith’s room, only 
 you were fo grumpy you would not let me.” 
 
 “« Lord, what fignifies?” faid the brother ; « E 
 dare be fworn Mifs has been up two pair of ftairs 
 before now ;—ha’n’t you, Milfs?” 
 
 I begged that I might not give them the leaft dif- 
 
 turbance ; 
 
202 EVELINA. 
 
 turbance; and affured them that I had not any 
 choice in regard to what rocm we fat in. 
 
 «© Well,” faid Mifs Polly, when you come 
 next, Mifs, we'll have Mr. Smith’s room ; and it’s 
 a very pretty one, and only up one pair of ftairs, 
 and nicely furnifhed, and every thing.” 
 
 « To fay the truth,” faid Mifs Branghton, I 
 thought that my coufin would not, upon any ac- 
 count, have come to town in the fummer-time ; for 
 it's not at all the fu/bion ;—fo, to be fure, thinks I, 
 fhe’ll {tay till September, when the play-houfes open.” 
 
 This was my reception, which I believe you will 
 not call a very cordial one, Madame Duval, who, 
 after having feverely reprimanded M. Du Bois for 
 his negligence, was juft entering upon the ftory of 
 her misfortunes, now wholly engaged the company. 
 
 M. Du Bois liftened to her with a look of the ut- 
 moft horror, repeatedly lifting up his eyes and hands, 
 and exclaiming, ** Ociel! quel barbare i” The young 
 ladies gave her the moft earneft attention ; but their 
 brother, aud the young man, kept a broad grin 
 upon their faces during the whole recital. She was 
 however, too much engaged to obferve them: but, 
 when fhe mentioned having been tied in a ditch, 
 young Branghton, nolonger able to conftrain himfelf, 
 burft into a loud laugh, declaring that he had never 
 heard any thing fo funny in his life ! His laugh was 
 heartily re-echoed by his friend ; the Mifs Brangh- 
 tong could not refilt the example; and poor Madame 
 Duval, to her extreme amazement, was abfolutely 
 overp »wered and ftopped by the violence of their 
 yoirth. 
 
 For fome minutes the room feemed quite in an 
 uproar; the rage of Madame Duval, the aftonith- 
 ment of Mr. Du Bois, and the angry interrogatories 
 of Mr. Branghton, on one fide; the convulfive 
 tittering of the fifters, and the loud laughs of the 
 young men, on the other, occafioned fuch noife, 
 
 ' pailion, 
 
 a 
 
 : 
 f 
 4 
 
EVELINA. 203 
 
 paflion, and confufion, that had any one ftopped an 
 
 inftant on the { {tairs, he muft have concluded him- . 
 
 felf in Bedlam. At ler igth, however, the father 
 brought them to order ; ‘and, half-laughing, half- 
 frightened, they made Matanié Duval ipine very 
 awkward apologies. But fhe would not be prevailed 
 upon to continue her narrative, till they had proteft- 
 ed they were laughing at the Ca aptain, and not at 
 her. Appeated by this, fhe refumed her {tory ; which, 
 by the help of ftuffing handkerchiefs cepiens: mouths, 
 the young people heard with tolerable decency. 
 
 “very body agreed, that the ill ufage the Captain 
 had given her was adtionable 5 and Mr. Branghton 
 faid, he was fure {he might recover what damages fhe 
 pleafed, fince fhe had been put in fear of her life, 
 
 She then, with great delight, declared, that fhe 
 would lofe no time in fatistying her revenge, and 
 vowed fhe would not be con tented with lefs than 
 half his fortune: ‘* For though,” faid fhe, «* I don’t 
 put no value upon the money, becaufe, Dien merci, 
 J ha’n’t no want of it, yet I don’t with for nothing 
 fo much as to. punifh that fellow; for, I’m Thre, 
 whatever's the caufe of it, he owes me a great 
 grudge, and 1 know no more what it’s for than you 
 do ; but he’s always been doing me one fpite or 
 other ever fince I knew him.” 
 
 Soon after tea, ! Mifs Branghton took ay opportu- 
 nity to tell me, in a w hifper, | that the young man 
 I faw was a lover of her {fifter’ s, that as hame was 
 Brown, and that he was a haberdather ; with many 
 other particulars of his circumflances ‘and family : 
 and then fhe declared her utter ay rerion to the 
 thoughts of fuch a match; but added, that her fifter 
 had no manner of fpirit ur Nertoaess though, for 
 her part, fhe would ten times rather die an old 
 maid, than marry any perfon but a gentleman, 
 «© And, for that matter,” added fhe, ‘« I believe 
 Polly herfelf don’t care much for him, only fhe’s in 
 fuch a hurry, becaufe, I fuppofe, the’s a mind to 
 
 ‘be 
 
 SS RSE PS ae 
 
 si 
 
 we 
 
 FSS SS 
 
 Pe aa te 
 
 ERE 
 
204. EVELINA, 
 
 be married before me: however, fhe’s very wel- 
 come; for, I’m fure, J don’t care a pin’s point 
 whether I ever marry at all;—it’s all one to me.” 
 
 Some time after this, Mifs Polly contrived to tell 
 her ttory. She affured me, with much tittering, 
 that her fifter was in a great fright left fhe fhould be 
 marricd firft. ‘* So I make her believe that I will,” 
 continued fhe; * for I love dearly to plague her a 
 little; though, I declare, I don’t intend to have 
 
 Ar. Brown in reality; I’m fure I don’t like him 
 half well enough,—do you, Mifs?” 
 
 “« Tt is not poflible for me to judge of his merits,” 
 faid I, «as Iam entirely a {tranger to him.” 
 
 «* But what do you think of him, Mifs?” 
 
 «« Why, really, I—I don’t know—”* 
 
 ‘* But do you think him handfome? Some people 
 reckon him to have a good pretty perfon ;—but, I’m 
 fure, for my part, I think he’s monftrous ugly :— 
 don’t you, Mifs:” 
 
 ‘Tam no judge,—but I think his perfon is very 
 ——very well,”’ 
 
 “ Very well! —Why, pray, Mifs,” in a tone of 
 vexation, ** what fault can you find with it ?” 
 
 ‘¢ ©; none at all!” 
 
 “I'm fure you muft be very ill-natured if you 
 could. Now there’s Diddy fays the thinks nothing 
 of him,—but I know it’s all out of fpite. You mutt 
 know, Mifs, it makes heras mad as can be that I 
 fhould have a lover before her; but the’s fo proud 
 that nobody will court her, and I often tell her the’ll 
 die an old maid. But the thing is, fhe has taken it 
 into her head to have a liking for Mr. Smith, as 
 lodges on the firlt floor; but, Lord, he'll never 
 have her, for he’s quite a fine gentleman; and be- 
 fides, Mr. Brown heard him fay one day, that he’d 
 never marry as long as he lived, for he’d no opinion 
 of matrimony.” 
 
 «« And did you tell your fifter this ?” 
 
 ©, to 
 
EVELINA. 205 
 
 *«O, to be fure, I told her dire@tly ; but the did 
 not mind me ; however, if fhe will bea fool, the 
 mutt.” 
 
 This extreme want of affeGtion and good-nature 
 increafed the diftafte I already felt for thefe un- 
 amiable fifters ; and a confidence fo entirely unfoli- 
 cited and unneceflary, manifefted equally their folly 
 and their want of decency. 
 
 I was very glad when the time for our departing 
 arrived. Mr. Branghton faid our lodgings were in 
 Holborn, that we might be near his houfe, and 
 neighbourly. He accompanied us to them himfelf. 
 
 Our rooms are large, and not inconvenient ; our 
 landlord is an hofier. Iam fure I have a thoufand 
 reafons to rejoice that I am fo little known: for my 
 prefent fituation is, in every refpect, very unen- 
 viable; and I would not, for the world, be feen by 
 any acquaintance of Mrs. Mirvan, 
 
 This morning Madame Duval, attended by all 
 the Branghtons, actually went to a Juftice in the 
 neighbourhood, to report the Captain’s ill ufage of 
 her. I had great difficulty in excufing myfelf from 
 being of the party, which would have given me very 
 ferious concern. Indeed, I was extremely anxious, 
 though at home, till I heard the refult of the appli- 
 cation ; for J dread to think of the uneafinefs which 
 fuch an affair would occafion the amiable Mrs. Mire 
 van. But, fortunately, Madame Duval has received 
 very little encouragement to proceed in her defign ; 
 for fhe has been informed, that, as fhe neither heard 
 the voice, nor faw the face of the perfon fufpected, 
 fhe will find it difficult to caft him upon conjecture, 
 and will have but little probability of gaining her 
 caufe, unlefs fhe can procure witneffes of the tranf- 
 action. Mr. Branghton, therefore, who has con- 
 fidered all the circumftances of the affair, is of 
 opinion, that the law-fuit will not only be expenfive, 
 but tedious and hazardous, and has advifed againft 
 it. Madame Duval, though very unwillingly, has 
 acquiefced 
 
206 EVELINA. 
 
 acquiefced in his decifion ; but vows, that if ever 
 fhe is fo affronted again, fhe will be revenged, even 
 if the ruins herfelf. I am extremely glad that this 
 ridiculous adventure feems now likely toend with- 
 out more ferious confequences. 
 
 Adien, my deareft Sir. My dire&tion is at Mr. 
 Dawkins’s, a hofier in High Holborn. 
 
 LETTER XLL 
 
 Evriina to Mii Mirvan. 
 June 7th. 
 
 T wave no words, my fweet friend, to ex- 
 prefs the thankfulnefs I feel for the unbounded kind- 
 nefs which you, your dear mother, and the much- 
 honoured Lady Howard, have fhewn me ; and ftill 
 lefs can [ find language to tell you with .what re- 
 lu@tance J parted from fuch dear and generous 
 friends, whote goodnefs reflects, at once, fo much 
 honour on their own hearts, and on her to whom it 
 has been fo liberally beftowed. But I will not repeat 
 what I have already written to the kind Mrs. Mir- 
 yan; I willremember your admonitions, and con- 
 fine to my own breaft that gratitude with which you 
 have filled it, and teach my pen to d well upon fub- 
 jeats lefs painful to my generous corre{pondent. 
 
 O, Maria! London now feems no longer the fame 
 place where I lately enjoyed fo much happinefs : 
 every thing is new and ftrange to me; even the 
 town itfelf has not the fame afpect.—My fitmation 
 fo altered! —my home fo different! — my com- 
 panions fo changed !—Bnt you well know my 
 averfenefs to this journey. 
 
 Indeed, to me, London now feems a defart:. that 
 gay and bufy appearance it fo lately wore, is now 
 {ucceded by a look of gloom, fatigue, and laffitude ; 
 
 the 
 
ry 
 
 EVELINA. 207 
 
 the air feems ftagnant, the heat is intenfe, the duft 
 intolerable, and the mhabitants illiterate and under- 
 bred. At leaft, fuch is the face of things in the 
 part of the town where I at prefent refide. 
 
 Tell me, my dear Maria, do you never retrace in 
 yourmemory the time we pafled here when together ? 
 to mine, it recurs for ever! And yet I think I rather 
 recolle& a dream, or fome vifionary fancy, than a 
 
 OPN She 
 
 reality.— That I fhould ever have been known to | 
 Lord Orville,—that I fhould have fpoken to—have bd 
 danced with him,—feems now a romantic illufion: i 
 
 and that elegant politenefs, that flattering attention, ba 
 
 that high-bred delicacy, which fo much diftinguifh- 4 
 ed him above all other men, and which ftruck us i 
 with fuch admiration, I nowretrace the remem- i 
 brance of, rather as belonging to an object of ideal i 
 perfection, formed by my own imagination, than if 
 to a being of the fame race and nature as thofe with i 
 
 3) 
 
 whom I at prefent converfe. ‘ 
 
 I have no news for you, my dear Mifs Mirvan ; & 
 for all that I could venture to fay of Madame Du- : 
 val I have already written to your fweet mother ; 
 and as to. adventures, I have none to record, Si- 
 tuated as I now. am, I heartily hope I fhall not it 
 meet with any; my with is to remain quiet and un- 
 noticed. 
 
 Adieu! excufe the gravity of this letter; and 
 believe me, 
 
 Your moft fincerely 
 
 affeCtianate and obliged 
 
 EVELINA ANVILLE, 
 
f 208 } 
 
 LETTER XLIL 
 
 Evetina 70 the Revs Mr. Vivvars. 
 
 Holborn, June g. 
 
 Yesrerpay morning we received an invi- 
 tation to dine and fpend the day at Mr. Branghton’s; 
 and M. Du Bois, who was alfo invited, called to 
 conduét us to Snow-Hill. 
 
 Young Branghton received us at the door; and 
 the firft words he {poke were, “ Do you know, 
 Sifters a’n’t dreffed yet ?” 
 
 Then, hurrying us into the houfe, he faid to me, 
 «« Come, Mifs, you fhall go up ftairs and catch ‘em, 
 —I dare fay they’re at the glafs.” 
 
 He would have taken my hand; but I declined 
 this civility, and begged to follow Madame Duval. 
 
 Mr. Branghton then appeared, and led the way 
 himfelf. We went, as before, up two pair of ftairs; 
 but the moment the father opened the door, the 
 daughters both gave a loud fcream. We all {topped ; 
 and then Mifs Branghton called out, « Lord, Papa, 
 what do you bring the company up here for? why, 
 Polly and I a’n’t half drefled.” 
 
 «« More fhame for you,” anfwered he; § here’s 
 your aunt, and coufin, and M. Du Bois, all wait- 
 ing, and ne’er a room to take them to.” 
 
 “«« Who'd have thought of their coming fo foon?” 
 cried fhe: “ I’m fure for my part I thought Mifs. 
 
 was ufed to nothing but quality hours,” 
 
 «« Why, I fha’n't be ready this half-hour yet,” 
 faid Mifs Polly ; «* can’t they ftay in the fhop till 
 we're drefled?” 
 
 Mr. Branghton was very angry, and fcolded them. 
 violently: however, we were obliged to defcend, 
 and {tools were procured for us in the fhop, where 
 
 Wwe 
 
 TT 
 
EVELINA, 209 
 
 we found the brother, who was highly delighted, he 
 faid, that his fifters had been ca/ched; and he 
 thought epee to entertain me with a long account 
 of thei ir tedioufnefs, and the many quarrel s they all 
 had together. 
 
 W hen, a at length, thefe ladies were equipped to 
 their fatisfaction, they made their appearance ; but 
 before any converfation was fuffered to pafs between 
 them and us, they had a long and moft dif: agreeable 
 dialogue with their SHEN to whofe reprimands, 
 though fo juftly incurred, they replied with the ut- 
 moft pertnefs aul rudenefs, while their brother all 
 the time laughed aloud, 
 
 The moment they perceived this, they were fo 
 much provoked, that, inftead of iiking any apo-~ 
 logies to Madame Duval, they next began a quarrel 
 with him. « ‘Tom, what do you laugh for? I 
 wonder what bufinefs you have to be always a 
 laughing when Papa fcolds us?” 
 
 @ £% hen what bufinefs have you to be fuch a while 
 getting on your clot! hes? You're never ready, you 
 know well enough.’ 
 
 « Lord, Sir, i wonder what’s that to you! I 
 wifh you’d mind your own affairs, and not trouble 
 yourfelf about ours. How fhould a boy like you 
 know any thing?” 
 
 «« A boy, indeed! not fuch a boy, neither: I'll 
 warrant you'll be glad to be as young when you 
 come to be old maids.” 
 
 This fort of dialogue we were amufed with till 
 dinner was ready, when we again mounted up two 
 pair of ftairs. 
 
 In our way, Mifs Polly told me that her fitter 
 had afked Mr. Smith for his room to dine in, but 
 he had refufed to lend it; ‘* becaufe,” fhe faid, ** one 
 day it happened to be a little greafed: however, 
 we {hall have it to drink tea in, and then, perhaps, 
 you may fee him; and I affure you he’s quite like 
 .one of the quality, and drefles as fine, and goes 
 to 
 
 > eS Say 
 
 nena 
 
 sa 7 a 
 
 eine 
 
210 EVELINA. 
 
 to balls and dances, and every thing quite in tafte; 
 and befides, Mifs, he keeps a foot-boy of his own 
 too.” 
 
 The dinner was ill-ferved, ill-cooked, and ill- 
 managed. The maid who waited had fo often to 
 go down ftairs for fomething that was forgotten, 
 that the Branghtons were perpetually obliged to rife 
 from table themfelves, to get plates, knives and 
 forks, bread or beer. Had they been without pre- 
 tenfions, all this would have feemed of no confe= 
 quence; but they aimed at appearing to advantage, 
 and even fancied they fucceeded. However, the 
 moft difagreeable part of our fare was, that the 
 whole family continually difputed whofe turn it was 
 to rife, and whofe’to be allowed to fit ftill. 
 
 When this meal was over, Madame Duval, ever 
 eager to difcourfe upon her travels, entered into an 
 argument with Mr. Branghton, and, in-broken 
 Englifh, M. Du Bois, concerning the French nation: 
 and Mifs Polly, then addrefling herfelf to me, faid, 
 «© Don’t you think, Mifs, it’s very dull fitting up 
 ftairs here? we'd better to go down /a fhop, and then 
 we fhall fee the people go by.” 
 
 «« Lord, Poll,” faid the brother, ‘* you’re always 
 wanting to be ftaring and gaping; and I’m fure you 
 needn’t be fo fond of fhewing yourfelf, for you're 
 ugly enough to frighten a horfe,”’ 
 
 “ Ugly, indeed! I wonder which is beft; you or 
 me. But, I tell you what, Tom, you've no need 
 to give yourfelf fuch airs; for, if you do, I'll tell 
 Mifs of—you know what oe 
 
 «« Who cares if you do? you may tell what you 
 will; I don’t mind u 
 
 «¢ Indeed,” cried I, “ I do not defire to hear any 
 fecrets.” 
 
 «¢ O, but I’m refolved I'll tell you, becaufe Tom’s 
 fo very fpiteful, You muft know, Mifs, t’other 
 
 night—— 
 iy « Poll, 
 
” 
 
 EVELINA. 21k 
 
 «« Poll,” cried the brother, ‘* if you tell of that, 
 Mifs fhall know all about your meeting young 
 Brown,—you Shae wh en !—-So I’ll be quits with 
 you one way or another 
 
 Mifs Polly coloured, and again propofed our going 
 down ftairs till Mr. Smith’s room was ready for our 
 reception. 
 
 « Aye, fo we will,” faid Mifs Branghton; ¢* I'll 
 affre you, Coufin, we have fome very gent teel people 
 pafs by our {hop fometimes. Polly an d I alw ays go 
 and fit there when we’ve cleaned ourfelves.” 
 
 «© Yes, Mifs,” cried the brother, ‘* they do no- 
 thing elfe all day long; when father don’t feold 
 them. But the beft fiin is, when they’ve got all 
 their dirty things on, and all their hair about their 
 ears, fometimes I fend young Brown up ftairs to 
 them; and then there’s ft cha fu :fs!—there they hide 
 themfelves, and run away, and fqueel and fquall, 
 like any thing mad: and fo then I puts the two cats 
 into the room, and I gives them a good whi ppings 
 and fo that fets them a fqualling too ; ; fo there’s fuch 
 a noife and fuch an uproar Ma yrd, you can’t think, 
 Mifs, what fun itis! 
 
 This occafioned a frefh quarrel with the fitters ; 
 at the end of aioe it was at length decided that we 
 fhould go to the f fhop. 
 
 In our way down {tairs, Mifs Branghton faid aloud, 
 ¢* T wonder when Mr. Smith’s room will be ready.” 
 
 «¢ Sodo I,” anfwered Poll y; ‘* I’m fure we fhould 
 not do any harm to it now.” 
 
 This hint liad not the defired effet ; for we were 
 fuffered to proceed very quietly. 
 
 As we entered the fhop, I obferved a& young 
 man in deep mourning leaning againtl the wall, 
 with his arms folded, and his eyes fixed on the 
 ground, apj parently in profound ae melancholy 
 meditation ; but the moment he perceived us, he 
 ftarted, and, making a paffing bow, very abruptl y 
 retired. a I found he was permitted to go guite 
 aanicced, 
 
 a 
 
212 EVELINA. 
 
 unnoticed, I could not forbear enquiring who he 
 was. 
 
 ‘* Lord!” anfwered Mifs Branghton, ‘* he’s no- 
 thing but a poor Scotch poet.” 
 
 «« For my part,” faid Mifs Polly, « I believe he’s 
 juft ftarved, for I don’t find he has any thing to live 
 upon. 
 
 «« Live upon!” cried the brother ; « why, he’s a 
 poet, you know, fo he may live upon learning,” 
 
 «« Aye, and good enough for him, too,” faid Mifs 
 Branghton ; ‘for he’s as proud as he’s poor.” 
 
 “« Like enough,” replied the brother; “ but, for 
 all that, you won’t find he will live without meat 
 and drink: no, no, catch a Scotchman at that if you 
 can! why, they only come here for what they can get.” 
 
 ‘©Tm fure,” faid Mifs Branghton, “ 1 wonder 
 Papa'll be fuch a fool as to let him {tay in the houfe, 
 for I dare fay he'll never pay for his lodging.” 
 
 «« Why, no more he would, if he could get an- 
 other lodger: you know the bill’s been put up this 
 fortnight. Mifs, if you fhould hear of a perfon 
 that wants a room, I affure you it is a very good 
 one, for all it’s up three pair of ftairs. 
 
 I anfwered, that as I had no acquaintance in 
 London, I had not any chance of affifting them: 
 but both my compaflion and my curiofity were ex- 
 cited for this poor young man; and I afked them 
 fome further particulars concerning him. 
 
 They then acquainted me, that they had only 
 known him three months. When he firtt lodged 
 with them, he agreed to board alfo; but had lately 
 told them hé would eat by himfelf, though they alk 
 believed he had hardly ever tafted a morfel of meat 
 fince he left their table, They faid, that he had al- 
 ways appeared very low-fpirited; but for the laft 
 month, he had been du//er than ever ; and, all ofa 
 fudden, had put himfelf into mourning, though they 
 knew not for whom nor for what; but, they fup- 
 pofed it was only for convenience, as no perfon had 
 
 ever 
 
Fy yr 
 
 EV ELI-N A. 213 
 
 ever been to fee or inquire for him fince his refidence 
 amongft them: and they were fure he was very poor, 
 as he had not paid for his lodgings the la{t three 
 weeks: and, finally, they concluded he was a poet, 
 or elfe half-crazy, becaufe they had, at different 
 times, found fcraps of poetry in his room. 
 
 They then produced fome unfinifhed verfes, writ- 
 ten on {mall pieces of paper, unconneéted, and of a 
 moft melancholy caft. Among them was the frag- 
 ment of an ede, which, at my requeft, they lent 
 me to copy; and as you may perhaps like to fee it, 
 I will write it now. 
 
 O LIFE! thou lingering dream of grief, of pain, 
 And every ill that Nature can fuftain, 
 Strange, mutable, and wild! 
 Now flattering with Hope moft fair, 
 Deprefling now with fell Defpair, 
 The nurfe of Guilt, the flave of Pride, 
 That, like a wayward child, 
 Who, to himfelf a foe, 
 Sees joy alone in what’s denied, 
 In what is granted, woe! 
 
 O thou poor, feeble, flecting pow’r, 
 
 By Vice feduc’d, by Folly woo’d, 
 
 By Mis’ry, Shame, Remorfe, purfu’d; 
 
 And as thy toilfome fleps proceed, 
 
 Seeming to Youth the faireft flow’r, 
 
 Proving to Age the rankeft weed, 
 
 A gilded, but a bitter pill, 
 Of varied, great, and complicated ill. 
 Thefe lines are harth, but they indicate an in- 
 
 ternal wretchednefs, which, I own, affects me, 
 Surely this young man mutt be involved in misfor- 
 tunes of no common nature: but I cannot imagine 
 what can induce him to remain with this unfeeling 
 family, where he is, moft unworthily, defpifed for 
 being poor, and moft illiberally detefted for being a 
 Scotchman. He may, indeed, have, motives which 
 he cannot furmount,~ for fubmitting to fuch a fitu- 
 ation, Whatever they are, I moft heartily pity him, 
 and cannot but with it were in my power to afford 
 him fome relief. 
 During 
 
“gI4 EVELINA. 
 
 During this converfation, Mr. Smith’s foot-boy 
 came to Mifs Branghton, and informed her, that 
 his mafter faid fhe might have the room now when 
 fhe liked it, for that he was prefently going out. 
 
 This very genteel meflage, though it perfeatly 
 fatisfied the Mifs Branghtons, by no means added 
 to my defire of being introduced to this gentleman: 
 and upon their rifing, with intention to accept his 
 offer, I begged they would excufe my attending 
 them, and faid I would fit with Madame Duval till 
 the tea was ready. 
 
 I therefore once more went up two pair of flairs 
 with young Branghton, who infifted upon accom- 
 panying me ; and there we remained till Mr. Smith’s 
 foot-boy fummoned us to tea, when I followed Ma- 
 dame Duval into the dining-room. 
 
 The Mifs Branghtons were feated at one window, 
 and Mr. Smith was lolling indolently out of the 
 other. They all approached us at our entrance ; 
 and Mr. Smith, probably to fhow he was matter of 
 the apartment, moft officioufly handed me to a great 
 chair at the upper end of the room, without taking 
 any notice of Madame Duval, till I rofe and offered 
 her my own feat. 
 
 Leaving the reft of the company to entertain them- 
 felves, he very abruptly began to addrefs himfelf to 
 me, in a ftyle of gallantry equally new and dife 
 agreeable tome. It is true, no man can poflibly 
 pay me greater compliments, or make more fine 
 {fpeeches, than Sir Clement Willoughby: yet his 
 language, though too flowery, is always that of a 
 gentleman ; and his addrefs and manners are fo very 
 fuperior to thofe of the inhabitants of this houfe, 
 that, to make any comparifon between him and Mr. 
 Smith, would be extremely unjuft. This latter feems 
 very defirous of appearing a man of gaicty and fpirit 5 
 but his vivacity is fo low-bred, and his whole beha- 
 viour fo forward and difagrecable, that I fhould pre- 
 fer the company of du//ne/s itfelf, even as that god- 
 defs 
 
 : 
 
ES 
 
 EVELINA, 215 
 defs is defcribed by Pope, to that of this Jprightly 
 
 young man. 
 
 He made many apologies that he had not lent his 
 room for our dinner, which, he faid, he fhould 
 certainly have done, had he feen me firft; and he 
 affured me, that when I came again, he thould be 
 very glad to oblige me. 
 
 I told him, and with fincerity, that every part of 
 the houfe was equally indifferent to me. : 
 
 «¢ Why, Ma’am, the truth is, Mifs Biddy and 
 Polly take no care of any thing; elfe, I’m fure, they 
 fhould be always welcome to my room; for I’m 
 never fo happy as in obliging the ladies,—that’s my 
 character, Ma’am:—but, really, the laft time they 
 had it, every thing was made fo greafy and fo natty, 
 that, upon my word, to a man who withes to have 
 things a little genteel, it was quite cruel. Now, as 
 to you, Ma’am, it’s quite another thing ; for I fhould 
 not mind if every thing I had was fpoilt, for the 
 fake of having the pleafure to oblige you ; and [ 
 allure you, Ma’am, it makes me quite happy that I 
 have a room good enough to receive you.” 
 
 This elegant fpeech was followed by many others, 
 fo much in the fame {tyle, that to write them would 
 be fuperfluous ; and as he did not allow me a mo- 
 ment to {peak to any other perfon, the reft of the 
 evening was confumed in a paiuful attention to this 
 irkfome young man, who feemed to intend appear- 
 ing before me to the utmoft advantage. 
 
 Adieu, my dear Sir, I fear you will be fick of 
 reading about this family ; yet I muft write of them, 
 or not of any, fince I mix with no other, Happy 
 
 fhall I be when [ quit them all, and again return 
 to Berry Hill! 
 
[ 216 J 
 
 LETTER XLII. 
 
 Everina iz Continuation. 
 June roth. 
 
 Tuts morning Mr. Smith called on purpofes 
 he faid, to offer me a ticket for the next Hampitead 
 affembly. I thanked him, but defired to be excufed 
 accepting it: he would not, however, be denied, 
 nor anfwered ; and, in a manner both vehement and 
 free, preffed and urged his offer, till 1 was wearied 
 to death: but, when he found me refolute, he 
 feemed thunderftruck with amazement, and thought 
 proper to defire I would tell him my reafons. 
 
 Obvious asi they muft furely have been to any 
 other perfon, they were fuch as I knew not how to 
 repeat to him ; and, when he found I hefitated, he 
 faid, <‘ Indeed Ma’am, you are too modeft ; I af- 
 fure you the ticket is quite at your fervice, and [I 
 fhall be very happy to dance with you; fopray don't 
 be fo coy.” 
 
 «« Indeed, Sir,” returned I, ‘* you are miftaken ; 
 I never fuppofed you would offer a ticket without 
 withing it {hould be accepted ; but it would anfwer 
 no purpofe to mention the reafons which make me 
 decline it, fince they cannot poflibly be removed.” 
 
 This f{peech feemed very much to mortify him ; 
 which I could not be concerned at, as I did not 
 choofe to be treated by him with fo much freedom. 
 When he was, at laft, convinced that his application 
 to me was ineffeQual, he addreffed himfelf to Ma- 
 dame Duval, and begged fhe would interfere in his 
 favour ; offering, at the fame time, to procure ano- 
 ther ticket for herfelf. 
 
 «« Ma foi, Sir,” anfwered fhe, angrily, ‘“ you 
 might as well have had the complaifance to afk me 
 before ; for, I affure you, I don’t approve of no 
 
 fuch 
 
EVELINA. 217 
 
 fuch rudenefs : however, you may keep your tickets 
 to yourfelf,*for we don’t want none of ’em.” 
 
 ‘This rebuke almoft overfet him ; he made many 
 apologies, and faid that he fhould certainly have 
 firft applied to her, but that he had no notion the 
 young lady would have refufed him, and, on the con- 
 trary, had concluded that fhe would have affifted 
 him to perfuade Madame Duval herfelf. 
 
 This excufe appeafed her; and he pleaded his 
 caufe fo fuccefsfully, that, to my great chagrin, he 
 gained it, and Madame Duval promifed that fhe 
 would go herfelf, and take me to the Hampftead af- 
 fembly whenever he pleafed. 
 
 Mr. Smith then approaching me with an air of 
 triumph, faid, «* Well, Ma’am, now I think you 
 can't poflibly keep to your denial.” 
 
 I made no anfwer; and he foon took leave, tho’ 
 not till he had fo wonderfully gained the favour of 
 Madame Duval, that fhe declared, when he was 
 gone, he was the prettieft young man fhe had {een 
 {ince fhe came to England. 
 
 As foon as I could find an opportunity, I ven- 
 tured, in the moft humble manner, to ‘intreat Ma- 
 dame Duval would not infift upon my attending her 
 to this ball; and reprefented to her, as well as I 
 was able, the impropriety of my accepting any pre- 
 fent from a young man fo entirely unknown to me: 
 but fhe laughed at my fcruples ; called me a foolith, 
 ignorant country-girl; and faid fhe thould make it 
 her bufinefs to teach me fomething of the world. 
 
 This ball is to be next week. I am fure it is not 
 more improper for, than unpleafant to me, and I 
 will ufe every pofible endeavour to avoid it. Per- 
 haps I may apply to Mifs Branghton for advice, as 
 I believe fhe will be willing to affift me, from dif= 
 liking, equally with myfelf, that I fhould dance 
 with Mr. Smith. 
 
 VOL. I. De O, my 
 
218 EVELINA. 
 july 1ith. 
 
 O, my dear Sir! I have been fhocked to death; 
 and yet at the fame time delighted beyond expreflion, 
 in the hope that I have happily been the inftrument 
 of faving a human creature from deftruction! 
 
 This morning Madame Duval faid fhe would in- 
 vite the Branghton family to return our vifit to-mor- 
 row; and not choofing to rife herfelf,—for fhe 
 generally {pends the morning in bed,—tfhe defired me 
 to wait upon them with her meflage. M. Du Bois, 
 who juft then called, infifted upon attending me. 
 
 Mr. Branghton was in the fhop, and told us that 
 his fon and daughters were out ; but defired me to 
 ftep up ftairs, as he very foon expected them home. 
 This I did, leaving M. Du Bois below. I went 
 into the room where we had dined the day before ; 
 and, by a wonderful chance, I happened fo to feat my- 
 felf, that I had a view of the ftairs, and yet could 
 not be feen from them. : 
 
 In about ten minutes time, I faw, pafling by the 
 door, with a look perturbed and affrighted, the 
 fame young man I mentioned in my laft letter. Not 
 heeding, as I fuppofe, how he went, in turning the 
 corner of the ftairs, which are narrow and winding, 
 his foot flipped, and he fell; but almoft inftantly 
 riling, I plainly perceived the end of a piftol, which 
 {tarted from his pocket by hitting againft the ftairs. 
 
 I was inexpreflibly fhocked, All that I had heard 
 of his mifery occurring to my memory, made me 
 conclude that he was, atthat very moment,meditating 
 fuicide! Struck with the dreadful idea, all my 
 ftrength feemed to fail me. He moved on flowly, 
 yet I feon loft fight him ; I fat motionlefs with ter- 
 ror; all power of ation forfook me; and I grew 
 almoft ftif with horror ; till recolleéting that it was 
 yet poflible to prevent the fatal deed, al! my faculties 
 feemed to return, with the hope of faving him. 
 
 My firft thought was to fly to Mr, Branghton ; 
 but I feared, that an in{lant of time lott might for 
 
 ever 
 
EVELINA. 219 
 
 ever be rued ; and, therefore, guided by the impulfe 
 of my ap hen fions, as well as I was able I fol- 
 lowed hitip Sige ftepping very foftly, and obliged 
 to fupport myfelf by the banifters. 
 
 When I came within a few { fteps of the landing- 
 place I ftopped ; for I could then fee into his room 
 as he had not yet fhut the door. 
 
 He had put ‘the piftol upon a t: able, and had his 
 hand in his por ket, whence, in a few moments, he 
 took out another: He then emptied fomething on 
 the table from a fmall leather bag; after which, 
 taking up both the pitt Is, one in each hand, he 
 dropt haftily y upon his knees, and called out, * O, 
 God |__forgive me!” 
 
 In a moment ftrength and courage feemed lent 
 me as by infpiration: | ftart +: and rufhine precipi- 
 
 ately into the room, juft caught his arm, and then, 
 overcome by my own fears, F fell down at his fide 
 breathlefs and fenfelefs. My recovery, however, 
 was, I bislletes almoft inftantaneous ; and then tke 
 fight of this unha appy man, regarding me with a look 
 of unutterable aftontiirie snt, mixed with concern, 
 prefently reftored to me my recolleGion. I arofe; 
 though with diffi iculty ; he did the fame ; the piftols, 
 as I foon faw, were both on the floor. 
 
 Unwilling to leave them, and, indeed, too weak 
 to move, IT leant one hand on the table, and then 
 {tood perfectly f{till; while he, his eyes calt wildly 
 towards me, ieee: too infinitely amazed to be capa- 
 ble of either fpeech or ation. 
 
 I bélieve we were fome minutes in this extrd- 
 ordinary fituation ; but, as my ftrength returned, I 
 felt myfelf both aihanied and aukw ard, and sored 
 towards the door, Pale and motionlefs, he fuffered 
 me to pafs without changing his pofture, or uttering 
 a fyllable ; and, indeed, 
 
 He looked a bloodlefs image of defpair! * 
 * Pope’s Iliad. 
 L2 When 
 
EVELINA. 
 
 sn I reached the door, I turned round; I 
 1 fearfully at the pifto Is, and, impelled by an 
 ild not reprefs, 1 I hattily ftepped back, 
 with an intention of carrying them away: but 
 their wretched owner, perceiving my defign, and, 
 recovering from his aftonifhment, darting fuddenly 
 down, feized them both himfelf. 
 
 Wild with fright, and {carce knowing what I did, 
 Lc it, almoit involuntarily, hold of both his arms, 
 med, ‘* O, Sir! have mercy on yourfelf!” 
 guilty piftols fell from his hz inds, which, dif- 
 f ing { rom me, he fervently clafped, and cried, 
 
 ss Sweet Feay en! is this thy y angel ? 
 
 Encouraged by fuch gentlenefs, I again attempted 
 to take the pil ols ; but, with a look half frantic, he 
 avain prevented me, faying, ‘ What would yee dor” 
 
 «© Awaken you,” I cried, with a courage I now 
 ‘to worthier thoughts, and rete ue you 
 
 eng 
 
 wonder 
 fiom perd 
 I then feized the piftols ;- he faid not a word,—he 
 made no effort to ftop me;—I glided quick by him, 
 nd tottered down ftairs ere he had recovered from 
 remeft amazement. 
 moment I] reached again the room I had fo 
 rew away the piftols, and flinging 
 {t chair, gave free vent to the fecling S 
 painft ully ftifled ina violent burft of tears 
 indeed, prov jed a happy relief to me. 
 uation } remained fome time ; but when, 
 at length, I lifted up my head, the firft object I faw 
 
 was the poor man who had occafioned my terror, 
 ftanding, as if petrified, at the door, and gazing at 
 me with eyes of wild yonder. 
 
 I tye vied from the chair; but trembled fo excef- 
 id , that I almoft inftantly funk again into it. He 
 though without advancing, and, in a faultering 
 », faid, ** Whoever, or whatever you are, relieve 
 mé, I pray you, from the fufpenfe under which my 
 and tell me if indeed I do not dream!” 
 
 To 
 
EVELINA. 221 
 
 To this addrefs, fo fingular, and fo folemn, I had 
 not then the prefence of mind to frame any anfwer ; 
 but as I'prefently perceived that his eyes turned from 
 me to the piftols, and that he feemed to intend regain- 
 ing them, I exerted all my ftrength, and faying, 
 ‘© QO, for Heaven’s fake forbear!” I rofe and took 
 them myfelf. 
 
 Do my fenfes deceive me!” cried he, «do J 
 live—? and do you 2” 
 
 As he {poke he advanced towards me! and I, fill 
 guarding the piftols, retreated, faying, ** No, no-—— 
 you muft not—muft not have them!” 
 
 «© Why—for what purpofe, tell me! —do you with- 
 hold them ?”— 
 
 «« ‘To give you time to hink ;—to fave you from 
 eternal mifery ;—and, I hope, to referve you for 
 mercy and forgivenefs.” 
 
 «© Wonderful!” cried .he, with uplifted hands 
 and eyes, ‘* moft wonderful!” 
 
 For fome time he feemed wrapped in deep 
 thought, till, a fudden noife of tongues below an- 
 nouncing the approach of the Branghtons, made 
 him ftart from his reverie: he fprung haftily for- 
 ward,—dropt on one knee,- -caught hold of my 
 gown, which he prefled to his lips; and then, quick 
 as lightning, he rofe, and flew up ftairs to his own 
 room. 
 
 There was fomething in the whole of this extra- 
 ordinary and fhocking adventure, really too affecting 
 to be borne ; and fo entirely had I {pent my fpirits, 
 and exhaufted my courage, that before the Brangh- 
 tons reached me, J had funk on the ground without 
 fenfe or motion. ‘ 
 
 I believe I muft have been a yery horrid fight to 
 them on their entrance into the room; for, to 
 all appearance, I feemed to have fuffered a violent 
 death, either by my own rafhnefs, or the cruelty 
 of fome murderer, as the piftols had fallen clofe by 
 my fide. 
 
 How 
 
222 EVELINA. 
 
 How foon I recovered I know not; but, probably, 
 I was more indebted to the loudnefs of their cries 
 than to their affiftance; for they all concluded that 
 I was dead, and, for fome time, did not make any 
 effort to revive me. 
 
 Scarcely could I recolle& where, or indeed what, 
 I was, ere they poured upon me fuch a torrent of 
 gueftions and inquiries, that I was almoft ftunned 
 with their vociferation. However, as foon, and as 
 well as I was able, I endeavoured to fatisfy their 
 curiofity, by recounting what had happened as clearly 
 as was in my power. They all looked aghaft at the 
 recital; but, not being well enough to enter into any 
 difcuflions, I begged to have a chair called, and to 
 return inftantly home. 
 
 Before I left them, I recommended, with great 
 earneftnefs, a vigilant obfervance of their unhappy 
 lodger; and that they would take care to keep from 
 him, if poflible, all means of felf-deftru€tion. 
 
 M. Du Bois, who feemed extremely concerned at 
 my indifpofition, walked by the fide of the chair, and 
 faw me fafe to my own apartment. 
 
 The rafhnefs and the mifery of this ill-fated 
 young man engrofs all my thoughts. If, indeed, 
 he is bent upon deftroying himfelf, all efforts to 
 fave him willbe fruitlefs. How much do I wifh 
 it were in my power to difcover the nature of the 
 malady which thus maddens him, and to offer or 
 to procure alleviation to his fufferings! I am fure, 
 my-deareft Sir, you will be much concerned for this 
 poor man; and, were you here, I doubt not but 
 you would find fome method of awakening him 
 from the error which blinds him, and of pouring 
 the balm of peace and comfort into his afilited 
 foul! 
 
EVELINA, 
 
 iB TR Eye 
 
 ; EveLina in Continuation 
 
 } Holborn, June 19th, 
 
 Yesrerpay all the Branghtons dined here. 
 Our converfation was almoft wholly concerning 
 the adventure of the day before. Mr. Branghton | 
 faid, that his firft thought was inftantly to turn his 
 lodger out of doors, “ Left,” continued me, ‘* his 
 killing himfelf in my houfe fhould bring me into 
 any trouble: but then I was afraid I fhould_never 
 get the money he owes me; whereas, if he dies in 
 my houfe, I have a right to all he leaves behind him, 
 if he goes off in my debt. Indeed, I would put 
 . him in prifon,—but what fhould I get by that? he 
 could not earn any thing there to payme: fo I con- 
 fidered about it fome time, and then I determined 
 to afk him point-blank for my money out of hand. 
 And fo I did; but he told me he’d pay me next 
 week: however, I gave him to underftand, that 
 though I was no Scotchman, yet, I did not like to i} 
 be over-reached any more than he: fo then he gave 
 me a ring, which, to my certain knowledge, mut{t 
 be worth ten guineas; and told me he would not 
 part with it for his life, and a good deal more fuch 
 fort of ftuff, but that I might keep it till he could i\ 
 pay me.” 
 ‘© Tt is ten to one, father,” faid young Brangh- 
 ton, ‘‘if he came fairly by it.” 
 «« Very likely not,” anfwered he; ‘‘ but that will 
 make no great difference, for I fhall be able to prove { 
 my right to it all one.” i 
 What principles! I could hardly ftay in the room, } 
 4 «* ]’m determined” faid the fon, ‘* I'll take fome 
 opportunity to affront him foon, now I know how 
 poor he is, becaufe of the airs he gave himfelf to me 
 when he firft came.” 
 : : «* And 
 
224 EVELINA 
 «« And pray, how was that child * faid Madame 
 Duval. 
 
 “« Why, you never knew fuch a fufs in your life 
 as he made, becaufe one day at dinner I only hap- 
 pened to fay that I fuppofed he had never got fuch a 
 good meal in his life before he came to England : 
 there he fell in fuch a paffion as you can’t think : 
 but, for my part, I took no notice of it; for to be 
 fure, thinks I, he muft needs be a gentleman, or 
 he’d never go to be fo angry about it. Howe very 
 he won't put t his tricks upon me aoa in a hurry. 
 
 “Well,” faid Mifs Polly, “he’s grown quite 
 another creature to what he was, and he doesn’t run 
 away from us, nor hide himfelf, pe any thing; and 
 he’s as civil as can be, and he’s always in the fhop, 
 and he faunters about the {tairs, and he looks at 
 every body as comes in. 
 
 «¢Why, you may fee what he’s after plain enough,” 
 faid Mr. Branghton ; “* he wants to fee Mifs again.” 
 
 *«Ha, ha, ha! Lord, how I fhould laugh,” faid 
 the fon, ‘if he fhould have fell in love with Mifs!” 
 
 “(Tm fure,” faid Mifs Branghton, ‘* Mifs is wel- 
 come; but, for my part, I fhould be quite afhamed 
 of fuch a beggarly conqueft.” 
 
 Such was the converfation till tea-time, when the 
 appearance of Mr, Smith gave a new turn to the dif- 
 courfe. 
 
 Mifs Branghton defired me to remark with wha 
 
 a fmart air he entered the room, and afked me if he 
 ea not very much a quality look ? 
 
 «© Come,” cried he, advancing to us, ‘¢ you ladies 
 mult not fit together ; wherever I go, I always make 
 it a rule to part the kadies.” 
 
 And then, handing Mifs Branghton to the next 
 chair, he feated himfelf between us. 
 
 «co Well, now, ladies, I think we fit very well. 
 What fay yout for my part, I think it was a very 
 good motion.” 
 
 se Uf 
 
 : 
 4 
 | 
 ¢ 
 
' 
 ts 
 t 
 | 
 | 
 
 — = 
 
 EVELINA. 
 
 Yr 
 
 ‘* If my coufin likes it,” faid Mifs Branghton, 
 ‘© Tm fure I’ve no objection.” 
 
 *s O,” cried he, : I always ftudy what the ladies 
 like,—that’s my firft thought, And, i stb sd, it is but 
 natural that you fhould like beft to fit by the gentle- 
 men, for what can you find to fay to one another ?” 
 
 “¢ Say!” cried young Branghton ; “ Oo: never 
 you think of that, they'll find enough to fay, I'll be 
 {worn. You know the women are never tired of 
 talking.” 
 
 “e Come, pay Tom,” ne Mr. Smith, «* don’t 
 be fe -vere up on the ladies; when I’m by, you aie 
 I always take their part, - 
 
 Sicia after, when Mifs. B panenien offered me fome 
 cake, this man of gall antry fa « Well, if I was 
 lady, I’d never take any ti from a Woman.” 
 
 that 
 
 «* Why not, Sir?” 
 
 “© Becaufe I the uld | be afraid of being poifoned for 
 being fo handfome. 
 
 «© Who is fevere upon the ladies now,” faid I. 
 
 ‘* Why, really, Ma'am, it was a flip of the 
 tongue ; 5 I did not intend to fay fuch a thing; but 
 one can’t always be on one’s g guard.” 
 
 Soon after, the converfation turning upon public 
 places, youngBranghton afked, if I hz ad ever been to 
 George’s at Hampftead? 
 
 “‘ Indeed, Inever heard the place mentioned.” 
 
 “ Didn’ tyou, Mifs,” cried he eagerly; ‘* why, 
 then you’ve a deal of fun to come, I'll promife you 5 
 and, T tell you what, I'll treat you there fome Sun- 
 day foon, ‘So now, Bid and Poll, be fure you don’t 
 teil Mifs about the chairs, and all that, for I’vea 
 mind to furprife her ; and if I pay, I think I've a 
 right to have it my own way.” 
 
 “© George’s at Ham; pitead |” 
 
 epeated Mr. Smith 
 
 contem ptuoutly ; &s how came you to think the 
 young Lady would like to go to fuch a low place as 
 thet! But, pray, Ma’am, have you ever been to 
 Don Saltero’s at Chelfea 2” 
 
 ‘i No, 
 
225 EVELEN A, 
 
 « No, Sir. 
 
 « No!—nay, then ] muft infift on having the 
 pleafure of conducting you there before long. I 
 affure you, Ma’am, many genteel people go, or elfe, 
 I give you my word, / fhould not recommend it.” 
 
 « Pray, coufin,” faid Mr. Branghton, ‘* have you 
 been at.Sadler’s Wells yet?” 
 
 «© No, Sir.” 
 
 «« No! why, then you’ve feen nothing!” 
 
 «© Pray, Miis,”’ faid the fon, ** how do you like 
 the Tower of London?” 
 
 «© J have never been to it, Sir.” 
 
 «« Goodnefs!” exclaimed. he, “not feen the 
 Tower!—why, may be, you ha’n’t been o top of 
 the Monument, neither!” 
 
 <« No, indeed, I have not.” 
 
 «Why, then, you might as well not have come 
 to London for-aught I fee, for you’ve been nowhere.” 
 
 « Pray, Mifs,” faid Polly, ‘« have you been all 
 ever Paul’s Church yet ©” 
 
 ‘© No, Ma’am.” 
 
 «¢ Welt, but, Ma’am,” faid Mr. Smith, * how do 
 you like Vauxhall and Marybone?” 
 
 «<I never faw either, Sir.” 
 
 «© No—God blefs me!—you really furprife me, 
 —why Vauxhall is the firft pleafure in life |—I know 
 nothing like it.—Well, Ma’am, you muft have 
 been with ftrange people, indeed, not to have taken 
 you to Vauxhall. Why, you have feen nothing of 
 London yet. However, we muft try if we can't 
 make you amends.” 
 
 In the courfe of this catechifm, many other places 
 were mentioned, of which J have-forgotten the names; 
 but the looks of furprife and contempt that my re- 
 peated negatives incurred were very diverting. 
 
 ««Gome,” faid Mr. Smith after tea, ‘tas this 
 Lady has been with fuch a queer fet of people, let’s 
 fhow her the difference ; fuppofe we go fomewhere 
 to-night !—I love to do things with {pirit !—Come, 
 ladies, 
 
 s 
 
 { 
 
 andere 
 
EVELAWN As 227 
 
 jJadies, where fhall we go? For my part I fhould 
 like Foote’s,—but the ladies muft choofe; I never 
 {peak myfelf.” 
 
 i «© Well, Mr. Smith is always in fuch fpirits!” 
 faid Mifs Branghton 
 
 ; «« Why, yes, Ma’at n, yes, thank God, pretty g good 
 
 f Spirits; ——4I have not yet the cares of the world, 
 
 upon me;—I am not married,—ha, ha, ha!—you'll 
 excufe me, ladies,—but I can’t help laughing!” 
 No objection being made, to my great relief we 
 all proceeded to the little theatre in the Hay-market, 
 where I was exiremely entertained by the perform- 
 ance of the Minor and the Commitlary. 
 They all returned hither to fupper. 
 
 LEE TER XLY, 
 
 EveLina iz Continuation. 
 
 June 15> 
 YESTERDAY mor ning Madame Duval again 
 fent me to Mr. Branghton’s, attended by M. "Da 
 Bois, to make fome party for the evening, becaufe 
 fhe had had the vapours the preceding day from ftay- 
 ing at home. 
 
 As I entered the fhop, I perceived the unfortu- 
 nate North Briton feated in a corner with a book in 
 hishand. He cait his melancholy eyes up as we 
 came in; and, I be Hehe, immediately recolleéted 
 my face—for he ftar ted, and changed c ‘olour. I de- 
 livered Madame Duvai’s meilage to Mr. Branghton ; j 
 who told me I thould find Polly up itairs, but that 
 the others were gone out. 
 
 Up ftairs, therefore, I went; and feated on a 
 window, with Mr. Brown at her fide, fat Mifs Polly, 
 J felt a little awkward at difturbing them, and much 
 more fo at thcir behaviour afterw ads ; for, as foon 
 asthe common inguiries were over, Mr. Brown 
 grew 
 
 é 
 
223 EVELINA. 
 
 grew fo fond and fo foolifh, that I was extremely 
 difgufted.. Polly, all the time, only rebuked him 
 with, «La, now, Mr. Brown, do be quiet, can’t 
 you ?—you fhould not behave fo before company.— 
 Why, now, .what will Mifs think of me?” 
 While her looks plainly fhewed not merély the plea- 
 fure, but the pride which fhe took in: his carefles. 
 
 I did not by any means think it nec y to pu- 
 nifh myfelf by witnefling their tendernéfs; and 
 therefore telling them I would fee if Mifs Brangh- 
 ton were returned home, I foon left them, and again 
 defcended into the fhop. 
 
 «So, Mifs, you’ve come again,” faid Mr. Brangh- 
 ton; what, I fuppofe you've a mind to {it a little in 
 the fhop, and fee how the world goes, hey, Mifs:”’ 
 
 I made no anfwer; and M. Du Bois inftantly 
 
 brought me a chair. 
 ‘The unhappy ftranger, who had rifen at my en- 
 trance, again feated himfelt ; and, though his head 
 leant towards his book, I could not help obferving, 
 that his eyes were moft intently and earneftly turned 
 towards me. 
 
 M. Du Bois, as well as his broken Englith would 
 allow him, endeavoured to entertain us till the re- 
 turn of Mifs Branghton and her brother. 
 
 ‘«« Lord, how tired I am!” cried the former; “T 
 have not a foot to ftand upon.” And then, with- 
 out any ceremony, fhe flung herfelf into the chair 
 from which I had rifen to receive her. ~ 
 
 *€ You tired!” faid the brother; “ why, then, 
 what muft I be, that have walked twice as far?” 
 And, with equal politenefs, he paid the fame compli- 
 ment to M. Du Bois which his fifter had done to me. 
 
 Two chairs and three ftools completed the fur- 
 niture of the thop.; and Mr. Branghton, who chofe 
 to keep his own feat himfelf, defired M. Dir Bois 
 to take another ; and then, feeing that I was with- 
 out any, called out’to the ftranger, ‘* Come, Mr. 
 Macartney, lend us your flooh”’ 
 
 Shocked 
 
 % 
 
rae 
 
 EVELINA, 229 
 
 Shocked at their rudenefs, I declined the offer ; 
 and, approaching Mifs Branghton, faid, «* If you 
 will be fo good as to make room for me on your 
 chair, there will be no occafion to difturb that 
 gentleman,”’ 
 
 ‘* Lord, what fionifies that ?? cried the brother ; 
 ** he has had his (hare of fitting, I'll be fworn.” 
 
 “** And, if he has not,” faid the fifter, ** he has a 
 chair up itairs; and the fhop is our own, I hope.” 
 
 This groffnefs fo much difgufted me, that I took 
 the ftool, and, carrying it back to Mr. Macartney 
 myfelf, 1 returned him thanks as civilly as I could 
 for his politenefs, but faid that I had rather ftand, 
 
 He looked at me as if unaccuftomed. to fuch atten-= 
 tion, bowed very refpectfully, but neither {poke nor 
 yet made ufe of it, 
 
 { foon found that I was-an obje& of desifion to 
 
 except M. Du Bois.; and, therefore, I 
 d Mr. Branghton would give me an anfwer for 
 ae Duval, as I was in hafle to return, 
 
 “ Well, then, Tom,—Biddy,—where have you 
 a mind to go to-night? your Aunt and Mifs want 
 to be abroad and amongit them.” 
 
 ‘© Why. then, Papa,” faid Mifs Branghton, 
 *“« well go to Don Saltero’s.. Mr. Smith likes that 
 place, fo may be he'll go along with us.” 
 
 ‘* No, no,” faid the fon, * I’m for White-Con- 
 duit Houfe; fo let’s go there.” 
 
 “€ White-Conduit Houfe, indeed!” cried his fif- 
 ter; no, Tom, that I won’t.” 
 
 «¢ Why, then, let it alone ; nobody wants your 
 company ;—we fhall do as well without you, I'll 
 be fworn, and better too,” 
 
 « Tl tell you what, Tom, it you don’t hold your 
 tongue, [ll make you repent it,—that I aflure you,” 
 
 Juft then Mr. Smith came into the fhop, which 
 he {eemed to intend p fling through; but when he 
 fawane, he {topped, and began a moft courteous 
 inguiry after my health, protetting that, had he 
 
 VOL. I. M known 
 
230 EVELINA. 
 
 known I was there, he fhould have come down 
 fooner. ‘“ But, blefs me, Ma’am,” added he, 
 «« what is the reafon you ftand ?” and then he flew 
 to bring me the feat from which I had juft parted. 
 
 ««Mr. Smith, you are come in very good time,” 
 faid Mr. Branghton, ‘* to end a difpute between 
 my fon and daughter, about where they fhall all go 
 to-night.” 
 
 « O fie, Tom,—difpute with a lady !” cried 
 Mr. Smith. « Now, as for me, I’m for where you 
 will, provided this young Lady is of the party ;— 
 one place is the fame as another to me, fo that it 
 be but agreeable to the Jadies.—I would go any 
 where with you, Ma’am,” (to me) ** unlefs, indeed, 
 it were to church ;—ha, ha, ha 1—You'll excufe me, 
 Ma’am; but, really, I never could conquer my fear 
 of a parfon;—ha, ha, ha!—Really, ladies, I beg 
 your pardon for being fo rude; but I can’t help 
 laughing for my life!” 
 
 «© J was juft faying, Mr. Smith,” faid Mifs 
 Branghton, ‘' that I fhould like to go to Don Sal- 
 téro’s ;—now pray where fhould you like to go a 
 
 « Why really, Mifs Biddy, you know I always 
 Ict the ladies decide ; I never fix any thing myfelf; 
 but I fhould fuppofe it would be rather hot at 
 the coffee-houfe :—however, pray Ladies fettle it 
 among yourlelves ;—T’m agreeable to whatever you 
 choofe.” 
 
 It was eafy for me to difcover, that this man, 
 with all his parade of conformity, objets to every 
 thing that is not propofed by himfelf: but he is 
 fo much admired by this family for his gentility, that 
 he thinks himfelf a complete fine gentleman ! 
 
 « Come,” faid Mr. Branghton, ‘* the beft way 
 will be to put it to the vote, and then every body 
 will fpeak their minds. Biddy, call Polt down 
 fiairs. We'll ftart fair.” 
 
 « Lord, Papa,” faid Mifs Branghton, ‘“ why 
 can’t you as well fend Tom ’—you are always fend- 
 me of the errands.” 
 
 A dif- 
 
—— 
 
 EVELINA. 231 
 
 A difpute then enfued, but Mifs Branghton was 
 obliged to yield. 
 
 When Mr. Brown and Mifs Polly made their ap- 
 pearance, the latter uttered many complaints of 
 having been called, faying, fhe did not want to 
 come, and was very well where fhe was. 
 
 «© Now, Ladies, your votes,” cried Mr. Smith ; 
 ‘* and fo, Ma’am (to me), we'll begin with you. 
 What place fhall you like beft?” and then, in a 
 whifper, he added, ‘* I affure you, I fhall fay the 
 fame as you do, whether I like it or not.” 
 
 I faid, that as I was ignorant what choice was in 
 my power, I mutt beg to hear their decifions firft, 
 This was reluctantly affented to; and then Mifs 
 Branghton voted for Saltero’s Coffee-houfe ; her 
 fifter, fora party to Adother Red Cap’s ; the brother, 
 for White-Conduit Houfe; Mr. Brown, for Bag- 
 nigge Wells ; Mr. Branghton, for Sadler’s Wells ; 
 and Mr. Smith, for Vauxhall. 
 
 « Well now, Ma’am,” faid Mr. Smith, ‘* we 
 have all fpoken, and fo you mult give the cafling 
 vote. Come, what will you fix upon?” 
 
 «« Sir,” anfwered I, «* I was to {peak Ja/?.” 
 
 «« Well, fo you will,” faid Mifs Branghton, ¢ for 
 we've all fpoken firit.” 
 
 «© Pardon me,” returned I, ‘* the voting has not 
 yet been quite general.” 
 
 And I looked towards Mr. Macartney, to whom 
 I withed extremely to fhow that I was not of the 
 fame brutal nature. with thofe by whom he was 
 treated fo grofsly. 
 
 «« Why pray,’ faid Mr. Branghton, ‘* who have 
 we left out? would you have the cats and dogs 
 voter 
 
 «No, Sir,” cried I with fome fpirit, «« I would 
 have that gentleman vote,—if, indeed, he is not fu- 
 perior to joining our party.” 
 
 They all looked at me, as if they doubted whe- 
 ther or not they had heard me right; but, in a few 
 moments, 
 
237 EVELINA, 
 
 moments, there furprife gave way to a rude burft of 
 laught ter. i 
 
 Very much difpleafed, I told M. Du Bois that 
 if he was not ready to go, | would have a coach 
 called for myfelf. 
 
 O yes, he faid, he was always ready to attend 
 me. 
 
 Mr. Smith then advancing, attempted to .take 
 my hand, and begged me not to leave them till I 
 had fettled the evening’s s plan. 
 
 ‘«« T have nothing, Sir,” faid I, ** to do with it, 
 as it is my intention to {tay at home ; and therefore 
 Mr, Branghton will be fo good as to fend Madame 
 Duval word what place is fixed upon, when it is 
 convenient to him.” 
 
 And then, making a flight courtefy, I. left 
 them. 
 
 How much does my difguft for thefe people in- 
 creafe my pity for poor Mr. Macartney! I will not 
 fee them when I can avoid fo doin g; but I am 
 determined to take every opportunity in my power 
 to fhow civil ity to this unhappy man, whofe mif- 
 fortunes, with this family, only render him an ob- 
 ject of of fcorn. ae however, very well pleafed 
 with M. Du Boi rho, far from joining in their 
 peers exprefied imfelt extremely fhocked at their 
 ill-breeding. 
 
 We had not walked ten yards before we were 
 followed by Mr. Smith, who came to make ex- 
 cufes, and to affure me they were a joking, and 
 hoped I took nothing ill; for if I did, he would 
 make a quarrel of it himfelf with the Branghtons, 
 
 rather than I fhould receive any offence. 
 
 I begged him not to take any trouble about fo 
 smmaterial an affair, and affured him I fhould not 
 
 1£ 
 
 my‘clf. He was fo officious, that he would not 
 be preva ailed upon to return home, till he had walk- 
 ed with us to Mr. Dawkins’s. 
 Madame Duval was very much difpleafed that £ 
 brought 
 6 
 
EVELINA. 23% 
 brought her fo little fatisfa@ion. _White-Conduit 
 
 Houfe was at laft fixed upon ; and notwithftanding 
 my great diflike of fuch parties and fuch places, I 
 was obliged to accompany them. 
 
 Very difagreeable, and much according to my 
 expectations, the evening proved. There were 
 many people all fmart and gaudy, and fo pert and 
 low-bred, that I could hardly endure being amongft 
 them ; but the party to which, unfortunately, E 
 belonged, feemed all at home. 
 
 END OF THE FIRST VOLUME, 
 
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