Miss Planta came to my room upstairs, to Inquire how long Mr. Fairly had stayed, and I was quite happy to appease her astonishment that he should come without sending in to the king, by assuring her he was only nursing for the next day, when he meant to attend the Coombe party.
I thought it so absolutely right to mention his visit to the queen, lest, hearing of it from the princesses through Miss Planta, she Should wonder yet more, that I put aside the disagreeable feel of exciting that wonder myself, and told her he had drank tea here, when I attended her at night. She seemed much more surprised than pleased, till I added that he was preparing and hardening himself for the Coombe expedition the next day, and then she was quite satisfied.(285)
THE GOUT AND THE LOVE LETTERS, AGAIN.
Saturday, July 26.-The royal party were to be Out the whole day, and I had her majesty’s permission to go to the play at night with Miss Port and her friends, and to introduce MISS Planta to them for the same purpose. The breakfast was at seven o’clock; we were all up at half after five. How sorry was I to see Colonel Gwynn enter alone, and to hear that Mr. Fairly was again ill
Soon after the king came into the room and said, “So, no Mr.
Fairly again?”
“No, sir; he’s very bad this morning.”
“What’s the matter? His face?”
“No, sir; he has got the gout. These waters., he thinks, have brought it on.”
“What, in his foot?”
“Yes, sir; he is quite lame, his foot is swelled prodigiously. “So he’s quite knocked up! Can’t he come out?”
“No, sir; he’s obliged to order a gouty shoe and stay at home and nurse.”
The king declared the Cheltenham waters were admirable friends to the constitution, by bringing disorders out of the habit. Mr. Fairly, he said, had not been well some time, and a smart fit of the gout might set him all to rights again. Alas, thought I, a smart fit of the gout in a lonely lodging at a water-drinking place!
They all presently set off; and so fatigued was my poor little frame, I was glad to go and lie down; but I never can sleep when I try for it in the daytime; the moment I cease all employment, my thoughts take such an ascendance over my morphetic faculty, that the attempt always ends in a deep and most Wakeful meditation.
About twelve o’clock I was reading In my private loan book, when, hearing the step of Miss Planta on the stairs, I put it back in my work-box, and Was just taking thence some other employment, when her voice struck my ear almost in a scream “Is it possible? Mr. Fairly!”
My own with difficulty refrained echoing it when I heard his voice answer her, and in a few minutes they parted, and he rapped at the door and entered my little parlour. He came in hobbling, leaning on a stick, and with a large cloth shoe over one of his feet, which was double the size of the other.
We sat down together, and he soon inquired what I had done with his little book. I had only, I answered, read two more letters.
“Have you read two?” he cried, in a voice rather disappointed; and I found he was actually come to devote the morning, which he knew to be unappropriated on my part, to reading it on to me himself. Then he took up the book and read on from the fifth letter. But he read at first with evident uneasiness, throwing down the book at every noise, and stopping to listen at every sound. At last he asked me if anybody was likely to come?
Not a soul, I said, that I knew or expected.
He laughed a little at his question and apparent anxiety but with an openness that singularly marks his character, he frankly added, I must put the book away, pure as it is, if any one comes or, without knowing a word of the contents, they will run away with the title alone, exclaiming, ‘Mr. Fairly reading love letters to Miss Burney!’ A fine story that would make!”
‘Pon honour, thought I, I would not hear such a tale for the world. However, he now pursued his reading more at his ease.
I will not tell you what we said of them in talking them over. Our praise I have chiefly given — our criticism must wait till you have read them yourselves. They are well worth your seeking. I am greatly mistaken if you do not read them with delight. in the course of the discussion he glided, I know not how, upon the writings of another person, saying he never yet had talked them over with me.
“It is much kinder not,” cried I hastily. . . .
“Well, but,” cried he laughing, “may I find a fault? Will you hear a criticism, if nothing of another sort?” I was forced to accede to this.
He told me, then, there was one thing he wholly disallowed and wished to dispute, which was, Cecilia’s refusing to be married on account of the anonymous prohibition to the ceremony. He could not, he said, think such an implied distrust of Delvile, after consenting to be his, was fair or generous.
“To that,” cried I, “I cannot judge what a man may think, but I will own it is what most precisely and indubitably I could not have resisted doing myself. An interruption so mysterious and so shocking I could never have had the courage to pass over.”
This answer rather silenced him from politeness than convinced him from reason, for I found he thought the woman who had given her promise was already married, and ought to run every risk rather than show the smallest want of confidence in the man of her choice.
Columb now soon came in to inquire what time I should dine, but a ghost could not have made him stare more than Mr. Fairly, whose confinement with the gout had been spread all over the house by Colonel Gwynn.
I ordered an early dinner on account of the play.”
“Will you invite me,” cried Mr. Fairly, laughing, “to dine with you?”
“Oh yes!” I cried, “with the greatest pleasure.” and he said he would go to his home and dress, and return to my hour A DINNER WITH COLONEL FAIRLY AND MISS PLANTA, As he was at leisure, I had bespoke the queen’s hairdresser, on account of the play; but Miss Planta came to inform me that she could not be of that party, as she had received a letter from Lady Charlotte Finch, concerning Princess Mary, that she must stay to deliver herself.
I told her she would have a beau at dinner. “Well,” she exclaimed, “’tis the oddest thing in the world He should come so when the king and queen are away! I am sure, if I was you, I would not mention it.”
“Oh yes, I shall,” cried I; “I receive no visitors in private; and I am sure if I did, Mr. Fairly is the last who would condescend to make one of them.” Such was my proud, but true speech, for him and for myself.
At dinner we all three met; Mr. Fairly in much better spirits than I have yet seen him at Cheltenham. He attacks Miss Planta upon all her little prejudices, and rallies her into a defence of them, in a manner so sportive ’tis impossible to hurt her, yet so nearly sarcastic that she is frequently perplexed whether to take it in good or ill part. But his intentions are so decidedly averse to giving pain, that even when she is most alarmed at finding the laugh raised against her, some suddenly good-humoured or obliging turn sets all to rights, and secures any sting from remaining, even where the bee has been most menacing to fix itself.
I believe Mr. Fairly to possess from nature high animal spirits, though now curbed by misfortune - and a fine vein of satire, though constantly kept in order by genuine benevolence. He is still, in mixed company, gay, shrewd, and arch; foremost in badinage, and readiest for whatever may promote general entertainment. But in chosen society his spirits do not rise above cheerfulness; he delights in moral discourse, on grave and instructive subjects, and though always ready to be led to the politics or business of the day, in which he is constantly well versed and informing I never observe him to lead but to themes of religion, literature, or moral life.
When dinner and a very sociable dessert were over, we proposed going to the king’s dining-parlour, while the servants removed the things, etc., against tea. But the weather was so very fine we were tempted by the open door to go out into the air. Miss Planta said she would take a walk; Mr. Fairly could not, but all without was so beautiful he would not go into the parlour, an
d rather risked the fatigue of standing, as he leant against the porch, to losing the lovely prospect of sweet air.
And here, for near two hours, on the steps of Fauconberg Hall, we remained; and they were two hours of such pure serenity, without and within, as I think, except in Norbury park, with its loved inhabitants and my Susan, I scarce ever remember to have spent. Higher gaiety and greater happiness many and many periods of my life have at different times afforded me; but a tranquillity more perfect has only, I think, been lent to me in Norbury park, where, added to all else that could soothe and attract, every affection of my heart could be expanded and indulged. But what have I to do with a comparison no longer cherished but by memory
The time I have mentioned being past, Miss Planta returned from her walk, and we adjourned to the little parlour, where I made tea, and then I equipped myself for the play.
The sweet Miss Port received me with her usual kind joy, and introduced me to her friends, who are Mr. Delabere, the master of the house, and chief magistrate of Cheltenham, and his family.
We all proceeded to the play-house, which is a very pretty little theatre. Mrs. Jordan played the “Country Girl,” most admirably; but the play is so disagreeable in Its whole plot and tendency, that all the merit of her performance was insufficient to ward off disgust.(286) My principal end, however, was wholly answered, in spending the evening with my poor M —— . . . .
Lady Harcourt is come to take the place of Lady Weymouth, whose waiting is over; and Lord Harcourt will lodge in the town of Cheltenham. We have no room here for double accommodations.
ROYAL CONCERN FOR THE COLONEL’s GOUT.
Sunday, July 27.-This morning in my first attendance I seized a moment to tell her majesty of yesterday’s dinner “So I hear!” she cried; and I was sorry any one had anticipated my information, nor can I imagine who it might be.
“But pray, ma’am,” very gravely, how did it happen? I understood
Mr. Fairly was confined by the gout.”
“He grew better, ma’am, and hoped by exercise to prevent a serious fit.”
She said no more, but did not seem pleased. The fatigues of a Court attendance are so little comprehended, that persons known to be able to quit their room and their bed are Instantly concluded to be qualified for all the duties of their office.
We were again very early, as their majesties meant to go to the cathedral at Gloucester, where the Bishop of Gloucester, Dr. Halifax, was to Preach to them. But I -was particularly glad, before our breakfast, was over, to see Mr. Fairly enter my little parlour. He was Still In his gouty Shoe, and assisted by a stick, but he had not suffered from his yesterday’s exertion.
Before the things were removed, a page opened the door, and all the royal family — king, queen, and three princesses — came into the room to see Mr. Fairly and Inquire how he did. I hardly know with which of the five he is most in favour, or by which most respected, and they all expressed their concern for this second attack, in the kindest terms.
The king, however, who has a flow of spirits at this time quite unequalled, would fain have turned the whole into ridicule, and have persuaded him he was only fanciful.
“Fanciful, Sir?” he repeated, a little displeased; and the good king perceiving it, graciously and good-humouredly drew back his words, by saying “Why I should wonder indeed if you were to be that!”
When they all decamped I prepared for church. I had appointed to go with Miss Port, and to meet her on the road. Mr. Fairly said, if I would give him leave, he would stay and write letters in my little parlour. I supplied him with materials, and emptied my queen’s writing-box for a desk, as we possess nothing here but a low dining-table. So away went journals, letters, memorandums, etc., into the red portfolio given me by my dear father. page 187
As soon as I presented him with this, not at all aware of the goods and chattels removed for the occasion, he said it was so very comfortable he should now write all his letters here, for at his lodgings he had such a miserable low table he had been forced to prop it up by brick-bats!
Mr. Fairly sealed and made up his dispatches, and then said he would stroll a little out to put his foot in motion. “And what,” he asked, “shall you do?”
I had a great mind to say, Why, stroll with you; for that, I think, was the meaning OF his question; but I feared it might prevent my being dressed against the return Of the queen, and I do not think she would have thought it an adequate excuse.
YOUNG REPUBLICANS CONVERTED.
Monday, July 28. — Miss Ogle acquainted me that this was the last day of her remaining at Cheltenham, and I promised to drink tea with her in the afternoon; and the queen honoured me with a commission to bring Mrs. Ogle on the walks, as his majesty wished again to see her. . . .
I found Mrs. Ogle and her daughters all civility and good humour. Poor Mrs. Ogle has lately (by what means I do not know) wholly lost her eye-sight; but she is perfectly resigned to this calamity, and from motives just such as suit a bishop’s daughter. When I told her who desired her to be on the walks, she was extremely gratified. Spotty is a complete rebel, according to the principles of her republican father, and protested it would only be a folly and fuss to go, for their notice. The younger sisters are bred rebels too; but the thought of guiding their mother, when such royal distinction was intended her, flattered and fluctuated them. There was another lady with them, who told me that Dr. Warton, of Winchester, had desired her to make acquaintance with me; but I have forgotten her name, and have no time to refresh my memory with it.
To the walks we went, the good and pious Mrs. Ogle between her two young daughters, and Spotty and I together. Spotty begged me to go to the ball with her, but I had neither licence nor inclination.
The queen immediately espied Mrs. Ogle, by seeing me, as I heard her say to the king; and they approached the spot where we stood, in the most gracious manner. The king spoke with such kindness to Mrs. Ogle, and with such great regard of her late father, that the good lady was most deeply affected with pleasure. I believe they stayed half an hour with her, talking over old scenes and circumstances. Spotty kept pulling me all the time, to decamp; but I kept “invincible,” — not quite like Mr. Pitt, yet “invincible.” At last the king spoke to her: this confused her so much, between the pleasure of the notice, and the shame of feeling that pleasure, that she knew not what she either did or said, answered everything wrong, and got out of the line, and stood with her back to the queen, and turned about she knew not why, and behaved like one who had lost her wits.
When they left us, Mrs. Ogle expressed her grateful sense of the honour done her, almost with tears; the two young ones said, they had never conceived the king and queen could be such sweet people and poor Spotty was so affected and so constrained in denying them praise, and persisting that she thought it “all a bore,” that I saw the republican heart was gone, though the tongue held its ground.
A second time, after a few more turns, the same gracious party approached, with fresh recollections and fresh questions concerning interesting family matters. This was more than could be withstood; Mrs. Ogle was almost overpowered by their condescension; the young ones protested they should never bear to hear anything but praise of them all their lives to come and poor Spotty was quite dumb! She could not, for shame, join the chorus of praise, and to resist it she had no longer any power.
We did not, however, stop here; for still a third time they advanced, and another conference ensued, in which Mrs. Ogle’s sons were inquired for, and their way of life, and designs and characters. This ended and completed the whole; Mrs. Ogle no longer restrained the tears of pleasure from flowing; her little daughters declared, aloud, the king and queen were the two most sweet persons in the whole world, and they would say so as long as they lived; and poor Spotty, colouring and conscious, said— “But I hope I did not behave so bad this time as the first?” Nay, so wholly was she conquered, that, losing her stubbornness more and more by reflection, she would not let me take leave till sh
e obliged me to promise I would either call the next morning, before their departure, or write her a little note, to say if they found out or mentioned her ungraciousness.
I was too well pleased in the convert to refuse her this satis- page 189 action; and so full was her mind of her new loyalty, that when she found me steady in declining to go with her to the ball, she gave it up herself, and said she would go home with her mother and sisters, to talk matters over.
THE PRINCES’ ANIMAL SPIRITS.
July 31. — Miss Planta said the Duke of York was expected the next day. This led to much discourse on the princes, in which Mr. Fairly, with his usual but Most uncommon openness, protested there was something in the violence of their animal spirits that Would make him accept no post and no pay to live with them. Their very voices, he said, had a loudness and force that wore him.
Immediately after he made a little attack — a gentle one, Indeed — upon me, for the contrary extreme, of hardly speaking, among strangers at least, so as to be heard. “And why,” cried he, “do you speak so low? I used formerly not to catch above a word in a sentence from you.” In talking about the princes, he asked me how I managed with them.
Not at all, I said, for since I had resided under the royal roof they were rarely there, and I had merely seen them two or three times.
He congratulated me that I had not been in the family in earlier days, when they all lived together; and Miss Planta enumerated various of their riots, and the distresses and difficulties they caused in the household.
I was very glad, I said, to be out of the way, though I did not doubt but I might have kept clear of them had I been even then a resident.
“O no, no,” cried Mr. Fairly; “they would have come to you, I promise you; and what could you have done — what would have become of you? — with Prince William in particular? Do you not think, Miss Planta, the Prince of Wales and Prince William would have been quite enough for Miss Burney? Why she would have been quite subdued.”
Complete Works of Frances Burney Page 586
