Shocked to find how silly, how childish a part I had acted, my former fears of dancing before such a company, and with such a partner, returned more forcibly than ever. I suppose he perceived my uneasiness, for he entreated me to sit down again, if dancing was disagreeable to me. But I was quite satisfied with the folly I had already shewn, and therefore declined his offer, tho’ I was really scarce able to stand.
Under such conscious disadvantages, you may easily imagine, my dear Sir, how ill I acquitted myself. But, though I both expected and deserved to find him very much mortified and displeased at his ill fortune in the choice he had made, yet, to my very great relief, he appeared to be even contented, and very much assisted and encouraged me. These people in high life have too much presence of mind, I believe, to seem disconcerted, or out of humour, however they may feel: for had I been the person of the most consequence in the room, I could not have met with more attention and respect.
When the dance was over, seeing me still very much flurried, he led me to a seat saying that he would not suffer me to fatigue myself from politeness.
And then, if my capacity, or even if my spirits had been better, in how animated a conversation might I have been engaged! It was then I saw that the rank of Lord Orville was his least recommendation, his understanding and his manners being far more distinguished. His remarks upon the company in general were so apt, so just, so lively, I am almost surprised myself that they did not re-animate me; but indeed I was too well convinced of the ridiculous part I had myself played before so nice an observer, to be able to enjoy his pleasantry: so self-compassion gave me feeling for others. Yet I had not the courage to attempt either to defend them, or to rally in my turn, but listened to him in silent embarrassment.
When he found this, he changed the subject, and talked of public places, and public performers; but he soon discovered that I was totally ignorant of them.
He then, very ingeniously, turned the discourse to the amusements and occupations of the country.
It now struck me, that he was resolved to try whether or not I was capable of talking upon any subject. This put so great a constraint upon my thoughts, that I was unable to go further than a monosyllable, and not even so far, when I could possibly avoid it.
We were sitting in this manner, he conversing with all gaiety, I looking down with all foolishness, when that fop who had first asked me to dance, with a most ridiculous solemnity, approached, and after a profound bow or two, said, ‘I humbly beg pardon, Madam, – and of you too, my Lord, – for breaking in upon such agreeable conversation – which must, doubtless, be much more delectable – than what I have the honour to offer – but – ’
I interrupted him – I blush for my folly, – with laughing; yet I could not help it, for, added to the man’s stately foppishness, (and he actually took snuff between every three words), when I looked round at Lord Orville, I saw such extreme surprise in his face, – the cause of which appeared so absurd, that I could not for my life preserve my gravity.
I had not laughed before from the time I had left Miss Mirvan, and I had much better have cried then; Lord Orville actually stared at me; the beau, I know not his name, looked quite enraged. ‘Refrain – Madam,’ said he, with an important air, ‘a few moments refrain! – I have but a sentence to trouble you with, – May I know to what accident I must attribute not having the honour of your hand?’
‘Accident, Sir!’ repeated I, much astonished.
‘Yes, accident, Madam – for surely, – I must take the liberty to observe – pardon me, Madam, – it ought to be no common one – that should tempt a lady – so young a one too, – to be guilty of ill manners.’
A confused idea now for the first time entered my head, of something I had heard of the rules of an assembly, but I was never at one before, – I have only danced at school, – and so giddy and heedless I was, that I had not once considered the impropriety of refusing one partner, and afterwards accepting another. I was thunderstruck at the recollection: but, while these thoughts were rushing into my head. Lord Orville, with some warmth, said, ‘This lady, Sir, is incapable of meriting such an accusation!’
The creature – for I am very angry with him – made a low bow, and, with a grin the most malicious I ever saw, ‘My Lord,’ said he, ‘far be it from me to accuse the lady, for having the discernment to distinguish and prefer – the superior attractions of your Lordship.’
Again he bowed, and walked off.
Was ever any thing so provoking? I was ready to die with shame. ‘What a coxcomb!’ exclaimed Lord Orville; while I, without knowing what I did, rose hastily, and moving off, ‘I can’t imagine,’ cried I, ‘where Mrs Mirvan has hid herself!’
‘Give me leave to see,’ answered he. I bowed and sat down again, not daring to meet his eyes; for what must he think of me, between my blunder, and the supposed preference?
He returned in a moment, and told me that Mrs Mirvan was at cards, but would be glad to see me; and I went immediately. There was but one chair vacant, so, to my great relief, Lord Orville presently left us. I then told Mrs Mirvan my disasters, and she good-naturedly blamed herself for not having better instructed me, but said she had taken it for granted that I must know such common customs. However, the man may, I think, be satisfied with his pretty speech, and carry his resentment no farther.
In a short time, Lord Orville returned. I consented, with the best grace I could, to go down another dance, for I had had time to recollect myself, and therefore resolved to use some exertion, and, if possible, appear less a fool than I had hitherto done; for it occurred to me that, insignificant as I was, compared to a man of his rank and figure, yet, since he had been so unfortunate as to make choice of me for a partner, why I should endeavour to make the best of it.
The dance, however, was short, and he spoke very little; so I had no opportunity of putting my resolution in practice. He was satisfied, I suppose, with his former successless efforts to draw me out: or, rather, I fancied, he had been enquiring who I was. This again disconcerted me, and the spirits I had determined to exert, again failed me. Tired, ashamed, and mortified, I begged to sit down till we returned home, which I did soon after. Lord Orville did me the honour to hand me to the coach, talking all the way of the honour I had done him! O these fashionable people!
Well, my dear Sir, was it not a strange evening? I could not help being thus particular, because, to me, every thing is so new. But it is now time to conclude. I am, with all love and duty,
Your
EVELINA
Letter Twelve
Evelina in continuation
Tuesday, April 5
There is to be no end to the troubles of last night. I have this moment, between persuasion and laughter, gathered from Maria the most curious dialogue that ever I heard. You will, at first, be startled at my vanity; but, my dear Sir, have patience!
It must have passed while I was sitting with Mrs Mirvan in the card-room. Maria was taking some refreshment, and saw Lord Orville advancing for the same purpose himself; but he did not know her, though she immediately recollected him. Presently after, a very gay-looking man, stepping hastily up to him, cried, ‘Why, my Lord, what have you done with your lovely partner?’
‘Nothing!’ answered Lord Orville, with a smile and a shrug.
‘By Jove,’ cried the man, ‘she is the most beautiful creature I ever saw in my life!’
Lord Orville, as he well might, laughed, but answered, ‘Yes, a pretty modest-looking girl.’
‘O my Lord!’ cried the madman, ‘she is an angel!’
‘A silent one,’ returned he.
‘Why ay, my Lord, how stands she as to that? She looks all intelligence and expression.’
‘A poor weak girl!’ answered Lord Orville, shaking his head.
‘By Jove,’ cried the other, ‘I am glad to hear it!’
At that moment, the same odious creature who had been my former tormentor, joined them. Addressing Lord Orville with great respect, he said, ‘I beg
pardon, my Lord, – if I was – as I fear might be the case – rather too severe in my censure of the lady who is honoured with your protection – but, my Lord, ill-breeding is apt to provoke a man.’
‘Ill-breeding!’ cried my unknown champion, ‘impossible! that elegant face can never be so vile a mask!’
‘O Sir, as to that,’ answered he, ‘you must allow me to judge; for though I pay all deference to your opinion – in other things, – yet I hope you will grant – and I appeal to your Lordship also – that I am not totally despicable as a judge of good or ill manners.’
‘I was so wholly ignorant,’ said Lord Orville gravely, ‘of the provocation you might have had, that I could not but be surprised at your singular resentment.’
‘It was far from my intention,’ answered he, ‘to offend your Lordship; but really, for a person who is nobody, to give herself such airs, – I own I could not command my passions. For, my Lord, though I have made diligent enquiry – I cannot learn who she is.’
‘By what I can make out,’ cried my defender, ‘she must be a country parson’s daughter.’
‘He! he! he! very good, ’pon honour!’ cried the fop, – ‘well, so I could have sworn by her manners.’
And then, delighted at his own wit, he laughed, and went away, as I suppose, to repeat it.
‘But what the deuce is all this?’ demanded the other.
‘Why a very foolish affair,’ answered Lord Orville; ‘your Helen first refused 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, ill-bred? – I can never believe it! And she looks too sensible to be ignorant.’
‘Whether ignorant or mischievous, I will not pretend to determine, but certain it is, she attended to all I could say to her, though I have really fatigued myself with fruitless endeavours to entertain her, with the most immoveable gravity; but no sooner did Lovel begin his complaint, than she was seized with a fit of laughing, first affronting the poor beau, and then enjoying his mortification.’
‘Ha! ha! ha! why there’s some genius in that, my Lord, though perhaps rather – rustick.’
Here Maria was called to dance, and so heard no more.
Now tell me, my dear Sir, did you ever know any thing more provoking? ‘A poor weak girl!’ ‘ignorant or mischievous!’. What mortifying words! I am resolved, however, that I will never again be tempted to go to an assembly. I wish I had been in Dorsetshire.
Well, after this, you will not be surprised that Lord Orville contented himself with an enquiry after our healths this morning, by his servant, without troubling himself to call, as Miss Mirvan had told me he would: but perhaps it may be only a country custom.
I would not live here for the world. I care not how soon we leave town. London soon grows tiresome. I wish the Captain would come. Mrs Mirvan talks of the opera for this evening; however, I am very indifferent about it.
Wednesday morning
Well, my dear Sir, I have been pleased against my will, I could almost say, for I must own I went out in very ill-humour, which I think you cannot wonder at: but the music and the singing were charming; they soothed me into a pleasure the most grateful, the best suited to my present disposition in the world. I hope to persuade Mrs Mirvan to go again on Saturday. I wish the opera was every night. It is, of all entertainments, the sweetest, and most delightful. Some of the songs seemed to melt my very soul. It was what they call a serious opera, as the comic first singer was ill.
To-night we go to Ranelagh. If any of those three gentlemen who conversed so freely about me should be there – but I won’t think of it.
Thursday morning
Well, my dear Sir, we went to Ranelagh. It is a charming place, and the brilliancy of the lights, on my first entrance, made me almost think I was in some enchanted castle, or fairy palace, for all looked like magic to me.
The very first person I saw was Lord Orville. I felt so confused! – but he did not see me. After tea, Mrs Mirvan being tired, Maria and I walked round the room alone. Then again we saw him, standing by the orchestra. We, too, stopped to hear a singer. He bowed to me; I courtsied, and I am sure I coloured. We soon walked on, not liking our situation: however, he did not follow us; and when we passed by the orchestra again, he was gone. Afterwards, in the course of the evening, we met him several times; but he was always with some party, and never spoke to us, tho’ whenever he chanced to meet my eyes, he condescended to bow.
I cannot but be hurt at the opinion he entertains of me. It is true, my own behaviour incurred it – yet he is himself the most agreeable and, seemingly, the most amiable man in the world, and therefore it is, that I am grieved to be thought ill of by him: for of whose esteem ought we to be ambitious, if not of those who most merit our own? – But it is too late to reflect upon this now. Well, I can’t help it; – However, I think I have done with assemblies!
This morning was destined for seeing sights, auctions, curious shops, and so forth; but my head ached, and I was not in a humour to be amused, and so I made them go without me, though very unwillingly. They are all kindness.
And now I am sorry I did not accompany them, for I know not what to do with myself. I had resolved not to go to the play to-night; but I believe I shall. In short, 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 so entertained! – while I, like a fool, stayed at home to do nothing. And, at an auction in Pall-mall, who should they meet but Lord Orville! He sat next to Mrs Mirvan, and they talked a great deal together: but she gave me no account of the conversation.
I may never have such another opportunity of seeing London; I am quite sorry that I was not of the party; but I deserve this mortification, for having indulged my ill-humour.
Thursday night
We are just returned from the play, which was King Lear, and has made me very sad. We did not see any body we knew.
Well, adieu, it is too late to write more.
Friday
Captain Mirvan is arrived. I have not spirits to give an account of his introduction, for he has really shocked me. I do not like him. He seems to be surly, vulgar, and disagreeable.
Almost the same moment that Maria was presented to him, he began some rude jests upon the bad shape of her nose, and called her a tall, ill-formed thing. She bore it with the utmost good humour; but that kind and sweet-tempered woman, Mrs Mirvan, deserved a better lot. I am amazed she would marry him.
For my own part, I have been so shy, that I have hardly spoken to him, or he to me. I cannot imagine why the family was so rejoiced at his return. If he had spent his whole life abroad, I should have supposed they might rather have been thankful than sorrowful. However, I hope they do not think so ill of him as I do. At least, I am sure they have too much prudence to make it known.
Saturday night
We have been to the opera, and I am still more pleased than I was on Tuesday. I could have thought myself in paradise, but for the continual talking of the company around me. We sat in the pit, where every body was dressed in so high a style, that, if I had been less delighted with the performance, my eyes would have found me sufficient entertainment from looking at the ladies.
I was very glad I did not sit next the Captain, for he could not bear the music, or singers, and was extremely gross in his observations on both. When the opera was over, we went into a place called the coffee-room, where ladies as well as gentlemen assemble. There are all sorts of refreshments, and the company walk about, and chat with the same ease and freedom as in a private room.
On Monday we go to a ridotto, and on Wednesday we return to Howard Grove. The Captain says he won’t stay here to be smoked with filth any longer; but, having been seven years smoked with a burning sun, he will retire to the country, and sink into a fair-weather chap.
Adieu, my dear Sir.
Letter Thirteen
Evelina in continuation
Tues
day, April 12
My dear Sir,
We came home from the ridotto so late, or rather, so early, that it was not possible for me to write. Indeed we did not go, you will be frightened to hear it, – till past eleven o’clock: but nobody does. A terrible reverse of the order of nature! We sleep with the sun, and wake with the moon.
The room was very magnificent, the lights and decorations were brilliant, and the company gay and splendid. But I should have told you, that I made many objections to being of the party, according to the resolution I had formed. However, Maria laughed me out of my scruples, and so once again – I went to an assembly.
Miss Mirvan danced a minuet, but I had not the courage to follow her example. In our walks I saw Lord Orville. He was quite alone, but did not observe us. Yet, as he seemed of no party, I thought it was not impossible that he might join us; and tho’ I did not wish much to dance at all, – yet, as I was more acquainted with him than with any other person in the room, I must own I could not help thinking it would be infinitely more desirable to dance again with him, than with an entire stranger. To be sure, after all that had passed, it was very ridiculous to suppose it even probable, that Lord Orville would again honour me with his choice; yet I am compelled to confess my absurdity, by way of explaining what follows.
Miss Mirvan was soon engaged; and, presently after, a very fashionable, gay-looking man, who seemed about 30 years of age, addressed himself to me, and begged to have the honour of dancing with me. Now Maria’s partner was a gentleman of Mrs Mirvan’s acquaintance; for she had told us it was highly improper for young women to dance with strangers, at any public assembly. Indeed it was by no means my wish so to do; yet I did not like to confine myself from dancing at all; neither did I dare refuse this gentleman, as I had done Mr Lovel, and then, if any acquaintance should offer, accept him: and so, all these reasons combining, induced me to tell him – yet I blush to write it to you! – that I was already engaged; by which I meant to keep myself at liberty to dance or not, as matters should fall out.
Evelina Page 4
