Before we were ready, word was brought us, that Sir Clement Willoughby was in the drawing-room. He introduced himself under the pretence of enquiring after all our healths, and entered the room with the easy air of an old acquaintance; though Mrs Mirvan confesses that he seemed embarrassed, when he found how coldly he was received, not only by the Captain, but by herself.
I was extremely disconcerted at the thoughts of seeing this man again, and did not go down stairs till I was called to tea. He was then deeply engaged in a discourse upon French manners with Madame Duval and the Captain, and the subject seemed so entirely to engross him, that he did not, at first, observe my entrance into the room. Their conversation was supported with great vehemence; the Captain roughly maintaining the superiority of the English in every particular, and Madame Duval warmly refusing to allow of it in any; while Sir Clement exerted all his powers of argument and of ridicule to second and strengthen whatever was advanced by the Captain: for he had the sagacity to discover, that he could take no method so effectual for making the master of the house his friend, as to make Madame Duval his enemy: and indeed, in a very short time, he had reason to congratulate himself upon his successful discernment.
As soon as he saw me, he made a most respectful bow, and hoped I had not suffered from the fatigue of the ridotto: I made no other answer than a slight inclination of the head, for I was very much ashamed of that whole affair. He then returned to the disputants, where he managed the argument so skillfully, at once provoking Madame Duval, and delighting the Captain, that I could not forbear admiring his address, though I condemned his subtlety. Mrs Mirvan, dreading such violent antagonists, attempted frequently to change the subject; and she might have succeeded, but for the interposition of Sir Clement, who would not suffer it to be given up, and supported it with such humour and satire, that he seems to have won the Captain’s heart; though their united forces so enraged and overpowered Madame Duval, that she really trembled with passion.
I was very glad when Mrs Mirvan said it was time to be gone. Sir Clement arose to take leave; but the Captain very cordially invited him to join our party: he had an engagement, he said, but would give it up to have that pleasure.
Some little confusion ensued in regard to our manner of setting off: Mrs Mirvan offered Madame Duval a place in her coach, and proposed that we four females should go all together: however, this she rejected, declaring she would by no means go so far without a gentleman, and wondering so polite a lady could make so English a proposal. Sir Clement Willoughby said his chariot was waiting at the door, and begged to know if it could be of any use. It was, at last, decided, that a hackney-coach should be called for Monsieur Du Bois and Madame Duval, in which the Captain, and, at his request, Sir Clement, went also; Mrs and Miss Mirvan and I had a peaceful and comfortable ride by ourselves.
I doubt not but they quarrelled all the way; for when we met at Ranelagh, every one seemed out of humour: and, though we joined parties, poor Madame Duval was avoided as much as possible by all but me.
The room was so very much crowded, that, but for the uncommon assiduity of Sir Clement Willoughby, we should not have been able to procure a box (which is the name given to the arched recesses that are appropriated for tea-parties) till half the company had retired. As we were taking possession of our places, some ladies of Mrs Mirvan’s acquaintance stopped to speak to her, and persuaded her to take a round with them. When she returned to us, what was my surprise, to see that Lord Orville had joined her party! The ladies walked on; Mrs Mirvan seated herself, and made a slight, though respectful, invitation to Lord Orville to drink his tea with us, which, to my no small consternation, he accepted.
I felt a confusion unspeakable at again seeing him, from the recollection of the ridotto adventure: nor did my situation lessen it, for I was seated between Madame Duval and Sir Clement, who seemed as little as myself to desire Lord Orville’s presence. Indeed, the continual wrangling and ill-breeding of Captain Mirvan and Madame Duval, made me blush that I belonged to them. And poor Mrs Mirvan and her amiable daughter had still less reason to be satisfied.
A general silence ensued after he was seated: his appearance, from different motives, gave a universal restraint to every body. What his own reasons were for honouring us with his company, I cannot imagine, unless, indeed, he had a curiosity to know whether I should invent any new impertinence concerning him.
The first speech was made by Madame Duval, who said, ‘It’s quite a shocking thing to see ladies come to so genteel a place as Ranelagh with hats on; it has a monstrous vulgar look: I can’t think what they wear them for. There’s no such a thing to be seen in Paris.’
‘Indeed,’ cried Sir Clement, ‘I must own myself no advocate for hats; I am sorry the ladies ever invented or adopted so tantalizing a fashion; for, where there is beauty, they only serve to shade it, and where there is none, to excite a most unavailing curiosity. I fancy they were originally worn by some young and whimsical coquet.’
‘More likely,’ answered the Captain, ‘they were invented by some wrinkled old hag, who’d a mind for to keep the young fellows in chace, let them be never so weary.’
‘I don’t know what you may do in England,’ cried Madame Duval, ‘but I know in Paris no woman need n’t be at such a trouble as that, to be taken very genteel notice of.’
‘Why, will you pretend for to say,’ returned the Captain, ‘that they don’t distinguish the old from the young there as well as here?’
‘They don’t make no distinguishments at all,’ said she; ‘they’re vastly too polite.’
‘More fools they!’ cried the Captain, sneeringly.
‘Would to Heaven,’ cried Sir Clement, ‘that, for our own sakes, we Englishmen too were blessed with so accommodating a blindness!’
‘Why the devil do you make such a prayer as that?’ demanded the Captain: ‘them are the first foolish words I’ve heard you speak; but I suppose you’re not much used to that sort of work. Did you ever make a prayer before, since you were a sniveler?’
‘Ay, now,’ cried Madame Duval, ‘that’s another of the unpolitenesses of you English, to go to talking of such things as that: now in Paris, nobody never says nothing about religion, no more than about politics.’
‘Why then,’ answered he, ‘it’s a sign they take no more care of their souls than of their country, and so both one and t’other go to old Nick.’
‘Well, if they do,’ said she, ‘who’s the worse, so long as they don’t say nothing about it? it’s the tiresomest thing in the world to be always talking of them sort of things, and nobody that’s ever been abroad troubles their heads about them.’
‘Pray then,’ cried the Captain, ‘since you know so much of the matter, be so good as to tell us what they do trouble their heads about? – hay, Sir Clement! ha’n’t we a right to know that much?’
‘A very comprehensive question,’ said Sir Clement, ‘and I expect much instruction from the lady’s answer.’
‘Come, Madam,’ continued the Captain, ‘never flinch; speak at once; don’t stop for thinking.’
‘I assure you I am not going,’ answered she, ‘for as to what they do do, why they’ve enough to do, I promise you, what with one thing or another.’
‘But what, what do they do, these famous Monseers?’ demanded the Captain; ‘can’t you tell us? do they game? – or drink? – or fiddle? – or are they jockies? – or do they spend all their time in flummering old women?’
‘As to that, Sir, – but indeed I sha’n’t trouble myself to answer such a parcel of low questions, so don’t ask me no more about it.’ And then, to my great vexation, turning to Lord Orville, she said, ‘Pray, Sir, was you ever in Paris?’
He only bowed.
‘And pray, Sir, how did you like it?’
This comprehensive question, as Sir Clement would have called it, though it made him smile, also made him hesitate; however, his answer was expressive of his approbation.
‘I thought you would like it, Sir,
because you look so 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 suppose, Sir, you was never abroad?’
‘Only three years, Ma’am,’ answered Sir Clement, drily.
‘Well, that’s very surprising! I should never have thought it: however, I dare say you only kept company with the English.’
‘Why pray, who should he keep company with?’ cried the Captain: ‘what, I suppose you’d have him ashamed of his own nation, like some other people not a thousand miles off, on purpose to make his own nation ashamed of him?’
‘I’m sure it wou’d be a very good thing if you’d go abroad yourself.’
‘How will you make out that, hay, Madam? come, please to tell me, where wou’d be the good of that?’
‘Where! why a great deal. They’d make quite another person of you.’
‘What, I suppose you’d have me learn to cut capers? – and dress like a monkey? – and palaver in French gibberish? – hay, would you? – And powder, and daub, and make myself up, like some other folks?’
‘I would have you learn to be more politer, Sir, and not to talk to ladies in such a rude, old-fashion way as this. You, Sir, as have been in Paris’ (again addressing herself to Lord Orville) ‘can tell this English gentleman how he’d be despised, if he was to talk in such an ungenteel manner as this, before any foreigners. Why there is n’t a hair-dresser, nor a shoe-maker, nor nobody, that would n’t blush to be in your company.’
‘Why look ye, Madam,’ answered the Captain, ‘as to your hair-pinchers and shoe-blacks, you may puff off their manners, and welcome; and I am heartily glad you like ’em so well; but as to me, since you must needs make so free of your advice, I must e’en tell you, I never kept company with any such gentry.’
‘Come, ladies and gentlemen,’ said Mrs Mirvan, ‘as many of you as have done tea, I invite to walk with me.’ Maria and I started up instantly; Lord Orville followed; and I question whether we were not half round the room ere the angry disputants knew that we had left the box.
As the husband of Mrs Mirvan had borne so large a share in this disagreeable altercation, Lord Orville forbore to make any comments upon it; so that the subject was immediately dropped, and the conversation became calmly sociable, and politely chearful, and, to every body but me, must have been highly agreeable: – but, as to myself, I was so eagerly desirous of making some apology to Lord Orville for the impertinence of which he must have thought me guilty at the ridotto, and yet so utterly unable to assume sufficient courage to speak to him concerning an affair in which I had so terribly exposed myself, that I hardly ventured to say a word all the time we were walking. Besides, the knowledge of his contemptuous opinion, haunted and dispirited me, and made me fear he might possibly misconstrue whatever I should say. So that, far from enjoying a conversation which might, at any other time, have delighted me, I continued silent, uncomfortable, and ashamed. O Sir, shall I ever again involve myself in so foolish an embarrassment? I am sure that if I do, I shall deserve yet greater mortification.
We were not joined by the rest of the party till we had taken three or four turns round the room, and then, they were so quarrelsome, that Mrs Mirvan complained of being fatigued, and proposed going home. No one dissented. Lord Orville joined another party, having first made an offer of his services, which the gentlemen declined, and we proceeded to an outward room, where we waited for the carriages. It was settled that we should return to town in the same manner we came to Ranelagh and, accordingly, Monsieur Du Bois handed Madame Duval into a hackney-coach, and was just preparing to follow her, when she screamed, and jumped hastily out, declaring she was wet through all her clothes. Indeed, upon examination, the coach was found to be in a dismal condition; for the weather proved very bad, and the rain had, though I know not how, made its way into the carriage.
Mrs and Miss Mirvan, and myself, were already disposed of as before; but no sooner did the Captain hear this account, than, without any ceremony, he was so civil as to immediately take possession of the vacant seat in his own coach, leaving Madame Duval and Monsieur Du Bois to take care of themselves. As to Sir Clement Willoughby, his own chariot was in waiting.
I instantly begged permission to offer Madame Duval my own place, and made a motion to get out; but Mrs Mirvan stopped me, saying that I should then be obliged to return to town with only the foreigner, or Sir Clement.
‘O never mind the old Beldame,’ cried the Captain, ‘she’s weather-proof, I’ll answer for her; and besides as we are all, I hope, English, why she’ll meet with no worse than she expects from us.’
‘I do not mean to defend her,’ said Mrs Mirvan; ‘but indeed, as she belongs to our party, we cannot, with any decency, leave the place, till she is, by some means, accommodated.’
‘Lord, my dear,’ cried the Captain, whom the distress of Madame Duval had put into very good humour, ‘why she’ll break her heart, if she meets with any civility from a filthy Englishman.’
Mrs Mirvan, however, prevailed, and we all got out of the coach, to wait till Madame Duval could meet with some better carriage. We found her, attended by Monsieur Du Bois, standing amongst the servants, and very busy in wiping her negligee, and endeavouring to save it from being stained by the wet, as she said it was a new Lyons silk. Sir Clement Willoughby offered her the use of his chariot, but she had been too much piqued by his raillery to accept it. We waited some time, but in vain, for no hackney-coach could be procured. The Captain, at last, was persuaded to accompany Sir Clement himself, and we four females were handed into Mrs Mirvan’s carriage, though not before Madame Duval had insisted upon our making room for Monsieur Du Bois, to which the Captain only consented in preference to being incommoded by him in Sir Clement’s chariot.
Our party drove off first. We were silent and unsociable; for the difficulties attending this arrangement had made every one languid and fatigued. Unsociable, I must own, we continued; but very short was the duration of our silence, as we had not proceeded thirty yards, before every voice was heard at once, – for the coach broke down! I suppose we concluded of course, that we were all half killed, by the violent shrieks that seemed to come from every mouth. The chariot was stopped, the servants came to our assistance, and we were taken out of the carriage, without having been at all hurt. The night was dark and wet; but I had scarce touched the ground, when I was lifted suddenly from it, by Sir Clement Willoughby, who begged permission to assist me, though he did not wait to have it granted, but carried me in his arms back to Ranelagh.
He enquired very earnestly if I was not hurt by the accident? I assured him I was perfectly safe, and free from injury, and desired he would leave me, and return to the rest of the party, for I was very uneasy to know whether they had been equally fortunate. He told me he was happy in being honoured with my commands, and would joyfully execute them; but insisted upon first conducting me to a warm room, as I had not wholly escaped being wet. He did not regard my objections, but made me follow him to an apartment, where we found an excellent fire, and some company waiting for carriages. I readily accepted a seat, and then begged he would go.
And go, indeed, he did; but he returned in a moment, telling me that the rain was more violent than ever, and that he had sent his servants to offer their assistance, and acquaint the Mirvans of my situation. I was very mad that he would not go himself; but as my acquaintance with him was so very slight, I did not think proper to urge him contrary to his inclination.
Well, he drew a chair close to mine, and, after again enquiring how I did, said, in a low voice, ‘You will pardon me, Miss Anville, if the eagerness I feel to vindicate myself, induces me to snatch this opportunity of making sincere acknowledgements for the impertinence with which I tormented you at the last ridotto. I can assure you, Madam, I have been a true and sorrowful penitent ever since; but – shall I tell you honestly what encouraged me to——’
He stopped; but I said nothing, for I thought instantly of the convers
ation Miss Mirvan had overheard, and supposed he was going to tell me himself what part Lord Orville had borne in it; and really I did not wish to hear it repeated. Indeed, the rest of his speech convinces me that such was his intention; with what view, I know not, except to make a merit of his defending me.
‘And yet,’ he continued, ‘my excuse may only expose my own credulity, and want of judgement and penetration. I will, therefore, merely beseech your pardon, and hope that some future time——’
Just then, the door was opened by Sir Clement’s servant, and I had the pleasure of seeing the Captain, Mrs and Miss Mirvan, enter the room.
‘O ho,’ cried the former, ‘you have got a good warm birth here; but we shall beat up your quarters. Here, Lucy, Moll, come to the fire, and dry your trumpery. But, hey-day, – why where’s old Madam French?’
‘Good God,’ cried I, ‘is not Madame Duval then with you?’
‘With me! No, – thank God.’
I was very uneasy to know what might have become of her, and, if they would have suffered me, I should have gone out in search of her myself; but all the servants were dispatched to find her, and the Captain said we might be very sure her French beau would take care of her.
We waited some time without any tidings, and were soon the only party in the room. My uneasiness increased so much, that Sir Clement now made a voluntary offer of seeking her. However, the same moment that he opened the door with this design, she presented herself at it, attended by Monsieur Du Bois.
‘I was this instant, Madam,’ said he, ‘coming to see for you.’
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