The Captain, regarding him with the utmost contempt, answered in a loud voice, ‘Think of him! – why I think he’s a man!’ And then, staring full in his face, he struck his cane on the ground, with a violence that made him start. He did not, however, chuse to take any notice of this; but, having bit his nails some time, in manifest confusion, he turned very quick to me, and, in a sneering tone of voice, said, ‘For my part, I was most struck with the country young lady, Miss Prue; pray what do you think of her, Ma’am?’
‘Indeed, Sir,’ cried I, very much provoked, ‘I think – that is, I do not think any thing about her.’
‘Well, really, Ma’am, you prodigiously surprise me! – mais apparemment ce n’est qu’un façon de parler?* – though I should beg your pardon, for probably you do not understand French?’
I made no answer, for I thought his rudeness intolerable; but Sir Clement, with great warmth, said, ‘I am surprised that you can suppose such an object as Miss Prue would engage the attention of Miss Anville even for a moment.’
‘O Sir,’ returned this fop, ‘’tis the first character in the piece! – so well drawn, – so much the thing! – such true country-breeding, – such rural ignorance! – ha! ha! ha! – ’tis most admirably hit off, ’pon honour!’
I could almost have cried, that such impertinence should be levelled at me; and yet, chagrined as I was, I could never behold Lord Orville and this man at the same time, and feel any regret for the cause I had given of displeasure.
‘The only female in the play,’ said Lord Orville, ‘worthy of being mentioned to these ladies, is Angelica.’
‘Angelica,’ cried Sir Clement, ‘is a noble girl; she tries her lover severely, but she rewards him generously.’
‘Yet, in a trial so long,’ said Mrs Mirvan, ‘there seems rather too much consciousness of her power.’
‘Since my opinion has the sanction of Mrs Mirvan’s,’ added Lord Orville, ‘I will venture to say, that Angelica bestows her hand rather with the air of a benefactress, than with the tenderness of a mistress. Generosity without delicacy, like wit without judgement, generally give as much pain as pleasure. The uncertainty in which she keeps Valentine, and her manner of trifling with his temper, give no very favourable idea of her own.’
‘Well, my Lord,’ said Mr Lovel, ‘it must, however, be owned, that uncertainty is not the ton among our ladies at present; nay, indeed, I think they say, though, faith,’ taking a pinch of snuff, ‘I hope it is not true – but they say, that we now are most shy and backward.’
The curtain then drew up, and our conversation ceased. Mr Lovel, finding we chose to attend to the players, left the box. How strange it is, Sir, that this man, not contented with the large share of foppery and nonsense which he has from nature, should think proper to affect yet more! for what he said of Tattle and of Miss Prue, convinced me that he really had listened to the play, though he was so ridiculous and foolish as to pretend ignorance.
But how malicious and impertinent in this creature to talk to me in such a manner! I am sure I hope I shall never see him again. I should have despised him heartily as a fop, had he never spoken to me at all; but now, that he thinks proper to resent his supposed ill-usage, I am really quite afraid of him.
The entertainment was, The Deuce is in him, which Lord Orville observed to be the most finished and elegant petite piece that was ever written in English.
In our way home, Mrs Mirvan put me into some consternation, by saying it was evident, from the resentment which this Mr Lovel harbours of my conduct, that he would think it a provocation sufficiently important for a duel, if his courage equalled his wrath.
I am terrified at the very idea. Good Heaven! that a man so weak and frivolous should be so revengeful! However, if bravery would have excited him to affront Lord Orville, how much reason have I to rejoice, that cowardice makes him contented with venting his spleen upon me! But we shall leave town soon, and, I hope, see him no more.
It was some consolation to me, to hear, from Miss Mirvan, that, while he was speaking to me so cavalierly, Lord Orville regarded him with great indignation.
But, really, I think there ought to be a book, of the laws and customs à-la-mode, presented to all young people upon their first introduction into public company.
To-night we go to the opera, where I expect very great pleasure. We shall have the same party as at the play; for Lord Orville said he should be there, and would look for us.
Letter Twenty-One
Evelina in continuation
I have a volume to write of the adventures of yesterday.
In the afternoon, – at Berry Hill, I should have said the evening, for it was almost six o’clock, – while Miss Mirvan and I were dressing for the opera, and in high spirits, from the expectation of great entertainment and pleasure, we heard a carriage stop at the door, and concluded that Sir Clement Willoughby, with his usual assiduity, was come to attend us to the Haymarket; but, in a few moments, what was our surprise, to see our chamber-door flung open, and the two Miss Branghtons enter the room! They advanced to me with great familiarity, saying, ‘How do you do, cousin? – so we’ve caught you at the glass! – well, I’m determined I’ll tell my brother of that!’
Miss Mirvan, who had never before seen them, and could not, at first, imagine who they were, looked so much astonished, that I was ready to laugh myself, till the eldest said, ‘We’re come to take you to the opera, Miss; papa and my brother are below, and we are to call for your grand-mama as we go along.’
‘I am very sorry,’ answered I, ‘that you should have taken so much trouble, as I am engaged already.’
‘Engaged! Lord, Miss, never mind that,’ cried the youngest, ‘this young lady will make your excuses, I dare say; it’s only doing as one would be done by, you know.’
‘Indeed, Ma’am,’ said Miss Mirvan, ‘I shall myself be very sorry to be deprived of Miss Anville’s company this evening.’
‘Well, Miss, that is not so very good-natured in you,’ said Miss Branghton, ‘considering we only come to give our cousin pleasure; 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.’
‘I am extremely obliged to you,’ said I, ‘and very sorry you have lost so much time; but I cannot possibly help it, for I engaged myself without knowing you would call.’
‘Lord, what signifies that?’ said Miss Polly, ‘you’re no old maid, and so you need n’t be so very formal: besides, I dare say those you are engaged to, a’n’t half so near related to you as we are.’
‘I must beg you not to press me any further, for I assure you it is not in my power to attend you.’
‘Why we came all out of the city on purpose: besides, your grand-mama expects you; – and pray, what are we to say to her?’
‘Tell her, if you please, that I am much concerned, – but that I am pre-engaged.’
‘And who to?’ demanded the abrupt Miss Branghton.
‘To Mrs Mirvan, – and a large party.’
‘And, pray, what are you all going to do, that it would be such a mighty matter for you to come along with us?’
‘We are all going to – to the opera.’
‘O dear, if that be all, why can’t we go all together?’
I was extremely disconcerted at this forward and ignorant behaviour, and yet their rudeness very much lessened my concern at refusing them. Indeed, their dress was such as would have rendered their scheme of accompanying our party impracticable, even if I had desired it; and this, as they did not themselves find out, I was obliged, in terms the least mortifying I could think of, to tell them.
They were very much chagrined, and asked where I should sit?
‘In the pit,’ answered I.
‘In the pit!’ repeated Miss Branghton, ‘well, really, I must own I should never have supposed that my gown was not good enough for the pit: but come, Polly, let’s go; if Miss does not think us fine enough for her, why to be sure she may chuse.’
&nb
sp; Surprised at this ignorance, I would have explained to them that the pit at the opera required the same dress as the boxes; but they were so much affronted, they would not hear me, and, in great displeasure, left the room, saying they would not have troubled me, only they thought I should not be so proud with my own relations, and that they had at least as good a right to my company as strangers.
I endeavoured to apologize, and would have sent a long message to Madame Duval; but they hastened away without listening to me; and I could not follow them down stairs, because I was not dressed. The last words I heard them say, were, ‘Well, her grand-mama will be in a fine passion, that’s one good thing.’
Though I was extremely mad at this visit, yet I so heartily rejoiced at their going, that I would not suffer myself to think gravely about it.
Soon after, Sir Clement actually came, and we all went down stairs. Mrs Mirvan ordered tea; and we were engaged in a very lively conversation, when the servant announced Madame Duval, who instantly followed him into the room.
Her face was the colour of scarlet, and her eyes sparkled with fury. She came up to me with a hasty step, saying, ‘So, Miss, you refuses to come to me, do you? And pray who are you, to dare to disobey me?’
I was quite frightened; – I made no answer; – I even attempted to rise, and could not, but sat still, mute and motionless.
Every body, but Miss Mirvan, seemed in the utmost astonishment; and the Captain, rising and approaching Madame Duval, with a voice of authority, said, ‘Why how now, Mrs Turkey Cock, what’s put you into this here fluster?’
‘It’s nothing to you,’ answered she, ‘so you may as well hold your tongue, for I sha’n’t be called to no account by you, I assure you.’
‘There you’re out, Madam Fury,’ returned he, ‘for you must know I never suffer any body to be in a passion in my house, but myself.’
‘But you shall,’ cried she, in a great rage, ‘for I’ll be in as great a passion as ever I please, without asking your leave, so don’t give yourself no more airs about it. And as for you, Miss,’ again advancing to me, ‘I order you to follow me this moment, or else I’ll make you repent it all your life.’ And, with these words, she flung out of the room.
I was in such extreme terror, at being addressed and threatened in a manner to which I am so wholly unused, that I almost thought I should have fainted.
‘Don’t be alarmed, my love,’ cried Mrs Mirvan, ‘but stay where you are, and I will follow Madame Duval, and try to bring her to reason.’
Miss Mirvan took my hand, and most kindly endeavoured to raise my spirits: Sir Clement, too, approached me, with an air so interested in my distress, that I could not but feel myself obliged to him; and, taking my other hand, said, ‘For Heaven’s sake, my dear Madam, compose yourself; surely the violence of such a wretch ought merely to move your contempt; she can have no right, I imagine, to lay her commands upon you, and I only wish that you would allow me to speak to her.’
‘O no! not for the world! – indeed, I believe, – I am afraid – I had better follow her.’
‘Follow her! Good God, my dear Miss Anville, would you trust yourself with a mad woman? for what else can you call a creature whose passions are so insolent? No, no; send her word at once to leave the house, and tell her you desire that she will never see you again.’
‘O Sir! you don’t know who you talk of! – it would ill become me to send Madame Duval such a message.’
‘But why,’ cried he, (looking very inquisitive), ‘why should you scruple to treat her as she deserves?’
I then found that his aim was to discover the nature of her connection with me; but I felt so much ashamed of my near relationship to her, that I could not persuade myself to answer him, and only entreated that he would leave her to Mrs Mirvan, who just then entered the room.
Before she could speak to me, the Captain called out, ‘Well, Goody, what have you done with Madame French? is she cooled a little? ’cause if she be n’t, I’ve just thought of a most excellent device to bring her to.’
‘My dear Evelina,’ said Mrs Mirvan, ‘I have been vainly endeavouring to appease her; I pleaded your engagement, and promised your future attendance: but I am sorry to say, my love, that I fear her rage will end in a total breach (which I think you had better avoid) if she is any further opposed.’
‘Then I will go to her, Madam,’ cried I, ‘and, indeed, it is now no matter, for I should not be able to recover my spirits sufficiently to enjoy much pleasure any where this evening.’
Sir Clement began a very warm expostulation, and entreaty, that I would not go; but I begged him to desist, and told him, very honestly, that, if my compliance were not indispensably necessary, I should require no persuasion to stay. He then took my hand, to lead me down stairs; but the Captain desired him to be quiet, saying he would ‘squire me himself, ‘because,’ he added (exultingly rubbing his hands), ‘I have a wipe ready for the old lady, which may serve her to chew as she goes along.’
We found her in the parlour. ‘O, you’re come at last, Miss, are you? – fine airs you give yourself, indeed! – ma foi, if you had n’t come, you might have stayed, I assure you, and have been a beggar for your pains.’
‘Hey-day, Madam,’ cried the Captain (prancing forward, with a look of great glee), ‘what, a’n’t you got out of that there passion yet? why then, I’ll tell you what to do to cool yourself; call upon your old friend, Monseer Slippery, who was with you at Ranelagh, and give my service to him, and tell him, if he sets any store by your health, that I desire he’ll give you such another souse as he did before: he’ll know what I mean, and I’ll warrant you he’ll do’t for my sake.’
‘Let him, if he dares!’ cried Madame Duval; ‘but I sha’n’t stay to answer you no more; you are a vulgar fellow, – and so, child, let us leave him to himself.’
‘Hark ye, Madam,’ cried the Captain ‘you’d best not call names, because, d’ye see, if you do, I shall make bold to shew you the door.’
She changed colour, and saying, ‘Pardi, I can shew it myself,’ 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 message to Monseer.’
You will believe our ride was not the most agreeable in the world; indeed, it would be difficult to say which was least pleased, Madame Duval or me, though the reasons of our discontent were so different: however, Madame Duval soon got the start of me; for we had hardly turned out of Queen-Ann-Street, when a man, running full speed, stopped the coach. He came up to the window, and I saw he was the Captain’s servant. He had a broad grin on his face, and panted for breath. Madame Duval demanded his business; ‘Madam,’ answered he, ‘my master desires his compliments to you, and – and – and he says he wishes it well over with you. He! he! he! – ’
Madame Duval instantly darted forward, and gave him a violent blow on the face; ‘Take that back for your answer, sirrah,’ cried she, ‘and learn to grin at your betters another time. Coachman, drive on!’
The servant was in a violent passion, and swore terribly; but we were soon out of hearing.
The rage of Madame Duval was greater than ever, and she inveighed against the Captain with such fury, that I was even apprehensive she would have returned to his house, purposely to reproach him, which she repeatedly threatened to do; nor would she, I believe have hesitated a moment, but that, notwithstanding her violence, he has really made her afraid of him.
When we came to her lodgings, we found all the Branghtons in the passage, impatiently waiting for us, with the door open.
‘Only see, here’s Miss!’ cried the brother.
‘Well, I declare I thought as much!’ said the younger sister.
‘Why, Miss,’ said Mr Branghton, ‘I think you might as well have come with your cousins at once; it’s throwing money in the dirt, to pay two coaches for one fare.’
‘Lord, father,’ cried the son, ‘make no words a
bout that; for I’ll pay for the coach that Miss had.’
‘O, I know very well,’ answered Mr Branghton, ‘that you’re always more ready to spend than to earn.’
I then interfered, and begged that I might myself be allowed to pay the fare, as the expence was incurred upon my account; they all said no, and proposed that the same coach should carry us on to the opera.
While this passed, the Miss Branghtons were examining my dress, which, indeed, was very improper for my company; and as I was extremely unwilling to be so conspicuous amongst them, I requested Madame Duval to borrow a hat or bonnet for me of the people of the house. But she never wears either herself, and thinks them very English and barbarous; therefore she insisted that I should go full dressed, as I had prepared myself for the pit, though I made many objections.
We were then all crowded into the same carriage; but when we arrived at the Opera-house, I contrived to pay the coachman. They made a great many speeches; but Mr Branghton’s reflection had determined me not to be indebted to him.
If I had not been too much chagrined to laugh, I should have been extremely diverted at their ignorance of whatever belongs to an opera. In the first place, they could not tell at what door we ought to enter, and we wandered about for some time, without knowing which way to turn: they did not chuse to apply to me, though I was the only person of the party who had ever before been at an opera; because they were unwilling to suppose that their country cousin, as they were pleased to call me, should be better acquainted with any London public place than themselves. I was very indifferent and careless upon this subject, but not a little uneasy at finding that my dress, so different from that of the company to which I belonged, attracted general notice and observation.
In a short time, however, we arrived at one of the door-keeper’s bars. Mr Branghton demanded for what part of the house they took money? They answered the pit, and regarded us all with great earnestness. The son then advancing, said, ‘Sir, if you please, I beg that I may treat Miss.’
‘We’ll settle that another time,’ answered Mr Branghton, and put down a guinea.
Evelina Page 10
