 A house has been enlivened to-day by the arrival of a London visitor, and the necessity I have been under of concealing the uneasiness of my mind, has made me exert myself so effectually that I even think it is really diminished—or at least my thoughts are not so totally so very anxiously occupied by one subject only as lately they were. I was strolling this morning with Miss Mervyn, down a lane about a mile from the grove, when we heard the trampling of horses, and fearing the narrowness of the passage, we were turning hastily back, but stopped upon hearing a voice call out, Pray, ladies, don't be frightened, for I will walk my horse. We turned again, and then saw Sir Clement Willoughby. He dismounted, and approaching us with the reins in his hand, presently recollected us. Good Heaven! cried he, with his usual quickness. Do I see Miss Anvil? And you too, Miss Mervyn? He immediately ordered his servant to take charge of his horse, and then advancing to us took a hand of each which he pressed to his lips, and said a thousand fine things concerning his good fortune are improved looks in the charms of the country, when inhabited by such rural deities. The town, ladies, has languished since your absence, or at least I have so much languished myself as to be absolutely insensible to all it had to offer. One refreshing breeze, such as I now enjoy, awakens me to new vigor, life, and spirit. But I never before had the good luck to see the country in such perfection. That's not almost everybody left town, sir," said Miss Mervyn. I am ashamed to answer you, madam, but indeed it is as full as ever, and will continue so till after the birthday. However you ladies were so little seen, that there are but few who know what it has lost. For my own part I felt it too sensibly, to be able to endure the place any longer. Is there any body remaining there that we were acquainted with? cried I. Oh, yes, ma'am! And then he named two or three persons, we have seen one with him, but he did not mention Lord Orville, and I would not ask him, lest he should think me curious. Perhaps if he stays here some time, he may speak of him by accident. He was proceeding in this complementary style, when we were met by the captain, who no sooner perceived Sir Clement than he hastened up to him, gave him a hearty shake of the hand, a cordial slap on the back, and some other equally gentle tokens of satisfaction, assuring him of his great joy at his visit, and declaring he was as glad to see him, as if he had been a messenger who brought news that a French ship was sunk. Sir Clement, on the other side, expressed himself with equal warmth, and protested he had been so eager to pay his respects to Captain Mervin, that he had left London in its full lustre, and a thousand engagements unanswered, merely to give himself that pleasure. We shall have rare sport," said the captain. For do you know the old French woman is among us? For George, I have scarce made any use of her yet, by a reason I have had nobody with me that could enjoy a joke. However, it shall go hard, but will have some diversion now. Sir Clement very much approved of the proposal, and we then went into the house, where he had a very grave reception from Mrs. Mervin, who is by no means pleased with his visit, and a look of much discontent from Madame du Vaux, who said to me in a low voice, I'd as soon have seen old Nick as that man, for he's the most impertinentest person in the world, and isn't never of my side. The captain is now actually occupied in contriving some scheme, which, he says, is to pay the old Dowager off, and so eager and delighted as he had the idea that he can scarcely restrain his raptures sufficiently to conceal his design even from herself. I wish, however, since I do not dare put Madame du Vaux upon her guard, that he had the delicacy not to acquaint me with his intention. Everliner by Fanny Burney Letter 33 Everliner in Continuation May 13th The captain's operations are begun, and I hope, ended, for indeed poor Madame du Vaux has already but too much reason to regret Sir Clement's visit to Howard Grove. Yesterday morning, during breakfast, as the captain was reading the newspaper, Sir Clement suddenly begged to look at it, saying he wanted to know if there was any account of a transaction, at which he had been present the evening before his journey hither, concerning a poor Frenchman, who had gotten to a scrape which might have cost him his life. The captain demanded particulars, and then Sir Clement told a long story of being with a party of country friends at the tower, and hearing a man call out for mercy in French, and that when he inquired into the occasion of his distress, he was informed that he had been taken upon suspicion of treasonable practices against the government. The poor fellow, continued he, no sooner found out that I spoke French, that he besought me to hear him, protesting that he had no evil designs, that he had been but a short time in England, and only awaited the return of a lady from the country to quit it forever. Madame du Vaux changed colour, and listened with the utmost attention. Now, though I by no means approve of so many foreigners continually flocking into our country, added he, addressing himself to the captain, yet I could not help pitying the poor wretch, because he did not know enough of English to make his defence. However, I found it impossible to assist him, for the mob would not suffer me to interfere. In truth I am afraid he was but roughly handled. Why, did they duck him? said the captain. — Something of that sort, answered he. — So much the better, so much the better! cried the captain, an impudent French puppy. I'll bet you what, you will, he was a rascal. I only wish all his countrymen were served the same. — I wish you had been in his place, with all my soul! cried Madame du Vaux warmly. But praser, didn't nobody know who this poor gentleman was? — Why, I did hear his name. — — — answered to Clement. — But I cannot recollect it. — It wasn't—it wasn't Du Bois. stammered out, Madame du Vaux. — The very name? — — — —— — — —— — — —— — — — — Yes, Du Bois, I remember it, now. — Madame du Vaux' cup fell from her hand, as she repeated.—Dubois! Monsieur Dubois, did you say?—Dubois! Why, that's my friend!" cried the captain.—That's, Monsay, a slippery in it, why he's plaguey fond of sowsing work. How some ever I'll be sworn they gave him his fill of it.—And I'll be sworn—cried Madame Dubois—that Dura—but I don't believe nothing about it, so you needn't be so overjoyed, for I daresay it was no more Monsieur Dubois than I am. I thought at the time, said Sir Clement very gravely, that I had seen the gentleman before, and now I recollect I think it was in company with you, madame.—With me, sir?—cried Madame Dubois—say you so, said the captain, why then it must be he as sure as you're alive. Well, but my good friend, what will they do with poor Monsay? It is difficult to say," answered Sir Clement very thoughtfully, but I should suppose that if he has not good friends to appear for him, he will be in a very unpleasant situation, for these are serious sorts of affairs.—Why, do you think they'll hang him?—demanded the captain. Sir Clement shook his head, but made no answer. Madame Dubois could no longer contain her agitation. She started from her chair, repeating, with a voice half-choked, hang him, s'y can't! They shan't! Let him at her peril!—However, it's all false, and I won't believe a word of it. But I'll go to town, this very moment, and see Monsieur Dubois myself. I won't wait for nothing." Mrs. Mervyn begged her not to be alarmed, but she flew out of the room and up to the stairs in her own apartment. Lady Howard blamed both the gentleman for having been so abrupt, and followed her. I would have accompanied her, but the captain stopped me, and having first laughed very heartily, said he was going to read his commission to his ship's company. Now, do you see? said he. As to Lady Howard, I shan't pretend for to enlist her into my service, and so I shall even leave her to make it out as well as she can, but as to all you, I expect obedience and submission to orders. I am now upon a hazardous expedition, having undertaken to convey a crazy vessel to the shores of mortification. So do you see, if any of you have anything to propose that will forward the enterprise, why speak and welcome? But, if any of you that are of my chosen crew, capitulate, or enter into any treaty with the enemy, I shall look upon you as mutinying, and turn you and rift." Having finished this harangue, which was interladed with many expressions and sea-phases that I cannot recollect, he gave Seclement a wink of intelligence, and left us to ourselves. Indeed, notwithstanding the attempts I so frequently make of writing some of the captain's conversation, I can only give you a faint idea of his language, for almost every other word he utters is accompanied by an oath, which I am sure would be as unpleasant for you to read as for me to write, and besides, he makes use of a thousand sea-terms, which are to me quite unintelligible. Poor Madame Duvall sent to inquire at all probable places, whether she could be conveyed to town in any stagecoach, but the captain's servant brought of her answer, that no London stage would pass near Howard Grove till to-day. She then sent to order a shez, but was soon assured that no horses could be procured. She was so much inflamed by these disappointments, that she threatened to set out for town on foot, and it was with difficulty that Lady Howard dissuaded her from this mad scheme. The whole morning was filled up with these inquiries, but when we were all assembled to dinner, she endeavoured to appear perfectly unconcerned, and repeatedly protested that she gave not any credit to the report, as far as it regarded Monsieur Duvall, being very certain that he was not the person in question. The captain used the most provoking efforts to convince her that she deceived herself, whilst the clement with more art, though not less malice, affected to be of her opinion, but at the same time that he pretended to relieve her uneasiness, by saying that he doubted not having mistaken the name, he took care to enlarge upon the danger to which the unknown gentleman was exposed, and expressed great concern at his perilous situation. Dinner was hardly removed when a letter was delivered to Madame Duvall. The moment she had read it, she hastily demanded from whom it came. A country boy brought it, answered the servant, but he would not wait. Run after him's instant, cried she, and be sure you bring him back. Mon Dieu! Que l'aventure! Que ferai-je? What's the matter? What's the matter? said the captain. Why, nothing, nothing's the matter. Oh, mon Dieu! And she rose and walked about the rum. Why, what, has Montsier sent to you? continued the captain. Is that their letter from him? No, it isn't. Besides, if it is, it's nothing to you. No, then I'm sure it is. Pray now, madam, don't be so close. Come, tell us all about it. What does he say? How did he relish the horse-pond? Which did he find best? Sousing single or double? For George was plaguey unlucky he was not with him. It's no such a thing so. Cryed she very angrily. And if you also fond of a horse-pond, I wish you'd put yourself into one, and not be always thinking about other people's being served so. The men then came in to acquaint her, that they could not overtake the boy. She scolded violently, and was in such perturbation, that Lady Howard interfered, and begged to know the cause of her uneasiness, and whether she could assist her. Madame Duvall cast her eyes upon the captain and suclement, and said she should be glad to speak to her ladyship without so many witnesses. Well, then, Miss Anville, said the captain, turning to me, do you and Molly go into another room, and stay there till Mrs. Duvall has opened her mind to us? So you may sink, sir, cried she, but whose full zen? No, no, you needn't trouble yourself to make a nanny of me nizer, for I'm not so easily taken in, I'll assure you." Lady Howard then invited her into the dressing-room, and I was desired to attend her. As soon as we had shut the door. Oh, my lady! cried Madame Duvall. Here's the most cruelest thing in the world, as that burns. But that captain is such a beast, I can't sing nothing before him. But it's all true, for Monsieur Duvall is tucked up. Lady Howard begged her to be comforted, saying that, as Monsieur Duvall was certainly innocent, there could be no doubt of his ability to clear himself. To be sure, my lady, answered she, I know he is innocent, and to be sure they'll never be so wicked as to hang him for nothing. Certainly not! replied Lady Howard. You have no reason to be uneasy. This is not a country where punishment is inflicted without proof. Very true, my lady, but the worst is this. I cannot bear that that fellow's captain should know about it, for if he does, I shan't never hear the last of it. No more won't poor Monsieur Duvall. Well, well! said Lady Howard. Show me the letter, and I will endeavour to advise you. The letter was then produced. It was signed by the clerk of the country justice, who acquainted her that a prisoner, then upon trial for suspicion of treasonable practices against the government, was just upon the point of being committed a jail, but having declared that he was known to her, this clerk had been prevailed upon to write, in order to inquire if she really could speak to the character and family of a Frenchman who called himself Pierre Duvall. When I heard the letter, I was quite amazed at its success. It is so improbable that it seemed that a foreigner should be taken before a country justice of peace, for a crime of so dangerous a nature, that I cannot imagine how Madame Duvall could be alarmed even for a moment. But with all her violence of temper, I see that she is easily frightened, and in fact more cowardly than many who have not half a spirit. And so little does she reflect upon circumstances, or probability, that she is continually the duper for her own—I ought not to say ignorance—but yet I can think of no other word. I believe that Lady Howard, from the beginning of the transaction, suspected some contrivance of the captain, and this letter I am sure must confirm her suspicion. However, though she is not at all pleased with his frolic, yet she would not hazard the consequence of discovering his designs. Her looks, her manner and her character made me draw this conclusion from her apparent perplexity, for not a word did she say that implied any doubt of the authenticity of the letter. Indeed, there seems to be a sort of tacit agreement between her and the captain, that she should not appear to be acquainted with his schemes, by which means she at once avoids quarrels and supports her dignity. While she was considering what to propose, Madame Duvall begged to have the use of her ladyship's chariot, that she might go immediately to the assistance of her friend. Lady Howard politely assured her that it should be extremely at her service, and then Madame Duvall besought her not to own to the captain what had happened, protesting that she could not endure he should know poor Monsieur Dubois had met with so unfortunate an accident. Lady Howard could not help smiling, though she readily promised not to inform the captain of the affair. As to me, she desired my attendance, which I was by no means rejoiced at, as I was certain that she was going upon a fruitless errand. I was then commissioned to order the chariot. At the foot of the stairs I met the captain, who was most impatiently awaiting the result of the conference. In an instant we were joined by Sir Clement. A thousand inquiries were then made concerning Madame Duvall's opinion of the letter, and her intentions upon it. And when I would have left them, Sir Clement, pretending equal eagerness with the captain, caught my hands and repeatedly detained me to ask some frivolous question to the answer of which he must be totally indifferent. At length, however, I broke from them. They retired into the parlour, and I executed my commission. The carriage was soon ready, and Madame Duvall, having begged Lady Howard to say she was not well, stole softly downstairs, desiring me to follow her. The chariot was ordered at the garden door, and when we were seated she told the man, according to the clerk's directions, to drive to Mr. Justice Tyrell's, asking at the same time how many miles off he lived. I expected he would have answered that he knew of no such person, but to my great surprise he said, Why, Squire Tyrell lives about nine miles beyond the park. Drive fast, then, cried she, and you shan't be no worse for it. During our ride, which was extremely tedious, she lamented herself with a thousand fears for Monsieur Duvall's safety, and peaked herself very much upon having escaped unseen by the captain, not only that she avoided his triumph, but because she knew him to be so much Monsieur Duvall's enemy, that she was sure he would prejudice the justice against him, and endeavor to take away his life. For my part, I was quite ashamed of being engaged and so ridiculous in affair, and could only think of the absurd appearance we should make upon our arrival at Mr. Tyrell's. When we had been out near two hours, and expected every moment to stop at the place of our destinations, I observed that Lady Howard's servant, who attended us on horseback, rode on forward till he was out of sight, and soon after returning came up to the chariot window, and, delivering a note to Madame Duvall, said he had met a boy who was just coming with it to Howard Grove from the clark of Mr. Tyrell. While she was reading it, he rode round to the other window, and making a sign for secrecy, put into my hand a slip of paper, on which was written, Whatever happens, be not alarmed, for you are safe, though you endanger all mankind. I readily imagined that soclement must be the author of this note, which prepared me to expect some disagreeable adventure. But I had no time to ponder upon it, for Madame Duvall had no seen or read her own letter, then in an angry tone of voice she exclaimed, Why now, what the thing is this? We've here come all the way for nothing! She gave me the note, which informed her that she need not trouble herself to go to Mr. Tyrell's, as the prisoner had had the address to escape. I congratulated her upon this fortunate incident, but she was so much concerned at having rode so far in vain, that she seemed to be less pleased than provoked. However, she ordered the man to make what hasty could home, as she hoped at least to return before the captain should suspect what had passed. The carriage turned about, and we journeyed so quietly for near an hour, that I began to flatter myself we should be suffered to proceed to Howard Grove without any molestation, when suddenly the footman called out, John, are we going right? Why, I ain't sure, said the coachman, but I'm afraid we turned wrong. What do you mean by that, sirre? said Madame Duvall. Why, if you lose your way, we shall all be in the dark. I think we should turn to the left, said the footman. To the left, answered the other. No, no, I'm partly sure we should turn to the right. You had better make some inquiry, said I. Ma foie, cried Madame Duvall, we're in a fine old year, they niser of them know no more than they post. However, I'll tell my lady, as sure as you're born, you'd better find the way. Let's try this lane, said the footman. No, said the coachman, that's the road to Canterbury, we'd best go straight on. Why, that's the direct London road, returned to the footman, and that will lead us twenty miles about. Bardee, cried Madame Duvall, why they won't go one way nor the other, and now we'll come all this jaunt for nothing, I suppose we shan't get home to-night. Let's go back to the public house, said the footman, and ask for a guide. No, no, said the other. If we stay here for a few minutes, somebody or other will pass by, and the horses are almost knocked up already. Will I protest, cried Madame Duvall, I had to give a guinea to see them sots both or swept, as sure as I'm alive they're drunk, ten to one but they'll overturn us next. After much debating, they at length agreed to go on till we came to some inn, or met with the passenger who could direct us. We soon arrived at a farmhouse, 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 direction. But, Attity, it seems as if there are some thieves hereabouts, and so the best way will be for you to leave your watchers and your purses with the farmer, whom I know very well, and who is an honest man and a tenant of my ladies. Thieves, cried Madame Duvall, looking aghast. The Lord helped us, but I've no doubt but we shall all be murdered. The farmer came up to us, and we gave him all we were worth, and the servants followed our example. We then proceeded, and Madame Duvall's anger so entirely subsided, that in the mildest manner imaginable she entreated them to make haste, and promised to tell their lady how diligent and obliging they had been. She perpetually stopped them to ask if they apprehended any danger, and was at length so much overpowered by her fears that she made the footman fasten his horse to the back of the carriage, and then come and seat himself within it. My endeavours to encourage her were fruitless. She sat in the middle, held the man by the arm, and protested that if he did but save her life she would make his fortune. Her uneasiness gave me much concern, and it was with the utmost difficulty I forbore to acquaint her that she was imposed upon. But the mutual fear of the captain's resentment 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 restraining his laughter, and I observed that he was frequently obliged to make most horrid grimaces from pretended fear, in order to conceal his risability. Very soon after. The robbers are coming," cried the coachman. The footman opened the door and jumped out of the chariot. Madame Duvall gave a loud scream. I could no longer preserve my silence. For heaven's sake, my dear madame," cried I, "'don't be alarmed, you're in no danger. You are quite safe. There is nothing but—' Here the chariot was stopped by two men in masks, who at each side put in their hands as if for our purses. Madame Duvall sunk to the bottom of the chariot and implored their mercy. I shrieked involuntarily, although prepared for the attack. One of them held me fast, while the other tore poor Madame Duvall out of the carriage, in spite of her cries, threats, and resistance. I was really frightened, and trembled exceedingly. "'My angel,' cried the man who held me, "'you cannot surely be alarmed. Do you not know me? I shall hold myself in eternal abhorrence, if I have really terrified you.' "'Indeed, Sir Clement, you have,' cried I. "'But for heaven's sake, where is Madame Duvall? Why is she forced away?' "'She is perfectly safe. The captain has her in charge. But suffer me now, my adored Miss Anvil, to take the only opportunity that has allowed me to speak upon another a much dearer, much sweeter subject.' And then he hastily came into the carriage, and seated himself next to me. I would fain have disengaged myself from him, but he would not let me. "'Deny me not most charming of women,' cried he. "'Deny me not this only moment that has lent me to pour forth my soul into your gentle airs, to tell you how much I suffer from your absence, how much I dread your displeasure, and how cruelly I am affected by your coldness.' "'Oh, Sir, this is no time for such language. Pray leave me. Pray go to the relief of Madame Duvall. I cannot bear that she should be treated with such indignity.' "'And will you? Can you, command my absence? When may I speak to you, if not now? Does the captain suffer me to breathe a moment out of his sight? And are not a thousand impertinent people for ever at your elbow?' "'Indeed, Sir Clement, you must change your style, or I will not hear you. The impertinent people, you mean, are among my best friends, and you would not, if you really wished me well, speak of them so disrespectfully.' "'Wish you well?' Hermes Anvil point, but out to me how, in what manner, I may convince you of the fervour of my passion. Tell me but what services you will accept from me, and you shall find my life, my fortune, my whole soul at your devotion. "'I want nothing, Sir, that you can offer. I beg you not to talk to me so—so strangely. Pray leave me, and pray assure yourself you cannot take any method so successless to show any regard for me, as entering into scheme so frightful to Madame Duvall, and so disagreeable to myself. The scheme was the captain's, I even opposed it. Though I own, I could not refuse myself the so long wished-for happiness of speaking to you once more, without so many of your friends to watch me, and I flattered myself that the note I charged the footman to give you would have prevented the alarm you have received. Well, sir, you have now, I hope, said enough, and if you will not go yourself to see for Madame Duvall, at least suffer me to inquire what has become of her. And when may I speak to you again? No matter when, I don't know, perhaps—perhaps what, my angel? Perhaps never, sir, if you torment me thus. Never! Oh, Miss Anvil, how cruel! How piercing to my soul is that icy word! Indeed, I cannot endure such displeasure. Then, sir, you must not provoke it. Pray, leave me directly. I will, Madame, but let me at least make a merit of my obedience. Allow me to hope that you will in future be less averse to trusting yourself for a few moments alone with me. I was surprised at the freedom of this request, but while I hesitated how to answer it, the other mask came up to the chariot door, and in a voice almost stifled with laughter said, I've done for her, the old buck is safe, but we must shear off directly or we shall be all ground. So Clement instantly left me, mounted his horse, and rode off. The captain, having given some directions to the servants, followed him. I was both uneasy and impatient to know the fate of Madame Duvall, and immediately got out of the chariot to seek her. I desired the footman to show me which way she was gone. He pointed with his finger by way of answer, and I saw that he dared not trust his voice to make any other. I walked on at a very quick pace, and soon to my great consternation perceived the poor lady seated upright in a ditch. I flew to her with unfeigned concern at her situation. She was sobbing, nay, almost roaring, and in the utmost agony of rage and terror. As soon as she saw me she redoubled her cries, but her voice was so broken I could not understand a word she said. I was so much shocked that it was with difficulty I forebore exclaiming against the cruelty of the captain, for thus wantonly ill-treating her, and I could not forgive myself for having passively suffered the deception. I used my utmost endeavours to comfort her, assuring her of our present safety, and begging her to rise and return to the chariot. Almost bursting with passion she pointed to her feet, and with frightful violence she actually tore the ground with her hands. I then saw that her feet were tied together with a strong rope, which was fastened to the upper branch of a tree, even with a hedge which ran along the ditch where she sat. I endeavoured to untie the knot, but soon found it was infinitely beyond my strength. I was therefore obliged to apply to the footman, but being very unwilling to add to his mirth by the sight of Madame Duvall's situation, I desired him to lend me a knife. I returned with it and cut the rope. Her feet were soon disentangled, and then, though with great difficulty, I assisted her to rise. But what was my astonishment? When, the moment she was up, she hit me a violent slap on the face. I retreated from her with precipitation and dread, and she then loaded me with reproaches, which, though almost unintelligible, convinced me that she imagined I had voluntarily deserted her, but she seemed not to have the slightest suspicion that she had not been attacked by real robbers. I was so much surprised and confounded at the blow, that for some time I suffered her to rave without making any answer. But her extreme agitation and real suffering soon dispelled my anger, which all turned into compassion. I then told her that I had been forcibly detained from following her, and assured her of my real sorrow of her real usage. She began to be somewhat appeased, and I again entreated her to return to the carriage, and only leave to order that it should draw up to the place where we stood. She made no answer, till I told her that the longer we remained still, the greater would be the danger of our right home. Struck with this hint, she suddenly and with hasty steps moved forward. Her dress was in such disorder, that I was quite sorry to have her figure exposed to the servants, who all of them, in imitation of her master, hold her in derision. However, the disgrace was unavoidable. The ditch happily was almost quite dry, or she must have suffered still more seriously. Yet so forlorn, so miserable a figure I never before saw her. Her headdress had fallen off, her linen was torn, her negligee had not a pin left in it, her petticoat she was obliged to hold on, and her shoes were perpetually slipping off. She was covered with dirt, weeds, and filth, and her face was really horrible. For the permatum and powder from her head and the dust from the road were quite pasted on her skin by her tears, which with her rouge made so frightful a mixture, that she hardly looked human. The servants were ready to die with the laugh to the moment they saw her, but not all my remonstrances could prevail upon her to get into the carriage, till she had most vehemently reproached them both for not rescuing her. The footman, fixing his eyes on the ground, as if fearful of again trusting himself to look at her, protested that the robbers had vowed they would shoot him if he moved an inch, and that one of them had stayed to watch the chariot, while the other carried her off, adding that the reason of their behaving so barbarously was to revenge on having secured our purses. Notwithstanding her anger, she gave immediate credit to what he said, and really imagined that her want of money had irritated the pretend robbers to treat her with such cruelty. I determined, therefore, to be carefully upon my guard not to betray the imposition, which could now answer no other purpose than occasioning an irreparable breach between her and the captain. Just as we were seated in the chariot, she discovered the loss which her head had sustained, and called out, "'My God, what has become of my hair? Why, the villain has stole all my curls!' She then ordered the man to run and see if he could find any of them in the ditch. He went, and, presently returning, produced a great quantity of hair in such nasty condition that I was amazed she would take it, and the man, as he delivered it to her, found it impossible to keep his countenance, which she no sooner observed than all her stormy passions were again raised. She flung the battered curls in his face, saying, "'Sira, what do you grin for? I wish you had been served so yourself, and you wouldn't have found it no such joke. You are the impudence fellow I ever see, and if I find you dare grin at me any more, I shall make no ceremony of boxing your ears.'" Satisfied with the threat, the man hastily retired, and we drove on. Her anger now subsiding into grief, she began most sorrowfully to lament her case. "'I believe,' she cried. Never nobody was so unlucky as I am. And so here, because I hadn't had misfortunes enough already, that puppy has made me lose my curls. Why, I can't see nobody without them. Only look at me. I was never so bad off in my life before. Pardee! If I'd known as much, I'd have brought two or three sets with me. But I'd never have thought of such a thing as this." Finding her now somewhat pacified, I ventured to ask in account of her adventure what I would endeavour to write in her own words. Why, child, all this misfortune comes of that puppy's making us leave our money behind us. For as soon as the robbers see, I did put nothing in his hands. He lugged me out of the chariot by main force, and I verily thought he'd have murdered me. He was as strong as a lion. I was no more in his hands than a child. But I believed never nobody was so abused before. For he dragged me down the road, pulling and awling me all the way, as if I'd no more feeling than an oars. I'm sure I wish I could see that man cut up and quartered alive. However, he'll still come to the gallows. That's the one good thing. So soon as we'd got out of sight of the chariot, though he didn't have been afraid, for if he'd beat me to a mummy, those cowardly fellows wouldn't have said nothing to it. So when I got there, what does he do? But all of a sudden he takes me by the shoulders and gives me such a shake. Mon Dieu, I shall never forget it, if I live to be an hundred. I'm sure I dare say I'm out of joint all over. And though I made as much noise as I ever could, he took no more notice of it than nothing at all. There he stood, shaking me in that manner, as if he were doing it for a wager. I'm determined if it costs me all my fortune I'll see that villain hanged. He shall be found out, if there's air at justice in England. So when he had shook me till he was tired and I felt all over like a jelly without saying never a word he takes and pops me into the ditch, I'm sure I thought he'd have murdered me as much as ever I thought anything in my life, for he kept bumping me about as if he thought nothing too bad for me. However, I'm resolved I'll never leave my purse behind me again the longest day I have to live. So when he couldn't stand over me no longer, he holds out his irons again for my money, but he was as cunning as he could be, for he wouldn't speak a word because I shouldn't swear to his voice. However, that chance save him, for I'll swear to him any 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 just as if he had but that moment begun. And after that he got me close by a tree and out of his pocket he pulls a great cord. I'm sure I'll see him again as he pulls a great cord. As I wonder I did not swoon away for as sure as you're alive he was going to hang me by that tree. I screamed like anything mad and told him if he would but spare my life I'd never prosecute him nor tell anybody what he'd done to me. So he stood some time quite in a brown study thinking what he should do. And so after that he forced me to sit down in the ditch and tied my feet together just as you see them and then as if he had not done enough he twitched off my cap and without saying nothing caught on his arse and left me in that condition thinking I suppose that I might lie there and perish. Though this narrative almost compelled me to laugh yet I was really irritated with the captain for carrying his love of tormenting sport he calls it to such barbarous and unjustifiable extremes I consoled and soothed her as well as I was able and told her that since Monsieur Dubois had escaped I hoped when she recovered from her fright all would end well. Fright a child repeated she Why that's not half I promise you I wish it was but here I'm bruised from top to toe and it's well if ever I have the right use of my limbs again However I'm glad the villain got nothing but his trouble for his pains but here the worst is to come but I can't go out because I've got no girls and so he'll be escaped before I can get to the justice to stop him I'm resolved I'll tell Lady Howard how her man served me for if he hadn't made me fling him away I daresay I would have pinned them up well enough for the country Perhaps Lady Howard may be able to lend you a cap that you will wear without them Lady Howard indeed why do you think I'd wear one of her dowdies No I'll promise you I know such disguise meant it's the unluckiest thing in the world that I did not make the man pick up the girls again but he put me in such a pashon I could not think of nothing I know I can't get none at Howard Grove for love nor money for of all the stupid places ever I see that Howard Grove is the worst there's never no getting nothing one wants This sort of conversation lasted till we arrived at our journey's end and then a new distress occurred Madame Duvall was eager to speak to Lady Howard in Mrs. Mervyn and to relate to Miss Fortune's but she could not endure that Sir Clement or the captain should see her in such disorder so she said they were so ill-natured that instead of pitying her they would only make a gesture for disasters she therefore sent me first into the house to wait for an opportunity of there being out of the way that she might steal upstairs and observed In this I succeeded as the gentleman thought it most prudent not to seem watching for her though they both contrived to divert themselves with peeping at her as she passed She went immediately to bed where she had her supper Lady Howard and Mrs. Mervyn both of them very kindly sat with her had listened to her tale with compassionate attention while Miss Mervyn and I retired to our own room where I was very glad to end the troubles of the day in comfortable conversation The captain's raptures during supper at the success of his plan were boundless I spoke afterwards to Mrs. Mervyn with the openness which her kindness encourages and begged her to remonstrate with him upon the cruelty of tormenting Madame do all so causously She promised to take the first opportunity of starting up the subject but said that he was at present so much elated that he would not listen to her with any patience However, should he make any new efforts to molest her, I can by no means consent to be passive Had I imagined he would have been so violent I would have risked his anger in her defence much sooner She had kept to bed all day and declared she is almost bruised to death And dear my dear sir what a long letter I have written like it almost fancy I sent it to you from London Evelina Would not, I believe, rest till he had tormented Madame do all into a fever He seems to have no delight but in terrifying or provoking her and all his thoughts apparently turn upon inventing such methods as may do it most effectually She had her breakfast again in bed yesterday morning but during ours the captain with a very significant look at suclement gave us to understand that he thought she had now rested long enough to remain His meaning was obvious and therefore I resolved to endeavour immediately to put a stop to his intended exploits When breakfast was over I followed Mrs. Mervyn out of the parlour and begged her to lose no time in pleading the cause of Madame do all with the captain My love," answered she I have already expostulated with him but all I can say is fruitless while his favourite suclement contrives to urge him on I can't speak to suclement," said I for I know he will desist if I request him Have a care, my dear," said she, smiling It is sometimes dangerous to make requests to men who are too desirous of receiving them Well then, my dear madam will you give me leave to speak myself to the captain? Willingly. Nay, I will accompany you to him. I thanked her and we went to seek him He was walking in the garden with suclement Mrs. Mervyn most obligingly made an opening for my purpose by saying Mr. Mervyn, I have brought a petitioner with me Why, what's the matter now? cried he I was fearful of making him angry and stammered very much when I told him I hoped he had new plan for alarming Madame do all New plan! cried he Why, you don't suppose the old one would do again, do you? Not but what it was a very good one I doubt she wouldn't bite Indeed, sir, said I She had already suffered 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 so much terrified A sullen gloominess instantly clouded his face and turning short for me he said I might as I pleased but that I should much sooner repent than repair my officiousness I was too much disconcerted at this rebuff to attempt making any answer and finding that soclement warmly espoused my cause I walked away and left them to discuss the point together Mrs. Mervyn, who never speaks to the captain when he is out of humour was glad to follow me and with her usual sweetness made a thousand apologies for her husband's ill manners When I left her I went to Madame do all who was just risen and employed in examining the clothes she had on the day of her ill usage He was a sight she cried come here child only look pardon thee so long as I've lived I never see so much before while my things are spoiled and what's worse my sack was as good as new here's the second negligee I've used in this manner I'm sure I was a fool to put it on in such a lonesome place as this however if I stay here these ten years I'll never put on another good gown that I'm resolved will you let the maid try if she can to clean it mum no she'll only make bad worse but look here now here's a cloak why it looks like a dishclout of all the unluckiness that ever I met this is the worst for do you know I bought it but the day before I left Barry besides into the bargain my cap's quite gone when the village twitched it I don't know but I never see no more of it from that time to this now you must know that this was the becomingest 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 seen Monsieur Dubois I'd no more have put it on the night I've flown for as to what one wears in such a stupid place as this it signifies no more than nothing at all she then told me that she had been thinking all night of her contrivance to hinder the captain from finding out her loss of curls which was having a large gauge handkerchief pinned over her head as a hood and saying she had the toothache truth added she I believe that captain is one of the worst men in the world he's always making a joke of me and as to his being a gentleman he has no more matters than a bear for he's always upon the grin when one's in distress and I declare I'd rather be done anything to than laugh that for to my mind it's one or other the disagreeablest thing in the world Mrs. Mervyn I found had been endeavouring to dissuade her from the design she had formed of having recourse to find out the supposed robbers for she dreads a discovery of the captain during Madame Duvall's stay at Howard Grove as could not fail being productive of infinite commotion she has therefore taken great pains to show the inutility of applying to justice unless she were more able to describe the offenders against whom she would appear and has assured her that as she neither heard their voices nor saw their faces she cannot possibly swear to their persons or obtain any redress I found Duvall in telling me this extremely lamented her hard fate that she was thus prevented from avenging her injuries which however she vowed she would not be persuaded to pocket tamely because, added she, if such villains as these are let to have their own way and nobody takes no notice of their impudence they'll make no more ado than nothing at all of tying people in ditches and such things as that. However, I shall consult with Mr. Duvall as soon as I can ferret out where I'm sure I have a right to his advice for it's all along of his gaping about the tower that I met with these misfortunes. Mr. Duvall said I will I am sure be very sorry when he hears what has happened and what good will that do now that won't unspear all my clothes I can tell him I ain't much obliged to him though it's no fault of his yet he didn't the less provoking her for that I'm sure if he had been there to have seen me served in that manner and put neck and heels into a ditch he'd have no more thought it was me than the Pope of Rome. I'll promise you whatever you may think of it I shan't have no rest night nor day till I find out that rogue I have no doubt madam but you will soon discover him Pardee! if I do I'll hang him as sure as fate but what's the oddest is that he should take such a special spite against me above all the rest it was as much for nothing as could be for I don't know what I had done so particular bad to be used in that manner I'm sure I hadn't given no offence as I know of for I never see his face all the time and as to screaming a little I think it's very odd if one mustn't do such a thing as that when one's put in fear of one's life during this conversation she endeavoured to adjust her headdress but could not at all please herself indeed had I not been present I should have thought it impossible for a woman at her time of life to be so very difficult in regard to dress what she may have in view I cannot imagine but the labour of the toilet seems the chief business of her life when I left her in my way downstairs I met Sir Clement who with great earnestness said he must not be denied the honour of a moment's conversation with me and then without waiting for an answer he led me to the garden at the door of which however I absolutely insisted upon stopping he seemed very serious and said in a grave tone of voice at length Miss Anvil I flatter myself I have hit upon an expedient that will oblige you and therefore though it is death to myself I will put it in practice I begged him to explain himself I saw your desire of saving Madame Duvall and scarce could I refrain giving the brutal captain my real opinion of his savage conduct but I am unwilling to quarrel with him lest I should be denied entrance into a house which you inhabit I have been endeavouring to prevail with him to give up his absurd new scheme but I find him impenetrable I have therefore determined to make a pretense for suddenly leaving this place dear as it is to me and containing all I most admire and adore and I will stay in town till the violence of this boobyish humour is abated he stopped but I was silent for I knew not what I ought to say he took my hand but he pressed to his lips saying and must I then Miss Anvil must I quit you sacrifice voluntarily my greatest felicity and yet not be honoured with one word one look of approbation I withdrew my hand and said with a half a laugh you know so well so Clement the value of the fave as you confer that it would be superfluous for me to point it out charming charming girl how does your wit your understanding rise upon me daily and must I can I part with you will no other method oh sir do you so soon repent the good office you had planned for Madame duval for Madame duval cruel creature and will you not even suffer me to place to your account the sacrifice I am about to make you must place it sir to what account do you please but I am too much in haste now to stay here any longer and then I would have left him but he held me and rather impatiently said if then I cannot be so happy as to oblige you Miss Anvil you must not be surprised should I seek myself if my scheme is not honoured with your approbation for which alone it was formed why should I to my own infinite dissatisfaction pursue it we were then for a few minutes silent I was really unwilling that he should give up a plan which would so effectually break into the captain's designs and at the same time save me the pain of disobliging him and I should instantly and thankfully have accepted his offered civility had not Mrs. Mervyn's caution made me fearful however when he pressed me to speak I said in an ironical voice I had thought sir that the very strong sense you have yourself of the favour you proposed to me would sufficiently have repaid you but as I was mistaken I must thank you myself and now making a low curtsy I hope sir you are satisfied loveliest of thy sex he began but I forced myself from him and ran upstairs soon after Miss Mervyn told me that Sir Clement had just received a letter which obliged him instantly to leave the grove and that he had actually ordered a shares I then acquainted her with the real state of the affair indeed I conceal nothing from her she is so gentle and sweet tempered that it gives me great pleasure to place an entire confidence in her at dinner I must own we all missed him for though the flightiness of his behaviour to me when we are by ourselves is very distressing yet in large companies and general conversation he is extremely entertaining and agreeable as to the captain he has been so much grinned at his departure that he has scarce spoken a word since he went but Madame Duvall who made her first public appearance since her accident was quite enraptured that she escaped seeing him the money which we left at the farmhouse has been returned to us what pains the captain must have taken to arrange and manage the adventures which he chose we should meet with yet he must certainly be discovered for Madame Duvall is already very much perplexed at having received a letter this morning from Monsieur Duvall in which he makes no mention of his imprisonment however she has so little suspicion that she imputes his silence upon the subject to his fears that the letter might be intercepted not one opportunity could I meet with whilst the Clement was here to inquire after his friend Lord Orville but I think it was strange he should never mention him unasked indeed I rather wonder that Mrs. Mervyn herself did not introduce the subject seemed particularly attentive to him and now once more all my thoughts involuntarily turn upon the letter I expect so soon from Paris this visit of the Clement has however somewhat diverted my fears and therefore I am very glad he made it at this time Adieu, my dear sir End of letter 34 For more information or to volunteer please visit LibriVox.org Letter 35 from Sir John Belmont to Lady Howard Paris, May 11 Madame I have this moment the honour of your Lady Ship's letter and I will not wait another before I return an answer It seldom happens that a man though extolled as a saint is really without blemish or that another, though reviled as a devil is really without humanity Perhaps the time is not very distant when I may have the honour to convince your Lady Ship of this truth in regard to Mr. Villars and myself As to the young lady who Mr. Villars so obligedly proposes presenting to me I wish her all the happiness to which by your Lady Ship's account she seems entitled and if she has a third part of the merit of her to whom you compare her I doubt not, but Mr. Villars would be more successful in every other application he may make for her advantage than he can ever be in any with which he may be pleased to favour me I have the honour to be Madame your Lady Ship's most humble and most obedient servant John Beaumont End of Letter 35 My dear sir, all is now over the letter so anxiously expected as it length arrived and my doom is fixed the various feelings which oppress me I have not language to describe nor need I you know my heart you have yourself formed it and its sensations upon this occasion you may but too readily imagine outcast as I am and rejected forever by him to whom I of right belong shall I now implore your continued protection no, no I will not offend your generous heart which open to distress has no wish but to relieve it with an application that would seem to imply a doubt I am more secure than ever of your kindness since you now know upon that as my sole dependence I endeavour to bear this stroke with composure and in such a manner as if I had already received your counsel and consolation yet at times my emotions are almost too much for me what a letter for a parent to write! must I not myself be deaf to the voice of nature if I can endure to be thus absolutely abandoned without regret I dare not even to you nor would I could I help it to myself, acknowledge all that I might think for indeed I have some time sentiments upon this rejection which my strongest sense of duty can scarcely correct yet suffer me to ask might not this answer have been softened was it not enough to disclaim me forever without treating me with contempt and wounding me with derision but while I am thus thinking of myself I forget how much more he is the object of sorrow than I am alas! what amends can he make himself for the anguish he is hoarding up for time to come my heart bleeds for him whenever this reflection occurs to me what is said of you my protector, my friend my benefactor I dare not trust myself to comment upon gracious heaven what a return for goodness so unparalleled I would feign endeavour to divert my thoughts from this subject 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 expectations for Madame Duvall has determined not to let it rest here she heard the letter in great wrath and protested she would not be so easily answered she regretted her facility in having been profiled upon to yield to the direction of this affair to those who knew not how to manage it and vowed she would herself undertake and conduct it in future it is in vain that I have pleaded against her resolution and besought her to forebear an attack where she has nothing to expect but resentment especially as there seems to be a hint that Lady Howard will one day be more openly dealt with she will not hear me she is furiously bent upon a project which is terrible to think of for she means to go herself to Paris take me with her and there face to face demand justice how to appease or to persuade her I know not but for the universe would I not be dragged in such a manner to an interview so awful with a parent I have never yet beheld Lady Howard and Mrs. Mervyn are both of them infinitely shocked at the present state of affairs and they seem to be even more kind to me than ever and my dear Mariah who is in the present state of affairs and my dear Mariah who is the friend of my heart uses her utmost efforts to console me and when she fails in her design with still greater kindness she sympathizes in my sorrow I very much rejoice however that Sir Clement Willoughby had left us before this letter arrived I am sure the general confusion of the house would otherwise have betrayed him the whole of a tale which I now more than ever wish to have buried in oblivion Lady Howard thinks I ought not to rise to Madame Duvall yet she acknowledges the impropriety of my accompanying her abroad on such an enterprise indeed I would rather die than force myself into his presence but so vehement as Madame Duvall that she would instantly have compelled me to attend her to town and her way to Paris had not Lady Howard so far exerted herself as to declare she could by no means consent to my quitting her house till she gave me up to you by whose permission I had entered it she was extremely angry at this denial and the captain, by his snares and railery so much increased her rage that she has positively declared should your next letter dispute her authority to guide me by her own pleasure she will without hesitation make a journey to Berryhill and teach you to know who she is should she put this threat in execution nothing could give me greater uneasiness for her violence and volubility would almost distract you unable as I am to act for myself or to judge what cause I ought to pursue how grateful do I feel myself that I have such a guide and director to counsel and instruct me as yourself dear my dearest sir heaven I trust will never let me live to be repulsed and derided by you to whom I may now sign myself holy your Evelina End of Letter 36 Letter 37 of Evelina this is a LibriVox recording a LibriVox recording a LibriVox recording all LibriVox recordings are in the public domain for more information or to volunteer please visit LibriVox.org Recording by Ed Mead Evelina by Fanny Burney Letter 37 from Mr. Velars to Evelina Berryhill May 21st Let not my Evelina be depressed by a stroke of fortune for which she is not responsible No breach of duty on your part has incurred the unkindness which has been shown you nor have you, by any act of imprudence provoked either censure or reproach Let me entreat you therefore my dearest child to support yourself with that courage which your innocence ought to inspire and let all the affliction you allow yourself be for him only who not having that support must one day be but too severely sensible how much he wants it The hint thrown out concerning myself is wholly unintelligible to me My heart, I dare own fully acquits me of vice but without blemish I have never ventured to pronounce myself However, it seems his intention to be hereafter more explicit and then should anything appear that has on my part contributed to those misfortunes we lament Let me at least say that the most partial of my friends cannot be so much astonished as I shall myself be at such a discovery The mention also of any future applications I may make is equally beyond my comprehension but I will not dwell upon a subject which almost compels from me reflections that cannot but be wounding to a heart so formed to feel tenderness as my avalanas There is an air of mystery throughout the letter, the explanation of which I will await in silence The scheme of Madame Duval is such as might be reasonably expected from a woman so little enured to disappointment and so totally incapable of considering the delicacy of your situation Your averseness to her plan gives me pleasure for it Why will she not make the journey she projects by herself She would not have even the wish of an opposition to encounter And then, once more might my child and myself be left to the quiet enjoyment of that peaceful happiness which she alone has interrupted As to her coming hither I could indeed dispense with such a visit But if she will not be satisfied with my refusal by letter to the task of giving it her in person My impatience for your return is increased by your account of Sir Clement Willoughby's visit to Howard Grove I am but little surprised at the perseverance of his assiduities to interest you in his favor But I am very much hurt that you should be exposed to addresses which by their privacy have an air that shocks me You cannot my love be too circumspect The slightest carelessness on your part will be taken advantage of by a man of his disposition It is not sufficient for you to be reserved His conduct even calls for your resentment And should he again as will doubtless be his endeavor contrive to solicit your favor in private let your disdain and displeasure be so marked as to constrain a change in his behavior Though indeed should his visit be repeated and remain at the Grove Lady Howard must pardon me if I shorten yours Adieu, my child You will always make my respects to the hospitable family to which we are so much obliged End of Letter 37 Letter 38 of Evelina This is a LibriVox recording All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain For more information or to volunteer please visit LibriVox.org Recording by Ed Mead Evelina by Fanny Burney Letter 38 from Mr. Velars to Lady Howard Barry Hill May 27 Dear Madam I believe your ladyship will not be surprised at hearing I have had a visit from Madame Duvall as I doubt not her having made known her intention before she left Howard Grove I would gladly have excused myself this meeting could I have avoided it decently but after so long a journey it was not possible to refuse her admittance She told me that she came to Barry Hill in consequence of a letter I had sent to her granddaughter in which I forbid her going to Paris Very roughly she then called me to account for the authority which I had assumed and had I been disposed to have argued with her she would very angrily have disputed the right by which I used it but I declined all debating I therefore listened very quietly till she had so much fatigued herself with talking that she was glad in her turn to be silent and then I begged to know the purport of her visit She answered that she came to make me relinquish the power I had usurped over her granddaughter and assured me she would not quit the place till she succeeded but I will not trouble your ladyship with the particulars of this disagreeable conversation nor should I but on account of the result have chosen so unpleasant a subject for your perusal however I will be as concise as I possibly can that the better occupations of your ladyship's time may be less impeded When she found me inexorable in refusing Evelinas attending her to Paris she peremptorily insisted that she should at least live with her in London till Sir John Belmont's return I remonstrated against this scheme with all the energy in my power but the contest was vain she lost her patience and I my time she declared that if I was resolute in opposing her she would instantly make a will in which she would leave her fortune to strangers though otherwise she intended her granddaughter for her sole eras To me I own this threat seemed of little consequence I have long accustomed myself to think that with a competency of which she is sure my child might be as happy as in the possession of millions but the insertitude of her future fate deters me from following implicitly the dictates of my present judgment the connection she may hear after form the style of life for which she may be destined and the future family to which she may be long are considerations which give but too much weight to the menaces of Madame Duvall in short madam after a discourse infinitely tedious I was obliged though very reluctantly to compromise with this ungovernable woman by consenting that Evelina would make one month with her I never met a concession with so bad a grace or so much regret the violence and vulgarity of this woman her total ignorance of propriety the family to which she is related and the company she is likely to keep are objections so forcible to her having the charge of this dear child that nothing less than my diffidence of the right I have of depriving her of so large a fortune to listen to her proposal indeed we parted at last equally discontented she at what I had refused I at what I had granted it now only remains for me to return your ladyship my humble acknowledgments for the kindness which you have so liberally shown to my ward and to beg you would have the goodness to part with her when Madame Duvall thinks proper to claim the promise which she has extorted from me I am dear madam et cetera Arthur Valars End of Letter 38 Letter 39 of Evelina this is a LibriVox recording all LibriVox recordings are in the public domain for more information or to volunteer please visit LibriVox.org Recording by Ed Mead Evelina by Fanny Burney Letter 39 from Mr. Valars to Evelina Barry Hill May 28 with the reluctance which occasions me inexpressible uneasiness I have been almost compelled to consent to my Evelina she quit the protection of the hospitable and respectable Lady Howard and accompany Madame Duvall to a city which I had hoped she would never again have entered but alas my dear child we are the slaves of custom the dupes of prejudice and dare not stem the torrent of an opposing world even though our judgments condemn our compliance however since the die is cast we must endeavor to make the best of it you will have the occasion in the course of the month you are to pass with Madame Duvall for all the circumspection and prudence you can call to your aid she will not I know propose anything to you which she thinks wrong herself but you must learn not only to judge but to act for yourself if any schemes are started any engagements made which your understanding represents to you as improper exert yourself resolutely in avoiding them and do not by to pass a facility risk the center of the world or your own future regret you cannot too assiduously attend to Madame Duvall herself but I would wish you to mix as little as possible with her associates who are not likely to be among those whose acquaintance would reflect credit upon you remember my dear Evelina nothing is so delicate as the reputation of a woman it is at once the most beautiful and most brittle of all human things adieu my beloved child I shall be ill at ease till this month is elapsed to the Reverend Mr. Villa's London June 6th once more my dearest sir I write to you from this great city yesterday morning with the truest concern I quitted the dear inhabitants of Howard Grove and most impatiently shall I count the days till I see them again Lady Howard and Mrs. Mervyn took leave of me with the most flattering kindness but indeed I knew not how to part with Mariah whose own apparent sorrow redoubled mine she made me promise to send her a letter every post and I shall write to her with the same freedom and almost the same confidence you allow me to make use of to yourself the captain was very civil to me but he wrangled with poor Madame DuVal to the last moment and taking me aside just before we got into the shares he said Harky Miss Anvil I have a favour for to ask of you which is this lady who finds herself when she sees it was all a trick and what the French lover says to it and all about it I answered that I would obey him though I was very little pleased with the commission which to me was highly improper but he will either treat me as an informer or make me a party in his frolic as soon as we drove away Madame DuVal with much satisfaction exclaimed Dieu merci we've got off at last I'm sure I never desire to see that place again it's a wonder I've got away alive for I believe I've had the worst luck ever was known from the time I set my foot upon the threshold I wish I'd never gone besides into the bargain it's the most dullest place in all Christendom there's never no diversions no nothing at all then she bewailed Monsieur DuVal concerning whose adventures she continued to make various conjectures during the rest of our journey when I asked her what part of London she should reside in she told me that Mr. Branton was to meet us at an inn and would conduct us to a lodging accordingly we proceeded to a house in Bishop's Gate Street and were led by a waiter into a room where we found Mr. Branton he received us very civilly but seemed rather surprised at seeing me saying why didn't think of your bringing Miss however she's very welcome I'll tell you how it was said Madame DuVal you must know I've a mind to take the girl to Paris that she may see something of the world and improve herself a little besides I've another reason that you and I will talk more about but do you know that meddling old person as I've told you of would not let her go however I'm resolved I'll be even with him for I shall take her on with me without saying never a word more to nobody I started at this intimation which very much surprised me but I'm very glad she has discovered her intention as I shall be carefully upon my guard not to venture from town with her Mr. Branton then hoped we had passed our time agreeably in the country oh Lord's cousin! cried she I've been the miserableest creature in the world I'm sure all the horses in London shan't drag me into the country again of one while why do you think I've been served only guess indeed cousin I can't pretend to do that why then I'll tell you why then I'll tell you do you know I've been robbed that is, the villain would have robbed me if only he could only I'd secured all my money why then cousin I think your loss can't have been very great oh Lord you don't know what you're saying you're talking in the unthinkingest manner in the world why it was all along of not having no money that I met with that Miss Fortune how's that cousin I don't see what great misfortune you can have met with if you'd secured all your money that's because you don't know nothing of the matter for there the villain came to the shares and because we hadn't got nothing to give him though he'd no more right to our money than the man in the moon yet do you know he fell into the greatest passion you ever see and abused me in such a manner and put me in a ditch and got a rope of purpose to hang me and I'm sure if that wasn't Miss Fortune enough why I don't know what is that is a hard case indeed cousin but why don't you go to Justice Fielding oh as to that I'm going to him directly but only first I want to see Monsieur Dubois for the oddest thing of all is that he has wrote to me and never said nothing of where he is nor what's become of him nor nothing else Monsieur Dubois why is it my house at this very time Monsieur Dubois at your house will I declare this is the surprisingest part of all however I assure you that he might have come for me as well as you considering 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 so I don't take it very kindly of him I promise you well but cousin tell me some of the particulars of this affair as to the particulars I'm sure they'd make your ass stand on end to hear them however the beginning of it all was to the fault of Monsieur Dubois but I assure you he might take care of himself in future since he don't so much as come to see if I'm dead or alive but there I went for him to a justice of peace and rode out all of the way and did everything in the world and was used worse than a dog and all for the sake of serving of him and now you see he don't so much well I was a fool for my pains however he may get somebody else to be treated so another time for if he's taken up every day in the week I'll never go after him no more this occasioned an explanation in the course of which Madame Dubois to her utter amazement heard that Monsieur Dubois had never left London during her absence nor did Mr. Branton believe that he had ever been to the tower or met with any kind of accident almost instantly the whole truth of the transaction seemed to rush upon her mind and her wrath was inconceivably violent she asked me a thousand questions in a breath but fortunately was too vehement to attend to my embarrassment which must otherwise be betrayed by knowledge of the deceit revenge was her first wish and she vowed she would go the next morning to justice-fielding and inquire what punishment she might lawfully inflict upon the captain for his assault I believe we were an hour at Bishop's Gate Street before poor Madame Dubois could allow anything to be mentioned but her own story at any length however Mr. Branton told her that Monsieur Dubois and all his own family were waiting for her at his house a hackney-coach was then called and we proceeded to Snow Hill Mr. Branton's house is small and inconvenient though his shop which takes in all the ground floor is large and commodious I believe I told you before that he was a silversmith we were conducted up two pairs of stairs for the dining-room Mr. Branton told us was let his two daughters their brother Monsieur Dubois and a young man were at tea they had waited some time for Madame Dubois but I found they had not any expectation that I should accompany her and the young ladies I believe were rather more surprised than pleased when I made my appearance for they seemed hurt that I should see their apartment indeed I would willingly have saved them that pain had it been in my power the first person who saw me was Monsieur Dubois ah mon Dieu! exclaimed he voilà mademoiselle goodness! cried young Branton if there isn't miss Lord! so there is! said Miss Polly well I'm sure I should never have dreamed of Misses coming nor I neither I'm sure cried Miss Branton or else I would not have been in this room to see her I'm quite ashamed about it only not thinking of seeing anybody but my aunt however Tom it's all your fault for you know very well I wanted to borrow Mr. Smith's room only was so grumpy you would not let me Lord! what signifies? said her brother I dare be sworn Miss has been up two pairs of stairs before now hadn't she miss? I beg that I might not give them the least disturbance and assure them that I had not any choice in regard to what room we sat in well said Miss Polly when you come next Miss will have Mr. Smith's room and it's a very pretty one and only up one pair of stairs and nicely furnished and everything to say the truth said Miss Branton I thought that my cousin would not upon any account have come to town in the summertime for it's not at all the fashion so to be sure thinks I she'll stay till September when the playhouse is open this was my reception which I believe you will not call a very cordial one Madame Duvall who after having severely reprimanded Monsieur Dubois for his negligence was just entering upon the story of Hermes Fortunes now wholly engaged the company Monsieur Dubois listened to her with a look of the utmost horror repeatedly lifting up his eyes and hands and exclaiming oh siele, quel barbeur the young ladies gave her the most earnest attention but their brother and the young man kept a broad grin upon their faces during the whole recital she was however too much engaged to observe them but when she mentioned having been tied in a ditch young Branton no longer able to contain himself burst into a loud laugh declaring that he'd never heard anything so funny in his life his laugh was heartily re-echoed by his friend the Miss Branton's could not resist the example and poor Madame Duvall to her extreme amazement was absolutely overpowered and stopped by the violence of their mirth for some minutes the rom seemed quite in an uproar the rage of Madame Duvall, the astonishment of Monsieur Dubois and the angry interrogatories of Mr. Branton on one side and the convulsive tittering of the sisters the loud laughs of the young men on the other occasioned such noise, passion and confusion that had anyone stopped an instant on the stairs he must have concluded himself in bedlam at length, however, the father brought them to order and half laughing, half frightened they made Madame Duvall some very awkward apologies but she would not be prevailed upon to continue her narrative till they had protested they were laughing at the captain and not at her appeased at this she resumed his story which by the help of stuffing handkerchiefs into their mouths the young people heard with tolerable decency everybody agreed that the ill usage the captain had given her was actionable and Mr. Branton said he was sure she might recover what damage is she pleased since she had been put in fear of her life she then with great delight declared that she would lose no time in satisfying her revenge and vowed she would not be contented with less than half his fortune for though, she said, I don't put no value upon the money because do you must see I had no want of it yet I don't wish for nothing so much to punish that fellow for I'm sure whatever's the cause of it eons me a great grudge and I know no more what it's for than you do but he's always been doing me one spite or another ever since I knew him soon after T. Miss Branton took an opportunity to tell me in a whisper that the young man I saw was a lover of his sisters that his name was Brown and that he was a haberdasher with many other particulars of his circumstances in family and then she declared her utter aversion to the thoughts of such a match but added that her sister had no manner of spirit or ambition though for her part she would ten times rather die an old maid than marry any person but a gentleman and for that matter, added she, I believe Polly herself don't care much for him only she's in such a hurry because I suppose she's a mind to be married before me however she's very welcome for I'm sure I don't care a pin's point whether I ever marry at all it's all one to me some time after this Miss Polly can try to tell her story she assured me with much tittering that her sister was in a great fright lest she should be married first so I make a believe that I will," continued she, for I dearly love to plague her a little though I declare I don't intend to have Mr. Brown in reality I'm sure I don't like him half well enough, do you, Miss? it is not possible for me to judge of his merits, said I, as I am entirely a stranger to him but what do you think of him, Miss? why really I—I don't know but do you think him handsome some people reckon him to have a pretty good person but I'm sure for my part I think he's monstrous ugly don't you, Miss? I am no judge but I think his person is very—very well very well? why pray, Miss? in a tone of vexation what fault can you find with it? oh, none at all I'm sure you must be very ill-natured if you could now there's Biddy, says she thinks nothing of him but I know it's all out of spite Miss, no, Miss, it makes her as mad as can be that I should have a lover before her but she's so proud that nobody will court her and I often tell her she'll die in old maid but the thing is, she's taken it into her head to have a liking for Mr. Smith as Lord was on the first floor but Lord, I'll never have her but he's quite a fine gentleman and besides, Mr. Brown heard him say one day that he'd never marry as long as he lived for he'd no opinion of matrimony and did you tell your sister this? oh, to be sure I told her directly but she did not mind me however, if she will be a fool, she must this extreme want of affection and good nature increased the distaste I already felt for these unamable sisters had to confidence so entirely unsolicited and unnecessary manifested equally their folly and their want of decency I was very glad when the time for our departing arrived Mr. Branton said our lodgings were in Holburn but we might be near his house and neighbourly he accompanied us to them himself our rooms are large and not inconvenient our landlords and hosier I am sure I have a thousand reasons to rejoice that I am so little known for my present situation is, in every respect, very unenviable and I would not for the world be seen by any acquaintance of Mrs. Mervyn this morning, Madame DuVall, attended by all the Brantons actually went to a justice in the neighbourhood to report the captain's ill usage of her I had a great difficulty in excusing myself from being of the party which would have given me very serious concern indeed I was extremely anxious though at home till I heard the result of the application for I dread to think of the uneasiness which such an affair would occasion the amable Mrs. Mervyn but fortunately Madame DuVall has received very little encouragement to proceed in her design for she has been informed that as she neither heard the voice nor the face of the person suspected she will find difficulty to cast upon him conjecture and will have but little probability of gaining her cause unless she can procure witnesses of the transaction Mr. Branton therefore, who has considered all the circumstances of the affair, is of the opinion the lawsuit will not only be expensive but tedious and hazardous and has advised against it Madame DuVall, though very unwillingly, has acquiesced in his decision but vows that as she is ever so affronted again she will be revenged even if she ruins herself I am extremely glad that this ridiculous adventure seems now likely to end without more serious consequences Adieu, my dearest sir my direction is at Mr. Dawkins, a hosier in High Holburn End of Letter 40 I have no words, my sweet friend express the thankfulness I feel for the unbounded kindness which you, your dear mother and the much honoured Lady Howard have shown me and still less can I find language to tell you with what reluctance I parted from such dear and generous friends whose goodness reflects at once so much honour on their own hearts and on her to whom it has been so liberally bestowed but I will not repeat what I have already written to the kindness of Mervyn I will remember your admonitions and confine to my own breast that gratitude with which you have filled it and teach my pen to dwell upon subjects less painful to my generous correspondent Oh, Mariah London now seems no longer the same place where I lately enjoyed so much happiness everything is new and strange to me even the town itself has not the same aspect my situation so altered my home so different my companions so changed but you well know my averseness to this journey indeed to me London now seems a desert that gay and busy appearance at so lately war is now succeeded by a look of gloom fatigue and lassitude the air seems stagnant the heat is intense the dust intolerable and the inhabitants illiterate and underbred at least such as the face of things in the part of town where I at present reside tell me my dear Mariah do you never retrace in your memory the time we passed here when together to mind recurs forever and yet I think I rather recollect a dream or some visionary fancy than a reality that I should ever have been known to Lord Orville that I should have spoken to have danced with him seems now a romantic illusion and that elegant politeness that flattering attention I read delicacy which so much distinguished him above all other men and which struck us with so much admiration I now retrace the remembrance of Ratharis belonging to an object of ideal perfection formed my own imagination than to a being of the same race and nature as those with whom I at present converse I have no news for you my dear Miss Mervyn and for all that I could venture to say of Madame DuVall I have already written to your sweet mother and as to adventures I have none to record situated as I now am I heartily hope I shall not meet with any my wish is to remain quiet and unnoticed adieu excuse the gravity of this letter and believe me your most sincerely affectionate and obliged Everliner Anvil End of Letter forty-one Letter forty-two of Everliner This is a LibriVox recording All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain For more information or to volunteer please visit LibriVox.org Recording by Elizabeth Klett Everliner by Fanny Burney Letter forty-two Everliner to the Reverend Mr. Villas Holburn, June 9th Yesterday morning we received an invitation to dine and spend the day at Mr. Branton's and Monsieur DuVall, who was also invited, called to conduct us to Snow Hill. Young Branton received us at the door and the first words he spoke were Do you know, sisters aren't dressed yet. Then, hurrying us into the house, he said to me Come, Miss, you shall go upstairs and catch them I dare say they're at the glass. He would have taken my hand but I declined this civility and begged to follow Madame DuVall. Mr. Branton then appeared and led the way himself. We went, as before, up two pairs of stairs but the moment the father opened the door the daughters both gave a loud scream. We all stopped and the Miss Branton's called out Lord Papa, what do you bring the company up here for? Why, Polly and I aren't after rest. More shame for you," answered he. Here's your aunt and cousin and Monsieur DuVall all waiting in their room to take them to. Who'd have thought of their coming so soon? cried she. I am sure for my part I thought Miss was used to nothing but quality hours. Why, I shan't be ready this half hour yet," said Miss Polly. Can't they stay in the shop till we're dressed? Mr. Branton was very angry and scolded them violently. However, we were obliged to descend and stools were procured for us in the shop where we found the brother, who was highly delighted, he said, that his sisters had been catched and he thought proper to entertain me with a long account of their tediousness and the many quarrels they all had together. When, at length, these ladies were equipped with their satisfaction they made their appearance. But before any conversation was suffered to pass between them and us they had a long and most disagreeable dialogue with their father to whose reprimands, though so justly incurred, they replied with utmost pertinence while their brother all the time laughed aloud. The moment they perceived this they were so much provoked that instead of making any apologies to Madame Duvall they next began to quarrel with him. Tom, what do you laugh for? I wonder what business you have always to be a laughing when papa scolds us. Then what business have you to be such a while getting on your clothes? You're never ready, you know well enough. Lord, sir, I wonder what's that to you. I wish you'd mind your own affairs and not trouble yourself about ours. How should a boy like you know anything? A boy, indeed. Not such a boy, neither. I'll warrant you'll be glad to be as young as when you come to be old maids. This sort of dialogue we were amused with till dinner was ready and we again mounted up two pairs of stairs. In our way Miss Polly told me that her sister had asked Mr. Smith for his room to dine in, but he had refused to lend it. The cause, she said, one day it happened to be a little greased. However, we shall have it to drink tea in, and then perhaps you may see him. And I assure you he's quite like one of the quality and dresses as fine and goes to balls and dances and everything quite in taste. And besides, Miss, he keeps a foot-boy of his own, too. The dinner was ill-served, ill-cooked, and ill-managed. The maid, who waited, had so often to go downstairs for something that was forgotten that the Brantons were perpetually obliged to rise from table themselves to get plates, knives, and forks, bread, or beer. Had they been without pretensions, all this would have seemed of no consequence. But they aimed at appearing to advantage, and even fancied they succeeded. However, the most disagreeable part of our fare was that the whole family continually disputed whose turn it was to rise, and whose to be allowed to sit still. When this meal was over, Madame Duvall, ever eager to discourse upon her travels, entered into an argument with Mr. Branton, and in broken English, Monsieur Dubois concerning the French nation, and Miss Polly, then addressing herself to me, said, Don't you think, Miss, it's very dull sitting upstairs here. We'd better go down to shop, and then we shall see the people go by. Lord Pole, said the brother, you're always wanting to be staring and gaping, and I'm sure you needn't be so fond of showing yourself, for you're ugly enough to frighten a horse. Ugly indeed! I wonder which is best, you or me. But I tell you what, Tom, you no need to give yourself such heirs, for if you do, I'll tell Miss of, you know what. Who cares if you do? You may tell what you will, I don't mind. Indeed! cried I, I do not desire to hear any secrets. Oh! but I'm resolved, I'll tell you, because Tom's so very spiteful. You must know, Miss, to the night. Pole! cried the brother, if you tell of that, Miss shall know all about your meeting young brown, you know when, so I'll be quits with you one way or another. Miss Polly coloured, and again proposed our going downstairs till Mr. Smith's room was ready for our reception. I so we will, said Miss Branton. I'll assure you, cousin, we have some very gentile people passed by our shop sometimes. Polly and I always go sit there when we've cleaned ourselves. Yes, Miss! cried the brother. They do nothing else all day long when father don't scold them. But the best fun is, when they've got all their dirty things on and all their hair about their ears, sometimes I send young brown upstairs to them, and then there's such a fuss. There they hide themselves and run away and squeal and squal like anything mad, and so then I puts the two cats into the room, and I gives them a good whipping, and so that sets them squalling too. So there's such a noise and such an uproar. Lord, you can't think, Miss, what fun it is! This occasioned a fresh quarrel with the sisters, at the end of which it was at length decided that we should go to the shop. In our way downstairs Miss Branton said aloud, I wonder when Mr. Smith's room will be ready. So do I, answered Polly, I'm sure we should not do any harm to it now. This hint had not the desired effect, for we were suffered to proceed very quietly. As we entered the shop, I observed a young man in deep mourning leaning against the wall, with his arms folded and his eyes fixed on the ground, apparently in profound and melancholy meditation. But the moment he perceived us, he started, and making a passing bow, very abruptly, retired. As I found he was permitted to go quite unnoticed, I could not forbear inquiring who he was. Lord! answered Miss Branton, he's nothing but a poor scotch poet. For my part, said Miss Polly, I believe he's just starved, for I don't find he has anything to live upon. Live upon? cried the brother. Well, he's a poet, you know, so he may live upon learning. I am good enough for him, too, said Miss Branton, 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, or they only come here for what they can get. I'm sure," said Miss Branton, I wonder, Papa, I'll be such a fool as to let him stay in the house, for I dare say he'll never pay for his lodging. Why, no more he would, if he could get another lodger. You know the bill has been put up this fortnight. Miss, if you should hear of a person that wants a room, I assure you it is a very good one, for all that's up three pairs of stairs. I answered that as I had no acquaintance in London, I had not any chance of assisting them, but both my compassion and my curiosity were excited for this poor young man, and I asked them some further particulars concerning him. They then acquainted me that they had only known him three months. When he first lodged with them, he agreed to board also, but had lately told them he would eat by himself, though they all believed he had hardly ever tasted a morsel of meat since he left their table. They said that he had always appeared very low-spirited, but for the last month he had been duller than ever, and all of a sudden he had put himself into mourning, though they knew not for whom, nor for what, but they supposed it was only for convenience, as no person had ever been to see or inquire for him since his residence amongst them, and they were sure he was very poor, as he had not paid for his lodging as the last three weeks. And finally they concluded he was a poet, or else half-crazy, because they had, at different times, found scraps of poetry in his rum. They then produced some unfinished verses, written on small pieces of paper, unconnected, and of a most melancholy cast. Among them was the fragment of an ode, which at my request they lent to me to copy, and as you may perhaps like to see it, I will write it now. O life! Thou lingering dream of grief, of pain, and every ill that nature can sustain, strange, mutable, and wild, now flattering with hope most fair, depressing now with fell despair. The nurse of guilt, the slave of pride, that like a wayward child, who to himself a foe, sees joy alone in what's denied, in what is granted, woe. O thou poor, feeble, fleeting power, by vice seduced, by folly wooed, by misery, shame, remorse pursued, and as thy toilsome steps proceed, seeming to youth the fairest flower, proving to age the rankest weed, a gilded but a bitter pill, of varied, great, and complicated ill. These lines are harsh, but they indicate an internal wretchedness, which I own affects me. Surely this young man must be involved in misfortune of no common nature, but I cannot imagine what can induce him to remain with this unfeeling family, where he is most unworthily despised for being poor, and most illiberally detested for being a scotchman. He may indeed have motives, which he cannot surmount, for submitting to such a situation. Whatever they are, I most heartily pity him, and care not but wish it were in my power to afford him some relief. During this conversation, Mr. Smith's foot-boy came to Miss Branton, and informed her that his master said she might have the room now when she liked it, for that he was presently going out. This very gentile message, though it perfectly satisfied the Miss Branton's, by no means added to my desire of being introduced to this gentleman, and upon their rising with intention to accept his offer, I begged they would excuse my attending them, and said I would sit with Madam Duvall till the tea was ready. I therefore once more went up two pair of stairs with young Branton, who insisted upon accompanying me, and there we remained till Mr. Smith's foot-boy summoned us to tea, when I followed Madam Duvall into the dining-room. The Miss Branton's were seated 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 show he was master of the department, most efficiently handed me to a great chair at the upper end of the room, without taking any notice of Madam Duvall, till I rose and offered her my own seat. Leaving the rest of the company to entertain themselves, he very abruptly began to address himself to me, in a style of gallantry equally new and disagreeable to me. It is true no man can possibly pay me greater compliments, or make more fine speeches than Sir Clement Willoughby, yet his language, though too flowery, is always that of a gentleman, and his address and manners are so very superior to those of the inhabitants of this house, that to make any comparison between him and Mr. Smith would be extremely unjust. This latter seems very desirous of appearing a man of gaiety in spirit, but his vivacity is so low-bred, and his whole behaviour so forward and disagreeable, that I should prefer the company of dullness itself, even as that goddess is described by Pope, to that of this sprightly young man. He made many apologies that he had not lent his room for our dinner, which he said he should certainly have done had he seen me first, and he assured me that when I came again he should be very glad to oblige me. I told him, and with sincerity, that every part of the house was equally indifferent to me. How am I, mum? The truth is, Miss Biddy and Polly take no care of anything, else I am sure they should be always welcomed to my room, for I am never so happy as in obliging the ladies. That's my character, mum. But really, the last time they had it, everything was made so greasy and so nasty, that upon my word to a man who wishes to have things a little genteel, it was quite cruel. Now as to you, mum! It's quite another thing, for I should not mind if everything I had was spoiled for the sake of having the pleasure to oblige you, and I assure you, mum, it makes me quite happy that I have a room good enough to receive you. This elegant speech was followed by many others, so much in the same style that to write them would be superfluous, and as he did not allow me a moment to speak to any other person, the rest of the evening was consumed in a painful attention to this irksome young man, who seemed to intend appearing before me to the utmost advantage. Ah, dear my dear sir, I fear you'll be sick of reading about this family, yet I must write of them, or not of any, since I am mixed with no other. Happy I shall be when I quit them all, and again return to Berryhill. Evelina, in continuation. June 10th. This morning Mr. Smith called, on purpose, he said, to offer me a ticket for the next Hampstead Assembly. I thanked him, but desired to be excused, accepting it. He would not, however, be denied nor answered, and in a manner both vehement and free, pressed and urged his offer till I was weary to death. But when he found me resolute, he seemed thunderstruck with amazement, and thought proper to desire I would tell him my reasons. Obvious as they must surely have been to any other person, they were such as I knew not her to repeat to him, and when he found I hesitated he said, Indeed, ma'am, you are too modest. I assure you this ticket is quite a true service, and I shall be very happy to dance with you, so pray, don't be so coy. Indeed, sir! returned I, you are mistaken. I never supposed you would offer a ticket without wishing it should be accepted, but it would answer no purpose to mention the reasons which make me decline it, since they cannot possibly be removed. This speech seemed very much to mortify him, which I could not be concerned at, as I did not choose to be treated by him with so much freedom. When he was, at last, convinced that his application to me was ineffectual, he addressed himself to Madame Duvall, and begged she would interfere in his favour, offering at the same time to procure another ticket for herself. Muff was, sir, answered she angrily, you might as well have had the complacence to ask me before, for I assure you I don't approve of no such rudeness. However, you may keep your tickets to yourself, for we don't want none of them. This rebuke almost overset him. He made many apologies, and said that he should certainly have first applied to her, but that he had no notion the young lady would have refused him, and, on the contrary, had concluded that she would have assisted him to persuade Madame Duvall herself. This excuse appeased her, and he pleaded his cause so successfully that, to my great chagrin, he gained it, and Madame Duvall promised that she would go herself, and take me to the Hamster Assembly whenever he pleased. Mr. Smith, then approaching me with an air of triumph, said, Well, ma'am, now I think you can't possibly keep to your denial. I made no answer, and he soon took leave, though not till he had so wonderfully gained the favour of Madame Duvall, that she declared when he was gone, he was the prettiest young man she had seen since she came to England. As soon as I could find an opportunity, I ventured in the most humble manner, to entreat Madame Duvall would not insist upon my attending her to this ball, and represented to her, as well as I was able, the impropriety of my accepting any present from a man so entirely unknown to me. But she laughed at my scruples, called me a foolish, ignorant country girl, and said that she should make it her business to teach me something of the world. This ball is to be next week. I am sure it is not more improper fall than unpleasant to me, and I will use every possible endeavour to avoid it. Perhaps I may apply to Miss Branton for advice, as I believe she will be willing to assist me, from disliking equally with myself, that I should dance with Mr. Smith. June eleventh In about ten minutes' time, I saw, passing by the door, with a look perturbed and affrighted, the same young man I mentioned in my last letter. Not heeding as I suppose, how he went, in turning the corner of the stairs, which are narrow and winding, his foot slipped, and he fell, but almost instantly rising, I plainly perceived the end of a pistol, which started from his pocket by hitting against the stairs. I was inexpressibly shocked. All that I had heard of his misery occurring to my memory made me conclude that he was, at that very moment, meditating suicide. Struck with the dreadful idea, all my strength seemed to fail me. He moved on slowly, yet I soon lost sight of him. I sat motionless with terror, all power of action forsook me, and I grew almost stiff with horror. Till recollecting that it was yet possible to prevent the fatal deed, all my faculties seemed to return with the hope of saving him. My first thought was to fly to Mr. Branton, but I feared that an instant of time lost might forever be rude, and therefore, guided by the impulse of my apprehensions, as well as I was able, I followed him upstairs, stepping very softly, and obliged to support myself by the banisters. When I came within a few stairs of the landing-place I stopped, for I could then see into his room, as he had not yet shut the door. He had put the pistol upon a table, and had his hand in his pocket, whence, in a few moments, he took out another. He then emptied something upon the table from a small leather bag, after which, taking up both the pistols, one in each hand, he dropped hastily upon his knees, and called out, oh, God, forgive me! In a moment, strength and courage seemed lent to me as by inspiration, I started, and rushing precipitately into the room, just caught his arm, and then overcome by my own fears, I fell down at his side, breathless and senseless. My recovery, however, was, I believe, almost instantaneous, and then the sight of this unhappy man, regarding me with a look of unutterable astonishment, mixed with concern, presently restored to me my recollection. I arose, though with difficulty, he did the same. The pistols, as I soon saw, were both on the floor. Unwilling to leave the man indeed too weak to move, I lent one hand on the table, and then stood perfectly still. While he, his eyes cast wildly towards me, seemed too infinitely amazed to be capable of either speech or action. I believe we were some minutes in this extraordinary situation, but as my strength returned, I felt myself both ashamed and awkward, and moved towards the door. Pale and motionless he suffered me to pass, without changing his posture or uttering a syllable, and, indeed, he looked a bloodless image of despair. Pope. When I reached the door, I turned round. I looked fearfully at the pistols, and impelled by an emotion I could not repress. I hastily stepped back, with an intention of carrying them away. But their wretched owner, perceiving my design and recovering from his astonishment, darting suddenly down, seized them both himself. Wild with fright and scarce knowing what I did, I caught, almost involuntarily, hold of both his arms, and exclaimed, Oh, sir, have mercy on yourself! The guilty pistols fell from his hands, which, disengaging from me, he fervently clasped and cried, Sweet Heaven, is this thy angel? Encouraged by such gentleness, I again attempted to take the pistols, but with a look half frantic, he again prevented me, saying, What would you do? Awaken you, I cried, with the courage I now wonder at, to worthy a thought, and rescue you from perdition. I then seized the pistols. He said not a word. He made no effort to stop me. I glided quick by him, and tottered downstairs, ere he had recovered from the extremist amazement. The moment I reached again the room I had so fearfully left, I threw away the pistols, and flinging myself on the first chair gave free vent to the feelings I had most painfully stifled, in a violent burst of tears, which indeed proved a happy relief to me. In this situation I remained some time, but when at length I lifted up my head, the first object I saw was the poor man who had occasioned my terror, standing as if petrified at the door, and gazing at me with eyes of wild wonder. I started from the chair, but trembled so excessively that I almost instantly sunk into it again. He then, though without advancing, said in a faltering voice, Whoever, or whatever you are, relieve me I pray you from the suspense under which my soul labours, and tell me if indeed I do not dream. To this address, so singular and so solemn, I had not then the presence of mind to frame any answer, but as I presently perceived that his eyes turned from me to the pistols, and that he seemed to intend regaining them, I exerted all my strength in saying, Oh, for heaven's sake, for bear! I rose and took them myself. Do my sense deceive me? cried he. Do I live, and do you? As he spoke, he advanced towards me, and I, still guarding the pistols, retreated, saying, No, no, you must not, you must not have them. Why, for what purpose tell me do you withhold them? To give you time to think, to save you from eternal misery, and I hope to reserve you for mercy and forgiveness. Wonderful! cried he, with uplifted hands and eyes. Most wonderful! For some time he seemed wrapped in deep thought, till a sudden noise of tongues below announcing the approach of the Brantons made him start from his reverie. He sprung hastily forward, dropped on one knee, caught hold of my gown, which he pressed to his lips, and then, quick as lightning, he rose, and flew upstairs to his own rum. There was something in the whole of this extraordinary and shocking adventure really too affecting to be borne, and so entirely had I spent my spirits and exhausted my courage, that before the Brantons reached me I had sunk on the ground without sense or motion. I believe I must have been a very horrid sight to them on their entrance into the rum, for to all appearance I seemed to have suffered a violent death, either by my own rashness, or the cruelty of some murderer, as the pistols had fallen close by my side. How soon I recovered I know not, but probably I was more indebted to the loudness of their cries than to their assistance, for they all concluded that I was dead, and for some time did not make any effort to revive me. Scarcely could I recollect where, or indeed what I was, ere they poured upon me such a torrent of questions and inquiries, that I was almost stunned by their vociferation. However, as soon, and as well as I was able, I endeavored to satisfy their curiosity by recounting what had happened as clearly as was in my power. They all looked gasped at the recital, but not being well enough to enter into any discussions, I begged to have a chair called, and to return instantly home. Before I left them, I recommended, with great earnestness, a vigilant observance of their unhappy lodger, and that they would take care to keep from him, if possible, all means of self-destruction. Monsieur Dubois, who seemed extremely concerned at my indisposition, walked by the side of the chair, and saw me saved my own apartment. The rashness and the misery of this ill-fated young man engrossed all my thoughts, if indeed he is bent upon destroying himself, all efforts to save him will be fruitless. How much do I wish it were in my power to discover the nature of the malady which thus maddens him, and to offer or to procure alleviation to his sufferings? I am sure, my dearest sir, you will be much concerned for this poor man, and were you here, I doubt not, but you would find some method of awakening him from the error which blinds him, and of pouring the balm of peace and comfort into his afflicted soul.