 Book 6, Chapter 6 of Camilla. 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 Linda Velwest. Camilla or A Picture of Youth by Fanny Burney. Book 6, Chapter 6. The Accomplished Monkees. When Camilla descended she found Sir Sidley Clarendale and General Kinsale in attendance, and saw, from the parlor window, Miss Dennell sauntering before the house with the newly made acquaintance of the preceding evening. The Baronette who was to drive Mrs. Albury inquired if Camilla would not prefer also an open carriage. Mrs. Albury second in the motion. Miss Dennell then, running to her father, exclaimed, Pray, Papa, let's take this lady I've been talking with in the coach with us. She is the good, nature's creature I ever knew. Who is she? What's her name? Oh, I don't know that, Papa, but I'll go and ask her. Flying then back, Pray, ma'am, she cried, What's your name? Because Papa wants to know. Why, my dear, my name's Mitten, so you may think of me when you put on your gloves. Papa, her name's Mitten, cried Miss Dennell, scampering again to her father. Well, and who is she? Oh, la, I'm sure I can't tell, only she's a gentle woman. And how do you know that? She told me so herself. And where does she live? Oh, just by, Papa, at that house you see there. Oh, well, if she's a neighbour that's enough, I've no more to say. Oh, then I'll ask her, cried Miss Dennell, jumping, Dear, I'm so glad to have been so dull only Papa and I, as a result, when I have a house of my own, I'll never go alone anywhere with Papa. This being muttered, the invitation was made and accepted, and the parties set forward. The ride was perfectly pleasing to Camilla, now revived and cheerful. Sir Sedley was free from airs, Mrs. Albury drew them into conversation with one another, and none of them were glad when Mr. Dennell called, Stop, or you'll drive too far! Camilla, who, supposing she was going as usual to the pantiles, had got into the Fayaton without inquiry, and who, finding afterwards her mistake, concluded they were merely taking an airing, now observed she was advancing towards a crowd, and presently perceived a booth, and an immense sign hung out from it, exhibiting a man-monkey, or orangutan. Possessively fluttered she courageously and at once told Mrs. Albury she begged to be excused proceeding. Mrs. Albury, who had heard at the play the general objection of Mandelbeer, though she had not attended to her answer, conjectured her reason for retreating, and laughed, but said she would not oppose her. Camilla then begged to wait in Mr. Dennell's carriage that she might keep no one else from the show. Sir Sedley, saying it would be an excruciatingly vulgar sight, proposed they should all return, but she pleaded strongly against breaking up the party, though while she was handed out to go back to the coach, the Dennells and Mrs. Mitten had alighted, and it had driven off. The chagrin of Camilla was so palpable that Mrs. Albury herself agreed to resign the scheme, and Sir Sedley, who drew up to them, said he should rejoice in being delivered from it. But Miss Dennell, who was waiting without the booth for her aunt, was ready to cry at the thought of losing the sight, which Mrs. Mitten had assured her was extremely pretty, and after some discussion, Camilla was reduced to beg she might do no mischief and consent to make one. A more immediate distress now occurred to her. She heard Mr. Dennell call out to the man stationed at the entrance of the booth, watched to pay, and recollected she had no money left. What your honour pleases, was the answer, but gentle folks gives half a crown. I'm sure it's well worth it, said Mrs. Mitten, for it's one of the most curious things you ever saw. You can't give less, sir, and she passed nimbly by without paying at all, but added, I had a ticket the first day, and now I come every day for nothing if it don't rain, for one only need to pay at first. Mr. Dennell and his daughter followed, and Camilla was beginning a hesitating speech to Mrs. Albury, as that lady, not attending to her, said to Mr. Dennell, Well, frank me also, but take care what you pay, I'm not at all sure I shall ever return it. All I save goes to my ponies, and handed by the general she crossed the barrier, not hearing the voice of her young friend, which was timidly beseeching her to stop. Camilla was now in extreme confusion. She put her hand into her pocket, took it out, felt again, and again brought forth the hand empty. The major who was before her, and who watched her, begged leave to settle with the boothkeeper, but Camilla, to whom he grew daily more irksome, again preferred a short obligation to the baronet, and blushingly asked if he would once more be her banker. Sir Sedley, by no means suspecting the necessity that urged this condescension, was surprised and delighted, and almost without knowing it himself, became all that was attentive, obliging, and pleasing. Before they were seated, the young ensign, Mr. McDursey, issuing from a group of gentlemen, addressed himself to Camilla, though with an air that spoke him much discomposed and out of spirits. I hope you're all well, Miss Camilla Tyrold, he cried, and have left all your family well, particularly the loveliest of your sex, that angel of beauty, the divine Miss Lynne Mir. Accept the company present, said Mrs. Arlbury. Always accept the company present when you talk of beauty to women. I would not accept even the company absent, replied he with warmth, but was interrupted from proceeding by what the master of the booth called his consort of musics, in which not less than twenty monkeys contributed their part, one dreadfully scraping a bow across the strings of a vile kit, another beating a drum, another with a fife, a fourth with a bagpipe, and the sixteen remainder striking together tongs, shovels, and pokers by way of marrow bones and cleavers. Everybody stopped their ears, though no one could forbear laughing at their various contortions and horrible grimaces till the master of the booth to keep them, he said in tune, dealt about such fierce blows with a stick that they set up a general howling, which he called the vocal part of his consort, not more stunning to the ear than offensive to all humanity. The audience applauded by loud shouts, but Mrs. Arlbury disgusted, rose to quit the booth. Camilla eagerly started up to second the motion, but her eyes still more expeditiously turned from the door upon encountering those of Edgar, who, having met the empty coach of Mr. Dennell, had not been able to refrain from inquiring where its company had been deposited, nor upon hearing it was at the accomplished monkeys from hastening to the spot to satisfy himself if or not Camilla had been steady to her declaration. But he witnessed at once the propriety of his advice and its failure. The master of the booth could not endure to see the departure of the most brilliant part of his spectators and made and harangued, promising the company at large if they would submit to postponing the consort in order to oblige his friends the quality they should have it with the newest squalls in taste afterwards. The people laughed and clapped and Mrs. Arlbury sat down. In a few minutes the performers were ready for a new exhibition. They were dressed up as soldiers who headed by a corporal came forward to do their exercises. Mrs. Arlbury laughing told the general as he was upon duty he should himself take the command. The general, a pleasant yet cool and sensible man, did not laugh less. But the end sign, more warm-tempered and wrong-headed, seeing a feather in a monkey's cap of the same color by chance as his own, fired with hasty indignation and rising called out to the master of the booth. What do you mean by this, sir? Do you mean to put an affront upon our core? The man startled was going most humbly to protest his innocence of any such design. But the laugh raised against the end sign amongst the audience gave him more courage and he only simpered without speaking. What do you mean by grinning at me, sir? Said MacDursey. Do you want me to cane you? Cane me, cried the man enraged. By what rights? MacDursey easily put off all guard with stepping over the benches with his cane uplifted when his next neighbor, tightly holding him, said in a half whisper, If you'll take my advice, you'd a deal better provoke him to strike the first blow. MacDursey, far more irritated by this counsel than by the original offence, fiercely looked back, calling out, The there's blow, what do you mean by that, sir? No offence, sir, answered the person who was no other than the slow and solemn Mr. Dubster, but only to give you a hint for your own good, for if you struck first, being in his own house, as one may say, he may take the law of you. The law, repeated the fiery end sign, The law was made for polled trunes, a man of honor does not know what it means. If you talk at that rate, sir, said Dubster in a low voice, it may bring you into trouble. And who are you, sir, that take upon you the presumption to give me your opinion? Who am I, sir? I'm a gentleman, if you must need to know. A gentleman, who made you so? Who made me so? Why, leave it off business. What would you have made me so? You may tell me if you are any better if you come to that. MacDursey, of an ancient and respectable family, incensed past measure was turning back upon Mr. Dubster when the general, taking him gently by the hand, begged he would recollect himself. That's very true, sir, very true, general, cried he, profoundly bowing. What you say is very true, I have no right to put myself into a passion before my superior officer, unless he puts me into it himself, in which case, to his own fault. So I beg your pardon, general, with all my heart, and I'll go out of the booth without another half-syllable. But if ever I detect any of those monkeys mocking us and wearing our feathers, when you ain't by, shan't put up with it so mildly. I hope you'll excuse me, general. He then bowed to him again and begged pardon of all the ladies, but, in quitting the booth, contemptuously said to Mr. Dubster, as to you, you little dirty fellow, you ain't worth my notice. Little dirty fellow, repeated Mr. Dubster when he was gone, how come you to think of that, while I'm as clean as hands can make me? Come, sir, come, said Mrs. Mitten, reaching over to him and stroking his arm. Don't be angry, these things will happen sometimes in public companies, but gentlemen should be above minding them. He meant no harm, I daresay. Oh, as to that, ma'am, answered Mr. Dubster proudly, I don't much care if he did or not. It's no odds to me, only I don't know much what right he has to defame me. I wonder who he thinks he is, that he may break the peace for nothing. I can't say I'm much a friend to such behavior, treating people with so little ceremony. I protest, cried, sir, sadly, to Camilla, it is your favorite swing from the North Worker's Shumbley, wafted on some zephyr of hope he has pursued you to Tunbridge. I flatter myself, he has brought his last brand new cloth to claim your fair hand at the master of the ceremony's ball. Hush, hush, cried Camilla in a low voice, he will take you, literally, should he hear you? Mr. Dubster, now perceiving her, bowed low from the place where he stood and called out, How do you do, ma'am? I ask pardon for not speaking to you before, but I can't say as I see you. Camilla was forced to bow, though she made no answer, but he continued with his usual steadiness, while that was but a unked morning we was together so long, ma'am, in my new summer house. We was in fine jeopardy, that's the truth of it. Pray, how does the young gentleman do, as took away our ladder? What a delectable acquaintance, cried sir sadly, Would you have the cruelty to keep such a treasure to yourself? Present me, I supplicate. Oh, I know you well enough, sir, said Mr. Dubster, who overheard him. I see you at the hop, at the white-heart, and I believe you know me pretty well too, sir, if I may take account by your staring, not that I mind it, in the least. Come, come, don't be touchy, said Mrs. Mitten, can't you be good-natured and hold your tongue? What signifies taking things amiss? It only breeds ill words. That's very sensibly observed upon, said Mr. Dennell. I don't know when I've heard anything more sensibly said. Oh, as to that, I don't take it amiss in the least, cried Mr. Dubster, if the gentleman's a mind to stare, let him stare, only I should like to know what it's for. It's no better than child's play, as one may say, making one look foolish for nothing. The orangutan was now announced, and Mrs. Albury immediately left the booth, accompanied by her party, and speedily followed by Edgar. Neither of the carriages were in waiting, but they would not return to the booth, so, sadly, to whom standing was still rather inconvenient, begged a cast in the carriage of a friend who was accidentally passing by. MacDurcy, who joined them, said he had been considering what that fellow had proposed to him of taking the first blow, and found he could not put up with it, and, upon the appearance of Mr. Dubster, who, in quitting the booth, was preparing, with his usual leisurely solemnity, to approach Camilla, darted forward, and, seizing him by the collar, exclaimed, "'E-tact, sir, retract!' Mr. Dubster stared at first, without speech or opposition, but, being released by the major, whom the general begged to interfere, he angrily said, "'Pray, sir, what business have you to take hold of a body in such a manner as that?' "'It's an assault, sir, and so I can prove, and I'm glad of it. For now I can serve you, as I did another gentleman once before, that I smarted out of a good ten pound out of his pocket for a knock he gave me, for a mere nothing, just like this here, pulling one by the collar, nobody knows why.'" The major, endeavoring to quiet McDursey, advised him to despise so low a person. "'So I will, my dear friend,' he returned, "'as soon as ever I have given him the proper chastisement for his ignorance, but I must do that first. You won't take it ill, major!' "'I believe,' cried Mr. Dubster, holding up both his hands. The lock of this was never heard of. Here's a gentleman, as he calls himself, ready to take away my life with his own good will for nothing but giving him a little bit of advice. However, it's all one to me. The law is open to all, and if any one plays their tricks upon me, they shall pay for their fun. "'I'm none of your tame ones to put up with such a thing for nothing. I'm above that, I promise you.'" "'Don't talk, sir, don't talk,' cried McDursey. "'It's a thing I can't bear from a mean person to be talked to. I had a hundred thousand times rather stand to be shot at.' "'Not talk, sir.' "'I should be glad to know what right you has to hinder me,' provided I say nothing against the law. And as to being a mean person, it's more than you can prove, for I'm sure you don't know who I am nor nothing about me. I may be a lord for anything you know, though I don't pretend to say I am, but as to what people take me for that behaves so out of character, it's what I shan't trouble my head about. They may take me for a chimney sweeper, or they may take me for a duke, which they like. I shan't tell them whether I'm one or two other, or whether I'm neither. And as to not talking, I shall hold my tongue when I think proper. "'Ask my pardon this instant, fellow,' cried the ensign, whom the major, at the motion of the general, now caught by the arm and hurried from the spot. Mrs. Mitten, at the same moment pulling away Mr. Dubster, and notably expounding to him the advantages of patience and good humor. Mrs. Albury, who hurried both of this squabble and of waiting, took the arm of the general and said she would walk home. Miss Dennell, lovingly held by Mrs. Mitten, with whom her father also assorted, and by whom Mr. Dubster was drawn on. Camilla alone had no immediate companion, as the major was occupied by the ensign. Edgar saw her disengaged. He trembled. He wavered. He wished the major back. He wished him still more at a distance too remote ever to return. He thought he would instantly mount his horse and gallop towards Beach Park. But the horse was not ready, and Camilla was in sight, and in less than a minute. He found himself, scarce knowing how, at her side. Camilla felt a pleasure that bounded to her heart, though the late assertions of Mrs. Albury prepared her to expect him. He knew not, however, what to say. He felt mortified and disappointed, and when he had uttered something scarce intelligible about the weather, he walked on in silence. Camilla, whose present train of thoughts had no discordant tendency, broke through this strangeness herself and said, How frivolous I must appear to you, but indeed I was at the very door of the booth before I knew whether the party was going. You did not hope, at least, he cried, when you had entered it, deem me too rigid to austere that I thought the species, both of company and of entertainment, ill-calculated for a young lady? Richard, austere, replied she, I never thought you either, never, and if, once again, she stopped embarrassed, ashamed. If, once again, what? cried he in a tremulous voice. What would Miss Camilla say? Would she again? Is there yet? What would Miss Camilla say? Camilla felt confounded, both with ideas of what he meant to allude to and what construction he had put upon her half-finished sentence. Impatient, however, to clear that. If once more, she cried, you could prevail with yourself, now and then, from time to time, to give me an hint, an idea of what you think right. I will promise, if not a constant observance, at least a never-failing sense of your kindness. The revulsion in the heart, in the whole frame of Edgar, was almost too powerful for restraint. He panted for an immediate explanation of every past and every present difficulty and a final avowal that she was either self-destined to the major or that he had no rival to fear. But before he could make any answer, a sudden and violent shower broke up the conference and grouped the whole party under a large tree. This interruption, however, had no power upon their thoughts. Neither of them heard a word that was saying, each ruminated intently, though confusedly, upon what already was past. Yet where the wind precipitated the rain, Edgar stationed himself and held his hat to intercept its passage to Camilla, and as her eye involuntarily was caught by the shower that patterned upon his head and shoulders, she insensibly pressed nearer to the trunk of the tree to afford more shelter to him from its branches. The rest of the party partook not of this taciturnity. Mr. Dubster, staring Mrs. Mitten, full in the face, exclaimed, I think I ought to know you, ma'am, ask in your pardon. No matter for that, cried she, turning with quickness to Camilla, Lord Miss, I don't know your name, how your poor hat is all, I don't know, how as limp and as flimsy as if it had been in a wash tub. I just b'thought me, continued he, where it was we used to see one another and all the whole manner of it. I've got it as clear in my head as if it was, but yesterday, don't you remember? Can't you stand a little out? There," interrupted she, what signifies a man's old coat, don't you see how you let all the rain come upon this young lady, you should never think of yourself, but only of what you can do to be obliging. A very good rule that, a very good one indeed, said Mr. Dennell, I wish everybody would mind it. I'm as willing to mind it, I believe, said Mr. Dubster, as my neighbors, but as to being wet through for mere complacence, I don't think it fair to expect such a thing of nobody. Besides, this is not such an old coat, as you may think for. If you was to see what I wear at home, I promise you would not think so bad of it. I don't say it's my best, who'd be fool then to wear it every day. However, I believe it's pretty nice, and as good as that I had on the night, I saw you at Mrs. Pertles, when, you know, one of your patents, come, come, what's the man talking about? One person should not take all the conversation, go so, oh, dear miss, do tell me your name, I am so sorry for your hat, I can't but think of it. It looks as dingy, why, nah, you won't make me believe, said Mr. Dubster, you forgot how your patent broke and how I squeezed my finger under the iron, and how I'd like to have lost the use of it, there would have been a fine job, and how Mrs. Pertle, I'm sure the shower's over, cried Mrs. Mitten, and if we stay here, we shall have all the droppings of the leaves upon us. Poor Miss Thingamese had his spoilt already, there's no need to make it worse. And how Mrs. Pertle, he continued, was obliged to lend you a pair of shoes and stockings because you was wet through your feet, and how they would not fit you and kept tumbling off, and how, when somebody came to fetch you in their own coach, you made a say you was taken ill because you was so doved with mud and mire, you was ashamed to shoe yourself, and how, I can't think what you're talking of, said Mrs. Mitten, but come, let's you and I go a little way on to see if the rain's over. She then went some paces from the tree and said, What signifies running on so, Mr. Dubster, about things nobody knows anything of? It's tiring all the company to death. You should never talk about your own fingers and haphazards to gentile people. You should only talk about agreeable subjects as I do. See how they all like me? That gentleman brought me to the monkeys in his own coach. As to that, answered he gravely, I did not mean in the least to say anything disagreeable, only I thought it odd you should not seem to know me again, considering Mrs. Pirtle used, Why, you've no noose, Mr. Dubster. Mrs. Pirtle's a very good sort of woman and the best friend I have in the world, perhaps, at the bottom, but she ain't a sort of person to talk of before gentle folks. You should talk to great people about their own affairs and what you can do to please them and find out how you can serve them if you'd be treated gentilely by them as I am, why I go everywhere and see everything and it costs me nothing. A friend, a lady of great fashion, took me one day to the monkeys and paid for me and I've gone since, whenever I will, for nothing. Nobody treats me to nothing, answered he in a melancholy voice, whatever's the reason, except when I make friends with somebody that can let me in free sometimes and I get a peep now and then at what goes forward that way. But you are rich enough to pay for yourself now, Mr. Dubster. Good luck. If I had such a fortune as yours, I'd go all the world over and thanks to nobody. And how long would you be rich then, Mrs. Mitten? Who to give you your money again when you'd spent it? I got mine hard enough. I shan't fool it away in a hurry. I promise you. I can't say I see that, Mr. Dubster, when two of your wives died so soon and left you so handsome. Why, yes, I don't say to the contrary of that, but then think of the time before when I was Prentice. The shower was now over and the party proceeded as before. Edgar, uncertain, irresolute, walked on in silence, yet attentive, assiduous, even tenderly watchful to guide, guard, and assist his fair companion in her way. The name of the Major trembled perpetually upon his lips, but fear what might be the result of his inquiries stopped his speech till they approached the house. When he commanded voice to say, You permit, then, the renewal of my old privilege? Permit? I wish for it. They were now at the door. Edgar, not daring to speak again to Camilla, and not able to address anyone else took his leave, enchanted that he was authorized once more to inform himself with openness of the state of her affairs and of her conduct. And Camilla, dwelling with delight upon the discernment of Mrs. Albury, blessed the happy penetration that hen endowed her with courage to speak again to Edgar in terms of friendship and confidence. Mrs. Mitten, declaring she could not eat till she had seen what could be done for the hat of Miss Tyreld, accompanied her upstairs, took it off herself, wiped it, smoothed, and tried to new-arrange it, and, at last, failing to succeed, insisted upon taking it home to put it in order and promised to return it in the morning time enough for the Pantels. Camilla was much ashamed, but she had no means to buy another, and she had now lost her indifference to going abroad. She thought, therefore, this new acquaintance at least as useful as she was officious and accepted her civility with thanks. End of Chapter 6 Book 6, Chapter 7 of Camilla 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 Linda Velwest. Camilla, or A Picture of You, by Fanny Burney. Book 6, Chapter 7 The Rooms The evening as usual was destined to the rooms. The first object Camilla perceived upon her entrance was Acre, and the smile with which she met his eyes brought him instantly to her side. That smile was not less radiant for his nearer approach, nor was his pleasure in it less animated for observing that Major Sir Wood was not of her party, nor as yet in the room. The opportunity seemed inviting to engage her himself. To suggest and to find it irresistible was the same thing, and he inquired if her whole evening were arranged, or she would go down to dances with an old friend. The softness of her assent was even exquisite delight to him, and as they all walked up and down the apartment, though he addressed her but little, and though she spoke but an answer, every word he uttered she received as couching some gentle meaning, and every syllable she replied he thought conveyed something of flattering interest, and although all was upon open and unavoidable subjects, he had no eyes but for her, she had no attention but for him. This quiet yet heartfelt intercourse was soon a little interrupted by the appearance of a large and striking party, led on by Lady Alathea Selmore, for which everybody made way, to which everybody turned, and which, passing by all the company without seeming conscious there was any to pass, formed a mass at the upper end of the room, with an air and manner of such exclusive attention to their chief, to one another, that common observation would have concluded some film before their eyes obstructed their discerning that they were not the soul and grocers of the apartment. But such was not the judgment formed of them by Mrs. Arlbury, who, forced by the stream to give them passage, paid herself for the condescension by a commentary upon the passengers. Those good people, said she, strive to make us believe we are nothing to them. They strive even to believe it themselves, but this is the mere semblance worn by pride and affectation to veil internal fatigue. They come hither to recruit their exhausted powers, not indeed by joining in our society, but by a view of new objects for their senses, and the flattering idea for their minds of the envy or admiration they excite. They are all people of some consequence, and many of them are people of title, but these are far the most supportable of the group. Their privileged superiority over the rest is so marked and indisputable that they are saved the trouble either of claiming or ascertaining it. But those who approach their rank without reaching it live in a constant struggle to make known their importance. Indeed, I have often seen that people of title are less gratified with the sound of their own honors than people of no title in pronouncing them. Sir, saidly Clarendale, was of this set, like the rest he passed Mrs. Arlbury without seeming to notice her, and was passing Camilla in the same manner, but not aware this was only to be fine, like the party to which he belonged, she very innocently spoke to him herself to hope he got safe to his lodgings without feeling any further ill effects from his accident. Sir, saidly, though internally much gratified by this interest in his safety, which in Camilla was the result of having herself endangered it, looked as if he scarce recollected her, and making hastily a kind of half-bow walked on with his company. Camilla, who had no view nor one serious thought concerning him, was rather amused than displeased by his caprices, and was preparing to relate the history of his lameness to Edgar, who seemed surprised and even hurt by her addressing him, and by his so slightly passing her, when the entrance of another splendid party interrupted all this course. And here, to her utter amaze, she beheld as chief of the group her romantic new friend, not leading, indeed, like Lady Alathea Selmore a train, but surrounded by admirers, who, seeking no eye but hers, seemed dim and humble planets moving round a radiant sun. Camilla now, forgetting Sir, saidly, would have taken this moment to narrate her adventure with Mrs. Burlington had not her design been defeated by the approach of the Major. He belonged to this last group, but was the only one that separated from it. He spoke to Camilla with his usual air of devotion, told her he had dined with Mrs. Burlington to whose husband whom he had taken for her grandfather, he had just been introduced and begged to know of Mrs. Arlebury if he might have the pleasure of bringing them all acquainted, an offer which Camilla, unauthorized by Mrs. Burlington, had not ventured to make. Mrs. Arlebury declined the proposal, not anxious to mix, where she had small chance of presiding. The party, after transversing the room, took full and exclusive possession of a considerable spot just below that occupied by Lady Alethea. These two companies completely engrossed all attention, amply supplying the rest of the assembly with topics for discourse. The set with Lady Alethea Selmore was, in general, haughty, supercilious, and taciturn. Looking around with eyes determined to see neither any person nor any thing before them and rarely speaking except to applaud what fell from her ladyship, who, far less proud, because a lover of popularity, deigned herself from time to time a slight glance at the company to see if she was observed and to enjoy its reverence. The party to which Mrs. Burlington was the lodestone was far more attractive to the disciples of nature, though less sedulously sought by those whom the manners and maxims of the common world had sophisticated. They were gay, elegant, desirous to please because pleased themselves, and though some of them harbored designs deeper and more dangerous than any formed by the votaries of rank, they appeared to have nothing more in view than to decorate with flowers the present moment. The magnetic influence of beauty was, however, more powerful than that of the ton. For though Mrs. Burlington from time to time allured a bow from Lady Alethea Selmore, her ladyship during the whole season had not one retaliation to boast. But, on the other hand, the females, in general, strove to cluster about Lady Alethea, Mrs. Burlington leaving them no greater chance of rivalship in conversation than in charms. Edgar had made way upon the approach of the major, who wore an air of superior claim extremely unpleasant to him. But, since already engaged to Mila, he meant to return to her when the dancing began. She concluded he left her but to speak to some acquaintance and was herself amply occupied in observing her new friend. The light in which she now beheld her admired, pursued, and adulated, elegantly adorned in her person and evidently with but one rival for fame and fashion in Tunbridge, filled her with astonishment. Nothing could less assort with her passion for solitude, her fondness for literary and sentimental discussions, and her enthusiasm in friendship. But her surprise was mixed with praise and admiration, when she reflected upon the soft humility and caressing sweetness of her manners, yet found her, by general consent, holding this elevated rank in society. The major earnestly pressed to conduct Mila to this coterie, assuring her Mrs. Burlington would not have passed had she seen her, for during dinner and at coffee she had talked of nobody else. Camilla heard this with pleasure but shrunk from all advances and strove rather too high than shoe herself that Mrs. Burlington might have full liberty either to seek or avoid her. She wished to consult anchor upon this acquaintance, though the present splendor of her appearance and the number of her followers made her fear she could never induce him to do justice to the sweetness and endearment of her social powers. When the major found he pleaded in vain he said he would at least let Mrs. Burlington know where to look for her and went himself to that lady. Edgar, who had felt sensibly mortified to observe when he retreated that the eyes and attention of Camilla had been wholly bestowed upon what he considered merely as a new scene, was now coming forward when he saw Mrs. Burlington hastily arise, suddenly break from all her agulators and with quick steps and animated gestures to verse the apartment to address Camilla, whom, taking by both her hands which she pressed to her heart, she conjured in the most flattering terms to accompany her back. Camilla was much gratified yet from delicacy to Mrs. Arlbury, stimulated by the fear of missing her expected partner in the country dances, declined the invitation. Mrs. Burlington looked disappointed but said she would be importunate and returned alone. Camilla, a little disturbed, besought the major to follow with an offer of spending with her if she pleased the whole of the ensuing day. Charming, cried the major, for I am engaged to her myself already. To Camilla this hearing was distressing. To Edgar it was scarcely indurable. But she could not retract and Edgar was stopped in the inquiries regarding this striking new acquaintance by an abrupt declaration from Mrs. Arlbury that the rooms were insufferable and she would immediately go home. She then gave her hand to the general and Ms. Dennell took the arm of Camilla, murmuring that she would never leave the rooms at such an early hour again when once she was married. To quit Edgar thus at the very moment of renewed intercourse in Amity seemed too cruel, disinstammering, whispered to Mrs. Arlbury, What can I do, ma'am? Most unfortunately I have engaged myself to dance. With whom? With Mr. Mendebeer. Oh, vastly well, stay then by all means, but as he has not engaged me too, allow me I beseech you to escape. Mrs. Burlington will I am sure be happy to take care of you. This game was to Camilla the most pleasant that could be proposed and at the same instant the Major returned to her with these words written with a pencil on the back of a letter. Tomorrow and next day and next day come to me my lovely friend. Everything and everybody fatigues me but yourself. Camilla obliged again to have recourse to the Major, wrote upon the same paper, Can you have the goodness to convey me to Mount Pleasant tonight if I may, and begged him to bring her an answer. She entreated also Mrs. Albury to stop till it arrived, which was almost in the same minute, for the eye of Mrs. Burlington had but glanced upon the words, air her soft and lovely form was again with their fair rider, with whom, smiling and delighted, she walked back, arm in arm, to take her place. Mrs. Albury and the General, and Mr. and Miss Dennell now fit. He found that the young lady she joined was sister-in-law to appear, and as fashionable as she was beautiful, but could not fathom how so great an intimacy had so suddenly been formed. Camilla, thus distinguished, became now herself an object of peculiar notice. Her own personal claim to particular attention her dejection had forfeited for had robbed her eyes of their animation and origin spreads with greater certainty, nor greater speed than that of fashion. Slander itself is not more sure of promulgation. She was now looked at by all present as if seen for the first time. Everyone discovered in her some charm, some grace, some excellence. Those who the minute before had passed her with perfect indifference said it was impossible to see and not be struck with her, and upon no spot under the sun and not instinctively be singled out and formed to shine in the highest sphere. But he by whom this transaction was observed with most pleasure was Sir Sedley Clarendale. The extraordinary service he had performed for Camilla and the grateful interest she had shown him in return had led him to consider her with an attention so favorable that without half her merit or half her beauty she could not have failed rising in his estimation and exciting his regard. And she had now a superior charm that distanced every other. She had been asked to dance yet refused it by a man of celebrity in the Chan, and she was publicly sought and caressed by the only rival at Tunbridge in that species of renown to Lady Alathea Selmore. He felt an increased desire to be presented to Mrs. Burlington and gliding from his own circle as quietly as he could contrive not to offend Lady Alathea who though she laughed at the little Welsh rustic was watchful of her rotaries and jealous of her rising power came gently behind Lord O'Learney and whispered his request. He was received by the young beauty with that grace and that sweetness which rendered her so generally bewitching yet with an air that proved her already accustomed to her generation and untouched by its intoxicating qualities. All that was voluntary of her attention was bestowed exclusively upon Camilla. Though when addressed and called upon by others she answered without impatience and looked without displeasure. This conduct at the same time that it should her a point of view the most amiable raised Camilla higher and higher in the eyes of the bystanders and in a few minutes more the general cry was to inquire who was the young lady thus brought forward by Mrs. Burlington. Apeger heard this with increased anxiety. Has she discretion, has she fortitude, thought he, to withstand public distinction? Will it not spoil her for private life, estrange her from family concerns, render tasteless and insipid the conjugal and maternal characters meant by nature to form not the most sacred of duties, but the most delicious of enjoyments? Very soon after this anxiety was tinctured with a feeling more severe, he saw her spoken to negligently by Sir Sedley. He required after what he had already himself deemed impertinent from the baronet that she should have assumed to him a distant dignity. But he perceived on the contrary that she answered him with pleasant alacrity and when engaged by Mrs. Burlington attended to him even with distinction. Alas, thought he, the degradation from the true female character is already begun. Already the lure of fashion draws her from what she owes to delicacy and propriety to give a willing reception to insolence and phoppery. Camilla meanwhile, unsuspicious of his remarks and persuaded that his ability in her power was due to Sir Sedley was gay, pleased and pleasing. Happy to consider herself under the guidance and restore to the amity of Edgar and determined to acquaint him with all her affairs and consult him upon all her proceedings. The dancing for which mutually they languished as the mutual means of reunion seemed not to be the humor of the evening and those who were ready for it were not of interest to bring it forward. But when Mrs. Burlington mentioned that she had been taking some lessons in a coutillion, a universal cry was raised by all her party to try one immediately. She pleaded in vain her inexperience in such dances. They insisted there was nobody present that could criticize that her form alone would compensate for every mistake of rule and that the best lesson was easy practice. She was soon gained for she was not addicted to denials, but the application which ensued to Camilla was acceded to less promptly. As there were but two other ladies in the circle of Mrs. Burlington her assistance was declared to be indispensable. She pleaded inability of every sort, though to dance without Edgar was her only real objection for she had no false shame in being ignorant of what she had never learned. But Mrs. Burlington she would not rise if she were the only novice to be exhibited and the major then prepared to prostrate himself at the feet of Camilla who hastily and ashamed stood up to prevent an action that Edgar might misinterpret. Hoping however now to at least draw him into their set she ventured to acknowledge to Mrs. Burlington that she was already engaged in case she danced. The major who heard her and who knew it was not to himself was continuously declared this could only be for country dances and therefore would not interfere with a coutillion. Will country dances then, said she blushing, follow? Certainly if one has spirit to begin them. The coutillion was now played and the preceding bow from the opposite major forced her curtsy in return. The little skill in this dance of one of the performers and the total want of it made it a mere pleasantry to all though the youth and beauty of the two who did the worst rendered them objects of admiration and left nearly unnoticed those who did best. To Camilla what belonged to pleasantry in this business was of short duration. When the coutillion was over she saw nothing of Edgar. She looked around, mortified, disappointed. No one called for a country dance and the few who had wished for it concluding all chance over the coutillion was begun had now retired or given it up. What was this disappointment compared with the sufferings of Edgar? Something of a contest and of entreaties had reached his ears while he had hovered near the party or strolled up and down the room. He had gathered the subject was dancing and he saw the major most earnest with Camilla. He was sure it was for her hand and concluded it was the dance but could she forfeit her engagement? Were matters so far advanced as to make her so openly shoe him all prevailing, all powerful not only over all rivals but according to the world's established customs upon these occasions over all decorum presently he saw the major half kneel. He saw her rise to prevent the prostration and he heard the dance called. He could bear no more pain intolerable seas distracted him and he abruptly quitted the ballroom lest the major should approach him with some happy apology which he was unfitted to receive. He could only settle his ideas by supposing she really loved major Sirwood and had suffered her character to be infected by the indelicacy that made a part of his own. Yet why had she so striven to deny all regard all connection? What an unaccountable want of frankness! What a miserable dereliction of truth! His first impulse was to set off instantly from Tunbridge but his second thoughts represented the confession this would make. He was too proud to leave the major whom he despised such a triumph and too much hurt to permit Camilla herself to know him so poignantly wounded. She could not indeed restruct by his retreat. He resolved, however, to try to meet with her the next day and to speak to her with the amity they had so lately arranged yet in a way that should manifest him wholly free from all other interest or view. End of Chapter 7 Recording by Linda Velwest Book 6 Chapter 8 of Camilla 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 Linda Velwest Camilla or A Picture of Youth by Fanny Burney Book 6 Chapter 8 Ways to the Heart All pleasure to Camilla was completely over from the moment that Edgar disappeared. When she returned to Mount Pleasant Mrs. Arlebury whom she found alone said, Do I not understand that you were going to dance to Mandelbeer? How chance he to leave you? We were kept ages waiting for the coach and I saw him pass by and walk off. Camilla coloring related the history of the Catillion and said she feared not knowing how she had been circumstance he was displeased. Displeased! cried Mrs. Arlebury laughing. And do you at seventeen suffer a man to be displeased? How can you do worse when you are fifty? Know your power more truly and use it better. Men, my dear, are all spoiled by humility and conquered by gaiety. Amuse and defy them. Attend to that maxim and you will have the world at your feet. I have no such ambition but I should be sensibly hurt to make an old friend think ill of me. When an old friend said Mrs. Arlebury actually happens to be a young man you must conduct yourself with him a little like what you are, that is a young woman. And a young woman is never in her proper place if such sort of old friends are not taught to know their own. From the instant you permit them to think of being offended they become your masters and you will find it vastly more convenient to make them your slaves. Camilla pretended to understand this in a mere general sense and said to her, good night. The next morning and an early hour her chamber door was opened with great suddenness and no preparation and Mrs. Mitten trept nimbly into the room with a hat in her hand. Look here, my dear Miss Tyrold cried she for now that other young lady has told me her name and I rid it down upon paper that I might not forget it again. Look at your hat now. Did you ever see anything so improved by Claire no one would know it. Miss Dennell says it's as pretty again as it was at first. I'll go and shoe it to the other lady. Away she went triumphant with the trophy of her notability but presently returned saying, do pray Miss Tyrold write me down that other lady's name upon a scrap of paper it always goes out of my head and one looks as if one knew nobody when one forgets people's names. Camilla complied and expressed her shame to and caused her so much trouble. Oh, my dear, it's none at all. I got all the things at Mrs. Tilden's. Who is Mrs. Tilden? cried Camilla, staring. Oh, why the millner? Don't you know that? What things? As Camilla alarmed. Why, these, my dear, don't you see why it's all new except just the hat itself and the feathers. Camilla was now an extreme embarrassment. She had concluded Mrs. Mitten had only newly arranged the ornaments and had not the smallest idea of incurring a debt which she had no means to discharge. It all comes to quite a trifle, continued Mrs. Mitten, for it's all so pretty. Mrs. Tilden's things are all monstrous cheap. I get things for next to nothing from her sometimes when they are little past the mode but then I recommend her a heap of customers. I get all my friends by hooker at the shop. And what, stammered out Camilla, besides my thanks do I owe you? Oh, nothing. She would not be paid. She said as you was her customer and had all your things of her at first she'd put it down on your bill for the season. This was at least summer spite, though Camilla felt the disagreeable necessity of increasing her intended demand upon Mrs. Arlebury. Miss Dennell came with a summons from that lady with her as the day was fine she proposed that they should walk. Oh, cried Mrs. Mitten, if you are going to the Pantiles you must go to that shop where there's the curious earrings that are to be raffled for. You'll put in to be sure. Camilla said no, with a sigh attributed to the earrings but due to a tender recollection of the raffle in which Edgar had procured her the trinket she most valued. Mrs. Mitten proposed accompanying them and asked Camilla to introduce her to Mrs. Arlebury. This was very disagreeable but she knew not how after the civility she owed her to refuse. Mrs. Arlebury received her with much surprise but perfect unconcerned, conscious of her own importance. She feared no disgrace from being seen with one in a lower situation and she conceived it no honour to appear with one in a higher. When they came to the Pantiles Mrs. Mitten begged to introduce them to a view of the earrings which belonged, she said, to one of her particular friends. And as Mrs. Arlebury caught the eye of Sir Cedle Clarendale in passing the window, she entered the shop. Well, cried Mrs. Mitten to its master, don't say I bring you no company. I'm sure you ought to let me throw from nothing if it's only for good luck, for I am sure these three ladies will all put in. Come, Miss Dantle, do lead the way as but half a guinea and only look what a prize. It's papa to pay for me, cried Miss Dantle. Come, good sir, come, put down the half guinea for the young lady. I'm sure you can't refuse her. Lord, what's half a guinea? That's a very bad way of reasoning, answered Mr. Dantle, and what I did not expect from a woman of your sense. Why, you don't think, sir, I meant that half a guinea is a trifle. No, what money is better than that. I only mean half a guinea is nothing in comparison to ten guennies, which is the price of the earrings. And so that makes me think it's pity the young lady should lose an opportunity of getting them so cheap. I'm sure if they were dear I should be the last to recommend them, for I think extravagance the greatest sin under the sun. Well, no, you speak like the sensible woman I took you for. A very little more eloquence of this sort was necessary before Mr. Dantle put down half a guinea. Well, I declare, cried Mrs. Mitten, there's only three more names wanted, and when these two ladies have put in there will be only one. I'm sure if I was rich enough that one would not be far off. But come, ma'am, where's your half guinea? Come, Miss Hyrule, don't hold back. Who knows, but you may win. There's only nineteen against you. Lord, what's that? Camilla turned away, and Mrs. Arlberry did not listen to a word. But when Sir Sedley said they are really very pretty, won't you throw? She answered, I must rather make a raffle with my own trinkets than raffle for other peoples. Think of my ponies, however I'll put in if Mr. Dantle will be my paymaster. Mr. Dantle, turning short off, walked out of the shop. This is a bad omen, cried she, laughing, and then tried to look at the list of rafflers. When seeing amongst the names those of Lady Alathea Salmore and the honourable Mrs. Burlington, she exclaimed, "'Tis a coalition of all fashion and reputation. We shall be absolutely scouted, my dear Miss Hyrule, if we shrink. My poor ponies must wait half a guinea longer. Let's put in together.' Camilla answered. She had no intention to try for them. "'Well, then, lend me half a guinea, I have not a half guinea. I have no gold in my purse,' answered Camilla with a face deeply tinged with red. Major Sirwood, who joined the party during this discussion, entreated to be banker for both the ladies. Camilla positively refused any share, but Mrs. Mitten said it would be a shame for such a young lady to go without her chance and wrote down her name next to that alberry, while the major, without further question, put down a guinea upon the counter. Camilla could not endure this, yet from a youthful shame of confessing poverty forced herself to the ear of Mrs. Arlberry and whispered an entreaty that she would pay the guinea herself. Mrs. Arlberry surprised, answered that she had really come out without her purse, but seeing her seriously vexed at it, "'If you do not approve of the major for a banker till we go pay you too, Sir Sedley!' "'I shall prefer him a thousand times!' Mrs. Arlberry in a low voice repeated this to the young baronet, and receiving his guinea through it down, making the major without the smallest excuse or ceremony take back his own. This was by no means lost upon Sir Sedley. He felt flattered. He felt softened. He thought Camilla looked unusually lovely. He began to ponder at the coldness of Mandelbeer and to lament that the first affections of so fair a creature should be cast away. Mandelbeer himself was an object of nothing less than envy. He had entered the shop during the contest about the raffle, and seen major Sir would pay for Camilla as well as for Mrs. Arlberry. Confirmed in his notions of her positive engagement, and sick at heart from the confirmation, he walked further into the shop, upon intense of looking at some other articles before he could assume sufficient composure to speak to her. Mrs. Mitten now began woefully to repine that she could not take the last share for the earrings, and addressing herself to Mr. Dennell, who re-entered as soon as he saw the money was paid for Mrs. Arlberry, she said, You see, sir, if there was somebody ready to take the last chance at once, this gentleman might fix a day for the throwing on, nobody knows how long, for one will be gone, and the other will be gone, and there'll be no getting the people together, and all the pleasure of the thing is being here to throw for oneself, for I don't much like trusting money matters out of sight. If I had thought of all that, said Mr. Dennell, I should not have put in. Oh, true, sir, but here, if it was not that I don't happen to have half a guinea to spare just now, how nicely it might have all been finished in a while, for as I've been saying to Miss Dennell, this may turn out a real bargain, for they'll fetch their full value at any time, and I tell Miss Dennell that's the only way to lay out money upon things that will bring it back again if it's wanted, not upon frippery froppery that's spoiled in a minute, and it isn't worth a farthing. Very sensibly said, cried Mr. Dennell, I'm sure she can't hear better advice, I'm much obliged to you for putting her thoughts into her head, and then, hoping she would continue her good lessons to his daughter, he drew out his purse, and begged her to accept a chance from it for the prize. Mrs. Mitten was in rapture, and the following week was settled for the raffle. Mrs. Arlberry, who had attended to this scene with much amusement, now said to General Kinsale, who had taken his seat by her, did I not tell you well, General, that all men are at the disposition of women? If a shrewd-moneyed man cannot resist what heart shall we find impenetrable? The connoisseur in human characters knows that the pursuit of wealth is the petrification of tenderness, yet Yonder is my good brother-in-law who thinks cash and existence won, allured even to squander money merely by the address of that woman in allowing that money should be the first study of life. Let even Clarendle have a care of himself, or, when least he suspects any danger, some fair dairy-maid will praise his horsemanship, or take a fancy to his favorite spaniel, or any other favorite that happens to be the foible of the day, and his invulnerability will be at her feet, and Lady Clarendle will be brought forward in a fortnight. Lord O'Learney now entered the shop, accompanying a lady whose continents and appearance were singularly pleasing, and who, having made some purchase, was quietly retiring, when the master of the shop inquired if she wished to look at the earrings, adding that though the number was full, he knew of one person who would give up her chance in case it would oblige a customer. She answered she had no present occasion for earrings, and would not therefore take up either his time or her own unnecessarily, and then walked gently away, still attended by Lord O'Learney. Bless me, cried Mrs. Arlbury. Who is that? To hear plain common sense is so rare, it strikes one more than wit. It's Lady Isabella Erby, madam, answered the master of the shop. Here Lord O'Learney, who had only handed her to her carriage, returned. My lord, cried Mrs. Arlbury, do you know what a curiosity you brought in amongst us just now? A woman of rank who looks round upon other people just as if she thought they were her fellow-creatures. Fire-fire! answered Lord O'Learney, laughing. Why, will you suppose that's so rare? If we have not as many women who are amable with titles as without, it is only because we have not the same number from which to select them. They are spoilt or unspoilt, but in the same proportion as the rest of their sex, their fall or their escape is less local than you would imagine. It does not depend upon their titles, but upon their understandings. Well, my lord, I believe you are right. I was adopting a narrow prejudice, merely from indolence of thought. By why, my lord, cried Sir Sedley, does this paragon of a divinity deny her example to the world? Is it in contempt of our incorrigibility or in horror of our contagion? My dear Sir Sedley, said Mrs. Arlbury, don't flatter yourself with being so dangerous. Her ladieship does not fly you from fear. Take my word for it. There is nothing in her air that looks as if she could only be good by being shut up. I dare believe she could meet you every day, yet be the mistress of herself. Nevertheless, why, my lord, is she such a recluse? Why does one never see her at the rooms? Never see her, my dear Madame. She is there almost every night. Only being unintruding, she is unnoticed. The satire then, my lord, said Mrs. Arlbury, falls upon the company. Why is she not surrounded by volunteer admirers? Why, with a person in manner so formed to charm, join to such a character and such rank? Has she not her train? The reason, my dear Madame, you could define with more sagacity than myself. She must be sought, and the world is so lazy that the most easy of access, however valueless, is preferred to the most perfect, who must be pursued with any trouble. Admirable Lord O. Learning, thought Edgar, what a lesson is this to youthful females against the glare of public homage, the false brilliancy of unfeminine popularity. This conversation, however, which alone of any he had heard at Tumbridge promised him any pleasure, was interrupted by Mr. Dennell, who said the dinner would be spoiled if all go home. Camilla felt extremely vexed to quick the shop, without clearing up the history of the dance, and Edgar, seeing the persevering major at her side as she departed, in urgency to put any species of period to his own sufferings, followed the party and precipitately began a discourse with Lord O. Learning upon making the tour of Europe. Camilla, for whom it was designed, intent on planning her own defense, heard nothing that was said till Lord O. Switzerland, and he answered, My route is not quite fixed, my lord. Startled she now listened, and Mrs. Arlberry, whom she held by the arm, was equally surprised and looked to see how she bore this intimation. If you will walk with me to my lodgings, replied Lord O. Learning, I will show you my own route, which may perhaps save you some difficulties. Shall you set out soon? I fancy within a month. Answered Edgar, and arm in arm, they walked away together, as Camilla and her party quitted the pantiles for Mount Pleasant. End of Chapter 8 Recording by Linda Bellwest Book 6, Chapter 9 of Camilla. 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 Linda Bellwest Camilla or the picture of youth by Fanny Burnie. Book 6, Chapter 9 Councils for Conquest Fortunately for Camilla, no I was upon her at this period, but that of Mrs. Arlberry. Her changed continents, else, must have betrayed still more widely her emotion. Mrs. Arlberry saw it with real concern, and saying she had something to consult her about, hurried on with her alone. Camilla scarce knew that she did, or what she suffered. The surprise, which involves so severe a disappointment almost stupefied her faculties. Mrs. Arlberry did not utter one word, by the way, and when they arrived at home, saw her to her chamber, pressed her hand, and left her. She now, from a sense of shame, came to her full recollection. She was convinced all her feelings were understood by Mrs. Arlberry. She thought over what her father had said upon such exposures, and hopeless of any honourable end to her suspences, earnestly wished herself back at Etherington, to hide in his revered breast her confusion and grief. Even Mrs. Arlberry, she now believed, had been mistaken. Edgar appeared never to have loved her. His attentions, his kindness, had all flowed from friendship. His solicitude, his counsel, had been the result of family regard. When called to dinner, she descended with downcast eyes. She found no company invited. She felt thankful, yet abashed, and Mrs. Arlberry let her retire when the meal was over. But soon followed to bake, she would prepare for the play. She saw her hastily putting away her handkerchief and dispersing her tears. Oh, my dear! cried she, taking her hand. I am afraid this old friend of yours does not much contribute to make Tunbridge glorious to you. Camilla, affecting not to understand her, said she had never been in better health. Of mine, do you mean? Or body? cried Mrs. Arlberry, laughing. But seeing she only redoubled her distress more seriously added, will you suffer me, my dear Miss Tyrold, to play the old friend also, and speak to you with openness? Camilla durst not say no, though she feared to say yes. I must content myself with a test of compliance if I can obtain no other. I am really uneasy to talk with you, not believe me from officiousness nor impertinence, but from a persuasion I may be able to promote your happiness. You won't speak, I see. And you judge perfectly right, for the less you claim, the less I shall torment you. Permit me therefore to take for granted that you are already aware I am acquainted with the state of your heart. Camilla, trembling, had now no wish but to fly. She fastened her eyes upon the door, and every thought was devoted to find the means of escape. Nay, nay, if you look frightened in sombre sadness I am gone. You know less for saying nothing? It is not speech, my dear Miss Tyrell, that makes detections, it only proclaims them. Asai was all the answer of Camilla, though assured thus she had nothing to gain by flight, she forced herself to stay. We understand one another I see perfectly. Let me now, then, as if the grand explanation had been verbally made, that your fancy, my fair young friend has hit upon a tormentor I will not deny. Yet not upon an ingrate, for this person, little as you seem conscious of your power, certainly loves you. Surprised of all sort of guard, Camilla exclaimed, Oh, no! Mrs. Arlberry smiled, but went on. Yes, my dear, he undoubtedly does you that little justice, yet if you are not well advised his passion will be unavailing and your artlessness, your facility, and your innocence with his knowledge, nay his very admiration of them will operate but to separate you. Glowing with opposing yet strong emotions at these words, the words of Camilla asked an explanation in defiance of her earnest desire to look indifferent or angry. You would wonder, and very naturally, how such attractions should work as repulses, but I will be plain and clear and you must be candid and rational and forgive me. These attractions, my dear, will be the source of this mischief, because he sees by their means that you are undoubtedly at his command. No, madame, no, Mrs. Arlberry, cried Camilla in whose pride now every other feeling was concentrated, he does not, cannot see it. I would not hurt you for the world, my very amiable young friend, but pardon me if I say that not to see it, he must be blinder than I imagine him, blinder than... To tell you the truth, I am much inclined to think any of his race. Confounded, irritated and wounded, Camilla remained a moment silent, and then though scarce articulately answered, if such is your opinion, at least he shall see it, fancy it, I mean, no more. Keep to that resolution, and you will behold him, where he ought to be, at your feet. Resistably, though most unwillingly appeased by this unexpected conclusion, she turned away to hide a blush in which anger had not solely a place, and suffered Mrs. Arlberry to go on. There is but one single method to make a man of his ruminating class know his own mind, give him cause to fear he will lose you, animate, inspire it, inspire him with doubt. But why, ma'am, cried Camilla in a faltering tone, why shall you suppose I will take any method at all? The apprehension you will take none is the very motive that urges me to speak to you. You are young enough in the world to think men come of themselves, but you are mistaken, my dear. That happens rarely except with inflamed and hot-headed boys whose passions are in their first innocence as well as violence. Mandobert has already given the dominion of his to other rulers who will take more care of his pride, though not of his happiness. Attend to one who has traveled further into life than yourself, and believe me when I assert that his bane, and yours alike, is his security. With a color yet deeper than ever, Camilla thankfully repeated. Security? Nay, how can he doubt with a situation in life such as his? Situation in life? Do you think he can ever suppose that would have the least the most minute weight with me? Why, it would be a very shocking supposition I allow, but yet, somehow or other, that same sordid thing called money does manage to produce such abundance of little comfort and pretty amusements that one is apt to have suspect. It may really not much add to any matrimonial aversion. The very idea of such a suspicion offended Camilla beyond all else that had passed. Mrs. Arlberry appeared to her indelicate, unkind and ungenerous, and she had ever seen and repenting she had ever known her she sunk upon a chair in a passionate burst of tears. Mrs. Arlberry embraced her, begged her pardon a thousand times, assured her all she had uttered was the effect of esteem as well as of affection since she saw her too delicate and too inexperienced to be aware either of the dangers or the advantages surrounding her and that very far from meaning to hurt her she had few things more at heart than the desire of proving the sincerity of her regard and endeavouring to contribute to her happiness. Camilla thanked her, dried her eyes and strove to appear composed, but she was too deeply affected for internal consolation. She felt herself degraded in being openly addressed as a love-sick girl and injured in being supposed for a moment not capable of any mercenary view. She desired to be excused going out and to have the evening to herself, not on account of the expense of the play she had again wholly forgotten her poverty, but to breathe a little alone and indulge the sadness of her mind. Mrs. Arlberry unfainedly sorry to have caused her any pain would not oppose her inclination. She repeated her apologies, dragged from her business, and went downstairs alone to a summons from Sir Sedley-Clarendale. The first moments of her departure were spent by Camilla in the deepest dejection, from which, however, the recollection of her father and her solemn engagement to him soon after awakened her. She read again his injunctions and resolving not to act to earn happiness by any failure in her duty determined to make her appearance with herself set out. My dear Clarendale, cried that lady as she entered the parlor, this poor little girl is in a more serious plight than I had conjectured. I have been giving her a few hints from the stores of my worldly knowledge, and they appear to her so detestably mean and vulgar that they have almost broken her heart. The arrival of this odious Mondelbeer has overthrown all our schemes. We are cut up, Sir Sedley, completely cut up. Oh, indubitably to a degree, cried the baronet with an air of mingled peak and conceit. How could it be otherwise? Exist the white who could dream of a competition with Mondelbeer. Nay now, my dear Clarendale, you enchant me. If you view his power with resentment, you are the man in the world to crumble it to the dust, to work therefore, dear creature, without delay. But how must I go about it? A little instruction for pity. Charming innocent, so you don't know how to try to make yourself agreeable. Not in the least. I am ignorant to a redundance. And were you never more adroit? Never. A gulf in the grain, witless from the first mulling in my nurse's arms. Come, come, a truce for a moment with a faupery, and answer me seriously. Were you ever in love, Clarendale? Speak the truth, I am just seized with a passionate desire to know. Why, yes. Answered he, pulling his lips with his fingers. I think I rather think I was once. Oh, tell, tell, tell. Nay, I am not very positive. One hears it is to happen, and one is put upon thinking of it, while so very young, that one soon takes it for granted. Define it a little, and I can answer you more accurately. Pray, is it anything beyond being very fond and very silly with a little touch of melancholy? Precise, precise, tell me therefore what it was that caught you, beauty, fortune, flattery, or wit. Speak, speak, I die to know. Oh, I have forgotten all that, these hundred years. I have not the smallest trace left. You are a terrible cox-com, my dear Clarendale, and I am a worse myself for giving you so much encouragement. But, however, we must absolutely do something for this fair and drooping violet. She won't go even to the play tonight. Lovely Lily, how shall we rear it? Tell her I beg her to be of our party. You beg her? My dear Sir Zedley, what do you talk of? Tell her it is my entreaty, my supplication. And you think that will make her comply? You will see. Bravo, my dear Clarendale, bravo. However, if you have the courage to send such a message, I have not to deliver it. But I will write it for you. She then wrote, Sir Zedley, Clarendale asserts that if you are not as inexorable as you are fair, you will not refuse to join our little party tonight at the theatre. Sir Milla, after a severe conflict from this note, which it concluded to be the mere work of Mrs. Albury to draw her from retirement, sent word she would wait upon her. Sir Zedley heard the answer with exultation and Mrs. Albury with surprise. She declared, however, that since he possessed this power, she should not suffer it to lie dormant, but make it work upon her fair friend till it either excited jealousy there, or brought indifference to herself. My resolution, cried she, is fixed, either to see him at her feet or drive him from her heart. Camilla, presently descending, looked away from Mrs. Albury, but unsuspicious as she was undesigning, thanked the baronet for his message and told him she had already repented her solitary plan. But the more flattered, for supposing this was said from the fear of flattering him. In the way to the theatre, Camilla with much confusion, recollected her empty purse. But could not, before Mr. and Miss Danil and Sir Zedley, prevail with herself to make it known. She could only determine to ask Mrs. Albury to pay for her at present and defer the explanation till night. But, just as she alighted from the stage, Mrs. Albury, in her usual manner, said, Do pay for me, good Danil, you know how I hate money. Camilla, hurrying after her, whispered, May I beg you to lend me some silver? Silver! I have not carried any about with me since I lost my dear ponies and my pet pheaton. I am as poor as Job and therefore bent upon avoiding all temptation. Only our other always trusts me. If they get paid, they bless their stars. If not, do you hear me, Mr. Danil? It will be all the same on a hundred years hence. So what man of any spirit will think of it? Hey, Mr. Danil! But dear, Madame, pray. Oh, they'll change for you, hear, my dear, without difficulty. But, but pray, stop. I, I have no gold there. Have you done like me, then, come out without your purse? No. This single negative and the fluttered manner and low voice in which it was pronounced gave Mrs. Albury the utmost astonishment. She said nothing, however, but called aloud to Mr. Danil to settle for the whole party. Mr. Danil, during the dialogue, had paid for himself and his daughter and walked on in a box. What a hot and taut! exclaimed Mrs. Albury. Come, then, Clarendale, take pity on two poor distressed objects and let us pass. Sir Sedley, little suspicious of the truth yet flattered to be always called upon to be the banker of Camilla, obeyed with alacrity. Mrs. Albury placed Camilla upon a seat before her and motioned to the baronet to her head. My dear Clarendale, do you know they have let that poor girl come to Tunbridge without a sixpence in her pocket? Poor is it! Powerful! Oh, tis a fact. I never suspected it till suspicion was followed by confirmation. She had a guinea or two I fancy at first just to equip her with one set of things to appear in, which probably the good person imagined passed as clean and as long at a public place as at his parsonage house where my best suit is worn about twice in a summer. But how that rich uncle of hers could suffer her to come without a penny I can neither account for nor forgive! I have seen her shyness about money matters for some days past, but I so little conjectured the possibility of her distress that I have always increased than spared it. Sweet little angel! exclaimed the baronet in a tone of tenderness. I had indeed no idea of her situation. Heavens, I could lay half my fortune at her feet to set her at ease. Half, my dear Clarendale! cried Mrs. Arilbury, laughing. Nay, why not the whole? Where will you find a more lovely companion? Well, but why should it be so vastly hard in incongruity that a man who by chance is rich should do something for a woman who by chance is poor? How immensely impertinent is the prejudice that forbids so natural a use of money? Why should the better half of a man's actions be always under the dominion of some prescriptive slavery? Tithidious to think of. And how could he more collectively spend or more aesthetically enjoy his fortune than by so equitable participation? True, sir, sadly, and you men are all so disinterested so pure in your benevolence, so free from any spirit of encroachment that no possible ill consequence could ensue from such an arrangement? When once a fair lady had made you a civil courtesy, you would wholly forget you had ever obliged her. And you would let her walk her ways and forget it also, especially if by chance she happened to be young and pretty. This railery was interrupted by the appearance of Edgar in an opposite box. Ah! cried Mrs. Arlbury. Look at what that piece of conglolation that nothing seems to thaw. Enter the lists against him, dear Condell. He has stationed himself there merely to watch and discontentance her. I hate him heartily. Yet he rolls in wealth and she has nothing. I must bring them therefore together positively. For though a husband, such a fastidious one especially, is not what I would recommend to her for happiness, tis better than poverty. And after his cold and selfish manner I am convinced he loves her. He is evidently in pursuit of her, though he wants generosity to act openly. Work him, but with little jealousy, and you will find me right. Me, my bear, madame. Me, my divine, Mrs. Arlbury. Alas, with what chance? No, see where enters the gallant major. Thence must issue those poignant darts that newly vivified the expiring embers of languishing love. Now don't talk such nonsense when I am really serious. You are the very man for the purpose. Because, though you have no feeling, Mandelbeer does not know you are without it. But those officers are too notoriously unmeaning to excite a moment's real apprehension. They have a new dulcina wherever they newly quarter and carry about the few ideas they possess from damsel to damsel as regularly as from town to town. The major was now in the box, and the conversation ended. He endeavored as usual to monopolize Camilla, but while her thoughts were all upon Edgar, the whole she could command of her attention was bestowed upon Sir Sedley. This was not unobserved by Edgar, who now again wavered in believing she loved the major. But the doubt brought with it no pleasure. It led him only the more to condemn her. Does she turn, thought he thus from one to the other with no preference but of accident or caprice? Is her favor thus light of circulation? It is now the mockest major, and now the coxcomb clarindale? Already is she thus versed in the common dissipation of coquetry? Oh, if so, how blessed has been my escape, a coquette wife! His heart swelled and his eye no longer sought her. At night as soon as she went to her own room, Mrs. Arlberry followed her and said, Miss Tyre-old, I know much better than you how many six pences and three pences are perpetually wanted at places such as these. Do suffer me to be your banker. What shall we begin our account with? Camilla felt really thankful for being spared in opening upon this subject. She consented to borrow two guineas. But Mrs. Arlberry would not leave her with less than five, adding, I insist upon doubling it about my distress and my phaeton and my ponies. It is only to torment Denil, who trembles at parting with half a crown for half an hour, or else now and then to set other people a staring, which is not unamusing when nothing else is going forward. But believe me, my dear young friend, were I really in distress, or were I really not to discharge these petty deaths I incur, you would soon discover it by parties. These men that now so flock around us would find some other lodestone. I know them pretty well, dear creatures. Though shot to appear thus destitute, Camilla was somewhat relieved to have no debt but with Mrs. Arlberry, for she resolved to pace her sedly in the millner the next day and to settle with Mrs. Arlberry upon her return to Etherington. Chapter 10 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 Linda Velwest. Camilla or A Picture of Youth by Fanny Burney. Book 6, Chapter 10. Strictures Upon the Ton. The next day was appointed for the master of Tony's Ball, which proved a general rendezvous of all parties and almost all classes of company. Mrs. Mitten, in a morning visit to Camilla, found out that she had only the same cap for this occasion that she had worn upon every other and assuring her it was grown so old-fashioned that not a lady's maiden tonbridge would now be seen in it, she offered to pin her up a turban, which had come to next to nothing yet should be the prettiest and simplest and cheapest thing ever seen. Camilla, though a stranger to vanity and without any natural turn to extravagance, was neither of an age nor philosophy to be unmoved by the apprehension of being exposed to ridicule from her dress. She thankfully, therefore, accepted the proposal and Mrs. Mitten, taking a guinea, said she would pay Mrs. Tilden for the hat at the same time that she brought a new handkerchief for the turban. When she came back, however, she laid out a few shillings at another shop for some articles so cheap she said it would have been a shame not to buy them, but without paying the bill. Mrs. Tilden, having desired it might not be discharged till the young lady was leaving the wells. As the turban was made up from a pattern of one prepared for Mrs. Burlington, Camilla had every reason to be satisfied of its elegance. Nor did Mrs. Mitten involve her in much distress how her own trouble might be the cap she found unfit for Camilla she could contrive, she said, to alter for herself, and, as a friend had given her a ticket for the ball, it would be mighty convenient to her as she had nothing of the kind ready. Far different were the sensations with which Edgar and Camilla saw each other this night, from those with which so lately they had met in the same apartment. Edgar thought her degenerating into the character of a coquette, and in his intended tour, anticipated a period to all their intercourse. She was received, meanwhile, in general with peculiar and flattering attention. Sir, saidly, Clarendale made up to her with public smiles and courtesy. Even Lord Newford and Sir Theophilus Gerard, though they passed by Mrs. Albury without speaking to her, singled out Camilla for their divorce. The distinction paid her by the admired Mrs. Burlington had now not only marked her as an object whom it would not be derogatory to treat with civility, but as one who might, henceforward, be regarded herself as admitted into certain circles. Mrs. Albury, though every way a woman of fashion, they conceived to be somewhat wanting in ton, since she presided in no party, was unnoticed by Lady Alothea Selmore and unknown to Mrs. Burlington. Ton, in the scale of connoisseurs in these certain circles, is as much above fashion as fashion is above fortune. For though the latter is an ingredient that all alike covet to possess, it is courted without being respected and desired without being honored, except only by those who from earliest life have been taught to earn it as a business. Ton, meanwhile, is as attainable without birth as without understanding, though in all the certain circles it takes place of either. To define what it is would be difficult to the most renown of its votaries as to an utter stranger to its attributes. That those who call themselves of the ton either lead or hold cheap all others is obtrusively evident, but how and by what art they attain such preeminence they would be perplexed to explain. That some whim has happily called forth imitators that some strange phrase has been adopted that something odd in dress has become popular that some beauty or some deformity no matter which has found annotators may commonly be traced as the origin of their first public notice. But to whichever of these accidents their early fame may be attributed its establishment and its glory is built upon vanity that knows no deficiency or insolence that knows no blush. Notwithstanding her high superiority both in capacity and knowledge Mrs. Albury felt peaked by this behaviour though she laughed at herself for heeding it. Nevertheless cried she those who shoe contempt even though themselves are the most contemptible always seem on the higher ground yet is only with regard to these animals of the ton that nobody combats them. Their presumption is so notorious that either by disgust or alarm it keeps off reprehension. Let anyone boldly and face to face venture to be more uncivil than themselves and they would be overpowered at once. Their valor is no better than that of a barking cur who affrights all that go on without looking at him but who the moment he is turned upon with a stamp and a fierce look retreats himself amazed, afraid and ashamed. If you Mrs. Albury said the general would undertake to tutor them what good you might do. Oh heavens general suspect me not of such reforming quicksodism I have not the smallest desire to do them any good believe me if nature has given them no sense of propriety why should I be more liberal I only want to punish them and that not alas from virtue but from spite. The conversation of the two men of the Ton with Camilla was soon over it was made up of a few disjointed sentences abusing Tonbridge and praising the German spa in cant words emphatically and concededly pronounced and brought round upon every occasion and in every speech with so precise an exclusion of all other terms that their vocabulary scarce consisted of 40 words in totality Edgar occupied the space they vacated the moment of their departure but not alone Mrs. Mitten came into it with him eager to tell Camilla how everybody admired her term in how sweetly she looked at it how everybody said they should not have known her again it became her so and how they all agreed her head had never been so well dressed before Edgar when he could be heard began speaking of Sir Sedley Clarendale he felt miserable in what he thought her inconsiderate encouragement of such impertinence and the delicacy which restrained him from expressing his opinion of the major had no weight with him here as jealousy had no share in his dislike to the acquaintance he believed the young Baronet incapable of all love but for himself and a decidedly destined bachelor without therefore the smallest hesitation he plainly avowed that he had never met with a more thoroughly conceded fob a more elaborate and self sufficient coxcomb you see him only said Camilla with the impression made by his general appearance and that is all against him I always look for his better qualities and rejoice in finding them his very sight fills me with grateful pleasure by reminding me of the deliverance I owe to him Edgar amazed and treated an explanation and when she had given it struck and affected he clasped his hands and exclaimed how providential such a rescue and how differently shall I henceforth behold him and almost involuntary turning to Mrs. Albury he entreated to be presented to the young Baronet Sir Sedley received his overtures with some surprise but great civility and then went on with a ludicrous account he was giving to Lord Newford and Sir Theophilus a little while ago thou wast all hip and vapor and now thou dost nothing but patronize fun why yes answered the Baronet I begin to tire of NUI tis grown so common I saw my footman beginning it but last week oh hang it oh curse it cried Lord Newford your footmen yes the rogue is not without part I don't know if I shan't give him some lessons upon leaving it off myself the only difficulty is to find out what in this netherworld to do without it how can one fill one's time stretching yawning and all that are such delicious ingredients for coaxing on lazy hours oh hang it oh curse it cried Lord Newford who can exist without them he has half an hour without yawning and stretching for the mogul's empire I'd rather snap short it once no no don't snap short yet little NUI cried Sir Sedley as to me I am never at a loss for an expedient I am not without some thoughts of falling in love he looked at Edgar who not aware this was designed to catch his attention naturally exclaimed thoughts can you choose or avoid at pleasure anyway after 4 in 20 a man is seldom taken by surprise at least not till he is past 40 and then the fear of being too late sometimes renovates the eagerness of the first youth but in general your willing slaves are boys Edgar laughing begged a little information how he meant to put his thoughts in execution nothing so facile tis but to look at some fairer object attentively to follow her with your eyes when she quits the Rome and never let them rest without watching for her return filling up the interval with a few sighs to which in a short time you grow so habituated they become natural and then before you are aware a certain solicitude and restlessness arise which the connoisseurs in natural history dub falling in love those would be good hints said Edgar to urge on waivers wish to persuade themselves to marry oh my dear sir no that's a mistake of the first magnitude no man is in love when he marries he may have loved before I have even heard he is sometimes loved after but at the time never there is something in the formalities of the matrimonial preparations that drive away all the little cupidons they rarely stand even a demand of consent unless they doubt obtaining it but a settlement parchment lawyers no there is not a little love in the island of Cyprus that is not ready to lend a wing to set passion inspiration and tenderness to flight from such excruciating legalities don't prose clary don't prose cried sir theophilus gaping till his mouth was almost distorted oh kidding oh murder cried lord newford dust thou talk of marriage for it seems then said Edgar to be much the same thing what sort of wife falls to a man's lot whether the woman of his choice or a person he should blush to own blush repeated sir sadly smiling no no a man of any fashion never blushes for his wife whatever she may be for his mistress indeed he may blush for if there are any small feelings there his taste may be called into question blush about a wife exclaimed lord newford oh hang it oh curse it that's too bad too bad indeed cried sir theophilus I can't possibly patronize blushing for a wife tis the same then also said Edgar how she turns out when the knot is tired whether well or ill too exactitude if he marry her for beauty let her prove what she may her face offers his apology if for money he needs none but if indeed by some queer chance he marries with a view of living with her then indeed if his particularity gets wind he may grow a little anxious for the acquittal of his oddity in seeing her approved approved haha cried lord newford a wife approved and that's too bad clary that's too bad poor clary what art prosing about cried sir theophilus I can't possibly patronize this prosing the entrance of the beautiful mrs. Burlington and her train now interrupted this conversation the young baronet immediately joined her though not till he had given his hand to Edgar in token of his willingness to cultivate his wealth. Edgar returning to Camilla confessed he had too hastily judged sir sadly when he concluded him a full as well as a phop for added he with a smile I see now one of these epithets is all he merits he is certainly far from deficient in parts though he abuses the good gifts of nature with such pendantry of effectation and conceit Camilla was now intent clear the history of the catillion when mrs. Burlington approaching and with graceful fondness taking her hand and treated to be indulged with her society and since she meant not to dance for Edgar had not asked her and the major she had refused she could not resist her invitation she had lost her fear of displeasing mrs. Albury by quitting her from conceiving of a still greater of worrying by remaining with her Edgar anxious both to understand and to discuss this new connection hovered about the party with unremitting vigilance but though he could not either look at or listen to mrs. Burlington without admiring her his admiration was neither free from censure of himself nor terror for her companion he saw her far more beautiful than prudent more amiable than dignified the females in her group were few and little worthy notice the males appeared to a man without disguise though not without restraint her lovers and though no one seem selected no one seem to despise she appeared to admit their divorce with little consideration neither modestly retiring from power nor vainly displeying it Camilla quitted not this enchantress till summoned by mrs. Albury who seeing herself again from the arrival of lady Alothea some more without any distinguished party that lady drawing her into her circle all people of any consequence not already attached by mrs. Burlington grew sick of the ball and the rooms and impatient to return home Camilla in retiring presented folded in a paper the guinea half guinea and silver she had borrowed of Sir Sedley who received it without presuming at any contest though not after what he had heard from mrs. Albury without reluctance Edgar watched the instant when Camilla moved from the gay group but mrs. Mitten watched it also and approaching her more speedily because with less embarrassment seized her arm before he could reach her and before he could with any discretion glide her to the other side mrs. Dennell was there well now young ladies said mrs. Mitten I'm going to tell you a secret do you know for all I call myself mrs. I'm single oh dear Lord exclaimed mrs. Dennell and for all you're so old so old miss who told you I was so old I am not so very old as you may think me I'm no particular age I assure you why what means you think of that well I don't know only you don't look very young I can't help that mrs. Dennell perhaps you may look young yourself one of these days people can't always stand still just in a particular minute why how old now do you take me to be come be sincere ma sir I can't tell I only thought to as an old woman an old woman Lord my dear people would laugh to hear you you don't know what an old woman is why it's been a cripple and blind and deaf and dumb and slavering and without a tooth pray how am I like all that well name sir I don't know only I thought by the look of your face you must be monstrous old Lord I can't think what you've got in your head mrs. Dennell I never heard as much before since I was born why the reason I'm called mrs. is not because of that I assure you but because I don't mind to be taken for a young widow and account everyone likes a young widow and if one is called mrs. people being so soon to think one and old made that it's quite disagreeable this discourse brought them to the carriage End of Chapter 10 Recording by Linda Velwest