politeness so ungraciously.
When we were taking leave, my eyes accidentally meeting his, I could not but observe that his gravity equalled my own; for it had entirely taken place of the smiles and good humour with which he had met me.
“I am afraid this young lady,” said Mrs. Beaumont, “is too weak for another long walk till she is again rested.”
“If the ladies will trust to my driving,” said Lord Orville, “and are not afraid of a phaeton, mine shall be ready in a moment.”
“You are very good, my Lord, “said Mrs. Selwyn, “but my will is yet unsigned, and I don’t choose to venture in a phaeton with a young man while that is the case.”
“O,” cried Mrs. Beaumont, “you need not be afraid of my Lord Orville, for he is remarkably careful.”
“Well, Miss Anville,” answered she, “what say you?”
“Indeed,” cried I, “I had much rather walk.” But then, looking at Lord Orville, I perceived in his face a surprise so serious at my abrupt refusal, that I could not forbear adding, “for I should be sorry to occasion so much trouble.”
Lord Orville, brightening at these words, came forward, and pressed his offer in a manner not to be denied; — so the phaeton was ordered! And indeed, my dear Sir — I know not how it was; — but, from that moment, my coldness and reserve insensibly wore away! You must not be angry — it was my intention, nay, my endeavour, to support them with firmness: but when I formed the plan, I thought only of the letter — not of Lord Orville! — and how is it possible for resentmen to subsist without provocation? yet, believe me, my dearest Sir, had he sustained the part he began to act when he wrote this ever-to-be-regretted letter, your Evelina would have not forfeited her title to your esteem, by contentedly submitting to be treated with indignity.
We continued in the garden till the phaeton was ready. When we parted from Mrs. Beaumont, she repeated her invitation to Mrs. Selwyn to accept an apartment in her house; but the reason I have already mentioned made it be again declined.
Lord Orville drove very slow, and so cautiously, that, notwithstanding the height of the phaeton, fear would have been ridiculous. I supported no part in the conversation; but Mrs. Selwyn extremely well supplied the place of two. Lord Orville himself did not speak much; but the excellent sense and refined good-breeding which accompany every word he utters, give value and weight to whatever he says.
“I suppose, my Lord,” said Mrs. Selwyn, when we stopped at our lodgings, “you would have been extremely confused had we met any gentlemen who have the honour of knowing you.”
“If I had,” answered he, gallantly, “it would have been from mere compassion at their envy.”
“No, my Lord,” answered she, “it would have been from mere shame, that, in an age so daring, you alone should be such a coward as to forbear to frighten women.”
“O,” cried he, laughing, “when a man is in a fright for himself, the ladies cannot but be in security; for you have not had half the apprehension for the safety of your persons, that I have for that of my heart.” He then alighted, handed us out, took leave, and again mounting the phaeton, was out of sight in a minute.
“Certainly,” said Mrs. Selwyn, when he was gone, “there must have been some mistake in the birth of that young man; he was, undoubtedly, designed for the last age; for he is really polite!”
And now, my dear Sir, do not you think, according to the present situation of affairs, I may give up my resentment, without imprudence or impropriety? I hope you will not blame me. Indeed, had you, like me, seen his respectful behaviour, you would have been convinced of the impracticability of supporting any further indignation.
LETTER 64
EVELINA IN CONTINUATION
Bristol Hotwells, Sept. 19th.
Yesterday morning Mrs. Selwyn received a card from Mrs. Beaumont, to ask her to dine with her today: and another, to the same purpose, came to me. The invitation was accepted, and we are but just arrived from Clifton Hill.
We found Mrs. Beaumont alone in the parlour. I will write you the character of that lady, in the words of our satirical friend Mrs. Selwyn. “She is an absolute Court Calendar bigot; for, chancing herself to be born of a noble and ancient family, she thinks proper to be of opinion, that birth and virtue are one and the same thing. She has some good qualities; but they rather originate from pride than principle, as she piques herself upon being too high-born to be capable of an unworthy action, and thinks it incumbent upon her to support the dignity of her ancestry. Fortunately for the world in general, she has taken it into her head, that condescension is the most distinguishing virtue of high life; so that the same pride of family which renders others imperious, is with her the motive of affability. But her civility is too formal to be comfortable, and too mechanical to be flattering. That she does me the honour of so much notice, is merely owing to an accident, which, I am sure, is very painful to her remembrance; for it so happened, that I once did her some service, in regard to an apartment at Southampton; and I have since been informed, that, at the time she accepted my assistance, she thought I was a woman of quality; and I make no doubt but she was miserable when she discovered me to be a mere country gentlewoman: however, her nice notions of decorum have made her load me with favours ever since. But I am not much flattered by her civilities, as I am convinced I owe them neither to attachment nor gratitude; but solely to a desire of cancelling an obligation, which she cannot brook being under, to one whose name is no where to be found in the Court Calendar.”
You well know, my dear Sir, the delight this lady takes in giving way to her satirical humour.
Mrs. Beaumont received us very graciously, though she some what distressed me by the questions she asked concerning my family; — such as, Whether I was related to the Anvilles in the North? — Whether some of my name did not live in Lincolnshire? and many other inquiries, which much embarrassed me.
The conversation next turned upon the intended marriage in her family. She treated the subject with reserve; but it was evident she disapproved Lady Louisa’s choice. She spoke in terms of the highest esteem of Lord Orville, calling him, in Marmontel’s words, “Un jeune homme comme il y en a peu.”
I did not think this conversation very agreeably interrupted by the entrance of Mr. Lovel. Indeed I am heartily sorry he is now at the Hot Wells. He made his compliments with the most obsequious respect to Mrs. Beaumont, but took no sort of notice of any other person.
In a few minutes Lady Louisa Larpent made her appearance. The same manners prevailed; for, courtsying, with “I hope you are well, Ma’am,” to Mrs. Beaumont, she passed straight forward to her seat on the sofa; where, leaning her head on her hand, she cast her languishing eyes round the room, with a vacant stare, as if determined, though she looked, not to see who was in it.
Mr. Lovel, presently approaching her, with reverence the most profound, hoped her Ladyship was not indisposed.
“Mr. Lovel!” cried she, raising her head, “I declare I did not see you: have you been here long?”
“By my watch, Madam,” said he, “only five minutes — but by your Ladyship’s absence as many hours.”
“O! now I think of it,”
