as Lord Orville’s, something like solicitude in my concerns? such at least was the interpretation I involuntarily made upon again seeing him.
With a politeness to which I have been sometime very little used, he apologized for returning; and then inquired after the health of Mrs. Mirvan, and the rest of the Howard Grove family. The flattering conjecture which I have just acknowledged, had so wonderfully restored my spirits, that I believe I never answered him so readily, and with so little constraint. Very short, however, was the duration of this conversation; for we were soon most disagreeably interrupted.
The Miss Branghtons, though they saw almost immediately the characters of the women to whom I had so unfortunately applied, were, nevertheless, so weak and foolish, as merely to titter at their behaviour. As to Madame Duval, she was for some time so strangely imposed upon, that she thought they were two real fine ladies. Indeed, it is wonderful to see how easily and how frequently she is deceived. Our disturbance, however, arose from young Brown, who was now between the two women, by whom his arms were absolutely pinioned to his sides: for a few minutes his complaints had been only murmured: but he now called out aloud, “Goodness, Ladies, you hurt me like any thing! why, I can’t walk at all, if you keep pinching my arms so!”
This speech raised a loud laugh in the women, and redoubled the tittering of the Miss Branghtons. For my own part, I was most cruelly confused: while the countenance of Lord Orville manifested a sort of indignant astonishment; and, from that moment, he spoke to me no more till he took leave.
Madame Duval, who now began to suspect her company, proposed our taking the first box we saw empty, bespeaking a supper, and waiting till Mr. Branghton should find us.
Miss Polly mentioned one she had remarked, to which we all turned. Madame Duval instantly seated herself; and the two bold women, forcing the frightened Mr. Brown to go between them, followed her example.
Lord Orville, with an air of gravity that wounded my very soul, then wished me good night. I said not a word; but my face, if it had any connection with my heart, must have looked melancholy indeed: and so I have some reason to believe it did; for he added with much more softness, though no less dignity, “Will Miss Anville allow me to ask her address, and to pay my respects to her before I leave town?”
O how I changed colour at this unexpected request! — yet, what was the mortification I suffered in answering, “My Lord, I am — in Holborn!”
He then bowed and left us.
What, what can he think of this adventure! how strangely how cruelly have all appearances turned against me! Had I been blessed with any presence of mind, I should instantly have explained to him the accident which occasioned my being in such terrible company:— but I have none!
As to the rest of the evening, I cannot relate the particulars of what passed; for, to you, I only write of what I think; and I can think of nothing but this unfortunate, this disgraceful meeting. These two wretched women continued to torment us all, but especially poor Mr. Brown, who seemed to afford them uncommon diversion, till we were discovered by Mr. Branghton, who very soon found means to release us from their persecutions, by frightening them away. We stayed but a short time after they left us, which was all employed in explanation.
Whatever may be the construction which Lord Orville may put upon this affair, to me it cannot fail of being unfavourable; to be seen — gracious Heaven! to be seen in company with two women of such character! — How vainly, how proudly have I wished to avoid meeting him when only with the Branghtons and Madame Duval; — but now, how joyful should I be had he seen me to no greater disadvantage! — Holborn, too! what a direction! he who had always — but I will not torment you, my dearest Sir, with any more of my mortifying conjectures and apprehensions: perhaps he may call — and then I shall have an opportunity of explaining to him all the most shocking part of the adventure. And yet, as I did not tell him at whose house I lived, he may not be able to discover me; I merely said in Holborn; and he, who I suppose saw my embarrassment, forbore to ask any other direction.
Well, I must take my chance!
Yet let me, in the justice to Lord Orville, and in justice to the high opinion I have always entertained of his honour and delicacy — let me observe the difference of his behaviour, when nearly in the same situation, to that of Sir Clement Willoughby. He had, at least, equal cause to depreciate me in his opinion, and to mortify and sink me in my own; but far different was his conduct:— perplexed, indeed, he looked, and much surprised:— but it was benevolently, not with insolence. I am even inclined to think, that he could not see a young creature whom he had so lately known in a higher sphere, appear so suddenly, so strangely, so disgracefully altered in her situation, without some pity and concern. But whatever might be his doubts and suspicions, far from suffering them to influence his behaviour, he spoke, he looked with the same politeness and attention with which he had always honoured me when countenanced by Mrs. Mirvan.
Once again, let me drop this subject.
In every mortification, every disturbance, how grateful to my heart, how sweet to my recollection, is the certainty of your never-failing tenderness, sympathy and protection! Oh, Sir, could I upon this subject, could I write as I feel — how animated would be the language of your devoted
EVELINA.
LETTER 53
EVELINA IN CONTINUATION
Holborn, July 1st.
Listless, uneasy, and without either spirit or courage to employ myself, from the time I had finished my last letter, I indolently seated myself at the window, where, while I waited Madame Duval’s summons to breakfast, I perceived, among the carriages which passed by, a coronet-coach, and in a few minutes, from the window of it, Lord Orville! I instantly retreated, but not I believe, unseen; for the coach immediately drove up to our door.
Indeed, my dear Sir, I must own I was greatly agitated; the idea of receiving Lord Orville by myself — the knowledge that his visit was entirely to me — the wish of explaining the unfortunate adventure of yesterday — and the mortification of my present circumstances — all these thoughts, occurring to me nearly at the same time, occasioned me more anxiety, confusion, and perplexity, than I can possibly express.
I believe he meant to sent up his name; but the maid, unused to such a ceremony, forgot it by the way, and only told me, that a great Lord was below, and desired to see me; and, the next moment, he appeared himself.
If, formerly, when in the circle of high life, and accustomed to its manners, I so much admired and distinguished the grace, the elegance of Lord Orville, think Sir, how they must strike me now — now, when far removed from that splendid circle, I live with those to whom even civility is unknown, and decorum a stranger!
I am sure I received him very awkwardly: depressed by a situation so disagreeable — could I do otherwise? When his first enquiries were made, “I think myself very fortunate,” he said, “in meeting with Miss Anville at home, and still more so in finding her disengaged.”
I only courtsied. He then talked of Mrs. Mirvan, asked how long I had been in town, and other such general questions, which happily gave me time to recover from my embarrassment. After which he said, “If Miss Anville will allow me the honour of sitting by her a few minutes (for we were both standing) I will venture to tell her the motive which, next to enquiring after her health, has prompted me to wait on her thus early.”
We were then both seated; and, after a short pause, he said, “How to apologize for so great a liberty as I am upon the point of taking, I know not; — shall I, therefore, rely wholly upon your goodness, and not apologize at all?”
I only bowed.
“I should be extremely sorry to appear impertinent — yet hardly know how to avoid it.”
“Impertinent! O, my Lord,” cried I, eagerly, “that, I am sure, is impossible!”
“You are very good,” answered