Evelina, Or, the History of a Young Lady's Entrance into the World

VELINA IN CONTINUATION Monday Morning, April 18.

MRS. MIRVAN has just communicated to me an anecdote concerning Lord
Orville, which has much surprised, half pleased, and half pained me.

While they were sitting together during the opera, he told her that
he had been greatly concerned at the impertinence which the young
lady under her protection had suffered from Mr. Lovel; but that he
had the pleasure of assuring her, she had no future disturbance to
apprehend from him.

Mrs. Mirvan, with great eagerness, begged he would explain himself;
and said she hoped he had not thought so insignificant an affair
worthy his serious attention.

"There is nothing," answered he, "which requires more immediate notice
than impertinence, for it ever encroaches when it is tolerated." He
then added, that he believed he ought to apologize for the liberty
he had taken in interfering; but that, as he regarded himself in the
light of a party concerned, from having had the honour of dancing
with Miss Anville, he could not possibly reconcile to himself a
patient neutrality.

He then proceeded to tell her, that he had waited upon Mr. Lovel the
morning after the play; that the visit had proved an amicable one,
but the particulars were neither entertaining nor necessary: he only
assured her, Miss Anville might be perfectly easy, since Mr. Lovel
had engaged his honour never more to mention, or even to hint at what
had passed at Mrs. Stanley's assembly.

Mrs. Mirvan expressed her satisfaction at this conclusion, and thanked
him for his polite attention to her young friend.

"It would be needless," said he, "to request that this affair may
never transpire, since Mrs. Mirvan cannot but see the necessity of
keeping it inviolably secret; but I thought it incumbent upon me,
as the young lady is under your protection, to assure both you and
her of Mr. Lovel's future respect."

Had I known of this visit previous to Lord Orville's making it, what
dreadful uneasiness would it have cost me! Yet that he should so much
interest himself in securing me from offence, gives me, I must own,
an internal pleasure, greater than I can express; for I feared he
had too contemptuous an opinion of me, to take any trouble upon my
account. Though, after all, this interference might rather be to
satisfy his own delicacy, than from thinking well of me.

But how cool, how quiet is true courage! Who, from seeing Lord Orville
at the play, would have imagined his resentment would have hazarded
his life? yet his displeasure was evident, though his real bravery and
his politeness equally guarded him from entering into any discussion
in our presence.

Madame Duval, as I expected, was most terribly angry yesterday:
she scolded me for, I believe, two hours, on account of having
left her; and protested she had been so much surprised at my going,
without giving her time to answer, that she hardly knew whether she
was awake or asleep. But she assured me that if ever I did so again,
she would never more take me into public. And she expressed an equal
degree of displeasure against Sir Clement, because he had not even
spoken to her, and because he was always of the Captain's side in
an argument. The Captain, as bound in honour, warmly defended him,
and then followed a dispute in the usual style.

After dinner, Mrs. Mirvan introduced the subject of our leaving
London. Madame Duval said she would stay a month or two longer. The
Captain told her she was welcome, but that he and his family should
go into the country on Tuesday morning.

A most disagreeable scene followed. Madame Duval insisted upon keeping
me with her; but Mrs. Mirvan said, that as I was actually engaged on
a visit to Lady Howard, who had only consented to my leaving her for
a few days, she could not think of returning without me.

Perhaps, if the Captain had not interfered, the good-breeding and
mildness of Mrs. Mirvan might have had some effect upon Madame Duval;
but he passes no opportunity of provoking her; and therefore made
so many gross and rude speeches, all of which she retorted, that,
in conclusion, she vowed she would sooner go to law in right of her
relationship, than that I should be taken away from her.

I heard this account from Mrs. Mirvan, who was so kindly considerate
as to give me a pretence for quitting the room as soon as this
dispute began, lest Madame Duval should refer to me, and insist on
my obedience.

The final result of the conversation was, that, to soften matters for
the present, Madame Duval should make one in the party to Howard Grove,
whither we are positively to go next Wednesday. And though we are
none of us satisfied with this plan, we know not how to form a better.

Mrs. Mirvan is now writing to Lady Howard, to excuse bringing this
unexpected guest, and prevent the disagreeable surprise which must
otherwise attend her reception. This dear lady seems eternally studying
my happiness and advantage.

To-night we go to the Pantheon, which is the last diversion we shall
partake of in London; for to-morrow- * * * * *

This moment, my dearest Sir, I have received your kind letter.

If you thought us too dissipated the first week, I almost fear to
know what you will think of us this second;-however, the Pantheon this
evening will probably be the last public place which I shall ever see.

The assurance of your support and protection in regard to Madame Duval,
though what I never doubted, excites my utmost gratitude. How,
indeed, cherished under your roof, the happy object of your
constant indulgence, how could I have borne to become the slave of
her tyrannical humours? -Pardon me that I speak so hardly of her;
but whenever the idea of passing my days with her occurs to me, the
comparison which naturally follows, takes from me all that forbearance
which, I believe, I owe her.

You are already displeased with Sir Clement: to be sure, then, his
behaviour after the opera will not make his peace with you. Indeed
the more I reflect upon it, the more angry I am. I was entirely in
his power, and it was cruel in him to cause me so much terror.

O, my dearest Sir, were I but worthy the prayers and the wishes
you offer for me, the utmost ambition of my heart would be fully
satisfied! but I greatly fear you will find me, now that I am out of
the reach of your assisting prudence, more weak and imperfect than
you could have expected.

I have not now time to write another word, for I must immediately
hasten to dress for the evening.