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

ETTER LXII.

EVELINA TO THE REV. MR. VILLARS. Bristol Hotwells, Sept. 12th.

THE first fortnight that I passed here was so quiet, so serene, that
it gave me reason to expect a settled calm during my stay; but if I
may now judge of the time to come, by the present state of my mind,
the calm will be succeeded by a storm, of which I dread the violence!

This morning, in my way to the pump-room with Mrs. Selwyn, we were
both very much incommoded by three gentlemen, who were sauntering by
the side of the Avon, laughing and talking very loud, and lounging so
disagreeably, that we knew not how to pass them. They all three fixed
their eyes very boldly upon me, alternately looking under my hat,
and whispering one another. Mrs. Selwyn assumed an air of uncommon
sternness, and said, "You will please, gentlemen, either to proceed
yourselves, or to suffer us."

"Oh! Ma'am," cried one of them, "we will suffer you with the greatest
pleasure in life."

"You will suffer us both," answered she, "or I am much mistaken:
you had better, therefore, make way quietly; for I should be sorry
to give my servant the trouble of teaching you better manners."

Her commanding air struck them, yet they all chose to laugh; and one
of them wished the fellow would begin his lesson, that he might have
the pleasure of rolling him into the Avon; while another, advancing to
me with a freedom which made me start, said, "By my soul, I did not
know you!-but I am sure I cannot be mistaken;-had not I the honour
of seeing you once at the Pantheon?"

I then recollected the nobleman, who, at that place, had so much
embarrassed me. I courtsied without speaking. They all bowed, and
making, though in a very easy manner, an apology to Mrs. Selwyn,
they suffered us to pass on, but chose to accompany us.

"And where," continued this Lord, "can you so long have hid
yourself? do you know I have been in search of you this age? I could
neither find you out, nor hear of you: not a creature could inform me
what was become of you. I cannot imagine where you could be immured. I
was at two or three public places every night, in hopes of meeting
you. Pray, did you leave town?"

"Yes, my Lord."

"So early in the season!-what could possibly induce you to go before
the birth-day?"

"I had nothing, my Lord, to do with the birth-day."

"By my soul, all the women who had, may rejoice you were away. Have
you been here any time?"

"Not above a fortnight, my Lord."

"A fortnight!-how unlucky that I did not meet you sooner! but I have
had a run of ill luck ever since I came. How long shall you stay?"

"Indeed, my Lord, I don't know."

"Six weeks, I hope; for I shall wish the place at the devil when
you go."

"Do you, then, flatter yourself, my Lord," said Mrs. Selwyn, who
had hitherto listened in silent contempt, "that you shall see such
a beautiful spot as this, when you visit the dominions of the devil?"

"Ha, ha, ha! Faith, my Lord," said one of his companions, who still
walked with us, though the other had taken leave, "the lady is rather
hard upon you."

"Not at all," answered Mrs. Selwyn; "for as I cannot doubt but his
Lordship's rank and interest will secure him a place there, it would
be reflecting on his understanding, to suppose he should not wish to
enlarge and beautify his dwelling."

Much as I was disgusted with this Lord, I must own Mrs. Selwyn's
severity rather surprised me: but you, who have so often observed
it, will not wonder she took so fair an opportunity of indulging
her humour.

"As to places," returned he, totally unmoved, "I am so indifferent
to them, that the devil take me if I care which way I go! objects,
indeed, I am not so easy about; and, therefore, I expect, that those
angels with whose beauty I am so much enraptured in this world, will
have the goodness to afford me some little consolation in the other."

"What, my Lord!" cried Mrs. Selwyn, "would you wish to degrade the
habitation of your friend, by admitting into it the insipid company
of the upper regions?"

"What do you do with yourself this evening?" said his Lordship,
turning to me.

"I shall be at home, my Lord."

"O, -e;-propos,-where are you?"

"Young ladies, my Lord," said Mrs. Selwyn, "are no where."

"Prithee," whispered his Lordship, "is that queer woman your mother?"

Good Heavens, Sir, what words for such a question!

"No, my Lord."

"Your maiden aunt then?"

"No."

"Whoever she is, I wish she would mind her own affairs: I don't know
what the devil a woman lives for after thirty: she is only in other
folk's way. Shall you be at the assembly?"

"I believe not, my Lord."

"No!-why then, how in the world can you contrive to pass your time?"

"In a manner which your Lordship will think very extraordinary,"
cried Mrs. Selwyn, "for the young lady reads."

"Ha, ha, ha! Egad, my Lord," cried the facetious companion, "you are
got into bad hands."

"You had better, Ma'am," answered he, "attack Jack Coverley here,
for you will make nothing of me."

"Of you, my Lord," cried she, "Heaven forbid I should ever entertain
so idle an expectation! I only talk, like a silly woman, for the sake
of talking; but I have by no means so low an opinion of your Lordship,
as to suppose you vulnerable to censure."

"Do, pray, Ma'am," cried he, "turn to Jack Coverley; he's the very
man for you;-he'd be a wit himself if he was not too modest."

"Prithee, my Lord, be quiet," returned the other; "if the lady is
contented to bestow all her favours upon you, why should you make
such a point of my going snacks?"

"Don't be apprehensive, gentlemen," said Mrs. Selwyn, drily, "I am not
romantic;-I have not the least design of doing good to either of you."

"Have not you been ill since I saw you?" said his Lordship, again
addressing himself to me.

"Yes, my Lord."

"I thought so; you are paler than you was, and I suppose that's the
reason I did not recollect you sooner."

"Has not your Lordship too much gallantry," cried Mrs. Selwyn,
"to discover a young lady's illness by her looks?"

"The devil a word can I speak for that woman," said he, in a low voice;
"do, prithee, Jack, take her in hand."

"Excuse me, my Lord," answered Mr. Coverley.

"When shall I see you again?" continued his Lordship; "do you go to
the pump-room every morning?"

"No, my Lord."

"Do you ride out?"

"No, my Lord."

Just then we arrived at the pump-room, and an end was put to our
conversation, if it is not an abuse of words to give such a term to
a string of rude questions and free compliments.

He had not opportunity to say much more to me, as Mrs. Selwyn joined
a large party, and I walked home between two ladies. He had, however,
the curiosity to see us to the door.

Mrs. Selwyn was very eager to know how I had made acquaintance with
this nobleman, whose manners so evidently announced the character of
a confirmed libertine. I could give her very little satisfaction, as
I was ignorant even of his name: but, in the afternoon, Mr. Ridgeway,
the apothecary, gave us very ample information.

As his person was easily described, for he is remarkably tall,
Mr. Ridgeway told us he was Lord Merton, a nobleman who is but lately
come to his title, though he has already dissipated more than half his
fortune; a professed admirer of beauty, but a man of most licentious
character; that among men, his companions consisted chiefly of gamblers
and jockeys, and among women he was rarely admitted.

"Well, Miss Anville," said Mrs. Selwyn, "I am glad I was not more
civil to him. You may depend upon me for keeping him at a distance."

"O, Madam," said Mr. Ridgeway, "he may now be admitted any where,
for he is going to reform."

"Has he, under that notion, persuaded any fool to marry him?"

"Not yet, Madam, but a marriage is expected to take place shortly:
it has been some time in agitation; but the friends of the lady
have obliged her to wait till she is of age: however, her brother,
who has chiefly opposed the match, now that she is near being at her
own disposal, is tolerably quiet. She is very pretty, and will have
a large fortune. We expect her at the Wells every day."

"What is her name?" said Mrs. Selwyn.

"Larpent," answered he: "Lady Louisa Larpent, sister of Lord Orville."

"Lord Orville!" repeated I, all amazement.

"Yes, Ma'am; his Lordship is coming with her. I have had certain
information. They are to be at the Honourable Mrs. Beaumont's. She is
a relation of my Lord's, and has a very fine house upon Clifton Hill."

His Lordship is coming with her! -Good God, what an emotion did those
words give me! How strange, my dear Sir, that, just at this time, he
should visit Bristol! It will be impossible for me to avoid seeing him,
as Mrs. Selwyn is very well acquainted with Mrs. Beaumont. Indeed,
I have had an escape in not being under the same roof with him, for
Mrs. Beaumont invited us to her house immediately upon our arrival;
but the inconvenience of being so distant from the pump-room made
Mrs. Selwyn decline her civility.

Oh that the first meeting were over!-or that I could quit Bristol
without seeing him!-inexpressibly do I dread an interview! Should
the same impertinent freedom be expressed by his looks, which
dictated this cruel letter, I shall not know how to endure either
him or myself. Had I but returned it, I should be easier, because
my sentiments of it would then be known to him; but now, he can only
gather them from my behaviour; and I tremble lest he should mistake my
indignation for confusion!-lest he should misconstrue my reserve into
embarrassment!-for how, my dearest Sir, how shall I be able totally
to divest myself of the respect with which I have been used to think
of him?-the pleasure with which I have been used to see him?

Surely he, as well as I, must recollect the letter at the moment
of our meeting; and he will, probably, mean to gather my thoughts
of it from my looks;-oh that they could but convey to him my real
detestation of impertinence and vanity! then would he see how much
he had mistaken my disposition when he imagined them my due.

There was a time when the very idea that such a man as Lord Merton
should ever be connected with Lord Orville would have both surprised
and shocked me; and even yet I am pleased to hear of his repugnance
to the marriage.

But how strange, that a man of so abandoned a character should be
the choice of a sister of Lord Orville! and how strange, that, almost
at the moment of the union, he should be so importunate in gallantry
to another woman! What a world is this we live in! how corrupt! how
degenerate! well might I be contented to see no more of it! If I
find that the eyes of Lord Orville agree with his pen,-I shall then
think, that of all mankind, the only virtuous individual resides at
Berry Hill.