“It would actually serve him right,” says she, “to make Dr. Delap and you strut at each side of me, one with a dagger, and the other with a mask, as tragedy and comedy.”
“I think, Miss Burney,” said the doctor, “you and I seem to stand in the same predicament. What shall we do for the Poor man? suppose we burn a play apiece?”
“Depend upon it,” said Mrs. Thrale, “he has heard, in town, that you are both to bring one out this season, and perhaps one of his own may be deferred on that account.”
On the announcement of the carriage, we went into the next room for our cloaks, where Mrs. Thrale and Mr. Cumberland were in deep conversation.
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“Oh, here’s Miss Burney! " said Mrs. Thrale aloud. Mr Cumberland turned round, but withdrew his eyes instantly; and I, determined not to interrupt them, made Miss Thrale walk away with me. In about ten minutes she left him and we all came home.
As soon as we were in the carriage,
“It has been,” said Mrs. Thrale, warmly, “all I could do not to affront Mr. Cumberland to-night!”
“Oh, I hope not cried I, “I would not have you for the world!”
" Why, I have refrained ; but with great difficulty.”
And then she told me the conversation she had just had with him. As soon as I made off, he said, with a spiteful tone of voice,
“Oh, that young lady is an author, I hear!”
“Yes,” answered Mrs. Thrale, “author of ‘Evelina.’”
“Humph,—I am told it has some humour!”
“Ay, indeed! Johnson says nothing like it has appeared for years!”
“So,” cried he, biting his lips, and waving uneasily in his chair, “so, so!”
" Yes,” continued she, " and Sir Joshua Reynolds told Mr. Thrale he would give fifty pounds to know the author!”
“So, so—oh, vastly well!” cried he, putting his hand on his forehead.
“Nay,” added she, “Burke himself sat up all night to finish it!”
This seemed quite too much for him; he put both his hands to his face, and waving backwards and forwards, said,
“Oh, vastly well!—this will do for anything!” with a tone as much as to say, Pray, no more!
Then Mrs. Thrale bid him good night, longing, she said, to call Miss Thrale first, and say, “So you won’t speak to my daughter?— why, she is no author.”
An amusing character: His views on many subjects.
October 20.-I must now have the honour to present to you a new acquaintance, who this day dined here.
Mr. B-y,(111) an Irish gentleman, late a commissary in Germany. He is between sixty and seventy, but means to pass for about thirty; gallant, complaisant, obsequious, and humble to the fair sex, for whom he has an awful reverence; but when
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not immediately addressing them, swaggering, blustering, puffing, and domineering. These are his two apparent characters; but the real man is worthy, moral, religious, though conceited and parading.