I could not immediately go on, and it is now long since I have written at all; but I will go back to this afflicting theme, which I can now better bear.

Mr. Langton was, I believe, a quarter of an hour in the room before I suspected he meant to speak to me, never looking near me.  At last he said—­

“This poor man, I understand, ma’am, desired yesterday to see you.”

“My understanding that, sir, brought me here to-day.”

“Poor man! it is a pity he did not know himself better, and that you should have had this trouble.”

288

“Trouble!” cried I; “I would have come a hundred times to see him the hundredth and first!”

“He hopes, now, you will excuse him ; he is very sorry not to see you; but he desired me to come and speak to you myself, and tell you he hopes you will excuse him, for he feels himself too weak for such an interview.”

I hastily got up, left him my most affectionate respects, and every good wish I could half utter, and ran back to the coach.  Ah, my Susy!  I have never been to Bolt-court since!  I then drove to poor Miss Strange,(187) to make inquiries of the maid but Andrew ran out to the coach door, and told me all hope was at an end.  In short, the next day was fatal to both !-the same day!

December 20.-This day was the ever-honoured, ever-lamented Dr. Johnson committed to the earth.  Oh, how sad a day to me!  My father attended, and so did Charles.(188) I could not keep my eyes dry all day; nor can I now, in the recollecting it; but let me pass over what to mourn Is now so vain!

December 30.—­In the evening I went to Mrs. Chapone.  I was late, on account of the coach, and all her party was assembled.  This was the first time I had seen any of them, except Mrs. Ord, since last spring.  I was received with the utmost kindness by them all, but chiefly by Mrs. Chapone herself, who has really, I believe, a sincere regard for me.  I had talk with all of them, except Mrs. Levison, with whom I have merely a courtesying acquaintance.  But I was very sad within; the loss of dear Dr. Johnson—­the flight of Mrs. Thrale, the death of poor Miss Kitty Cambridge, and of poor, good Miss Strange,—­all these home and bosom strokes, which had all struck me since my last meeting this society, were revolving in my mind the whole time I stayed.

Sir Lucas Pepys talked to me a great deal of Mrs. Thrale, and read me a letter from her, which seems to shew her gay and happy.  I hope it shews not false colours.  No one else named her — but poor Dr. Johnson was discussed repeatedly.  How melancholy will all these circumstances render these once so pleasant meetings.

(153) “Memoirs of Dr. Burney,” vol. ii. p. 110.

(154) The physician, afterwards Sir Lucas Pepys.-Ed.

(155) A character in “Cecilia."-Ed.

(156) The master of the ceremonies.

(157) Philip Metcalf, elected member of Parliament for Horsham, together with Mr. Crutchley, in 1784.-Ed.