“Oh, yes!” cried the king, laughing “but I assure you she is of Baretti’s opinion herself; for I asked her if she thought it was her sister or her brother that betrayed her to her father?—­and she says her sister, she thinks.”

Poor Esther !-but I shall make her amends by what follows; for the queen, again addressing me, said—­ 306

“But to betray to a father is no crime-don’t you think so ?”

I agreed ; and plainly saw she thought Esther, if Esther it was, had only done right.

The king then went on, and when he had finished his narration the queen took her seat.  She made Mrs. Delany sit next her, and Miss Port brought her some tea.

“Miss Burney plays-but not to acknowledge it.”

The king, meanwhile, came to me again, and said,—­“Are you musical?” “Not a performer, sir.”

Then, going from me to the queen, he cried,—­“She does not play.”  I did not hear what the queen answered — she spoke in a low voice, and seemed much out of spirits.

They now talked together a little while, about the Princess Elizabeth, and the king mentioned having had a very promising account from her physician, Sir George Baker and the queen soon brightened up.

The king then returned to me and said,-

“Are you sure you never play?—­never touch the keys at all.”

“Never to acknowledge it, sir.”

“Oh ! that’s it ! " cried he; and flying to the queen, cried, “She does play-but not to acknowledge it!”

I was now in a most horrible panic once more ; pushed so very home, I could answer no other than I did, for these categorical questions almost constrain categorical answers; and here, at Windsor, it seems an absolute point that whatever they ask must be told, and whatever they desire must be done.  Think but, then, of my consternation, in expecting their commands to perform!  My dear father, pity me!

The eager air with which he returned to me fully explained what was to follow.  I hastily, therefore, spoke first, in order to stop him, crying-” I never, sir, played to anybody but myself!—­ never!”

“No ?” cried he, looking incredulous; “what, not to

“Not even to me, sir! " cried my kind Mrs. Delany, who saw what was threatening me.

“No?—­are you sure?” cried he, disappointed; “but—­but you’ll—­”

“I have never, sir,” cried I, very earnestly, “played in my 307

life, but when I could hear nobody else-quite alone, and from a mere love of any musical sounds.”

He repeated all this to the queen, whose answers I never heard; but when he once more came back, with a face that looked unwilling to give it up, in my fright I had recourse to dumb show, and raised my hands in a supplicating fold, with a most begging countenance to be excused.  This, luckily, succeeded; he understood me very readily, and laughed a little, but made a sort of desisting, or rather complying, little bow, and said no more about it.