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know the author!  I have also heard, by the means of Charles,(45) that other persons have declared they will find him out!

    Fanny Burney interviews her publisher.

This intelligence determined me upon going myself to Mr. Lowndes, and discovering what sort of answers he made to such curious inquirers as I found were likely to address him.  But as I did not dare trust myself to speak, for I felt that I should not be able to act my part well, I asked my mother to accompany me.  We introduced ourselves by buying the book, for which I had a commission from Mrs. G—.  Fortunately Mr. Lowndes himself was in the shop; as we found by his air of consequence and authority, as well as his age; for I never saw him before.

The moment he had given my mother the book, she asked him if he could tell her who wrote it.

“No,” he answered; “I don’t know myself.”

“Pho, pho,” said she, “you mayn’t choose to tell, but you must know.”

“I don’t indeed, ma’am,” answered he “I have no honour in keeping the secret, for I have never been trusted.  All I know of the matter is, that it is a gentleman of the other end of the town.”

My mother made a thousand other inquiries, to which his answers were to the following effect:  that for a great while, he did not know if it was a man or a woman; but now, he knew that much, and that he was a master of his subject, and well versed in the manners of the times.

“For some time,” continued he, “I thought it had been Horace Walpole’s; for he once published a book in this snug manner; but I don’t think it is now.  I have often people come to inquire of me who it is; but I suppose he will come Out soon, and then when the rest of the world knows it, I shall.  Servants often come for it from the other end of the town, and I have asked them divers questions myself, to see if I could get at the author but I never got any satisfaction.”

Just before we came away, upon my mother’s still further pressing him, he said, with a most important face,

“Why, to tell you the truth, madam, I have been informed

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that it is a piece of real secret history ; and, in that case, it will never be known.”

This was too much for me — I grinned irresistibly, and was obliged to look out at the shop-door till we came away.

How many ridiculous things have I heard upon this subject!  I hope that next, some particular family will be fixed upon, to whom this secret history must belong!  However, I am delighted to find myself so safe.

    Conversations with MRs.  Thrale and Dr. Johnson.

Streatham, Sunday, Aug. 23—­I know not how to express the fullness of my contentment at this sweet place.  All my best expectations are exceeded, and you know they were not very moderate.  If, when my dear father comes, Susan and Mr. Crisp were to come too, I believe it would require at least a day’s pondering to enable me to form another wish.