“Why they say,” answered he, “that it’s an account of a young lady’s first entrance into company, and of the scrapes she gets into; and they say there’s a great deal of character in it, but I have not cared to look in it, because the name is so foolish--’Evelina’!”

“Why foolish, sir?” cried Dr. Johnson.  “Where’s the folly of it?”

“Why, I won’t say much for the name myself,” said Mrs. Thrale, “to those who don’t know the reason of it, which I found out, but which nobody else seems to know.”  She then explained the name from Evelyn, according to my own meaning.

“Well,” said Dr. Johnson, " if that was the reason, it is a very good one.”

“Why, have you had the book here?” cried Mr. Lort, staring.

“Ay, indeed, have we,” said Mrs. Thrale; “I read it When I was last confined, and I laughed over it, and I cried over it!”

“O ho!” said Mr. Lort, “this is another thing!  If you have had it here, I will certainly read it.”

“Had it? ay,” returned she; “and Dr. Johnson, who would

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not look at it at first, was so caught by it when I put it in the coach with him, that he has sung its praises ever since,—­and he says Richardson would have been proud to have written it.”

“O ho! this is a good hearing,” cried Mr. Lort; “if Dr. Johnson can read it, I shall get it with all speed.”

“You need not go far for it,” said Mrs. Thrale, “for it’s now upon yonder table.”

I could sit still no longer; there was something so awkward, so uncommon, so strange in my then situation, that I wished myself a hundred miles off, and indeed, I had almost choked myself with the biscuit, for I could not for my life swallow it:  and so I got up, and, as Mr. Lort wen to the table to look for “Evelina,” I left the room, and was forced to call for water to wash down the biscuit, which literally stuck in my throat.

I heartily wished Mr. Lort at jerusalem.  I did not much like going back, but the moment I recovered breath, I resolved not to make bad worse by staying longer away:  but at the door of the room, I met Mrs. Thrale, who, asking me if I would have some water, took me into a back room, and burst into a hearty fit of laughter.

“This is very good sport,” cried she; “the man is as innocent about the matter as a child, and we shall hear what he says about it to-morrow morning at breakfast.  I made a sign to Dr. Jonnson and Seward not to tell him.”

she found I was not in a humour to think it such good sport as she did, she grew more serious,. and taking my hand kindly said, “May you never, Miss Burney, know any other pain than that of hearing yourself praised! and I am sure that you must often feel.”