“Pray, ma’am, is this your daughter?”

“Yes, sir.” 113

“O! this is Evelina, is it?”

“No, sir,” cried I, staring at him, and glad none of you were in the way to say “Yes.”

“No?” repeated he, incredulous; “is not your name Evelina, ma’am?”

“Dear, no, sir,” again quoth I, staring harder.

“Ma’am,” cried he, drily; “I beg your pardon!  I had understood your name was Evelina.”

Soon:  after, he went away.

And when he put down his card, who should it prove but Dr.
Franklin.(73) Was it not queer?

An evening at sir Joshua Reynolds’s:  A demonstrative
“Evelina” Enthusiast.

Now to this grand visit, which was become more tremendous than ever because of the pamphlet (74) business, and I felt almost ashamed to see Sir JOShua, and could not but conclude he would think of it too.

My mother, who changed her mind, came with me.  My father promised to come before the Opera was half over.

We found the Miss Palmers alone.  We were, for near an hour, quite easy, chatty, and comfortable; no pointed speech was made, and no starer entered.  But when I asked the elder Miss Palmer if she would allow me to look at some of her drawings, she said,

“Not unless you will let me see something of yours.”

“Of mine?” quoth I.  “Oh,!  I have nothing to show.”

 “I am sure you have; you must have.”

“No, indeed; I don’t draw at all.”

“Draw?  No, but I mean some of your writing.”

“Oh, I never write—­except letters.”

114

“Letters? those are the very things I want to see.”

“Oh, not such as you mean.”

" Oh now, don’t say so; I am sure you are about something and if you would but show me—­”

“No, no, I am about nothing—­I am quite out of conceit with writing.”  I had my thoughts full of the vile Warley.

“You out of conceit?” exclaimed she; “nay, then, if you are, who should be otherwise!”

just then, Mrs. and Miss Horneck were announced. you may suppose I thought directly of the one hundred and sixty miles(75)—­and may take it for granted I looked them very boldly in the face!  Mrs. Horneck seated herself by my mother.  Miss Palmer introduced me to her and her daughter, who seated herself next me; but not one word passed between us!

Mrs. Horneck, as I found in the course of the evening, is an exceedingly sensible, well-bred woman.  Her daughter is very beautiful ; but was low-spirited and silent during the whole visit.  She was, indeed, very unhappy, as Miss Palmer informed me, upon account of some ill news she had lately heard of the affairs of a gentleman to whom she is shortly to be married.

Not long after came a whole troop, consisting of Mr. Cholmondeley!—­perilous name!—­Miss Cholmondeley, and Miss Fanny Cholmondeley, his daughters, and Miss Forrest.  Mrs. Cholmondeley, I found, was engaged elsewhere, but soon expected.(76) Now here was a trick of Sir Joshua, to make me meet all these people.