The first subject started was the Opera, and all joined in the praise of Pacchierotti.(84) Mrs. Sheridan declared she could not hear him without tears, and that he was the first Italian singer who ever affected her to such a degree.

Then they talked of the intended marriage of the Duke of Dorset, to Miss Cumberland, and many ridiculous anecdotes were related.  The conversation naturally fell upon Mr. Cumberland(85), and he was finely cut up!

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“What a man is that! ’ said Mrs. Cholmondeley:  “I Cannot bear him—­so querulous, so dissatisfied, so determined to like nobody, and nothing but himself!”

After this, Miss More(86) was mentioned and I was asked what I thought of her?

“Don’t be formal with me if you are, I sha’n’t like you!”

“I have no hope that you will any way!”

“Oh, fie! fie! but as to Miss More—­I don’t like her at all:  that is, I detest her!  She does nothing but flatter and fawn; and then she thinks ill of nobody.  Oh, there’s no supporting the company of professed flatterers.  She gives me such doses of it, that I cannot endure her; but I always sit still and make no answer, but receive it as if I thought it my due:  that is the only way to quiet her.(87) She is really detestable.  I hope, Miss Burney, you don’t think I admire all geniuses?  The only person I flatter,” continued she, “is Garrick; and he likes it so much, that it pays one by the spirits it gives him.  Other people that I like, I dare not flatter.”

A rat-tat-tat-tat ensued, and the Earl of Harcourt was announced.  When he had paid his compliments to Mrs. Cholmondeley, speaking of the lady from whose house he was just come, he said,

“Mrs. Vesey(88) ’Is vastly agreeable, but her fear of ceremony is really troublesome ; for her eagerness to break a circle is such, that she insists upon everybody’s sitting with their backs one to another ; that is, the chairs are drawn into little parties of three together, in a confused manner, all over the room.”

“Why, then,” said my father, “they may have the pleasure of caballing and cutting up one another, even in the same room.”

“Oh, I like the notion of all things,” cried Mrs. Cholmondeley, “I shall certainly adopt it

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then she drew her chair into the middle of our circle.  Lord Harcourt turned his round, and his back to most of us, and my father did the same.  You can’t imagin.e a more absurd sight.

Just then the door opened, and Mr. Sheridan entered.

Was I not in luck?  Not that I believe the meeting was accidental; but I had more wished to meet him and his wife than any people I know not.

I could not endure my ridiculous situation, but replaced myself in an orderly manner immediately.  Mr. Sheridan stared at the mall, and Mrs. Cholmondeley said she intended it as a hint for a comedy.

Mr. Sheridan has a very fine figure, and a good though I don’t think a handsome face.  He is tall, and very upright, and his appearance and address are at once manly and fashionable, without the smallest tincture of foppery or modish graces.  In short, I like him vastly, and think him every way worthy his utiful companion.