'Tis a greatly preferable tale

I am woke by Docket explaining in undertones to Sophy about my morning chocolate. I stretch a little and smile to myself, then ope my eyes, and take the cup of chocolate with thanks.

My usual levée is similarly accompany’d by Docket’s instruction. Sophy looks somewhat over-aw’d.

I go breakfast: indeed I have a fine appetite this morn.

Afterwards I go to my desk, for I have a notion for a tale about a curs’d canal.

I am about this absorbing task when Sandy appears, and very shortly after, Celeste with coffee and curd-tartlets.

Sandy remarks that he dares say I have seen the papers and this story concerning the Bavarian lunatick, that was suppos’d to be being kept close at the Embassy while they arrang’d for him to be convey’d to a fine asylum run by some exceeding renown’d mad-doctor in those parts, escapt from his keepers, found a gun somewhere, and ran into the Park, firing wildly. To the great danger of a fair equestrienne, whose horse understandably bolt’d and only her skills prevent’d a dreadfull accident. But he has now been captur’d and will be dispatcht with great expedition to those that can treat his malady.

Sure, says I, I do not think I could have contriv’d a better tale myself. 'Tis altogether preferable to the truth.

Sandy frowns somewhat and says he cannot comprehend how I take the matter so calmly, when according to Eliza F- I was quite entirely overset at discovering that her girls had heard some smutty schoolgirl gossip about me.

Why, says I, a bullet is a bullet, and if it misses, 'tis indeed my lucky day, or perchance I am born to be hang’d, and once I found myself still a’horseback rather than flung to the ground, was more concern’d about poor Jezzie and bringing her to a quieter state of mind. But gossip – gossip is like a poisonous miasma that one does not know where it came from or where it may go to, and may injure those we most care for besides ourselves.

But, I say, indeed I was a little surpriz’d – for you know what a timid, indeed cow’rin tim’rous creature I am, an utter coward - to find myself in command of myself and even somewhat exhilarat’d.

Do you really think yourself a coward, dearest C-?

O, quite entirely!

I seem to recall a certain silly creature that was about matters of conveying secret messages even after she had sight’d a fellow that try’d to murder her.

I wriggle my shoulders. I could not entrust the matter to anyone else – I was not entire sure it was the Junker – and I kept well clear of where he was –

Sandy smiles and says that not all heroines are Jeanne d’Arc and lead armies.

O, poo, says I, you doubtless go about to flatter me for some purpose of your own. But to turn the subject –

I go about to sound out his opinion concerning the matter of Euphemia’s (and I daresay Seraphine’s) receipts, and how one might manage recompense from those that desir’d to have them for their own commerce.

He frowns and says he has some thoughts but supposes that Mr F- might have somewhat to say about such matters – are there not matters of patents and processes to do with iron that are something similar?

Sure, says I, was that not what that viper Mr E- was about when he was not in contemplation of child abduction? patents for some chymickal processes he had invent’d. But I am like to suppose that the Patent Office takes no interest in biscuits &C.

Also 'tis a most arduous and expensive process, says Sandy. I will go think about the matter.

He goes on to say that the publisher desires to leave any mention of revolution out of the title of my next novel, but would be entire content to call it The Sorceress.

Sure, says I, let us surprize 'em with revolutionary conspiracies. There are doubtless those that will find those a deal more horrid than any stregonera.

And offers most agreeable terms.

Most excellent! But, my dear, 'tis a while since I saw you or Milord except in company: is all well between you?

Oh, quite exceedingly, says Sandy, and blushes. Sure, he goes on with some rapidity, he finds it answers better than he suppos’d, that they go about in company together, and that there is all this bustle at R- House, somehow it shakes them up.

I smile at him and he blushes more. He then says he should no longer linger here exchanging idle gossip and should be about his business. (I refrain from saying that I apprehend that Milord is taking good care of that.)

'Tis very pleasing to hear that the publishers offer agreeable terms for my new novel. 'Twill go towards Dolly Mutton’s excellent enterprize.

I mind me that 'tis some while since I have been about making calls and that I daresay I should go undertake that.

Sure, the ladies of the philanthropick set are most eager to hear all about this most unexpect’d marriage of Lady J-: is’t really true that they met so many years ago, and he but a poor young lieutenant in the Navy that was in no position to aspire?

Indeed, says I, there was even some slight scandal at the time over the preference they manifest’d for one another’s company. And now he is not only an Admiral, but has fallen heir to a very tidy property. Is it not entirely charming? 'Tis a great pity they must be separat’d now he returns to his command, but – provid’d there is nothing adverse happens in those parts – there is a likelihood she may journey out to join him.

Sure, I add, I should be most entire happy to provide them with the hospitality of my villa near Naples. Tho’ I am like to suppose that the dear Contessa di S- may make a like offer.

There is a deal of interest in the Contessa – now the Season is truly begun, she purposes to hold a ridotto in quite entire the Neapolitan style, which is much discusst. I describe the fine ridotti she gave while I was in Naples.

I repeat all this some several times as I make my rounds.

'Tis quite entirely a relief to call upon Little V at M- House, who expresses herself most pleas’d to see me, and wishes more would come call: as she cannot go about while she is in mourning, she finds she lacks society.

I ask how was the visit to Q-, and she says she thinks she contriv’d adequate, but of course 'twas a deal quieter than usual. Does not Lady J- look exceeding well? Sure matrimony suits her quite remarkable!

Indeed she is looking very well. I daresay 'tis too early yet to know whether she has happy news. And how do you get on, my dear?

O, exceedingly, she says, very little queasiness at present and feels very well in herself. She goes about to take a grip on household business, sure there is a deal to learn about it, and adds, sighing, that she dares say she is too young to command the proper authority.

Come, says I, I doubt not that Phillips goes about to impress your consequence upon the servants.

Indeed, she says, Tibby is a lion in her defence. And she is sure that did she have any difficulties B-, His Grace her husband, would take the matter up, but really, she does not want to be running to him all the time.

'Tis a prudent course, says I, tho’ I confide he would be quite happy to give you any help he could.

O, she cries, he is quite the best and kindest of husbands. But I desire to be a helpmeet rather than a burden.

My dear Viola, I have seen how greatly he respects your understanding in politickal matters, and I doubt that he would prefer that you should bury yourself in household cares.

A footman shows in Susannah W- and we all greet one another very amiable.

O, she says, let me just sit a little and not talk for a while, now I am among friends. I am entire weary of repeating that your horse bolt’d at the noise, dear C-, and that the fellow was not aiming at you but wildly waving a pistol around in his lunacy.

O dear, says I, I had hop’d that it would not be known 'twas me, for the world is very like to suppose that there must be something behind rather than pure chance. Sure my poor sweet Jezebel was extreme shaken: she is not some cavalry mount train’d for the noise of battle.

Sebastian told me what a very fine horse you have, says Viola, and that you are a fine sight upon her.

I confide that any would look fine upon such an excellent creature as dear Jezebel, says I.

They both give me a look.

And sure a riding-habit can be most flattering, I add.

They both have knowing smiles.

(Sure I am mercilessly teaz’d.)