I go about making calls

I go call upon Viola, for I daresay she feels it considerable that her twin brother is gone away for this Grand Tour. I am admitt’d to her little parlour, where I find her going over household books. She looks up, brushes a straying lock of hair from her face, and smiles most welcoming as she jumps up.

O, dear C-! I am so glad of your company. How do you?

I say I do considerable well, and that she herself is looking exceeding well (sure she is at that time when being with child seems no great burden now that the queasiness is depart’d, and 'twould be harsh to tell her that there is worse to come).

She rings for a footman and desires him to bring tea.

O, she says, I know 'tis probable very wrong and frivolous of me, but I long to hear of how matters went at the Contessa’s ridotto. I have not seen dear Susannah since then, and have had no other visitors that might tell me.

What, has Lady J- not disclos’d anything?

O, she went straight down to Hampshire the day after, to see about the estate, so I have not had any account from her.

But, I say, I daresay you heard that she had borrow’d His Grace’s Turkish robes?

Oh, was that what she went as? As a Turkish gentleman? – I can tell she does not know whether to laugh or be shockt.

Indeed, and most effective.

I should have lik’d to have seen that! But how were you disguis’d?

I describe my Neapolitan peasant garb and she says it sounds most exceeding becoming.

Indeed, says I, Maurice – that is that fellow that comes as assistant to Mamzelle Bridgette – was most prepossesst and confides that one might make it a new fashion.

Sure I have heard of Maurice, that is some relation to dear Tibby, she says. She greatly approves of his eye for dress - but I do not think it is him that she walks out with. For she has some suitor, but is very close upon the matter, and sure 'tis poor ton to interrogate one’s servants about private matters, does one concede that they may have followers at all. I confide, tho’, that her taste in such matters must be very nice and discerning.

I cannot suppose it otherwise – and I can quite imagine how disdainfull she would be of any fellow that did not meet her exacting standards.

We laugh a little. But, I say, I do not know if she has told you that my major-domo Hector, and my cook, Euphemia, that is Tibby’s bosom-confidante, have now set a date for their wedding, and I daresay Euphemia would desire Tibby as her attendant.

I knew somewhat was afoot, for Tibby has been about stitchery at all hours that was naught to do with furbishing my wardrobe – she looks down at her mourning and sighs – and I should be entirely delight’d to give her the day off.

'Twill, says I, be shortly before this house-party at A-.

O! cries Viola, sure I know that 'twill be a serious matter concerning politickal business, but indeed it will be exceeding pleasant to go out a little into society. Also I hear A- is a very fine house with most splendid gardens, tho’ I suppose they will not show at their full glory so early in the year.

I am not sure the society will be of the most entertaining, but indeed 'twill be a change.

She sighs and says she thinks that little Essie sees more society than she does, going to the routs in the F-s’ nursery. What an excellent thing that is, and I think Betty enjoys it as well to have the company of others of her profession -

And, I say, boast upon the particular merits of their own charges!

I daresay! But, C-, do you think it would be suitable did I invite the elder F- girls to a little tea-party or some such? They are really most agreeable creatures.

I cannot see that it would be frown’d upon. And indeed they most greatly admire you.

Viola colours a little. O, really? They are such fine young women, such excellent manners, so well-inform’d, and one sees their fondness for one another and for their brothers and baby sister, so extreme pretty.

And how does your sister?

O, dear Martha finds herself exceeding well, and has several commissions for scientifick illustrations. She now wonders whether she should learn how to do engraving so that she might undertake that part of the business herself. And Lady J- has been speaking to Mr S- about the improvements to the Admiral’s estate.

I must go call upon her, I have not done so for a while, but is she so busy about commissions I fear to be an interrupting nuisance.

O, she is ever quite delight’d to see you, C-. But do tell me more about the ridotto -

So I tell her somewhat (tho’ not the Graf von M-'s misapprehensions): she is greatly amuz’d at the notion of the Dowager Lady W- as Flora, and indeed that Sir V- P- went as a pirate.

O, she says, I wish I could have seen it. She sighs a little and says indeed she should not repine. I say that I must be about various matters, but I hope to come see her again before the house-party so that we may plot strategy.

Oh, indeed you require Susannah for that.

Perchance we three should conclave on the subject.

She clasps both my hands as we make our farewells and I kiss her very warmly.

I then go on to Mr de C-'s studio, where I am in hopes of finding Phoebe. I daresay she is already appriz’d that Hector has set the date, but I wish to gossip a little with her on the matter.

I find Mr de C- alone in the studio, working upon the background detail of the painting of Bess, Meg, and Flora. I observe that he has caught the resemblance 'twixt the three sisters most exceeding fine. I make some commendation.

He looks at me again with that piercing artist’s scrutiny and then at Flora between her sisters, but says nothing.

Comes in Phoebe and we kiss in greeting. Well, she says, brother Hector has made up his mind at last, sure I thought Euphemia would have to hit him on the head with the frying pan and drag him to church.

Sure all is now in upheaval in the household, but I confide that 'twill go running more smoothly once all is settl’d. Has Hector said who will be his groomsman?

I am like to think he will go ask Roberts, for whom he has a very great esteem.

O, that would be most exceeding suitable!

And Tibby and Prue to attend Euphemia. At least we have had a deal of time to get her trousseau prepar’d with all this delay.

I remark that I daresay Seraphine is already about the bride-cake, and make some comment upon the painting. Did you, say I, prevail upon Mr MacD- to wear picturesque Scottish dress?

Alas no, says Mr de C-, and lifts a sheet away from a painting on an easel, that shows Sandy looking most exceeding philosophickal seated at a desk which is pil’d with books, and holding a quill as if he writes. Mr de C- murmurs something about Titian.

He then clears his throat and says he would be entirely delight’d to paint me, he thinks I said something concerning Neapolitan peasant dress?

That would be charming, says I, sure I do not think I contrive sittings until I have this wedding and Lord G- R-'s politickal house-party out of the way, but then I should have less to be about.

Phoebe looks at me with a little smile on her lips as if she supposes this unlikely.

I make my farewells and return home, before going out once more to family dinner with my darlings.

I convey the Duchess’s invitation to Bess and Meg, at which they squeal mightily and declare it quite exceeds, sure Harry will be entirely jealous when they tell him, o what a fine bang-up lady she is, Mama, Papa, we may go, may we not?

My dear ones look at them very fond and say they cannot imagine why Her Grace wishes to invite such a pair of sad hoydens, but has she been so kind as to invite them, they must certainly go.

O just wait, says Bess, until we tell the girls at dancing class. They do not go take tea with Duchesses.

I hope, says I, that this will not go about to make you proud and haughty, 'tis in very poor ton.

They deny that 'twill do so, but indeed, sometimes the other girls are very provoking.

I rehearse for them once again the expressions by which one conveys to another that they are in uncommon poor ton.

Eliza laughs as the girls endeavour to emulate these and says sure if the wind changes their faces will stick like that.

After the girls have gone to bed, I tell my darlings the various matters that have been falling out lately, and we have some convoking on the matter of the house-party. But where, says I, is Miss N- this e’en?

Mr L-, says Josiah, is come up to Town to take her to the theatre. I think she is a little melancholick still that her sister goes so distant – and really, one cannot yet expect any letters unless they have particular good fortune to meet with some vessel coming this way – and I think it will do her spirits good to go out with him.

You are most exemplary kind to her, I say.

O, were we not, I confide that our kindest-heart’d of C-s would be about contriving her some more favourable place.

O, says I, I am mercilessly teaz’d.