The confiding of a matter to a sympathetick ear

We are entire in the midst of the turmoil of packing, and Docket and Sophy bustle about with gowns, hats, stockings, and a deal of undergarments, when comes Hector with a note from Lord G- R- asking would I care to go a little drive with him in the afternoon.

O - , says I, looking about me, sure I do not think I can take the time for such a matter.

Docket gives me a look and says they will get on entire better is My Ladyship not in the way and interfering in the business.

Sophy looks shockt. Sure she should be us’d to Docket’s ways by now.

Sure, Docket, says I, I will be entire lesson’d by you that I should not go supposing that I am mistress in my own household and should not imagine that I might perchance have views on what I should be taking for these visits.

Docket sniffs and says she confides that she knows what will be the proper wear to mark my consequence and be suit’d to the various occasions –

The R- House footman, says Hector, waits on a reply.

I sigh very theatrickal and say I will go at once to my desk and compose an acceptance. And has the cabinet-maker sent the travelling desk I commission’d?

I have sent Timothy to enquire into the matter and to bring it back is it complet’d.

I go into my pretty parlour and sit at my pretty desk, which is no longer entire cover’d with letters I must be about replying to, tho’ there are some cards, and scribble a little note to Milord saying I shall be entire delight’d.

I glance at the cards and see that there is one from the Graf, that has PPC writ in the corner usual for such an announcement, so I confide that he is about to leave Town (or perchance 'tis that he wishes me to think so). I shall not be sorry to see him gone, if he does indeed go.

I dare not return to my dressing-room where Docket and Sophy are about the packing without my interventions, until such time as I must dress suitable for an afternoon drive.

Comes Milord at the appoint’d time, hands me up into the curricle, and we drive off behind the famous matcht blacks. I say that I was not sure whether he had not already left Town for A- in preparation for the fribble-set house-party.

Indeed, says he, I should have been off before now, but –

He falls silent for a considerable while, until we have past those parts where we are like to encounter acquaintance and are on the open road.

He sighs and says he does not like to leave while there is bad feeling 'twixt Sandy and himself, but he knows not how to bring about a reconciliation.

Bad feeling? says I. Does he take some pet at your fribble house-party?

Oh, he is entire us’d to that, has been an occasion every summer that has been wont to teaze me about. No, I fear 'tis my own fault. I flew into a quite extreme temper when I discover’d what he had been about with this matter of Bavarian spies and spoke angry words about the risque he ran at this present time going among those seditious sets of fellows – sure I surpriz’d myself with the vehemence of my fury.

Dour Calvininistickal glare? says I.

Worse, says Milord, quite equal wrath at my desire to keep him upon a leash like unto a lapdog and away from old friends and comrades - there was also some allusion to bedizening him like a fop -

Ah, says I, he spoke to me a while since of his old friends accusing him of being seduc’d by luxury &C, I daresay 'twould rankle somewhat.

I thought, says Milord somewhat desolate, that he had got out of that habit of keeping silence when troubl’d over some matter between us.

Why, was that troubling him, how should he make it known without sounding most exceeding lacking in gratitude?

I daresay – I do not think of it thus, but – Dearest C-, should you mind very much if we went exceeding fast for a little while?

Let me hold on very tight, and close my eyes, and you may do so.

I daresay 'tis not so very long that we go exceeding fast but it seems an age to me, sure I am a timid creature.

At last we go at a more answerable pace, and I open my eyes.

I am, says Milord at length, in such great apprehension that he will leave me.

What! I cry.

Why, I consider that he is no longer friendless or lacking in interest, could walk into a fine place tomorrow did he wish, there is no necessity for his remaining with me –

Sure I think you quite mistake the depth of his feelings for you!

Think you so?

Sure, my dear, are they not quite obvious? – that is, says I (for I do not want him to suppose that they are gossippt upon in wider society) among those that know you both well the excellent manly affection 'twixt the two of you is entire recogniz’d. He is quite entire devot’d to you.

Milord sighs and says he know not why. There is a fellow with talents and abilities and here is one that merely inherit’d wealth and position and has no particular qualities or merits.

My dear, says I, that you are not the man your father was is most greatly to your credit, and I am like to fancy that was something that you chose not to become. You are a fine defender of the oppresst - indeed Lady W-, whose taste in the matter is most exacting, has been most exceeding impresst by recent speeches of yours. You exercise a most excellent influence upon your empty-head’d wastrel set, that might have been led astray into bad wild ways but take you as an entire model to them of the very best ton.

Dearest C-, he says, you have ever been the best of friends to me. How do I bring about a reconciliation?

Alas, says I, I am entire well-acquaint’d with the means by which a lady may become reconcil’d to a gentleman after a falling out, but I am not entire convinc’d that an affecting tearfullness, an air of pathos and allusions to feminine weakness would be answerable in your situation.

Indeed not, says he. But sure I should go express my chagrin at having spoke harsh words, and beg his forgiveness.

(I am quite entirely of the supposition that 'twill be a matter on which one might, if so inclin’d, lay odds, which of the two of them will first make this approach before they are separat’d by their engagements. For I daresay that Sandy is in quite equal chagrin over his angry outburst and is in the frets over the matter.)

We turn for home with Milord in somewhat better mood.

Next morn, the cabinet-maker delivers my fine pretty travelling desk just in time. There is in the household a deal of running up and down stairs and carrying trunks and boxes out to the carriage.

As I confide that do I go anywhere in the house but my own parlour I will be in the way and underfoot, I go about to supply this pretty new possession with paper, pens, penknife, ink, sealing wax, sand-shaker, for which there are convenient compartments to keep them in order does the coach go jostle around. I am seeing can I fit in a blank book or two, when comes in Sandy.

Somewhat to my surprize, for I confide that Euphemia would have had her helping put up a fine basket for our refreshment upon the road, comes Celeste very expeditious with coffee and some shortbreads, tho’ I am in suspicion that they are not fresh-made.

I pour Sandy, that is looking somewhat dour and Calvinistickal, some coffee. He sits down.

My dear, says I, 'tis ever a pleasure to see you, but I was in some anticipation that we should next foregather at Lord P-'s house-party.

I daresay we shall – everything is quite in order for the departure – but I desir’d to come see you so that I might ask, what have you been saying to G- that he should suppose he should be begging my forgiveness, when 'tis I that should be begging his?

Oh? says I. I do not think I said anything to that effect.

Does he go driving with you and on his return come knocking at my chamber door declaring that he is quite the worst of fellows and knows not why I remain with him, I am like to connect the two matters! Sure I am a wretch’d mannerless creature that does not tell him what I am about so that he finds out subsequent and is understandable upset – tho’ indeed, he has a quite exaggerat’d notion of the danger I might have been in – and then I go speak most uncivil and ungratefull cross words to him.

Why, says I, I apprehend’d that he was in great distress at being at outs with his bello scozzese, and confid’d that his fears of a rupture 'twixt the two of you were groundless, but indeed, I had no particular notion of how this breach might be heal’d.

Perchance, I go on, 'twas merely the confiding of the matter to a sympathetick ear that produc’d the result.

I daresay, dear sibyl!

And you two are quite reconcil’d?

Indeed so, says Sandy, blushing. I pour him some more coffee.