A conversazione of antiquarians

Next morn I am dutyfull about my correspondence, but from time to time I pause and smile.

Comes Hector to say, Lady Anna M- is at the door – that groom of hers goes bother Ajax again about some matter –

O, I cry, send her in at once and desire coffee of Euphemia.

Comes in Lady Anna looking exceeding happy. I confide she has been riding with the Marquess.

Celeste comes with coffee and some excellent parkin.

Well, my dear, says I, how do matters get on with you?

Oh, Lady B-, they come along most excellent. But that, she goes on with a little pout, we have determin’d that I should show disdainfull and not hear my dearest Tony go talk of the Incas this afternoon.

Why, Lady Anna, 'tis a fine stroke in the comedy, for there will be several of your set there.

Indeed, because Her Grace and Agnes and Lady D- intend to be there, Em is wondering whether she should go, to keep 'em company, and tell me whether he proses on – for indeed, none but my dear Mama knows the inwardness of the matter, for sure I am in doubt that I might count upon their discretion. Perchance I might tell U-, but did I tell Geoff I might as well go announce it in the newspapers.

Indeed, I fear that might be the case.

She sighs. Sure I am exceeding fond of Geoff, but –

I laugh a little.

She drinks her coffee and nibbles upon some parkin. And then there is this dinner-party he goes give at M. Duval’s.

Indeed, says I, I have been invit’d myself.

'Twill not be a large party, she says, but he goes invite His and Her Grace of M-, which Papa tells him is a most excellent instance of a fellow that has marry’d a young woman that some thought was not yet ripe enough for a Duchess, and that shows most exceeding well in the rank, and also their mutual devotion is much remarkt upon. Indeed, I shall be delight’d to have Her Grace there, but I confide 'twill be a dreary occasion.

Sure, says I, many occasions that we are oblig’d out of civility to attend are exceeding dreary.

She sighs and then brightens, saying that sure they have been thinking of ways they may teaze Papa over dinner.

Naughty creatures, says I laughing.

But, she says, after that he says he goes into Northamptonshire about horses and will be away several days.

Sure, says I, you should be carefull not to mope too obvious.

She laughs.

After she has gone I think how happyly this matter has turn’d out: yet I think she also still has a little distress concerning her unfashionable wear, that will become more pronounc’d once the season begins. But I have a contrivance afoot for that: and sure, I am in some hopes that Lord U- may come about to persuading his father to a more reasonable notion of expenditure upon his womenfolk without I have to put Covent Garden into play.

In the afternoon I go to the conversazione of antiquaries. They are still a most antique gathering, but enliven’d by the presence of dear Viola and her chicks Lady D-, Agnes S- and Lady Emily, who is accompany’d by Lord U-, that I daresay wishes to get a look over his intend’d brother-in-law. I observe Sandy, and the Reverend Mr L-.

The latter comes up to me and bows over my hand very civil, conveys the regards of the U-s, hopes he finds me well, &C. I congratulate him upon his fellowship of this learn’d society, and he goes expatiate upon the exceeding fine library they have that he may now consult.

He is beckon’d away by some other antiquarian, and as I stand there, totters up to me the antient fellow that askt me about the late Marquess’ collection of antiquities. Has, he says, been to see them at the British Museum: then says, in somewhat of a sulky tone, that he would have given an exceeding pretty price for 'em himself –

(Sure he looks to be of years at which the generative power is but a distant recollection, but perchance he would desire the invocation of memories.)

- Oh, says I, 'twas quite entire definite in my late husband’s testamentary dispositions, that his collection should go to the Museum: and a fine business we were at getting it sent from Naples.

So it all went, says he, there was nothing kept back?

Indeed not, says I. You may enquire of Mr MacD-, that brought his skills as a scholar of the classicks to preparing the inventory.

He grumbles, no, no, he entire confides that that was the case, but he is not sure those fellows at the Museum fully appreciate what an exceeding fine collection they have acquir’d there.

The president of the society comes out with the Marquess of O- and we all go sit down in order to drink in knowledge.

Indeed, the Marquess speaks not badly for one that, I daresay, has never gone study the art – and sure there are those whose livelihood is speaking that have never gone do so, or there would be fewer sleep thro’ sermons in church. And indeed the matter is of some interest and I find myself capable of more apprehension than I was able to contrive over Mr L-'s doubtless exceeding fine account of Hebrew manuscripts.

There are a deal of questions afterwards, including one fellow that wishes to know whether 'twas possible that the Incas were the Lost Tribes of Israel. I hear a snort somewhere behind me that I confide to be Sandy. The Marquess says that alas, he does not have that deeper knowledge that might tend to an answer of the question: he was principally concern’d with the plants of that region but in his travels acquir’d these fine products of the Incas that, indeed, are there those that desire a somewhat closer look, are entire welcome to come up and take it.

The president stands up and thanks the Marquess very hearty.

There are some several go up examine the objects and interrogate the Marquess.

However, most are more inclin’d to enjoy some tea and a little general conversation.

I observe that the very antient fellow that was so interest’d in my own dear Marquess’ collection has indeed gone quiz Sandy on the topick. I do not have to look to apprehend from Sandy’s tone that there is a dour Calvinistickal glare.

Lady Emily comes up and tugs at my sleeve. O, Lady B-, sure the Marquess is not as bad as I thought he would be. Is he not good-looking? One hears he conduct’d himself exceeding heroick in the Spanish Americas. And indeed, 'twas not at all as tedious as Nan said 'twould be. I do not think he is as objectionable as she makes out

Why, says I, perchance she has not had enough time yet to get to know him, and sure a woman of spirit may feel that 'tis not in keeping with the name of freeborn Englishwoman to be nigh on order’d to wed a particular fellow.

Dear Viola comes over and says, sure that was an entire treat; I must go ask the Marquess whether the language of the Incas may still be study’d, 'twould sure be a very fascinating thing.

I laugh a little and say, even if one might learn the language, I confide that there might be some difficulty in finding a tutor.

Indeed, says Viola, and talking of tutors, I meant to open to you my concern about Fraulein H-; seems exceeding taken with this fellow Herr P- that lodges with the family and writes about ideal communities.

Yes, says I, a consumptive fellow that I suspect moves her heart to pity.

Viola sighs. And there is Fraulein H- that is a fine healthy creature, and moreover one that earns an excellent living 'twixt giving lessons and translating and undertaking business correspondence for those that deal with the Germanick regions.

From which part of the world I see your brother is now return’d?

Oh, yes! says Viola with a dimpling smile, 'tis delightfull to have him back and to hear his tales. He goes visit Martha and Jacob in Hampshire at present.

She looks about and says, dear Susannah W- will be sad to have misst this: but she said 'twould be extreme incivil to go nap, and at present 'tis a time of day she finds her eyes close will she nil-she. But I see that there is less of a press about the Marquess and I will go ask him about the language.

I observe the Reverend Mr L- making very attentive to Lady D- and Agnes S-: I daresay he is still in some concern about the incident at my soirée, for if he has been down in Surrey this while he may not have heard of Lord D-'s apology and our entire reconciliation.

Perchance, however, he gains some notion that matters have undergone change, for Lady D- chatters about Astley’s and her pug as well as the good works she takes up.

I go over to 'em as he and Miss S- go talk of a subscription concert where they lately encounter'd one another. Lady D- sighs and says sure it sounds exceeding fine - Beethoven you say? – but 'twas a day when I had a matter of a meeting of an enterprize for educating the blind so that they may pursue usefull occupations, and thought I should be dutyfull, for indeed I go about a deal of pleasure lately.

'Tis an excellent work, says I.

'Twas quite magnificent musick, says Miss S- (I daresay there was a poem or two came from the occasion).

Indeed, says Mr L-, a most exceptional fine orchestra.

I observe that he looks kindly at Agnes S-: I daresay that he – for I doubt he will have any apprehension of the extreme crack style of her gown &C – takes her to be the poor relative that is oblig’d to reside in her sister’s household and goes make particular civil for that reason.