nd occupations of the country; but I was unable to go
further than a monosyllable in reply, and not even so far as that when I
could possibly avoid it.

Tired, ashamed, and mortified, I begged at last to sit down till we
returned home. Lord Orville did me the honour to hand me to the coach,
talking all the way of the honour I had done _him_! Oh, these
fashionable people!

* * * * *

There is no end to the troubles of last night. I have gathered from
Maria Mirvan the most curious dialogue that ever I heard. Maria was
taking some refreshment, and saw Lord Orville advancing for the same
purpose himself, when a gay-looking man, Sir Clement Willoughby, I am
told, stepped up and cried, "Why, my lord, what have you done with your
lovely partner?"

"Nothing!" answered Lord Orville, with a smile and a shrug.

"By Jove!" said the man, "she is the most beautiful creature I ever saw
in my life!"

Lord Orville laughed, but answered, "Yes, a pretty, modest-looking
girl!"

"Oh, my lord," cried the other, "she is an angel!"

"A silent one," returned he.

"Why, my lord, she looks all intelligence and expression!"

"A poor, weak girl," answered Lord Orville, shaking his head. "Whether
ignorant or mischievous, I will not pretend to determine; but she
attended to all I said to her with the most immovable gravity."

Here Maria was called to dance, and so heard no more.

Now, tell me, sir, did you ever know anything more provoking? "A poor,
weak girl! Ignorant and mischievous!" What mortifying words! I would not
live here for the world. I care not how soon I leave.

_III.--An Unlucky Meeting_

EVELINA TO MR. VILLARS

How much will you be surprised, my dearest sir, at receiving so soon
another letter from London in your Evelina's writing. An accident,
equally unexpected and disagreeable, has postponed our journey to Lady
Howard at Howard Grove.

We went last night to see the "Fantocini," a little comedy in French and
Italian, by puppets, and when it was over, and we waited for our coach,
a tall, elderly, foreign-looking woman brushed quickly past us, calling
out, "My God! What shall I do? I have lost my company, and in this place
I don't know anybody."

"We shall but follow the golden rule," said Mrs. Mirvan, "if we carry
her to her lodgings."

We therefore admitted her to her coach, to carry her to Oxford Road. Let
me draw a veil over a scene too cruel for a heart so compassionate as