Jane Austen, Her Life and Letters Part 36

We did not go to the ball.[270] It was left to her to decide, and at last she determined against it.

She knew that it would be a sacrifice on the part of her father and brothers if they went, and I hope it will prove that _she_ has not sacrificed much. It is not likely that there should have been anybody there whom she would care for. _I_ was very glad to be spared the trouble of dressing and going, and being weary before it was half over, so my gown and my cap are still unworn. It will appear at last, perhaps, that I might have done without either. I produced my brown bombazine yesterday, and it was very much admired indeed, and I like it better than ever.

The comfort of the billiard-table here is very great; it draws all the gentlemen to it whenever they are within, especially after dinner, so that my brother, f.a.n.n.y, and I have the library to ourselves in delightful quiet.

_Friday._--They[271] came last night at about seven. We had given them up, but _I still_ expected them to come. Dessert was nearly over; a better time for arriving than an hour and a half earlier. They were late because they did not set out earlier, and did not allow time enough.

Charles did not _aim_ at more than reaching Sittingbourne by three, which could not have brought them here by dinner time. They had a very rough pa.s.sage; he would not have ventured if he had known how bad it would be.

However, here they are, safe and well, just like their own nice selves, f.a.n.n.y looking as neat and white this morning as possible, and dear Charles all affectionate, placid, quiet, cheerful good humour. They are both looking very well, but poor little Ca.s.sy is grown extremely thin, and looks poorly. I hope a week's country air and exercise may do her good. I am sorry to say it can be but a week. The baby does not appear so large in proportion as she was, nor quite so pretty, but I have seen very little of her. Ca.s.sy was too tired and bewildered just at first to seem to know anybody. We met them in the hall--the women and girl part of us--but before we reached the library she kissed me very affectionately, and has since seemed to recollect me in the same way.

It was quite an evening of confusion, as you may suppose. At first we were all walking about from one part of the house to the other; then came a fresh dinner in the breakfast-room for Charles and his wife, which f.a.n.n.y and I attended; then we moved into the library, were joined by the dining-room people, were introduced, and so forth; and then we had tea and coffee, which was not over till past 10. Billiards again drew all the odd ones away, and Edward, Charles, the two Fannies, and I sat snugly talking. I shall be glad to have our numbers a little reduced, and by the time you receive this we shall be only a family, though a large family, party. Mr. Lus.h.i.+ngton goes to-morrow.

Now I must speak of _him_, and I like him very much. I am sure he is clever, and a man of taste.

He got a volume of Milton last night, and spoke of it with warmth. He is quite an M.P., very smiling, with an exceeding good address and readiness of language. I am rather in love with him. I dare say he is ambitious and insincere. He puts me in mind of Mr. Dundas. He has a wide smiling mouth, and very good teeth, and something the same complexion and nose.

[October 18, 1813.]

No; I have never seen the death of Mrs.

Crabbe.[272] I have only just been making out from one of his prefaces that he probably was married.

It is almost ridiculous. Poor woman! I will comfort _him_ as well as I can, but I do not undertake to be good to her children. She had better not leave any.

October 26.

Our Canterbury scheme took place as proposed, and very pleasant it was--Harriot and I and little George within, my brother on the box with the master coachman.

Our chief business was to call on Mrs. Milles, and we had, indeed, so little else to do that we were obliged to saunter about anywhere and go backwards and forwards as much as possible to make out the time and keep ourselves from having two hours to sit with the good lady--a most extraordinary circ.u.mstance in a Canterbury morning.

Old Toke came in while we were paying our visit. I thought of Louisa. Miss Milles was queer as usual, and provided us with plenty to laugh at. She undertook in _three words_ to give us the history of Mrs. Scudamore's reconciliation, and then talked on about it for half an hour, using such odd expressions, and so foolishly minute, that I could hardly keep my countenance.

Owing to a difference of clocks the coachman did not bring the carriage so soon as he ought by half an hour; anything like a breach of punctuality was a great offence, and Mr. Moore was very angry, which I was rather glad of. I wanted to see him angry; and, though he spoke to his servant in a very loud voice and with a good deal of heat, I was happy to perceive that he did not scold Harriot at all. Indeed, there is nothing to object to in his manners to her, and I do believe that he makes her--or she makes herself--very happy. They do not spoil their boy.

George Hatton[273] called yesterday, and I saw him, saw him for ten minutes; sat in the same room with him, heard him talk, saw him bow, and was not in raptures. I discerned nothing extraordinary. I should speak of him as a gentlemanlike young man--_eh bien! tout est dit._ We are expecting the ladies of the family this morning.

[November 3, 1813.]

I will keep this celebrated birthday by writing to you, and as my pen seems inclined to write large, I will put my lines very close together. I had but just time to enjoy your letter yesterday before Edward and I set off in the chair for Canty., and I allowed him to hear the chief of it as we went along.

But now I cannot be quite easy without staying a little while with Henry, unless he wishes it otherwise; his illness and the dull time of year together make me feel that it would be horrible of me not to offer to remain with him, and therefore unless you know of any objection, I wish you would tell him with my best love that I shall be most happy to spend ten days or a fortnight in Henrietta St., if he will accept me. I do not offer more than a fortnight, because I shall then have been some time from home; but it will be a great pleasure to be with him, as it always is.

Edward and I had a delightful morning for our drive _there_ [to Canterbury], I enjoyed it thoroughly; but the day turned off before we were ready, and we came home in some rain and the apprehension of a great deal. It has not done us any harm, however. He went to inspect the gaol, as a visiting magistrate, and took me with him. I was gratified, and went through all the feelings which people must go through, I think, in visiting such a building. We paid no other visits, only walked about snugly together and shopped. I bought a concert ticket and a sprig of flowers for my old age.

What a convenient carriage Henry's is, to his friends in general! Who has it next? I am glad William's going is voluntary, and on no worse grounds. An inclination for the country is a venial fault. He has more of Cowper than of Johnson in him--fonder of tame hares and blank verse than of the full tide of human existence at Charing Cross.

Oh! I have more of such sweet flattery from Miss Sharp. She is an excellent kind friend. I am read and admired in Ireland, too. There is a Mrs.

Fletcher, the wife of a judge, an old lady, and very good and very clever, who is all curiosity to know about me--what I am like, and so forth. I am not known to her by _name_, however. This comes through Mrs. Carrick, not through Mrs. Gore. You are quite out there.

I do not despair of having my picture in the Exhibition at last--all white and red, with my head on one side; or perhaps I may marry young Mr.

D'Arblay. I suppose in the meantime I shall owe dear Henry a great deal of money for printing, &c.

I hope Mrs. Fletcher will indulge herself with _S.

and S._

November 6.

Having half an hour before breakfast (very snug in my own room, lovely morning, excellent fire--fancy me!) I will give you some account of the last two days. And yet, what is there to be told? I shall get foolishly minute unless I cut the matter short.

We met only the Bretons at Chilham Castle, besides a Mr. and Mrs. Osborne and a Miss Lee staying in the house, and were only fourteen altogether. My brother and f.a.n.n.y thought it the pleasantest party they had ever known there, and I was very well entertained by bits and sc.r.a.ps.

By-the-bye, as I must leave off being young, I find many _douceurs_ in being a sort of _chaperon_, for I am put on the sofa near the fire, and can drink as much wine as I like. We had music in the evening: f.a.n.n.y and Miss Wildman played, and Mr. James Wildman sat close by and listened, or pretended to listen.

. . . Mrs. Harrison[274] and I found each other out, and had a very comfortable little complimentary friendly chat. She is a sweet woman--still quite a sweet woman in herself, and so like her sister! I could almost have thought I was speaking to Mrs.

Lefroy. She introduced me to her daughter, whom I think pretty, but most dutifully inferior to _la Mere Beaute_.

I was just introduced at last to Mary Plumptre, but should hardly know her again. She was delighted with _me_, however, good enthusiastic soul! And Lady B. found me handsomer than she expected, so you see I am not so very bad as you might think for.

Since I wrote last, my 2nd edit.[275] has stared me in the face. Mary tells me that Eliza means to buy it. I wish she may. It can hardly depend upon any more Fyfield Estates. I cannot help hoping that _many_ will feel themselves obliged to buy it. I shall not mind imagining it a disagreeable duty to them, so as they do it. Mary heard before she left home that it was very much admired at Cheltenham, and that it was given to Miss Hamilton.[276] It is pleasant to have such a respectable writer named. I cannot tire _you_, I am sure, on this subject, or I would apologise.

What weather, and what news![277] We have enough to do to admire them both. I hope you derive your full share of enjoyment from each.

Lady Eliz. Hatton and Annamaria called here this morning. Yes, they called; but I do not think I can say anything more about them. They came, and they sat, and they went.