FROM PILLAR TO POST.
When the princesses left us, we were again at a loss what to do with ourselves; we saw several passing servants, maids as well as men, and Miss Planta applied to them all to shew me my room, which I was anxious to inhabit in peace and solitude: however, they all promised to send, some one else, but no one came. Miss Planta, in the midst of the diversion she received from my unavailing earnestness to get into some retreat, had the good-nature to say, “I knew how this would turn out, and wished the visit over before it began; but it must really be very new to you, unused as you are to it, and accustomed to so much attention in other places.”
At length she seized upon a woman servant, who undertook to conduct me to this wished-for room. Miss Planta accompanied me, and off we set. In descending the stairs, a door opened which led to one of the state rooms, in which were the royal family. We glided softly past; but the princess royal, attended by the Duchess of Ancaster, came out to us. We soon found her royal highness had told our tale. “Miss Vernons,” said the duchess, “will come to take care of you; you must both go and take possession of the eating-parlour, where you will sup; and the equerries will be of your party.”
I said not a word, but of general thanks, still longing only to go to my own room. I whispered this to Miss Planta, who obligingly, though rather reluctantly, consented to pursue our first scheme. But when the duchess observed that we were turning off, she called out, “I see you do not know your way, so I'll come and show you to the eating-parlour.” The princess royal said she would come with us also; and, according to direction, we were therefore necessitated to proceed.
When we got to the hall leading to this parlour, we were suddenly stopped by the appearance of the king, who just then came out of that very room. Lord Harcourt attended with a candle in his hand, and a group of gentlemen followed. We were advanced too far to retreat, and therefore only stood still. The king stopped, and spoke to the Duchess of Ancaster; and then spoke very graciously to Miss Planta and me, inquiring when we set out, and what sort of journey we had had. He then ascended the stairs, the princess royal accompanying him, and all the rest following; the duchess first pointing to the door of the eating-parlour, and bidding us go there and expect Miss Vernons.
Lord Harcourt, during this meeting, had contrived to slip behind the king, to make me a very civil bow; and when his majesty moved on, he slid nearer me, and whispered a welcome to his house in very civil terms. This was all he could do, so situated.
We now entered the eating-room. We sat down,—but no Miss Vernons! Presently the door opened,—I hoped they were coming,—but a clergyman, a stranger to us both, appeared. This gentleman, I afterwards found, was Mr. Hagget, chaplain to Lord Harcourt, and rector of a living in his lordship's gift and neighbourhood; a young man, sensible, easy, and remarkably handsome, in very high favour with all the family. With nobody to introduce us to each other, we could but rise and bow, and curtsey, and sit down again.
In a few minutes, again the door gave hopes to me of Miss Vernons;—but there only appeared a party of gentlemen. Major Price came foremost, and immediately introduced me to General Harcourt. The general is a very shy man, with an air of much haughtiness; he bowed and retreated, and sat down, and was wholly silent. Colonel Fairly followed him, and taking a chair next mine, began some of the civilest speeches imaginable, concerning this opportunity of making acquaintance with me.
Just then came in a housemaid, and said she would show me my room. I rose hastily. Miss Planta, who knew everybody present except the clergyman, was now willing to have sat still and chatted; but nothing short of compulsion could have kept me in such a situation, and therefore I instantly accompanied the maid; and poor Miss Planta could not stay behind. The truth is the non-appearance of any of the ladies of the house struck me as being so extremely uncivil, that I desired nothing but to retire from all the party.
I felt quite relieved when I once took possession of a room that, for the time, I might call my own; and I could not possibly listen to Miss Planta's desire of returning to the company. I told her frankly that it was a situation so utterly disagreeable to me, that I must beg to decline placing myself in it again. She was afraid, she said, that, as the Duchess of Ancaster had taken the trouble to show us the room, and to tell us what to do, in the presence of the princess royal, the queen might hear of our absconding, and not be pleased with it.
“I must risk that,” I answered—“I shall openly tell my reasons, If questioned, and I firmly believe they will be satisfactory. If not questioned, I shall say nothing; and indeed I very much wish you would do the same.”
She agreed,—consented, rather—and I was the more obliged to her from seeing it was contrary to her inclination. I was sorry, but I could not compliment at the expense of putting myself again into a situation I had been so earnest to change. Miss Planta bore it very well, and only wished the maid farther for never finding us out till we began to be comfortable without her.