AT WINDSOR AGAIN THE CANON AND MRS. SCHWELLENBERG.
Windsor, Sunday, Aug. 17.—This day, after our arrival, began precisely the same as every day preceding our journey. The Sleeping Beauty in the Wood could not awake more completely to the same scene; yet I neither have been asleep, nor am quite a beauty! O! I wish I were as near to the latter as the former at this minute!
We had all the set assembled to congratulate his majesty on his return—generals and colonels without end. I was very glad while the large party lasted, its diminution into a solitary pair ending in worse than piquet—a tête-à-tête!—and such a one, too! after being so spoiled!
Monday, Aug. 18.—Well, now I have a new personage to introduce to you, and no small one; ask else the stars, moon and planets! While I was surrounded with bandboxes, and unpacking, Dr. Shepherd was announced. Eager to make his compliments on the safe return, he forced a passage through the back avenues and stairs, for he told me he did not like being seen coming to me at the front door, as it might create some jealousies amongst the other canons! A very commendable circumspection! but whether for my sake or his own he did not particularize.
M. de Lalande, he said, the famous astronomer,[290] was just arrived in England, and now at Windsor, and he had expressed a desire to be introduced to me.
Well, while he was talking this over, and I was wondering and evading, entered Mr. Turbulent. What a surprise at sight of the reverend canon! The reverend canon, also, was interrupted and confused, fearing, possibly, the high honour he did me might now transpire amongst his brethren, notwithstanding his generous efforts to spare them its knowledge.
Mr. Turbulent, who looked big with heroics, was quite provoked to see he had no chance of giving them vent. They each outstayed the patience of the other, and at last both went off together.
Some hours after, however, while I was dressing, the canon returned. I could not admit him, and bid Goter tell him at the door I was not visible. He desired he might wait till I was ready, as he had business of importance. I would not let him into the next room, but said he might stay in the eating-parlour.
When I was dressed I sent Goter to bring him in. She came back, grinning and colouring; she had not found him, she said, but only Mrs. Schwellenberg, who was there alone, and had called her in to know what she wanted. She answered she came to seek for a gentleman.
“There’s no gentleman,” she cried, “to come into my parlour. It is not permit. When he comes I will have it locked up.”
O, ho, my poor careful canon! thought I. However, soon after a tap again at my door introduced him. He said he had been waiting below in the passage, as he saw Madame Schwellenberg in the parlour, and did not care to have her know him; but his business was to settle bringing M. de Lalande to see me in the evening. I told him I was much honoured, and so forth, but that I received no evening company, as I was officially engaged.
He had made the appointment, he said, and could not break it without affronting him; besides, he gave me to understand it would be an honour to me for ever to be visited by so great an astronomer. I agreed as to that, and was forced, moreover, to agree to all the rest, no resource remaining.
I mentioned to her majesty the state of the case. She thought the canon very officious, and disapproved the arrangement, but saw it was unavoidable.
But when the dinner came I was asked by the présidente, “What for send you gentlemen to my parlour?”
“I was dressing, ma’am, and could not possibly receive company in mine, and thought the other empty.”
“Empty or full is the same! I won’t have it. I will lock up the room when it is done so. No, no, I won’t have no gentlemen here; it is not permit, perticklere when they von’t not speak to me!”
I then heard that “a large man, what you call,” had entered that sacred domain, and seeing there a lady, had quitted it “bob short!”
I immediately explained all that had passed, for I had no other way to save myself from an imputation of favouring the visits and indiscretion of this most gallant canon.
“Vell, when he comes so often he might like you. For what won’t you not marry him?”
This was coming to the point, and so seriously, I found myself obliged to be serious in answer, to avoid misconstruction, and to assure her, that were he Archbishop of Canterbury, and actually at my feet, I would not become archbishopess.
“Vell, you been right when you don’t not like him; I don’t not like the men neither: not one from them!” So this settled us very amicably till tea-time, and in the midst of that, with a room full of people, I was called out by Westerhaults to Dr. Shepherd!
Mrs. Schwellenberg herself actually te-he’d at this, and I could not possibly help laughing myself, but I hurried into the next room, where I found him with his friend, M. de Lalande. What a reception awaited me! how unexpected a one from a famed and great astronomer.