“Oh, your servant! Is it so?” cried Mrs. Cholmondeley; “then you need say no more!”
Sir Joshua laughed, and the subject, to my great relief, was dropped.
When we broke up to depart, which was not till near two in the morning, Mrs. Cholmondeley went up to my mother, and begged her permission to visit in St. Martin's Street. Then, as she left the room, she said to me, with a droll sort of threatening look,
“You have not got rid of me yet, I have been forcing myself into your house.”
I must own I was not at all displeased at this, as I had very much and very reasonably feared that she would have been by then as sick of me from disappointment, as she was before eager for me from curiosity.
When we came away, Offy Palmer, laughing, said to me,
“I think this will be a breaking-in to you!”
“Ah,” cried I, “if I had known of your party!”
“You would have been sick in bed, I suppose?”
I would not answer “No,” yet I was glad it was over. And so concludeth this memorable evening.