“Yes; but he never repeated it; though he wished of all things to have gone through just such another scene with Mrs. Montagu, and to refrain was an act of heroic forbearance.”
“Why, I rather wonder he did not; for she was the head of the set of Lytteltonians.”
“Oh, he knows that; he calls Mr. Pepys only her prime minister.”
“And what does he call her?
“Queen,' to be sure! 'Queen of the blues.' She came to Streatham one morning, and I saw he was dying to attack her. But he had made a promise to Mrs. Thrale to have no more quarrels in her house, and so he forced himself to forbear. Indeed he was very much concerned, when it was over, for what had passed; and very candid and generous in acknowledging it. He is too noble to adhere to wrong.”
“And how did Mrs. Montagu herself behave?”
“Very stately, indeed, at first. She turned from him very stiffly, and with a most distant air, and without even courteseying to him, and with a firm intention to keep to what she had publicly declared—that she would never speak to him more! However, he went up to her himself, longing to begin! and very roughly said,—'Well, madam, what's become of your fine new house? I hear no more of it.'
“But how did she bear this?”
“Why she was obliged to answer him; and she soon grew so frightened—as everybody else does—that she was as civil as ever.”
He laughed heartily at this account. But I told him Dr. Johnson was now much softened. He had acquainted me, when I saw him last, that he had written to her upon the death of Mrs. Williams, because she had allowed her something yearly, which now ceased. 'And I had a very kind answer from her,' said he.