He saw me safe to the Lodge, and there took his leave: and I was going leisurely upstairs, when I met the Princess Amelia and Mrs. Cheveley; and while I was playing with the little princess, Mrs. Cheveley announced to me that the queen had been returned some time, and that I had been sent for immediately.
Thunderstruck at this intelligence, I hastened to her dressing-room; when I opened the door, I saw she was having her hair dressed. To add to my confusion, the Princess Augusta, Lady Effingham, and Lady Frances Howard were all in the room. I stood still at the door, not knowing whether to advance, or wait a new summons. In what a new situation did I feel myself!—and how did I long to give way to my first impulse, and run back to my own room.
In a minute or two, the queen not a little drily said, “Where have you been, Miss Burney?”
I told her my tale,—that hearing she was gone to Windsor, I had been walking in Richmond gardens with Mr. Smelt. She said no more, and I stood behind her chair. The princess and two ladies were seated.
What republican feelings were rising in my breast, till she softened them down again, when presently, in a voice changed from that dryness which had wholly disconcerted me, to its natural tone, she condescended to ask me to look at Lady Frances Howard's gown, and see if it was not very pretty.
This made a dutiful subject of me again in a moment. Yet I felt a discomposure all day, that determined me upon using the severest caution to avoid such a surprise for the future. The Windsor journey having been merely upon business, had been more brief than was believed possible.
When I left the queen, I was told that Mrs. Delany was waiting for me in the parlour. What a pleasure and relief to me to run to that dear lady, and relate to her my mischance, and its circumstances! Mr. Smelt soon joined us there; he was shocked at the accident; and I saw strongly by his manner how much more seriously such a matter was regarded, than any one, unused to the inside of a Court, could possibly imagine.
“IS IT PERMITTED?”
Nov. 8.—This was the birth-day of the Princess Augusta, now eighteen. I could not resist this opportunity of presenting her one of my fairings, though I had some little fear she might think herself past the age for receiving birth-day gifts, except from the royal family: however they had arrived so seemingly a propos, and had been so much approved by the queen, that I determined to make the attempt. I took one of the work-boxes, and wrote with a pencil, round the middle ornament, “Est-il permis?”—and then I sent for Miss Makentomb, the princess's wardrobe woman, and begged her to place the box upon her royal highness's table.