His fears of surprise, however, again came upon him so strongly while reading it, that he flung away the book in the utmost commotion at every sound, lest any one was entering, always saying in excuse, “We must not be called two blue stockings;” and, “They are so glad to laugh; the world is so always on the watch for ridicule.”...
I know not by what means, but after this we talked over Mr. Hastings’s trial. I find he is very much acquainted with Mr. Windham, and I surprised him not a little, I saw, by what I told him of part Of My conferences with that gentleman.
This matter having led us from our serious subjects, he took up “Akenside” once more, and read to me the first book throughout, What a very, very charming poem is the “Pleasures of the Imagination!” He stayed to the last moment, and left me all the better for the time he thus rescued from feverish lassitude and suffering.
A VISIT TO WORCESTER.
Tuesday, Aug. 5—The journey to Worcester was very pleasant, and the country through which we passed extremely luxuriant and pretty. We did not go in by the Barborne road; but all the road, and all avenues leading to it, were lined with people, and when we arrived at the city we could see nothing but faces; they lined the windows from top to bottom, and the pavement from end to end.
We drove all through the city to come to the palace of Bishop Hurd, at which we were to reside. Upon stopping there, the king had an huzza that seemed to vibrate through the whole town; the princess royal’s carriage had a second, and the equerries a third; the mob then, as ours drew on in succession, seemed to deliberate whether or not we also should have a cheer: but one of them soon decided the matter by calling out, “These are the maids of honour!” and immediately they gave us an huzza that made us quite ashamed, considering its vicinity.
Mr. Fairly and Colonel Goldsworthy having performed the royal attendance, waited to hand us out of the carriage; and then the former said he believed he should not be wanted, and would go and make a visit in the town. I should have much liked walking off also, and going to my cousins at Barborne Lodge; but I was no free agent, and obliged to wait for commands.
The house is old and large; part of it looks to the Severn but the celebrated “Fair Sabrina” was so thick and muddy, that at this time her vicinity added but little to the beauty of the situation.