Take a specimen. She opened, the other morning, upon my situation and occupation, and made the most plump inquiries into its particulars, with a sort of hearty good humour that removed all impertinence, whatever it left of inelegance and then began her comments.
“Well; the queen, to be sure, is a great deal better dressed than she used to be; but for all that, I really think it is but an odd thing for you!—Dear! I think it’s something so out of the way for you!—I can’t think how you set about it. It must have been very droll to you at first. A great deal of honour, to be sure, to serve a queen, and all that: but I dare say a lady’s-maid could do it better,—though to be called about a queen, as I say, is a great deal of honour: but, for my part, I should not like it; because to be always obliged to go to a person, whether one was in the humour or not, and to get up in a morning, if one was never so sleepy!—dear! it must be a mighty hurry-skurry life! you don’t look at all fit for it, to judge by appearances, for all its great honour, and all that.”
Is not this a fit bishop’s wife? is not here primitive candour and veracity? I laughed most heartily,—and we have now commenced acquaintance for these occasional meetings.
If this honest dame does not think me fit for this part of my business, there is another person, Mlle. Montmoulin, who, with equal simplicity, expresses her idea of my unfitness for another part.—“How you bear it,” she cries, “living with Mrs. Schwellenberg!—I like it better living in prison!—‘pon m’honneur, I prefer it bread and water; I think her so cross never was. If I you, I won’t bear it—poor Miss Burney!—I so sorry!—‘pon m’honneur, I think to you oftens!—you so confined, you won’t have no pleasures!—”
Miss Gomme, less plaintive, but more solemn, declared the other day, “I am sure you must go to heaven for living this life!”—-So, at least, you see, though in a court, I am not an object of envy.
MR. FAIRLY’S STRANGE WEDDING.
January, 1790.—Mr. Fairly was married the 6th—I must wish happiness to smile on that day, and all its anniversaries, it gave a happiness to me unequalled, for it was the birthday of my Susanna!
One evening, about this time, Mr. Fisher, now Doctor, drank tea with us at Windsor, and gave me an account of Mr. Fairly’s marriage that much amazed me. He had been called upon to perform the ceremony. It was by special licence, and at the house of Sir R———G———.[325] So religious, so strict in all ceremonies, even, of religion, as he always appeared, his marrying out of a church was to me very unexpected. Dr. Fisher was himself surprised, when called upon, and said he supposed it must be to please the lady.