“I never could make out whether it was my beauty or my music that so charmed the people among whom I travelled in Europe, but, listening to Miss Linley last evening, the truth was revealed to me.”
And while the two beautiful ladies held up their hands and laughed merrily at the solemn face of their friend, Mr. Boswell, who had been hiding behind one of Dr Johnson’s legs, went off with another story of Dr. Goldsmith’s extraordinary vanity.
The next day it became known that the beautiful Miss Linley had actually promised to marry the elderly gentleman who had been so attentive to her for some months, thereby giving quite an impetus to the business of the lampooner. Mr. Walter Long was the gentleman’s name, and he was known to have large estates in Wiltshire.
The news overwhelmed Bath.
“What, a third attraction accruing to Miss Linley!” cried the Duchess of Devonshire with uplifted hands.
“Poor Miss Linley!” said George Selwyn.
“Poor Mr. Long!” said Horace Walpole.
“’Pon my word,” said Garrick, when the news of Miss Linley’s engagement to Mr. Long was coupled with the information that she would not sing after her marriage, “Linley is thrown away as a musician. Such adroitness as he has shown in this matter should be sufficient to avert ruin from many a manager of a play-house.”
Indeed, the general opinion that prevailed among the cynical people, who knew what an excellent man of business was Linley, and how thoroughly he believed in the duty of his children to contribute to their support, was either that he wished to add to the elements of interest associated with his eldest daughter in order to make her more attractive to the public who paid to hear her sing, or that he had made an uncommonly good bargain with Mr. Long in respect of the compensation which he should receive for the loss of his daughter’s services. The receipts of the next three concerts, people were ready to affirm, were to be regarded as the basis of the negotiations respecting the sum to be paid to him for the loss of his daughter.
