“Oh, yes; I think he said something about music.”
“Yes, touching a note here and there, as one might in passing a harpsichord. Of course you could not have lived in Dr. Burney’s house without being able to understand something of music. But we must not trespass upon Signor Rauzzini’s courtesy, Miss Burney. Everyone is talking of him in the drawing-room—he must gratify the company by mingling with them.”
Then she addressed Rauzzini in French.
“I promised to go in search of you, signor,” she said. “Madame Reynolds is distracted. I came on my mission famished—I had vowed, as the crusaders did, not to taste food or drink until I had succeeded in my emprise. May I ask you to have pity on me now and lead me to the tea-table?”
He turned to ask Fanny to accompany them, but he found that she had slipped quietly away. She was already at the door.
“My duty was to Miss Burney, madame, but she has been frightened away,” said he.
“Oh, she is the shy one of the family, I believe,” said Mrs. Thrale. “I am sure that all the time you were so good-natured as to talk to her she was wishing that the floor would open and allow her to sink out of sight. She would have thought it much more good-natured on your part if you had taken no notice of her. I have scarcely spoken to her half a dozen times myself, though I have frequently been to her father’s house. I cannot rack my brain to discover a congenial topic with such young people. Were you successful, do you think?”
He made a gesture with his hands that might mean anything. Mrs. Thrale assumed that it meant nothing—that he felt he was not greatly concerned whether he had been successful in finding a congenial topic of converse with Miss Burney or not.
She laughed.
“Poor girl!” she said. “She may have her dreams like other girls.”