“Eh, what is this?” cried the old man. “Do you mean to disclaim all responsibility for the act? Ah, ’tis too late for you to make such an attempt. The evil has been done. The poison has begun to work in our blood; and its effects can only be neutralized by the contents of the third volume. Say at once, I pray, if you have brought it.”
“Do not trouble poor Susy with your tropes, sir,” said Fanny. “She cannot grasp your meaning, and only trusts that we have not gone mad. I suppose that the road was as usual—half of it muddy and the rest dusty?”
“I insist on hearing if the third volume is in the chaise,” said Mr. Crisp, firmly. “If it be not, then you may drive straight back to St. Martin’s Street and return hither with it in time for Fannikin to read it to-night.”
“Pray what book is it that you refer to, Mr. Crisp?” inquired Mrs. Burney.
“What book, madam! As if there were more books than one printed this year! Why, Mrs. Burney, where have you been living all this time, that you have never heard of ‘Evelina’?” cried he.
“I have heard of little else save this ‘Evelina’ for some time past; but I have no time for reading novels, nor has any member of my family,” replied the lady.
“I insisted on one member of your family finding the time yesterday and to-day, and the consequence is that she has gone through the first volume and part of the second since Susy was so obliging as to send them hither. I was in hopes that you had brought the third volume; but I perceive that we shall have to wait for it now.”
Susy was examining very closely the pattern on her plate when Mrs. Burney turned to her, saying:
“Does Mr. Crisp mean that you got that novel and sent it hither to Fanny?”