“I knew that I was safe in coming to a friend of Mr. Greville,” he said. “I care not if, as you suggest, you have become Mr. Garrick’s successor at Drury Lane, though I thought that Mr. Sheridan—”
“Zounds, sir, you are never going to wait to discuss theatre matters,” cried Garrick. “Dr. Burney has been exercising his powers of oratory in vain upon you for this half hour if you tarry even to thank him. Post, sir, post at once to Tunbridge Wells, and send Dr. Burney your thanks when you have put the momentous question to the lady. Go, sir, without the pause of a moment, and good luck attend you.”
“Good luck attend you! Keep up your heart, sir: the lady may refuse you after all,” said young Burney; but the poor gentleman who was being hurried away was too much flurried to be able to grasp the young man’s innuendo, though one could see by the look that came to his face that he had an uneasy impression that Lieutenant Burney’s good wishes had not been happily expressed. The great thing, however, was that he was at the other side of the door, calling out his obligations to everyone, and striving to shake hands with them all at once and yet preserve the security of his hat, which he had tucked under his arm. So excited was he that he was only restrained at the last moment from mounting the Thrales’ carriage which was awaiting Dr. Burney, and even when his mistake was explained to him, he took off his hat to the splendid footman who had guarded the door of the vehicle.
In the room where the comedy had been played, Garrick and Lieutenant Burney had thrown themselves into chairs with roars of laughter, when Dr. Burney returned from the hall, carrying his hat and cane. He was scarcely smiling.
“You have played a pretty prank upon an inoffensive gentleman, the pair of you!” said he. “I am ashamed that my house has been used by you for so base a purpose! The poor gentleman!”
“Psha! my dear Doctor, make your mind easy; the lady will teach that coxcomb a lesson that will be of advantage to him for the rest of his life,” said Garrick. “He has been the laughing-stock of the Wells for the past fortnight, and no one laughed louder than the Widow Nash. She will bundle him out of her presence before he has had time to rise from his marrow-bones—he does not find the process a rapid one, I assure you. Oh, he was her bête noire even when he was most civil to her.”
“And it was you who concocted that plot of getting all your friends—Mrs. Cholmondeley, Mrs. Thrale and the rest—to make a fool of him, driving him away from the Wells to encounter a more irresistible pair of mocking demons in this room!” said Burney. “You cannot deny it, my friend, I know your tricks but too well.”
“I swear to you that I had no hope of encountering him in this house, my dear Doctor,” said Garrick. “I give you my word that I had laid my plans quite differently. My plot was a far more elaborate one, and Polly Cholmondeley had agreed to take part in it, as well as Dick Sheridan. They will be disappointed to learn that it has miscarried. Who could guess that he should come to you of all men in the world, Doctor? He has never been one of your intimates.”
“Only when I was living with Mr. Greville had we more than a superficial acquaintance,” replied Burney. “But that does not make me the less ashamed of having lent myself to your nefarious project. And you, James, you threw yourself with gusto into the fooling of the unhappy man—and woman too—and woman too, I repeat.”
“Pray do not distress yourself on her account, Doctor. She will send him off with a flea in his ear by to-morrow night, and she will take care to pose as the insulted widow of Mr. Nash, whose memory is dear to her,” said Garrick.