“The lady’s reply was disappointing, though dignified,” replied Mrs. Thrale. “‘Sir,’ she said, ‘I have oft heard that the credulity of a man has no limits, but I have never before had so conspicuous an instance of the truth of this. Surely the merest schoolboy would have been able to inform you that you were being made the victim of one of Mr. Garrick’s silly jests—that these ladies here lent themselves to the transaction, hoping to make a fool of me as well as of you; but I trust that they are now aware of the fact that I, at least, perceived the truth from the first, so that whoever has been fooled I am not that person; and so I have the honour to wish you and them a very good evening.’ Then she treated us to a very elaborate curtsey and stalked away to the door, leaving us all amazed at her display of dignity—real dignity, not the stage imitation, Mr. Garrick.”
“You should have been there, if only to receive a lesson, Mr. Garrick,” said Mrs. Damer.
“I hope those who had the good fortune to be present were taught a lesson,” said another lady in the circle.
“If you mean me, madam,” said Mrs. Thrale, with tactful good humour, “I frankly allow that I profited greatly by observing the scene. ’Tis a dangerous game to play—that of trying to show others in a ridiculous light, and in future I vow that all my attention shall be given to the duty of avoiding making a fool of myself. Your jest miscarried, Mr. Garrick; though how that gentleman who fled from the Wells in that headlong fashion was induced to return, is beyond my knowledge.”
“Psha! madam, the fellow is a coxcomb and not worth discussing,” cried Garrick. “He got no more than his deserts when the lady left him to be the laughing-stock of the Assembly. I knew that that would be his fate if he ever succeeded in summing up sufficient courage to face her.”
“But strange to say, we did not laugh at him then,” said Mrs. Thrale. “He seemed to be quite a different man from the one whom we had tried to fool two days earlier. There was a certain dignity about him that disarmed us. You must allow, Mr. Garrick, that only the bravest of men would have had the courage to march up the Assembly Rooms and make his proposal to the lady in public.”
“That is the courage of the coxcomb who believes himself to be irresistible to the other sex, madam,” said Garrick; “and I affirm that ’twas most reprehensible to refrain from laughing at him.” Then, putting his arm through that of Burney as if to stroll on with him, and so give the others to understand that he had had enough of Mr. Kendal as a topic, he whispered:
“Ha, my friend, did not I prophesy aright what would be the fellow’s fate? I know men, and women, too—ay, in some measure, though they are sealed books, eh, friend Burney? And you tried to persuade me that she would not snub him? I knew better—I knew that she—eh, what—what are they staring at?”
“They are staring at the appearance of Mr. Kendal with the Widow Nash on his arm—there they are, David, and you are staring at them too,” said Burney with a smile.