“'Twas Mr. Garrick who continued his fooling of Mr. Kendal, sending him all over the town trying to make matches. He believes that he is under a debt of gratitude to Mr. Garrick and your father for the happiness he enjoys with his bride.”
“And he suggested that a match might be made between someone in St. Martins Street and someone in the Poultry? But how does Mr. Kendal come to be acquainted with the Barlowes?”
“His wife was a Johnson before she married her first husband, and the Johnsons are closely connected with the Barlowes.”
“Young Mr. Barlowe was just coming to the family history of the Johnsons when I interrupted him.”
“Was he coming to any other matter that concerned you more closely, think you?”
Fanny laughed again, only much longer this time than before. She had to wipe her eyes before she could answer.
“Dear mamma,” she said, “you would laugh as heartily if you had seen him when he suddenly recollected that in his eagerness to make me acquainted with the glories of the Kensits and the abilities of the Johnsons, he had neglected the object of his excursion to that room with my poor self, until it was too late.”
“I doubt it,” said Mrs. Burney. “I do not laugh at incidents of that sort. I lose patience when I hear of a young man neglecting his chances when they are offered to him. But had he ever a chance with you, Fanny?”
“Not the remotest, dear mamma. If he had remembered to speak in time, and if he had spoken with all the eloquence of his admirable uncle, the Alderman, he would not have succeeded. If Thomas Barlowe were the last man in the world I should e'en die an old maid.”
“That is a foolish thing for you to say. You may die an old maid for that. But indeed when I saw young Mr. Barlowe in his home, I perceived that he was not for you. I could not see you a member of that family, worthy though they may be.”