My cousins and I, by invitation, supped with Lady G—— this evening.
Lord and Lady L—— were there; Lady Olivia also, and Lady Maffei.
I have set them all into a consternation, as they expressed themselves, by my declaration of leaving London on my return home early on Friday morning next. I knew, that were I to pass the whole summer here, I must be peremptory at last. The two sisters vow, that I shall not go so soon. They say, that I have seen so few of the town diversions—Town diversions, Lucy!—I have had diversion enough, of one sort!—But in your arms, my dear friends, I shall have consolation—And I want it.
I have great regrets, and shall have hourly more, as the day approaches, on the leaving of such dear and obliging friends: but I am determined.
My cousin's coach will convey me to Dunstable; and there, I know, I shall meet with my indulgent uncle, or your brother. I would not have it publicly known, because of the officious gentlemen in the neighbourhood.
Dr. Bartlett intended to set out for Grandison-hall to-morrow: but from the natural kindness of his heart he has suspended his journey to Thursday next. No consideration, therefore, shall detain me, if I am well.
My cousins are grieved: they did not expect that I would be a word and a blow, as they phrase it.
Lady Olivia expressed herself concerned, that she, in particular, was to lose me. She had proposed great pleasure, she said, in the parties she should make in my company. But, after what Emily told me, she appears to me as a Medusa; and were I to be thought by her a formidable rival, I might have as much reason to be afraid of the potion, as the man she loves of the poniard. Emily has kept the secret from every body but me. And I rely on the inviolable secrecy of all you, my friends.
Lord and Lady L—— had designed to go to Colnebrook to-morrow, or at my day, having hopes of getting me with them: but now, they say, they will stay in town till they can see whether I am to be prevailed upon, or will be obdurate.
Lady Olivia inquired after the distance of Northamptonshire. She will make the tour of England, she says, and visit me there. I was obliged to say I should take her visit as an honour.
Wicked politeness! Of how many falsehoods dost thou make the people, who are called polite, guilty!