In which miss Woodby again makes her appearance.
In about a quarter of an hour, Mrs. Eccles appeared in a long loose linen sack, being her morning dress, and insisted upon miss Courteney’s breakfasting with her; who at length consented, having agreed to pay at the rate of a guinea a week for her board, during the time she stayed, which she inly determined should not be long.
After the tea-things were removed, she went into the shop to make a purchase of some ribbons and gloves; and while she was amusing herself with looking over a great variety of fashionable trifles, which the apprentice officiously shewed her, a young gentleman, who had been attracted by her appearance, came into the shop, and asked to look at some Dresden ruffles. Henrietta, blushing at the earnestness with which he gazed on her, retired immediately, telling Mrs. Eccles, as she passed through the parlour, that there was a gentleman in the shop. The millener, upon this information, lifted up her hands mechanically to her head to adjust her hair, and hastened to attend her customer; while her fair lodger, taking a book that lay in the window, went to her apartment, with an intention to amuse herself with reading till the longed-for return of her messenger.
The book however, which was a volume of the New Atlantis,8 did not suit her taste; she threw it away, and abandoned herself to her own melancholy reflections, which were at length interrupted by her landlady, who entered the room with a smiling air, telling her, she had had a very good customer.
“I am glad of it,” said Henrietta.
“Truly,” said Mrs. Eccles, “I believe I am obliged to your fair face for my good luck this morning.” “How!—” returned the young lady, with a countenance graver than before.
“Nay, never wonder at it,” said Mrs. Eccles, “the gentleman laid out twelve guineas with me; but I don’t believe he wanted the things he bought. You were the loadstone,” added she smartly, “that drew him into the shop.—He asked me a hundred questions about you.”
“I am sorry for it,” said miss Courteney, “I wish I had not been in the shop.” “And why sorry? pray,” resumed Mrs. Eccles, “I warrant you are sorry you are handsome too—However, I have another thing to tell you, to increase your sorrow, and that is, that you have certainly made a conquest of this fine spark; and, to overwhelm you with affliction,” pursued she laughing, “I verily believe he is a man of quality.”
“Do you know him then,” said miss Courteney; who could not help smiling a little at her vivacity.
“I only judge by his appearance and manners,” replied Mrs. Eccles, “that he is a man of rank; but I dare say, we shall hear more from him.” “Sure—Mrs. Eccles!” interrupted miss Courteney, with some emotion.
“Nay, nay, child,” exclaimed Mrs. Eccles, “don’t put yourself into a flurry; I don’t know that I shall ever see him again—But, pray what book have you got here?” “One I found in your parlour,” said miss Courteney. “Oh, I see what it is,” cried Mrs. Eccles, opening it; “it is a charming pretty book. If you love reading, miss, I can furnish you with books; I have a very pretty collection—” “I should be glad to see your collection,” said the young lady, who was apprehensive of her renewing a conversation that had been very disagreeable to her.
Mrs. Eccles immediately led her into a little room on the same floor, and opening a closet, in which there were about two dozen books ranged on a shelf, she bid her take her choice, for there was variety enough.
Henrietta soon examined the so much boasted collection, which she found chiefly consisted of novels and plays. “Well,” said Mrs. Eccles, “how do you like my books? are they not prettily chosen?”
“I assure you,” replied she taking down one, “you chose very well when you chose this; for it is one of the most exquisite pieces of humour in our language.” “I knew you would approve of my taste,” said Mrs. Eccles, “but what have you got?—O! the Adventures of Joseph Andrews—Yes; that is a very pretty book, to be sure!—but there is Mrs. Haywood’s Novels,9 did you ever read them?—Oh! they are the finest love-sick, passionate stories; I assure you, you’ll like them vastly: pray, take a volume of Haywood upon my recommendation.” “Excuse me,” said Henrietta, “I am very well satisfied with what I have; I have read this book three times already, and yet I assure you, I shall begin it again with as much eagerness and delight as I did at first.”
“Well, as you please,” said Mrs. Eccles, leaving her at the door of her own chamber, “I won’t disturb you till dinner is ready.”
Miss Courteney sat down to her book, which agreeably engaged her attention, till she was interrupted with the pleasing news of her porter’s being returned: she flew down stairs; he delivered her a letter, the seal of which she eagerly broke, and found it as follows.
CELINDA to her dearest CLELIA.
NO words can describe the excess of my grief at the news of your disappointment: but, my dear, how was it possible for your chairmen to mistake the house so egregiously—not know where Mrs. Egret lived! Foolish fellows! she is one of the greatest milleners in town, and employed by persons of the first rank. But don’t be uneasy, I shall see you this afternoon: your messenger found me preparing to set out for town with my aunt—Adieu, my Clelia, and believe me with the most unparallel’d affection, ever your’s,
CELINDA.
The hopes of seeing her friend, and being settled in more agreeable lodgings, gave Henrietta such a flow of spirits, that when she was summoned to dinner by her landlady, she appeared less reserved than usual, and even kept up the conversation with some kind of chearfulness. Mrs. Eccles, finding her in so good a humour, introduced the subject which ran most in her head—The fine young gentleman, who had been her customer in the morning, was praised in raptures of admiration—so genteel, so well bred—such sparkling eyes, such an air of distinction—Every now and then exclaiming—“Well, you have certainly made a conquest of him—we shall see him again, never fear—he’ll find his way here again, I warrant him.”
Miss Courteney, to put an end to this discourse, told her landlady, that she expected a lady to drink tea with her that afternoon; Mrs. Eccles immediately gave orders for the dining-room to be put in order, and thither miss Courteney retired in expectation of her visiter. At six o’clock a footman’s rap at the door anounced the arrival of miss Woodby; Henrietta ran to the head of the stairs to receive her.
“O Heavens! my dear creature,” cried miss Woodby, “What trouble have I been in upon your account!—but even the disquiets of friendship are pleasing; I would not be insensible of that charming passion, nor without an object of it for the world.”
Miss Courteney thanked her in very obliging terms, while her sentimental friend adjusted her dress in the glass, and then throwing herself into a chair, declared that she was all impatience to hear her history.
“Permit me,” said miss Courteney, “to inform you first, that I am not easy here, I do not greatly like my landlady, and I wish I could remove this very night.” Miss Woodby told her it was impossible, because she had not yet seen Mrs. Egret, but that she would go to her in the morning, and prepare her for her coming. Henrietta, being now at ease, complied with her friend’s request, and began her little history in this manner.