We were conducted up two pairs of stairs: for the dining-room, Mr. Branghton told us, was let. His two daughters, their brother, M. Du Bois, and a young man, were at tea. They had waited some time for Madame Duval, but I found they had not any expectation that I should accompany her; and the young ladies, I believe, were rather more surprised than pleased when I made my appearance; for they seemed hurt that I should see their apartment. Indeed, I would willingly have saved them that pain, had it been in my power.
The first person who saw me was M. Du Bois, “Ah, mon Dieu!” exclaimed he, “voila Mademoiselle!”
“Goodness,” cried young Branghton, “if there isn’t Miss!”
“Lord, so there is!” said Miss Polly; “well, I’m sure I should never have dreamed of Miss’s coming.”
“Nor I neither, I’m sure,” cried Miss Branghton, “or else I would not have been in this room to see her: I’m quite ashamed about it; — only not thinking of seeing any body but my aunt — however, Tom, it’s all your fault; for, you know very well I wanted to borrow Mr. Smith’s room, only you were so grumpy you would not let me.”
“Lord, what signifies?” said her brother; “I dare be sworn Miss has been up two pair of stairs before now; — ha’n’t you, Miss?”
I begged that I might not give them the least disturbance; and assured them that I had not any choice in regard to what room we sat in.
“Well,” said Miss Polly, “when you come next, Miss, we’ll have Mr. Smith’s room: and it’s a very pretty one, and only up one pair of stairs, and nicely furnished, and every thing.”
“To say the truth,” said Miss Branghton, “I thought that my cousin would not, upon any account, have come to town in the summer-time; for it’s not at all the fashion; — so, to be sure, thinks I, she’ll stay till September, when the play-houses open.”
This was my reception, which I believe you will not call a very cordial one. Madame Duval, who, after having severely reprimanded M. Du Bois for his negligence, was just entering upon the story of her misfortunes, now wholly engaged the company.
M. Du Bois listened to her with a look of the utmost horror, repeatedly lifting up his eyes and hands, and exclaiming, “O ciel! quel barbare!” The young ladies gave her the most earnest attention; but their brother, and the young man, kept a broad grin upon their faces during the whole recital. She was, however, too much engaged to observe them; but, when she mentioned having been tied in a ditch, young Branghton, no longer able to contain himself, burst into a loud laugh, declaring that he had never heard any thing so funny in his life! His laugh was heartily re-echoed by his friend; the Miss Branghtons could not resist the example; and poor Madame Duval, to her extreme amazement, was absolutely overpowered and stopped by the violence of their mirth.
For some minutes the room seemed quite in an uproar; the rage of Madame Duval, the astonishment of M. Du Bois, and the angry interrogatories of Mr. Branghton, on one side; the convulsive tittering of the sisters, and the loud laughs of the young men, on the other, occasioned such noise, passion and confusion, that had any one stopped an instant on the stairs, he must have concluded himself in Bedlam. At length, however, the father brought them to order; and, half-laughing, half-frightened, they made Madame Duval some very awkward apologies. But she would not be prevailed upon to continue her narrative, till they had protested they were laughing at the Captain, and not at her. Appeased by this, she resumed her story; which by the help of stuffing handkerchiefs into their mouths, the young people heard with tolerable decency.
Every body agreed, that the ill-usage the Captain had given her was actionable; and Mr. Branghton said, he was sure she might recover what damages she pleased, since she had been put in fear of her life.
She then, with great delight, declared, that she would lose no time in satisfying her revenge, and vowed she would not be contented with less than half his fortune: “For though,” she said, “I don’t put no value upon the money, because, Dieu merci, I ha’n’t no want of it, yet I don’t wish for nothing so much as to punish that fellow; for I’m sure, whatever’s the cause of it, he owes me a great grudge, and I know no more what it’s for than you do; but he’s always been doing me one spite or another ever since I knew him.”
Soon after tea, Miss Branghton took an opportunity to tell me, in a whisper, that the young man I saw was a lover of her sister’s, that his name was Brown, and that he was a haberdasher: with many other particulars of his circumstances and family; and then she declared her utter aversion to the thoughts of such a match; but added, that her sister had no manner of spirit or ambition, though, for her part, she would ten times rather die an old maid, than marry any person but a gentleman. “And, for that matter,” added she, “I believe Polly herself don’t care much for him, only she’s in such a hurry, because, I suppose, she’s a mind to be married before me; however, she’s very welcome; for, I’m sure, I don’t care a pin’s point whether I ever marry at all; — it’s all one to me.”
Some time after this, Miss Polly contrived to tell her story. She assured me, with much tittering, that her sister was in a great fright lest she should be married first. “So I make her believe that I will,” continued she; “for I dearly love to plague her a little; though, I declare, I don’t intend to have Mr. Brown in reality; — I’m sure I don’t like him half well enough — do you, Miss?”
“It is not possible for me to judge of his merits,” said I, “as I am entirely a stranger to him.”
“But what do you think of him, Miss?”
“Why, really, I— I don’t know.”
“But do you think him handsome? Some people reckon him to have a good pretty person; — but I’m sure, for my part, I think he’s monstrous ugly:— don’t you, Miss?”
“I am no judge — but I think his person is very — very well.”
“Very well! — Why, pray Miss,” in a tone of vexation, “what fault can you find with it?”
“O, none at all!”
“I’m sure you must be very ill-natured if you could. Now there’s Biddy says she thinks nothing of him — but I know it’s all out of spite. You must know, Miss, it makes her as mad as can be that I should have a lover before her; but she’s so proud that nobody will court her, and I often tell her she’ll die an old maid. But the thing is, she has taken it into her head to have a liking for Mr. Smith, as lodges on the first floor; but, Lord, he’ll never have her, for he’s quite a fine gentleman; and besides, Mr. Brown heard him say one day, that he’d never marry as long as he lived, for he’d no opinion of matrimony.”
“And did you tell your sister this?”
“O, to be sure, I told her directly; but she did not mind me; however, if she will be a fool she must.”
This extreme want of affection and good-nature increased the distaste I already felt for these unamiable sisters; and a confidence so entirely unsolicited and unnecessary, manifested equally their folly and their want of decency.
I was very glad when the time for our departing arrived. Mr. Branghton said our lodgings were in Holborn, that we might be near his house, and neighbourly. He accompanied us to them himself.
Our rooms are large, and not inconvenient; our landlord is an hosier. I am sure I have a thousand reasons to rejoice that I am so little known: for my present situation is, in every respect, very unenviable; and I would not, for the world, be seen by any acquaintance of Mrs. Mirvan.
This morning, Madame Duval, attended by all the Branghtons, actually went to a Justice in the neighborhood, to report the Captain’s ill usage of her. I had great difficulty in excusing myself from being of the party, which would have given me very serious concern. Indeed, I was extremely anxious, though at home, till I heard the result