YESTERDAY Mr. Smith carried his point of making a party for Vauxhall, consisting of Madame Duval, M. Du Bois, all the Branghtons, Mr. Brown, himself,-and me!-for I find all endeavours vain to escape any thing which these people desire I should not.
There were twenty disputes previous to our setting out; first, as to
the time of our going: Mr. Branghton, his son, and young Brown, were
for six o'clock; and all the ladies and Mr. Smith were for eight;-the
latter, however, conquered.
Then, as to the way we should go; some were for a boat, others for
a coach, and Mr. Branghton himself was for walking; but the boat
at length was decided upon. Indeed this was the only part of the
expedition that was agreeable to me; for the Thames was delightfully
pleasant.
The garden is very pretty, but too formal; I should have been better
pleased, had it consisted less of straight walks, where
Grove nods at grove, each alley has its brother.
The trees, the numerous lights, and the company in the circle round
the orchestra make a most brilliant and gay appearance; and had I been
with a party less disagreeable to me, I should have thought it a place
formed for animation and pleasure. There was a concert; in the course
of which a hautbois concerto was so charmingly played, that I could
have thought myself upon enchanted ground, had I had spirits more
gentle to associate with. The hautbois in the open air is heavenly.
Mr. Smith endeavoured to attach himself to me, with such officious
assiduity and impertinent freedom, that he quite sickened me. Indeed
M. Du Bois was the only man of the party to whom, voluntarily, I
ever addressed myself. He is civil and respectful, and I have found
nobody else so since I left Howard Grove. His English is very bad; but I prefer it to speaking French myself, which I dare not venture to do. I converse with him frequently, both to disengage myself from others, and to oblige Madame Duval, who is always pleased when he is attended to.
As we were walking about the orchestra, I heard a bell ring; and, in a moment, Mr. Smith, flying up to me, caught my hand, and, with a motion too quick to be resisted, ran away with me many yards before I had breath to ask his meaning, though I struggled as well as I could, to get from him. At last, however, I insisted upon stopping: "Stopping, Ma'am!" cried he, "why we must run on or we shall lose the cascade!"
And then again he hurried me away, mixing with a crowd of people, all running with so much velocity, that I could not imagine what had raised such an alarm. We were soon followed by the rest of the party; and my surprise and ignorance proved a source of diversion to them all, which was not exhausted the whole evening. Young Branghton, in particular, laughed till he could hardly stand.
The scene of the cascade I thought extremely pretty, and the general
effect striking and lively.
But this was not the only surprise which was to divert them at my
expense; for they led me about the garden purposely to enjoy my first
sight of various other deceptions.
About ten o'clock, Mr. Smith having chosen a box in a very conpicuous
place, we all went to supper. Much fault was found with every thing
that was ordered, though not a morsel of any thing was left; and the
dearness of the provisions, with conjectures upon what profit was
made by them, supplied discourse during the whole meal.
When wine and cyder were brought, Mr. Smith said, "Now let's enjoy
ourselves; now is the time, or never. Well, Ma'am, and how do you
like Vauxhall?"
"Like it!" cried young Branghton; "why, how can she help liking
it? she has never seen such a place before, that I'll answer for."
"For my part," said Miss Branghton, "I like it because it is not
vulgar."
"This must have been a fine treat for you, Miss," said Mr. Branghton; "why, I suppose you was never so happy in all your life before?"
I endeavoured to express my satisfaction with some pleasure; yet, I believe, they were much amazed at my coldness.
"Miss ought to stay in town till the last night," said young Branghton; "and then, it's my belief, she'd say something to it! Why, Lord, it's the best night of any; there's always a riot,-and there the folks run about,-and then there's such squealing and squalling!-and, there, all the lamps are broke,-and the women run skimper scamper.-I declare I would not take five guineas to miss the last night!"