Lord Orville was in excellent spirits, and exceedingly entertaining.
When the Play was over, I flattered myself I should be able to look about me with less restraint, as we intended to stay the Farce; but the curtain had hardly dropped when the box-door opened, and in came Mr. Lovel, the man by whose foppery and impertinence I was so much teazed at the ball where I first saw Lord Orville.
I turned away my head, and began talking to Miss Mirvan, for I was desirous to avoid speaking to him!—but in vain, for as soon as he had made his compliments to Lord Orville and Sir Clement Willoughby, who returned them very coldly, he bent his head forward, and said to me, "I hope, Ma'am, you have enjoyed your health since I had the honour—I beg ten thousand pardons, but I protest I was going to say the honour of dancing with you—however, I mean the honour of seeing you dance?"
He spoke with a self-complacency that convinced me he had studied this address, by way of making reprisals for my conduct at the ball: I therefore bowed slightly, but made no answer.
After a short silence, he again called my attention, by saying, in an easy, negligent way, "I think, Ma'am, you was never in town before?"
"No,
