September 8.—
What painful minutes
am I obliged to sustain! Mrs. Gerrarde
has been to see me, gay and assured as
ever. She affected to condole with us
on the accident that happened to my foot,
with such an overstrained concern, such
a tender solicitude, that her insincerity
disgusted me, if possible, more than the
other part of her behaviour. She told me,
she herself had been at the play, but
very luckily had got out without receiving
any injury. I said, I was surprized
I had not seen her there. O,
replied she, I was in a little snug corner,
where nobody could see me; for having
refused to go with some ladies that asked
me, I did not choose to be visible in the
house, and so squeezed myself up into what
they called their gallery, for I took nobody
with me but my maid. Audacious
woman!—Is it not strange, my dear, that
Mr. Arnold could be so weak as to humour
her in the absurd frolick of going
with her to such a place? For so it must
have been; or perhaps she appointed him
only to call for her at the play; and he
might have arrived but just in time to
assist her in getting out. No matter which
it was.
