Tuesday August 30.
Mr. Curzon is to be at Mr Boyd’s today. I hope he will be satisfied with regard to his spiritual state,—& that Miss Gibbons may not intrude her commentary on character. Will there be a letter today. Bummy hopes yes. I fear yes; & hope no. The next news is not likely to be good news.
I have been exploring Dawes this morning, & writing his critical emendations on Euripides & Sophocles in the margins of my books. Have’nt tried the digamma yet. Kidds notes upon it, are not put in an interesting form.
A little of Isocrates—, & then Eliza Cliffe came. Went down stairs, & found her & Bummy discussing cum furore, the Walls. I said little, & meant to have said nothing. Poor Eliza shd. not suffer by hearing her friend spoken harshly of; when she has to suffer by knowing that this friend deserves it. She dined with us—and just before dinner, the letters came. One from my dear Papa, to me—& dated the isle of Wight— He seems pleased with it—delighted with the scenery & Mr. Sipthorpe.[1] Oh if he shd. intend to settle there—if we shd. be separated from England by the sea!— Mr. Boyd will not follow us there— I hope, I hope, this dungeon in the air, will fall into ruins. Hastings, Eastbourne, Brighton—Portsmouth—any place but the isle of Wight!—
Dont let me fall into a Pythian fury, yet, at any rate.[2] I thank God that my dearest Papa is better!—
B A & I went in the carriage to the Wyche, & Eliza was our cavalry escort. Bummy was heroic enough to walk along the whole length of the terrace as far as the great elm, without her head having any extra motion, circularly. I rode Eliza’s horse whch. Eliza led. Proposed—that I shd. run down to see Mr. Boyd. Down I went, & Eliza with me,—and yet not with me, for I was before her. I ran, slipped, rolled, presto prestissimo, to the bottom. Got into Mr. Boyd’s room, & got scolded for being out of breath—the necessary result of such a descensus averni. Told him of Papa’s letter. He hoped that we shd. not go to the isle of Wight, & recommended me to write tomorrow a petition that in the case of our leaving Hope End, Papa wd. settle at Hastings or Eastbourne. Now he certainly wd. not care where we settled, if he had no idea of following us. It is clear to my mind that he has that idea, & I have been made very happy by it.
Mr. Curzon was at dinner with the rest of the party. Mr. Boyd smiled when I said “I never thought until this moment, of his meaning to be here today”.
Eliza came into the room—& immediately Mr. Boyd began with “I have to congratulate you Miss Cliffe, on the late amiable conduct of yr. friend Miss Wall.” I interposed, but Mrs. Boyd’s calling me out of the room, made void my interposition. An explanation of Annie’s doings at Stanwell. She is not coming home. Back again to Mr. Boyd. I upbraided him for his attack on Eliza, & wished him good bye. He told me that he disliked my coming for so short a time; & hoped that I wd. visit him meo more “long measure”, before long. Promised!— Miss Gibbons came into the room for a moment, & embraced me, & begged that of the two minutes I was going to spend at Ruby Cottage, I wd. spare a quarter of one to Mr. Curzon & herself!—after all I forgot it, & went out of the house without seeing him, or re-seeing her. A happy little visit. Ascended the hill capitally. If Horace had been there, nil admirari wd. never have been written;—so I am rather glad he was not. Bummy said “I will trust you again[”]: & towards home we went. Met the Martins by the rocky seat— Mr. M in trepidation & consternation at my determination of riding by the horse which Mr. de Marizet[3] was leading. He begged me to get off in vain; & at length decided that “temerity & timidity were the characteristics of my sex”. They wanted us to drink tea at Colwall & to wait for them at the turnpike, neither of whch. we did. Got home in the dark. So ends this chapter of my life, which is a kind of chapter of hats—& walking shoes!—
1. The Rev. Richard Waldo Sibthorp (1792–1879), incumbent of St. James’s Church, Ryde, Isle of Wight.
2. Described in a letter to H.S.B. as “Pythian contortions & agitations of her body, which always precede an oracle” (letter of [10 December 1831]; see BC, 2, 333–335).
3. A French guest of the Martins.
