Sunday, July 26, 1829

1829 July

Sunday 26

(Got up at) 7 3/4 / (Went to bed at) 11 10/60

Found a pot in the outside gallery round the court and did all I wanted in the little passage outside our room door, and then left the pot in the gallery.  Cleaned my teeth, and with only my dressing gown on, went to Miss Hobart’s bedside and knelt by her talking near an hour.  She had said last night Sibella would be pleased to  know we were such friends.  Agreeableized. Her eyes so swelled, thought she must have been bit till she said no and told me how it was (from crying).  Spoke of the interest and tenderness of my feeling towards her.  My aunt poorly, might not live long. I could not live by myself. . . Why did I not marry. Because if I could not have exactly the person I fancied, would not have any.  Ah, said she, you make so much of fancy. Yes, I said, to fancy a person means much with me. Then said we could not always control our regard; were sometimes obliged to give or withhold it almost in spite of ourselves, to which

she seemed to agree.  Said I wished her to marry and have a little girl, and if she would call it Sibella, she might give her child as many family sponsors as she chose.  I would be sponsor too.  She made no direct answer, but afterwards told me I was partial. I was attached to few and therefore attached myself very warmly, and gave my friends credit for more perfections than they really had.  This, of course, I disclaimed. Shut her up in the cabinet while washed and dressed.

Breakfast, café au lait and a roll each, at 10, and took George and walked to the chateau (went out at 10 1/2).  The little low room in which Francis the First died, in the great old tower, interesting.  A good comfortable house for any private gentleman – the salle des bains fitted up by Napoleon for the empress Josephine very pretty, all painted in fresco with different little medallion views of different royal chateaux, and arms, and implements of different trades, etc.  About an hour in the house, shewn over by a very intelligent man in livery who had been

valet to one of Napoleon’s generals and had been with his master who was with Napoleon, all over in the campaign in Russia, Spain, etc. etc.

The water looks very formal from the house.  Ordered the boat, and had just put off in it, when the architect and a party called the boat back, and we, not much liking this, left it and took our guardsman guide and set off to walk over the grounds.  Stiff avenues and formal walks laid out by Lenotre.  Saw no game.  The grotto so small a mere nothing.  The coquillage (a sort of octagonal banquetting room lined with shells, pretty enough.  The laiterie very pretty,  the prettiest thing of the kind I ever saw.  Should have liked to see the farm, but it was 1/4 hour’s walk distant and too far for Miss Hobart, who was tired especially as it was not a thing to interest.  The merino sheep too, out in the pastures – one should go at six in the evening when they are brought up.  The vénerie (dog kennels) too rather too far off, though only about 10 minutes from the chateau – but this I did not care more about than Miss Hobart did, so we returned and got home in 3 hours at 1 1/2.

A message from our postillion (now coachman, since having the remise and driving on the box) to say he could not do more than meet us at Coignières.   Sat down over a bottle of sirop de groseilles and the rest of our biscuits.  Sat talking.  Ordered a pair of posters.  Off at 2 50/60 from the Lion d’Or (where the diligences stop and where there is a café – a small but tolerably comfortable house) and got to Coignières in 1 20/60 hour at 4 10/60.  Our coachman ready at the cheval Blanc, and put to his horses, and off from Coignières at 4 20/60.  Drove into the yard at Johnson’s, Avenue de Sceaux No. 4, at Versailles, at 6 1/4.  Sat in the carriage 3/4 hour

while the horses baited, and off again at 7.  Set Miss H- Hobart down at the Embassy, and got home at 9.

 From Rambouillet, she read me her journal, beginning a new volume with the day we went to Mortefontaine. She mentioned the rainy day, and wrote ‘talked sense and nonsense,’ then afterwards just let me glance at ‘liked some of Miss Lister’s conversation better than the place’ or something to that effect  She missed a good deal, and in fact the rest was stupid enough, though I certainly did not let it appear that I thought so.

She took out Sibella’s last letter to her, but somehow did not get it read  Then gave me her last from her cousin, Charles Stuart, lamenting the loss of his last six months journal.  People would

wonder who could be the dear Vere mentioned on every page.  A nice, gentlemanly, affectionate

letter.  Thus we got to Coignières.  

Then talked of one thing or other.  She said I complimented her on her discretion, and she thought of me the other night when Henry Stuart did the same (Lord Wharncliffe’s son). I said I  feared the three yew trees would not make a pretty seal, and we seemed to live it up.  Thus we got to Versailles.

The carriage being in front of a parcel of stableboys dressing their horses, I, to shut the sight, let down all the blinds.  Said she, they will think us in disguise.  Right, said I, and put up the blinds again, and praised her discretion saying how much hers was greater than mine, for I had done the thing without a thought.

Said she had pretty nails, would look at them.  Then got out my little dressing box and scissors and cut them. Her manner was then playful and arch and natural. I joked and said she had no confidence in me, could not trust me to cut them right, but thought she would have more confidence by and by.  This word confidence seemed to change the scene. She said gravely

she did not give her confidence easily. She had been deceived, and was now suspicious. I said this generally happened to us all, then moralized a little, then agreeablized.  Said how tired

she looked.  Expressed a thousand regrets.   She dozed a little.

 Just as we came into Paris, unluckily joked and said though she had no confidence in me now, I hoped she soon would, and knew she would have more by and by. I thought of nothing but the cutting her nails. Judge my surprise when she immediately answered impatiently, ‘you are always talking of my confidence, as if there was some great secret I had to tell that you wanted to get out of me.  I have no secrets. I don’t like lack confidence. I hate palaver.’  I merely said

quietly, I really did not mean the word in the sense she took it. I was merely joking about it and certainly neither thought of secrets nor wished to extract them, but I really did complain of her

misunderstanding me so entirely.  She seemed to recollect herself, but we were just at the door

and I wished her good night in return to her ‘goodbye dear.’ I was annoyed and thought to myself,  well, I will mind better another time.  There is an end of our journey together.  She is suspicious, as she says herself. She is always perhaps doubting one’s motive. She is a noodle and there is an end of it.  If I could have her, I should only be in a scrape. I may be happy with Pi. My chance would not be great with Miss Hobart.

A few drops of rain soon after leaving Versailles, but they passed off till we got within about 1/2 mile of the Barrière of Passy, and from there home, and for some time afterwards, it rained heavily.  Felt rather tired, the soreness of my throat not at all gone off.  Seemed to have got cold.

Got home at 9.  Found my aunt pretty well, and dinner at 9 10/60 in about 1/2 hour.  Then talked to my aunt and came to my room at 10 1/4.  Said not a word to my aunt about the accident to the carriage.  Thought more of this foolish girl than I ought to have done and more than enough annoyed.

Found on my desk a letter from Mister Briggs dated Harrogate 20 July, in answer to mine begging to have his account.  Nothing particular.  Hoped I should get the account a day or 2 after sending off my letter.  All settled about the water at Lower Brea. Thomas Greenwood had not paid the £60.

 

WYAS Finding Numbers SH:7/ML/E/12/0062 and SH:7/ML/E/12/0063