“I dare say so,” said her majesty.  “I must tell Miss Burney a little trait of Sophia, about Mr. Webb.”

A small table was before the queen, who always has it brought when she is seated, to put her tea or work upon, or, when she has neither, to look comfortable, I believe ; for certainly it takes off much formality in a standing circle.  And close to this, by the gracious motion of her head, she kept me.

“When first,” continued she, “Mr. Webb was to come to Sophia, I told her he had had some accident to disfigure his whole face, by making him an enormous nose; but I desired her to remember this was a misfortune, for which he ought to be pitied, and that she must be sure not to laugh at it, nor stare at it.  And she minded this very well, and behaved always very properly.  But, while Lady Cremorne was at the Lodge, she Was with Sophia when Mr. Webb came to give her a lesson.  As soon as he was named, she coloured very red, and ran up to Lady Cremorne, and said to her in a whisper, ’Lady Cremorne, Mr. Webb has got a very great nose, but that is only to be pitied —­so mind you don’t laugh.’”

This little princess is just nine years old!

The king joined us while the queen was telling this, and added, “Poor Mr. Webb was very much discountenanced when he first saw me, and tried to hide his nose, by a great nosegay, or I believe only a branch, which he held before it:  but really that had so odd a look, that it was worse, and more ridiculous, than his nose.  However, I hope he does not mind me, now, for I have seen him four or five times.”

GENERAL CONVERSATION:  ROYALTY DEPARTS.

After this, Mrs. Delany mentioned Madame de la Fite and her son.

The queen said, “He is a pretty little boy; and when be goes to school, it will do him ’good,” 312

" Where will she send him ? " said the king.

The queen, looking at me, with a smile answered,
“To the school where Mr. Locke puts his sons.  I know that!”

“And where is that?”

“Indeed I don’t know; where is it, Miss Burney?”

“At Cheam, ma’am.”

“Oh, at young Gilpin’s?” cried the king.  “Is it near Mr. Locke’s?”

“Yes, sir; within about six miles, I believe.”

The queen, then, with a little arch smile, that seemed to premise she should make me stare, said,

“It was there, at Mr. Locke’s, your sister(196) laid in?”

“O yes, ma’am!” cried I, out of breath with surprise.

The king repeated my “O yes!” and said, “I fancy—­by that O —­you were frightened a little for her?  What?”

I could not but assent to that; and the king, who seemed a good deal diverted at the accident—­for he loves little babies too well to look upon it, as most people would, to be a shocking business—­questioned me about it.

“How was it?” said he,—­“how happened it?  Could not she get home?”