of her pity, she had herself unwittingly sought, even to him she was as immutably silent, on this subject, as to all others—­save, singly, to the eldest daughter of the house:  whose conduct, through scenes of dreadful difficulty, notwithstanding her extreme youth, was even exemplary; and to whom the self-beguiled, yet generous mother, gave full and free permission to confide every thought and feeling to the Memorialist.”

* * * * *

“Various incidental circumstances began, at length, to open the reluctant eyes of Dr. Burney to an impelled, though clouded foresight, of the portentous event which might latently be the cause of the alteration of all around at Streatham.  He then naturally wished for some explanation with his daughter, though he never forced, or even claimed her confidence; well knowing, that voluntarily to give it him had been her earliest delight.

“But in taking her home with him one morning, to pass a day in St. Martin’s Street, he almost involuntarily, in driving from the paddock, turned back his head towards the house, and, in a tone the most impressive, sighed out:  ‘Adieu, Streatham!—­Adieu!’”

* * * * *

“A few weeks earlier, the Memorialist had passed a nearly similar scene with Dr. Johnson.  Not, however, she believes, from the same formidable species of surmise; but from the wounds inflicted upon his injured sensibility, through the palpably altered looks, tone, and deportment, of the bewildered lady of the mansion; who, cruelly aware what would be his wrath, and how overwhelming his reproaches against her projected union, wished to break up their residing under the same roof before it should be proclaimed.

“This gave to her whole behaviour towards Dr. Johnson, a sort of restless petulancy, of which she was sometimes hardly conscious, at others, nearly reckless; but which hurt him far more than she purposed, though short of the point at which she aimed, of precipitating a change of dwelling that would elude its being cast, either by himself or the world, upon a passion that her understanding blushed to own, even while she was sacrificing to it all of inborn dignity that she had been bred to hold most sacred.

“Dr. Johnson, while still uninformed of an entanglement it was impossible he should conjecture, attributed her varying humours to the effect of wayward health meeting a sort of sudden wayward power:  and imagined that caprices, which he judged to be partly feminine, and partly wealthy, would soberise themselves away in being unnoticed.”

“But at length, as she became more and more dissatisfied with her own situation, and impatient for its relief, she grew less and less scrupulous with regard to her celebrated guest:  she slighted his counsel; did not heed his remonstrances; avoided his society; was ready at a moment’s hint to lend him her carriage when he wished to return to Bolt Court; but awaited a formal request to accord it for bringing him back.