ary, so far as we have observed,
which shows Miss Burney to have been aware that she was the native of a
free country, that she could not be pressed for a waiting maid against
her will, and that she had just as good a right to live, if she chose,
in St. Martin's Street, as Queen Charlotte had to live at St. James's.
The Queen promised that, after the next birthday, Miss Burney should be
set at liberty. But the promise was ill kept; and her Majesty showed
displeasure at being reminded of it. At length Frances was informed that
in a fortnight her attendance should cease. "I heard this," she says,
"with a fearful presentiment I should surely never go through another
fortnight in so weak and languishing and painful a state of health....
As the time of separation approached, the Queen's cordiality rather
diminished, and traces of internal displeasure appeared sometimes,
arising from an opinion I ought rather to have struggled on, live or
die, than to quit her. Yet I am sure she saw how poor was my own chance,
except by a change in the mode of life, and at least ceased to wonder,
though she could not approve." Sweet Queen! What noble candor, to admit
that the undutifulness of people, who did not think the honor of
adjusting her tuckers worth the sacrifice of their own lives, was,
though highly criminal, not altogether unnatural!
We perfectly understand her Majesty's contempt for the lives of others
where her own pleasure was concerned. But what pleasure she can have
found in having Miss Burney about her, it is not so easy to comprehend.
That Miss Burney was an eminently skilful keeper of the robes is not
very probable. Few women, indeed, had paid less attention to dress. Now
and then, in the course of five years, she had been asked to read aloud
or to write a copy of verses. But better readers might easily have been
found; and her verses were worse than even the Poet Laureate's Birthday
Odes. Perhaps that economy, which was among her Majesty's most
conspicuous virtues, had something to do with her conduct on this
occasion. Miss Burney had never hinted that she expected a retiring
pension; and indeed would gladly have given the little that she had for
freedom. But her Majesty knew what the public thought, and what became
her own dignity. She could not for very shame suffer a woman of
distinguished genius, who had quitted a lucrative career to wait on her,
who had served her faithfully for a pittance during five years, and
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