CHAPTER IV.
_What happened after their journey to London._
No sooner was young Andrews arrived at London than he began to scrape anacquaintance with his party-coloured brethren, who endeavoured to makehim despise his former course of life. His hair was cut after the newestfashion, and became his chief care; he went abroad with it all themorning in papers, and drest it out in the afternoon. They could not,however, teach him to game, swear, drink, nor any other genteel vice thetown abounded with. He applied most of his leisure hours to music, inwhich he greatly improved himself; and became so perfect a connoisseurin that art, that he led the opinion of all the other footmen at anopera, and they never condemned or applauded a single song contrary tohis approbation or dislike. He was a little too forward in riots at theplay-houses and assemblies; and when he attended his lady at church(which was but seldom) he behaved with less seeming devotion thanformerly: however, if he was outwardly a pretty fellow, his moralsremained entirely uncorrupted, though he was at the same time smarterand genteeler than any of the beaus in town, either in or out of livery.
His lady, who had often said of him that Joey was the handsomest andgenteelest footman in the kingdom, but that it was pity he wantedspirit, began now to find that fault no longer; on the contrary, she wasfrequently heard to cry out, "Ay, there is some life in this fellow."She plainly saw the effects which the town air hath on the soberestconstitutions. She would now walk out with him into Hyde Park in amorning, and when tired, which happened almost every minute, would leanon his arm, and converse with him in great familiarity. Whenever shestept out of her coach, she would take him by the hand, and sometimes,for fear of stumbling, press it very hard; she admitted him to delivermessages at her bedside in a morning, leered at him at table, andindulged him in all those innocent freedoms which women of figure maypermit without the least sully of their virtue.
But though their virtue remains unsullied, yet now and then some smallarrows will glance on the shadow of it, their reputation; and so it fellout to Lady Booby, who happened to be walking arm-in-arm with Joey onemorning in Hyde Park, when Lady Tittle and Lady Tattle came accidentallyby in their coach. "Bless me," says Lady Tittle, "can I believe my eyes?Is that Lady Booby?"--"Surely," says Tattle. "But what makes yousurprized?"--"Why, is not that her footman?" replied Tittle. At whichTattle laughed, and cried, "An old business, I assure you: is itpossible you should not have heard it? The whole town hath known it thishalf-year." The consequence of this interview was a whisper through ahundred visits, which were separately performed by the two ladies[A] thesame afternoon, and might have had a mischievous effect, had it not beenstopt by two fresh reputations which were published the day afterwards,and engrossed the whole talk of the town.
[A] It may seem an absurdity that Tattle should visit, as she actually did, to spread a known scandal: but the reader may reconcile this by supposing, with me, that, notwithstanding what she says, this was her first acquaintance with it.
But, whatever opinion or suspicion the scandalous inclination ofdefamers might entertain of Lady Booby's innocent freedoms, it iscertain they made no impression on young Andrews, who never offered toencroach beyond the liberties which his lady allowed him,--a behaviourwhich she imputed to the violent respect he preserved for her, and whichserved only to heighten a something she began to conceive, and whichthe next chapter will open a little farther.