Regarding her “dressed” (22) hair, the speaker feels
(a) disillusioned
(b) relieved
(c) dissatisfi ed
(d) proud
(e) bemused

passage 1. frances burney, evelina
we are to go this evening to a private ball, given by mrs. stanley, a very fashionable
lady of mrs. mirvan’s acquaintance.
we have been a-shopping as mrs. mirvan calls it, all this morning, to buy silks,
caps, gauzes, and so forth.
th e shops are really very entertaining, especially the mercers; there seem to be
six or seven men belonging to each shop; and every one took care by bowing and
smirking, to be noticed. we were conducted from one to another, and carried from
room to room with so much ceremony, that i was almost afraid to go on.
i thought i should never have chosen a silk: for they produced so many, i knew
not which to fi x upon; and they recommended them all so strongly, that i fancy
they thought i only wanted persuasion to buy every thing they showed me. and,
indeed, they took so much trouble, that i was almost ashamed i could not.
at the milliners, the ladies we met were so much dressed, that i should rather
have imagined they were making visits than purchases. but what most diverted me
was, that we were more frequently served by men than by women; and such men!
so fi nical, so aff ected! they seemed to understand every part of a woman’s dress better
than we do ourselves; and they recommended caps and ribbands with an air of
so much importance, that i wished to ask them how long they had left off wearing
them.
th e dispatch with which they work in these great shops is amazing, for they
have promised me a complete suit of linen against the evening.
i have just had my hair dressed. you can’t think how oddly my head feels; full
of powder and black pins, and a great cushion on the top of it. i believe you would
hardly know me, for my face looks quite diff erent to what it did before my hair was
dressed. when i shall be able to make use of a comb for myself i cannot tell; for my
hair is so much entangled, frizzled they call it, that i fear it will be very diffi cult.
i am half afraid of this ball to-night; for, you know, i have never danced but at
school: however, miss mirvan says there is nothing in it. yet, i wish it was over.
adieu, my dear sir, pray excuse the wretched stuff i write; perhaps i may
improve by being in this town, and then my letters will be less unworthy your reading.
meantime, i am, your dutiful and aff ectionate, though unpolished, evelina