u know his
nickname?"

"No," returned Frances.

"Yes, yes," interrupted Lady Wentworth, laughing nervously. She did not
want to be left out of the conversation entirely, so she chimed in
irrelevantly.

"We call him Old Rowley in honor of the oldest, wickedest horse in the
royal mews," said the duchess, laughing. "You need not restrain yourself.
Soon every one at court will be talking about you, the men praising your
beauty, and insinuating ugly stories about your character, and the women
wondering how any one can admire your doll's face or find any wit in what
you say. Remember that the ordinary rule of law that one is deemed
innocent until proved guilty is reversed in Whitehall. Here one is deemed
guilty till one proves one's self innocent, and that is a difficult task.
Ah, my! It has been many a day since we have had any convincing proof!
Eh, Lady Wentworth?"

"Yes, yes, your Grace! Many a day, many a day! Ah, we are a sad, naughty
court, I fear," answered my Lady, with a penitent sigh. Her chief desire
was to be a modish person; therefore she would not be left out of the
iniquitous monde, though her face, if nothing else, placed her safely
beyond the pale of Whitehall sin. One of the saddest things in life is to
be balked in an honest desire to be wicked!

"Yes, you won't know yourself when your character comes back to you,
filtered through many mouths," said the duchess, laughing. "But don't
take offence; retaliate!"

"My cousin will have to learn the art, your Grace," I suggested.

"Ah, I have a thought!" cried the duchess, turning to Frances. "Nothing
succeeds like novelty here at court. Be novel. Don't abuse people save to
their faces, but don't spare any one then. Remember that a biting epigram
is the best loved form of wit among us Sodomites. We love it for its own
sake, but more for the pain it gives the other fellow. We like to see him
squirm, and we have many a joyous hour over our friends' misfortunes.
Turn yourself into a mental bodkin, and you will find favor among us, for
it is better to be feared than loved in our happy family."

"Ah, how beautiful!" cried Lady Wentworth, determined to be heard, even
though never addressed.

"But as I have said," continued the duchess, "try, if you can, to be
novel, and be a bodkin only to the victim's face, save, of course, in the
case of a new bit of racy scandal. That must be used to the greatest
advantage as soon as possible, for scandal, like unsalted bu