d only one person--myself. She
who I hoped would one day be the party of the second part was Mary
Hamilton, sister to Count Anthony and George Hamilton, mention of whom
was made at the outset of this history.

I myself may have been lacking in morals, but at my worst I was a saint
compared to George Hamilton and his friends, Lord Berkeley, young
Wentworth, and the king's son, James Crofts, Duke of Monmouth. There was,
however, this difference between George and his friends: he was
gentlemanly picturesque in wickedness; they were nauseous in the
_filthiness_ of vice.

After I became a suitor for the hand of George Hamilton's sister, I had
closed my eyes to his shortcomings and, for some time prior to my
Sundridge visit, had sought to further my cause with her by winning her
brother's help. I had known Hamilton many years before, when we were
all exiles in Holland and France, and had always liked him. In fact, we
had been friends from our youth, and while in latter years I had not seen
much of him, having avoided him because of his vicious mode of life, I
had found no difficulty in taking up our old intimacy. At the time of
which I am writing I was sure that he was my friend and had given him
good reason to think the same of me. There was an attraction about him
that was winning and irresistible even to men. What must it have been to
women?

I speak of this friendship between George Hamilton and me at this time
because of the great strain its bonds were soon to have; so great that I
am still wondering why they did not break. To close this mention of my
own love affair, I would say that at the time of my visit to Sundridge
I had reasonable cause to hope for a favorable termination. Not that I
expected ever to kindle a fiery passion in Mary's breast, for she was not
of the combustible sort, but I believed she liked me, favored my suit,
and I hoped would accept me in the end. While she was very pretty, she
was not of so great beauty as to mislead her family into expecting that
she would catch an earl by fishing in a duck pond, and, barring the earl,
I should be a husband more or less satisfactory to her and her family.
George was my friend in the matter, and to him I believed I owed much of
my prospects of success. Soon the relation of my own love affair to that
of my cousin Frances will be apparent.

My second day at Sundridge was spent with my uncle and my cousins,
Frances remaining at home with us. Adroit Sarah had ta