ven. She was in her
coach, and all the ladies on horseback, every one of them being attended
by her squire; it therefore was but reasonable that the mistress should
likewise have her squire. He accordingly was at the side of her coach,
and seemed to compensate for his deficiencies in conversation, by the
uncommon beauty of his mien and figure.

The duke attended Miss Churchill, not for the sake of besieging her with
soft flattering tales of love, but, on the contrary, to chide her for
sitting so ill on horseback: She was one of the most indolent creatures
in the world; and although the maids of honour are generally the worst
mounted of the whole court, yet, in order to distinguish her, on account
of the favour she enjoyed, they had given her a very pretty, though
rather a high-spirited horse; a distinction she would very willingly
have excused them.

The embarrassment and fear she was under had added to her natural
paleness. In this situation, her countenance had almost completed the
duke's disgust, when her horse, desirous of keeping pace with the others,
set off in a gallop, notwithstanding her greatest efforts to prevent it;
and her endeavours to hold him in, firing his mettle, he at length set
off at full speed, as if he was running a race against the duke's horse.

Miss Churchill lost her seat, screamed out, and fell from her horse.
A fall in so quick a pace must have been violent; and yet it proved
favourable to her in every respect; for, without receiving any hurt, she
gave the lie to all the unfavourable suppositions that had been formed of
her person, in judging from her face. The duke alighted, in order to
help her: she was so greatly stunned, that her thoughts were otherwise
employed than about decency on the present occasion; and those who first
crowded around her found her rather in a negligent posture: they could
hardly believe that limbs of such exquisite beauty could belong to Miss
Churchill's face. After this accident, it was remarked that the duke's
tenderness and affection for her increased every day; and, towards the
end of the winter, it appeared that she had not tyrannized over his
passion, nor made him languish with impatience.

The two courts returned to London much about the same time, equally
satisfied with their respective excursions; though the queen was
disappointed in the hopes she had entertained of the good effects
of the Tunbridge waters.

It was about this time that the Chevalier d