ould that
exquisite flower of young womanhood be the ugly, awkward girl he had
married so strangely as a boy? Impossible! He proceeded to the box,
introduced himself, and found to his delight that the beautiful girl was
indeed none other than Lady March, whom he had every right to claim as
his wife. A few too brief years of happy wedded life followed; and when
the Earl died in the prime of manhood his Countess, unable to live
without him, began to droop and, within a few months, followed him to
the grave.

Such was the singular romance to which Lady Sarah Lennox owed her being,
a romance which was to have a parallel in her own life. As a child in
the nursery she gave promise of charms at least as great as those of her
mother. And she was as merry and full of mischief as she was beautiful.

One day (it is her son who tells the story) she was walking with her
nurse and her aunt, Lady Louisa Conolly, in Kensington Gardens, when
George II. chanced to stroll by. Breaking away from her guardian the
pretty little madcap ran up to the King and exclaimed in French: "How do
you do, Mr King? You have a beautiful house here, _n'est-ce pas_?"
George was so delighted with the child's _naivete_ that he took her up
in his arms, gave her a hearty kiss, and would not release her until she
had promised to come and see him.

And how the King and his "little sweetheart," as he called her, enjoyed
these visits! and the merry romps they had together!

"On one occasion," says Captain Napier (Lady Sarah's son
of much later days), "after a romp with my mother, the
King suddenly snatched her up in his arms, and, after
squeezing her in a large china jar, shut down the cover
to prove her courage; but soon released her when he found
that the only effect was to make her, with a merry voice,
begin singing the French song of Malbruc, with which he
was quite delighted."

But these happy days of romping with a King came too soon to an end. On
her mother's death Lady Sarah, then only five years old, was carried off
to Ireland, to the home of Lady Kildare. There she remained for eight
years, when she returned to England and the guardianship of her eldest
sister, Lady Holland. As soon as George heard of the return of his
little playmate he sent for her, hoping to resume the romps of early
years. But Lady Sarah, though prettier than ever, proved so shy and so
embarrassed by the King's familiarities that at last h