had not seen her Royal lover for some days
she even disguised herself as a servant and intercepted him in one of
the corridors of the Palace. The coy and cold maiden who had told the
King that she "thought nothing" of his advances, had developed into the
veriest coquette who ever set her heart on winning a man. Such is the
strange waywardness of woman; and by such revolutions she often courts
her own defeat.

That King George still remained as infatuated as ever is quite probable.
Had it been possible for him to have his own way, Lady Sarah Lennox
might still have won a crown as Queen of England. But the forces arrayed
against him were too strong for so pliant a monarch. In a weak moment,
despairing of winning the girl he loved, he had placed his matrimonial
fate unreservedly in the hands of the Privy Council; and from this
surrender of his liberty there was no escape.

Colonel Graeme had been despatched to every Court on the Continent, in
quest of a suitable bride for him; and his verdict had been given in
favour of Charlotte Sophia, the unattractive daughter of the Duke of
Mecklenburg Strelitz. The die was cast; and George, just when happiness
was within his reach, was obliged to bury the one romance of his young
life and to sacrifice himself to duty and his Royal word. To Lady Sarah
the news of the arranged marriage was no doubt a severe blow--to her
vanity, if not to her heart. It was a "bolt from the blue," for which
she was not prepared. But she was too proud to show her wounds.

"I shall take care," she wrote to her friend, Lady
Susan, on the very day on which the blow fell, "I shall
take care to show that I am not mortified to anybody; but
if it is true that one can vex anybody with a reserved,
cold manner, he shall have it, I promise him. Now as to
what I wish about it myself, excepting this little
message, I have almost forgiven him. Luckily for me I did
not love him, and only liked, nor did the title weigh
with me. So little, at least, that my disappointment did
not affect my spirits more than an hour or two, I
believe. I did not cry, I assure you, which I believe you
will, as I know you were more set on it than I was. The
thing I am most angry at is looking so like a fool, as I
shall, for having gone so often for nothing, but I don't
much care. If he was to change his mind again (which
can't be, tho') and not give me a very