, "both professed to love me--but yet I preferred
the youngest, as by far the most agreeable in person,
beloved by every one."

Indeed, from a boy, Richard Sheridan seemed born to win hearts. His
sister has confessed:

"I admired--I almost adored him. He was handsome. His
cheeks had the glow of health; his eyes--the finest in
the world--the brilliancy of genius, and were soft as a
tender and affectionate heart could render them. The same
playful fancy, the same sterling and innoxious wit that
was shown afterwards in his writings, cheered and
delighted the family circle."

Such was Richard Brinsley Sheridan, when, in the year 1769, he first set
eyes on the girl, who, after many dramatic vicissitudes, was to bear his
name and share his glories. From the first sight of her he was
hopelessly in love, although none but his sister knew it. He was little
more than a school-boy, and was content to "bide his time," worshipping
mutely at the shrine of the girl whom some day he meant to make his own.

He gave no sign of jealousy when his elder brother made love to her
before his eyes--only to retire quickly, chilled by a coldness which he
realised he could never thaw; or even when his Oxford chum, Halhed, his
dearest friend and the colleague of his youthful pen, fell a victim to
Elizabeth's charms, and, in his innocence, begged Sheridan to plead his
suit with her. Halhed, too, had to retire from the hopeless suit; and
Richard Sheridan, still silent, save, perhaps, for the eloquence of
tell-tale eyes, held the field alone.

It was at this stage of our story that a grave element of danger entered
Elizabeth Linley's life, with the arrival at Bath of a Major Matthews, a
handsome _roue_, with a large rent-roll from Welsh acres, and a
dangerous reputation won in the lists of love. At sight of the fair
Nightingale in the Assembly Rooms this hero of many conquests was
himself laid low. He was frantically in love, and before many days had
passed vowed that he would shoot himself if his charmer refused to smile
on him. Her coldness only fanned his ardour; and his persecution reached
such a pitch that in her alarm she appealed to young Sheridan for help.

Nothing could have been more fortunate for the young lover than such an
appeal and the necessity for it. It was a tribute to her esteem, and to
his budding manliness, which delighted him. Moreover, it gave him many
opportunities of meeting