or her
family," which could scarcely be other than to provide heirs to the
Douglas lands--an ambition which to the most sanguine lady of her age
must have seemed sufficiently doubtful of realisation.

Then began a wandering life for the grotesque pair. Rheims, Utrecht,
Geneva, Aix-la-Chapelle, Liege, and many another Continental town appear
in turn on their erratic itinerary, the Colonel travelling as Lady
Jean's _maitre d'hotel_, and never avowed by her as her husband; and at
every place of halting my lady finds fresh victims for her clever tongue
and ingratiating charm of manner, who, in return for her smiles and
flatteries, keep her purse supplied. Now it is young Lord Blantyre who
succumbs to her wiles, and follows her from place to place like a
shadow, drawing large sums from his mother to "lend to my Lady Jean, who
is at a loss by not receiving letters which were to bring her
remittances." Now it is Mr Hay, Mr Dalrymple, or some other susceptible
admirer who obliges her by a temporary loan, and is amply rewarded by
learning from her lips that he is "the man alive I would choose to be
most obliged by." Thus, by a system of adroit flatteries, Lady Jean
keeps the family exchequer so well replenished that she is able to take
about with her a retinue consisting of two maids and a man-cook, in
addition to the indispensable Mrs Hewit; and to ride in her carriage,
while her husband stakes his golden louis on the green cloth and
drinks costly wines.

Even such an astute man of the world as Lord Crawford she makes her
devoted slave, ready at any moment to place his purse and services at
her disposal, to the extent of breaking the news of her marriage to the
Duke, her brother, and begging for his approval and favour; a task which
must have gone considerably against the grain with the proud Scotsman.

"I can assure your Grace," his lordship writes, "she does
great honour to the family wherever she appears, and is
respected and beloved by all that have the honour of her
acquaintance. She certainly merits all the affectionate
marks of an only brother to an only sister."

This appeal, eloquent as it was, only seemed to fan the anger of the
Duke, who, as he read it, declared to the Parish minister who was
present: "Why, the woman is mad.... I once thought, if there was a
virtuous woman in the world, my sister Jeanie was one; but now I am
going to say a thing that I should not say of my own sister--I b