nd, on his return from Gore House,
related it to us. I wrote the principal scene of the third act the
same evening, under the impression of the story I had just heard;
and afterwards sketched out and wrote the drama, of which I had
intended, at first, to write only that one scene.

The whole fashionable world of London had been thrown into
consternation by the discovery that Lord de Ros, premier Baron of
England, cheated at cards. He was, notoriously, one of the most
worthless men of his day; which circumstance never prevented his
being perfectly well received by the men and women of the best
English society. That he was an unprincipled profligate made him
none the less welcome to his male associates, or their wives,
sisters, and daughters; but when Lord de Ros cheated his
fellow-gamblers at the Club, no further toleration of his wickedness
was, of course, possible; and then every infamous story, which, if
believed, should have made him intolerable to decent people before,
was told and re-told; and it seemed to me, that of all the evil
deeds laid to his charge, his cheating at cards was quite the least
evil.

Lady Ellesmere, from whom I heard a story of his cold-blooded
profligacy far more dreadful than that on which I founded my
"English Tragedy," told me that she thought Lord de Ros's influence
had been exceedingly detrimental to her brother, Charles Greville,
who was his most intimate friend; and who, she said, burst into
tears in speaking to her of it, when the fact of his cheating was
discovered,--certainly a strong proof of affection from such a man
to such a man; and I remember how eagerly and earnestly he
endeavored to persuade me that the incident on which I had founded
my "English Tragedy" had not been so profoundly base on Lord de
Ros's part as I supposed.

Besides the revival of these tragical stories of his misdeeds, the
poor man's disgrace gave rise to some bitter jokes among his friends
of the club-house and gambling-table. An epitaph composed for him to
this effect was circulated among his intimates:--

"Here lies Henry, twenty-sixth Baron de Ros, in joyful expectation
of the last trump."

Of course he was cut by all his noble associates; and Lord Alvanley,
being hailed one day by some of them with an inquiry as to whether
it was true that he had ca