o the house-steward himself, who,
being a little partial to Miss Flouncy herself, complimented Jeames on
his valor, and poured out a glass of Madeira in his own room.

Who was Jeames? He had come recommended by the Bagnigge people. He
had lived, he said, in that family two years. "But where there was
no ladies," he said, "a gentleman's hand was spiled for service;" and
Jeames's was a very delicate hand; Miss Flouncy admired it very much,
and of course he did not defile it by menial service: he had in a young
man who called him sir, and did all the coarse work; and Jeames read the
morning paper to the ladies; not spellingly and with hesitation, as many
gentlemen do, but easily and elegantly, speaking off the longest words
without a moment's difficulty. He could speak French, too, Miss Flouncy
found, who was studying it under Mademoiselle Grande fille-de-chambre de
confiance; for when she said to him, "Polly voo Fransy, Munseer Jeames?"
he replied readily, "We, Mademaselle, j'ay passay boco de tong a Parry.
Commong voo potty voo?" How Miss Flouncy admired him as he stood before
her, the day after he had saved Miss Amethyst when the horses had run
away with her in the Park!

Poor Flouncy, poor Flouncy! Jeames had been but a week in Amethyst's
service, and already the gentle heart of the washing-girl was
irrecoverably gone! Poor Flouncy! Poor Flouncy! he thought not of thee.

It happened thus. Miss Amethyst being engaged to drive with her cousin
the prince in his phaeton, her own carriage was sent into the Park
simply with her companion, who had charge of her little Fido, the
dearest little spaniel in the world. Jeames and Frederick were behind
the carriage with their long sticks and neat dark liveries; the
horses were worth a thousand guineas each, the coachman a late
lieutenant-colonel of cavalry: the whole ring could not boast a more
elegant turn-out.

The prince drove his curricle, and had charge of his belle cousine. It
may have been the red fezzes in the carriage of the Turkish ambassador
which frightened the prince's grays, or Mrs. Champignon's new yellow
liveries, which were flaunting in the Park, or hideous Lady Gorgon's
preternatural ugliness, who passed in a low pony-carriage at the time,
or the prince's own want of skill, finally; but certain it is that the
horses took fright, dashed wildly along the mile, scattered equipages,
pietons, dandies' cabs, and snobs' pheaytons. Amethyst was screaming;
and the prin