he young and beautiful wife of an
old red-faced, foul-mouthed Queen's Counsel, at least forty years her
senior. The scandal was, that her origin had been of the very humblest,
and that, seen by accident on circuit, she had caught the fancy of the
old lawyer, a well-known connoisseur in female beauty. However that
might be, she was now about two years married, and already recognized as
the reigning beauty of the viceregal court and the capital.

The circumstances of her history,--her low origin, her beauty, and the
bold game she played,--all invested her with a great interest in my
eyes. I used to flatter myself that there was a kind of similarity in
at least our early fortunes; and I enlisted myself in her cause with an
ardor that I could not explain to myself. How often, as she passed in
her splendid barouche,--the best-appointed and handsomest equipage
of the capital,--have I watched her as, wrapped in her Cashmere, she
reclined in all the voluptuous indolence of her queenly state; glorying
to think that _she_,--she, whose proud glance scarce noticed the
obsequious throng that bowed with uncovered heads around her,--that she
was perhaps not better nurtured than myself. Far from envious jealousy
at her better fortune, I exulted in it; she was a kind of beacon set on
a hill to guide and cheer me. I remember well, it was an actual
triumph to me one day, as the Viceroy, a gay and dashing nobleman, not
overscrupulous where the claim of beauty was present, stopped, with all
his glittering staff, beside her carriage, and in playful raillery began
to chide her for being absent from the last drawing-room. "We missed you
sadly, Mrs. Mansergh," said he, smiling his most seductive smile. "Pray
tell my friend Mansergh that he shows himself a most lukewarm supporter
of the Government who denies us the fairest smiles of the capital."

"In truth, my Lord, he would not give me a new train, and I refused to
wear the old one," said she, laughing.

"Downright disloyalty, upon my honor," said the Viceroy, with well
got-up gravity.

"Don't you think so, my Lord?" rejoined she; "so I even told him that
I 'd represent the case to your Excellency, who, I 'm sure, would not
refuse a velvet robe to the wife, while you gave a silk gown to the
husband."

"It will be the very proudest of my poor prerogatives," said he, bowing,
while a flash of crimson lit up his pleased features. "Your favorite
color is--"

"I should like to wear your Lords