for her husband, a distinction in
which, of course, she herself shared, but which probably she desired
merely to throw some _eclat_ round a singularly submissive husband.

Yet there was no slight infusion of pleasantry in the minds of some of
the royal household. When they got rid of the stately pedantry of
Caroline, and the smooth hypocrisy of her confidante,--when the gross
and formal monarch was shut out, and the younger portion of the court
were left to their own inventions, they seem to have enjoyed themselves
like children at play. There was a vast deal of flirtation, of course,
for this folly was as much the fashion of the time as rouge. But there
was also a great deal of verse writing, correspondence of all degrees of
wit, and now and then caricature with pencil and pen. Mary Lepell, in
one of those _jeux d' esprit_, described the "Six Maids of Honour" as
six volumes bound in _calf_.--The first, Miss Meadows, as mingled
satire, and reflection; the second as a _plain_ treatise on morality;
the third as a rhapsody; the fourth (supposed to be the future Lady
Pembroke) as a volume, neatly bound, of "The Whole Art of Dressing;" the
next a miscellaneous work, with essays on "Gallantry;" the sixth, a
folio collection of all the "Court Ballads." But there were some women
of a superior stamp in the court circle. One of those was Lady Sophia
Fermor, the daughter of Lady Pomfret, who seems to have been followed by
all the men of fashion, and loved by some of them. But, like other
professed beauties, she remained unmarried, until at last she accepted
Lord Carteret, a man twice her age. Yet the match was a brilliant one in
all other points, for Carteret was Secretary of State, and perhaps the
most accomplished public man of his time.

"Do but imagine," observes that prince of gossips, Horace Walpole, "how
many passions will be gratified in that family; her own ambition,
vanity, and resentment--love, she never had any; the politics,
management, and pedantry of her mother, who will think to govern her
son-in-law out of Froissart. Figure the instructions which she will give
her daughter. Lincoln, (one of her admirers) is quite indifferent, and
laughs."

While the marriage was on the _tapis_, the beautiful Sophia was taken
ill of the scarlet fever, and Lord Carteret of the gout. Nothing could
be less amatory than such a crisis. But his lordship was all gallantry;
he corresponded with her, read her letters to the Privy Council