er even hinted
to her his dissatisfaction. When their eldest daughter, following her
mother's example, married without the permission of her parents, it was
suggested to Lord Eldon that her ladyship ought to take better care of
her younger daughter, Lady Frances, and entering society should play the
part of a vigilant _chaperon_. The counsel was judicious; but the
Chancellor declined to act upon it, saying,--"When she was young and
beautiful, she gave up everything for me. What she is, I have made her;
and I cannot now bring myself to compel her inclinations. Our marriage
prevented her mixing in society when it afforded her pleasure; it
appears to give pain now, and why should I interpose?" In his old age,
when she was dead, he visited his estate in Durham, but could not
find heart to cross the Tyne bridge and look at the old house from
which he took her in the bloom and tenderness of her girlhood. An
urgent invitation to visit Newcastle drew from him the reply--"I
know my fellow-townsmen complain of my not coming to see them; but
_how can I pass that bridge?_" After a pause, he added, "Poor Bessie!
if ever there was an angel on earth she was one. The only reparation
which one man can make to another for running away with his daughter,
is to be exemplary in his conduct towards her."

In pecuniary affairs not less prudent than his brother, Lord Stowell in
matters of sentiment was capable of indiscretion. In the long list of
legal loves there are not many episodes more truly ridiculous than the
story of the older Scott's second marriage. On April 10, 1813, the
decorous Sir William Scott, and Louisa Catharine, widow of John,
Marquis of Sligo, and daughter of Admiral Lord Howe, were united in the
bonds of holy wedlock, to the infinite amusement of the world of
fashion, and to the speedy humiliation of the bridegroom. So incensed
was Lord Eldon at his brother's folly, that he refused to appear at the
wedding; and certainly the Chancellor's displeasure was not without
reason, for the notorious absurdity of the affair brought ridicule on
the whole of the Scott family connexion. The happy couple met for the
first time in the Old Bailey, when Sir William Scott and Lord
Ellenborough presided at the trial of the marchioness's son, the young
Marquis of Sligo, who had incurred the anger of the law by luring into
his yacht, in Mediterranean waters, two of the king's seamen. Throughout
the hearing of that _cause celebre_, the marchion