by her extreme, and, to use a now common term, _crochety_ opinions.
Like most _esprits forts_, she was easily imposed upon. One day this
paragon saw a mountebank dancing on a stage in the most exquisite style.
His fine shape, too, caught the attention of one who assumed to be above
all folly. It is sometimes fatal to one's peace to look out of a window;
no one knows what sights may rivet or displease. Mistress Ireton was
sitting at her window unconscious that any one with the hated and
malignant name of 'Villiers' was before her. After some unholy
admiration, she sent to speak to the mummer. The duke scarcely knew
whether to trust himself in the power of the bloodthirsty Ireton's bride
or not--yet his courage--his love of sport--prevailed. He visited her
that evening: no longer, however, in his jack-pudding coat, but in a
rich suit, disguised with a cloak over it. He wore still a plaster over
one eye, and was much disposed to take it off, but prudence forbade; and
thus he stood in the presence of the prim and saintly Bridget Ireton.
The particulars of the interview rest on his statement, and they must
not, therefore, be accepted implicitly. Mistress Ireton is said to have
made advances to the handsome incognito. What a triumph to a man like
Villiers, to have intrigued with my Lord Protector's sanctified
daughter! But she inspired him with disgust. He saw in her the
presumption and hypocrisy of her father; he hated her as Cromwell's
daughter and Ireton's wife. He told her, therefore, that he was a Jew,
and could not by his laws become the paramour of a Christian woman. The
saintly Bridget stood amazed; she had imprudently let him into some of
the most important secrets of her party. A Jew! It was dreadful! But how
could a person of that persuasion be so strict, so strait-laced? She
probably entertained all the horror of Jews which the Puritanical party
cherished as a virtue; forgetting the lessons of toleration and
liberality inculcated by Holy Writ. She sent, however, for a certain
Jewish Rabbi to converse with the stranger. What was the Duke of
Buckingham's surprise, on visiting her one evening, to see the learned
doctor armed at all points with the Talmud, and thirsting for dispute,
by the side of the saintly Bridget. He could noways meet such a body of
controversy; but thought it best forthwith to set off for the Downs.
Before he departed he wrote, however, to Mistress Ireton, on the plea
that she might wish to know to