ld have been
admiringly characterized as "nerve." This manner became solidified after
her popular husband's death, and if it was generally referred to as
"aplomb" or "poise," allowances must be made for the poverty of the
average vocabulary.

It is not difficult for a clever, handsome, correct, and wealthy woman
to reach and hold a distinctive position even in London, that world's
headquarters of individualities. In addition to a judiciously lavish
hospitality, it is only necessary to personalize intelligently, and this
Mrs. Kaye did with an industry that would have carried her to greatness
had she been granted a spark of the divine fire. She cultivated the
great and the fashionable in art, letters, and the drama, mixed them
tactfully with her titles, attended the banquets of the ruling class in
Bohemia attired flatteringly in her best, and founded a society for the
study of Leonardo da Vinci. She became intimate with several royal
ladies, who were charmed with her endless power to amuse them and her
magnificent patronage of their charities; and she formed close relations
with other dames but a degree less exalted, and generally more
discriminating. She cultivated a witty habit of speech, the society of
cabinet ministers, and her _chef_ was a celebrity. Her gowns would have
been notable in New York, and she was wise enough to avoid eccentricity
and openly to regard all forms of sensationalism with a haughty disdain.

Her attitude to men was equally well-advised. Detrimentals and
ineligibles never so much as came up for inspection; she had a
far-reaching sense of selection and a proper notion of the value of
time. Therefore, the many that had the run of her luxurious mansion
contributed personally to her prestige, and she flattered herself that
her particular band was little less distinguished than the Royal
Household. And they invariably found her witty, entertaining, or, like
Madame Recamier, ready to listen "avec seduction." Her knowledge of
politics was practically unbounded.

In such moments as she happened to be alone with any of her swains, she
became distractingly personal, inviting, gently repelling, afforded
dazzling glimpses of possibilities awaiting time and the man: so
accomplishing the double purpose of agreeably titillating her own depths
and wearing the halo of a well-behaved Circe. Altogether her success was
what it always must be when brains and ambition, money and a cold heart
are allied; but it was