iress, and thought how charmingly her accumulations
would serve to clear the encumbrances on certain acres. But they were
not kept long in suspense. One night during the London season, when
the ladies Cornwallis gave a grand ball, a damper was cast over the
proceedings, so far at least as aspirants to the heiress's money-bags
were concerned, by the announcement of her engagement. Said a lady to
a gentleman in the course of that evening, "Most extraordinary! There
seem to be no men in the room to-night." "Why, of course not," was the
rejoinder, "after this fatal news." Lady Julia's choice fell upon a
young officer in the Guards, Viscount Holmesdale, eldest son of Earl
Amherst. Lord Holmesdale was unexceptionable in point of position,
but his pecuniary position was such as to make one hundred and fifty
thousand dollars a year a very agreeable addition to his income. It
may, however, be a satisfaction to those less richly endowed with this
world's goods than Lady Holmesdale to reflect that being an heiress
generally proves rather the reverse of a passport to matrimonial
bliss; and by all accounts she is no exception to the usual fate in
this respect. We can't have everything in this world.

Lady Holmesdale's property was tied up by her old father (whose whole
thoughts were given to this end, and who was in the habit of carrying
his will on his person) to such a degree that in the event of her
death her husband can only derive a very slight benefit from his
wife's property beyond the insurances which may have been effected
on her life. She is childless, and has very precarious health. Her
principal seat is Linton Park, near Maidstone, Kent, in which county
she is the largest landowner. In the event of her dying without issue,
her estates pass to the son of Major Fiennes Cornwallis, who was
second son of the late Mr. Wykeham-Martin by Lady Holmesdale's elder
half-sister.

A cousin of Lady Holmesdale, Miss Cornwallis, the last representative
of a third branch, died some years ago. This lady, who possessed rare
literary and social acquirements, bequeathed her property to Major
Wykeham-Martin, who thereupon changed his name to Cornwallis. The
major, a gallant officer, one of those of whom Tennyson says,

Into the jaws of death
Rode the six hundred,

only survived the Balaklava charge to die a few years later through
an accident in the hunting-field. "A fine, modest young officer," was
Thackeray's verdict about him, whe