Once beautiful,
her charms had not yet disappeared. She had a pair of glittering eyes,
a skilfully-carmined cheek, and locks yet raven. Her eloquence made
her now as conspicuous as once did her beauty. The young Duke was her
constant object and her occasional victim. He hated above all things a
talking woman; he dreaded above all others Lady de Courcy.
He could not shirk. She summoned him by name so loud that crowds of
barbarians stared, and a man called to a woman, and said, 'My dear! make
haste; here's a Duke!'
Lady de Courcy was prime confidant of the Irish Marchioness. She
affected enthusiasm about the poor sufferers. She had learnt Otaheitan,
she lectured about the bread-fruit, and she played upon a barbarous
thrum-thrum, the only musical instrument in those savage wastes,
ironically called the Society Islands, because there is no society. She
was dreadful. The Duke in despair took out his purse, poured forth from
the pink and silver delicacy, worked by the slender fingers of Lady
Aphrodite, a shower of sovereigns, and fairly scampered off. At length
he reached the lady of his heart.
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