538 A COUPLE OF CONTRASTS. 



being very gay ; if so the father'took it very quietly ; for I remember 

 a story was told at the time of one of the officers meeting his lordship 

 on the quarter-deck, leading his little boys, who not knowing him 

 personally, inquired " Whose children they were ?" To this the 



Earl drily replied, " They are my Lady 's, I believe," and 



walked on. At this ball she was all smiles and graciousness, and as 

 she was the only English lady of rank and fashion present, she 

 enjoyed what she dearly loved universal admiration ! 



Her Royal Highness the Duchess Dowager was full of pride and 

 prejudices; pleased at receiving the homage due to her rank, yet re- 

 gretting her present situation, as the attention, homage and respect 

 she received must have excited unpleasant recollections. Although 

 the little town of Mahon must have been a sorry exchange after the 

 gaieties of Paris, still it was a safe asylum, out of the noise and bustle 

 of the world, and afforded a quiet refuge to the Princess and her 

 court of unfortunate attendants. 



My second rencounter with the old Princess was some time after 

 the last peace. I was admiring the Place de Carousal, at Paris, 

 when a carriage with six horses, outriders, servants, and numerous 

 attendants in the royal livery, drove past me in great state. The 

 people all pulled off their hats, and my valet de place whispered in 

 my ear, " The Duchess Dowager of Orleans going to pay her court at 

 the Thuilleries." I smiled at the contrast, as I thought of the almost 

 forgotten old lady in her retreat at Port Mahon, and compared her 

 situation when I last saw her at the fete with her present magnifi- 

 cent appearance, surrounded with all the paraphernalia of pomp and 

 power. 



The next time I met the Earl's family, whom I had seen at this 

 fete, the mother delighted with gratified vanity, and the daughters 

 glowing with all the charms of youth, health, and innocence, was in 

 a much sadder situation. It was at an inn in the town of Alessan- 

 dria, on the road to Turin, after a lapse of several years. Two of the 

 daughters had that morning run away from Genoa with a married 

 man, who had poisoned himself by taking too much laudanum by mis- 

 take ; and the mother, who had all the time supposed him an ad- 

 mirer of her own, had just arrived at the same inn in pursuit of the 

 fugitives, in a transport of anger, jealousy, and shame, in time to see 

 him expire. To make myself known under such circumstances 

 would have been only insulting the unhappy. I could do no good 

 I therefore passed on. 





