Blessington
yearned for more worlds to conquer; and so, one August day in 1822, she
and her lord set out on a triumphal progress through Europe, with a
retinue of attendants, and with luxurious equipages such as a king might
have been proud to boast. In France they added to their train Count
d'Orsay, who threw up his army-commission under the lure of the
Countess's beautiful eyes; and seldom has fair lady had so devoted and
charming a cavalier as this "Admirable Crichton" of Georgian days.

"Count d'Orsay," says Charles James Mathews, the famous
comedian, who knew him well, "was the beau-ideal of manly
dignity and grace. He was the model of all that could be
conceived of noble demeanour and youthful candour;
handsome beyond all question; accomplished to the last
degree; highly educated, and of great literary
acquirements; with a gaiety of heart and cheerfulness of
mind that spread happiness on all around him. His
conversation was brilliant and engaging, as well as
instructive. He was, moreover, the best fencer, dancer,
swimmer, runner, dresser, the best shot, the best
horseman, the best draughtsman, of his age."

Such was the Count, then a youth of nineteen, who thus entered Lady
Blessington's life, in which he was to play such an intimate part until
its tragic close.

From France the regal progress continued to Italy, everywhere greeted
with wonder at its magnificence and admiration of my lady's beauty. Two
spring months in 1823 were passed at Genoa, where Lord Byron loved to
sit at the Countess's feet and pay homage to her with eye and tongue.
From Genoa the procession fared majestically to Rome, of which her
ladyship, in spite of the sensation she produced and the adulation she
received, soon wearied; she sighed for Naples, where she was regally
lodged in the Palazzo Belvidere, a Palace, as she declared, "fit for any
queen." And how the squire's daughter revelled in her new
pleasure-house, with its courtyard and plashing fountain, its arcade
and its colonnade, "supporting a terrace covered with flowers"; its
marvellous gardens, filled with the rarest trees, shrubs and plants; and
long gallery, "filled with pictures, statues, and bassi-relievi."

"On the top of the gallery," she says, "is a terrace, at
the extreme end of which is a pavilion, with open arcades
and paved with marble. This pavilion commands a most
charming prospect of t