-nay, almost in the other--through the medium of
the Honorable Mrs. M'Catchley. Mrs. M'Catchley was, moreover, the most
elegant of women, the wittiest creature, the dearest. King George the
Fourth had presumed to admire Mrs. M'Catchley, but Mrs. M'Catchley,
though no prude, let him see that she was proof against the corruptions
of a throne. So long had the ears of Mrs. Pompley's friends been filled
with the renown of Mrs. M'Catchley, that at last Mrs. M'Catchley was
secretly supposed to be a myth, a creature of the elements, a poetic
fiction of Mrs. Pompley's. Richard Avenel, however, though by no means a
credulous man, was an implicit believer in Mrs. M'Catchley. He had
learned that she was a widow--an honorable by birth, an honorable by
marriage--living on her handsome jointure, and refusing offers every day
that she so lived. Somehow or other, whenever Richard Avenel thought of
a wife, he thought of the Honorable Mrs. M'Catchley. Perhaps that
romantic attachment to the fair invisible preserved him heart-whole
among the temptations of Screwstown. Suddenly, to the astonishment of
the Abbey Gardens, Mrs. M'Catchley proved her identity, and arrived at
Col. Pompley's in a handsome traveling-carriage, attended by her maid
and footman. She had come to stay some weeks--a tea-party was given in
her honor. Mr. Avenel and his nephew were invited. Colonel Pompley, who
kept his head clear in the midst of the greatest excitement, had a
desire to get from the Corporation a lease of a piece of ground
adjoining his garden, and he no sooner saw Richard Avenel enter, than he
caught him by the button, and drew him into a quiet corner in order to
secure his interest. Leonard, meanwhile, was borne on by the stream,
till his progress was arrested by a sofa table at which sat Mrs.
M'Catchley herself, with Mrs. Pompley by her side. For on this great
occasion the hostess had abandoned her proper post at the entrance, and,
whether to show her respect to Mrs. M'Catchley, or to show Mrs.
M'Catchley her well-bred contempt for the people of Screwstown, remained
in state by her friend, honoring only the _elite_ of the town with
introductions to the illustrious visitor.

Mrs. M'Catchley was a very fine woman--a woman who justified Mrs.
Pompley's pride in her. Her cheek-bones were rather high, it is true,
but that proved the purity of her Caledonian descent; for the rest, she
had a brilliant complexion, heightened by a _soupcon_ of rouge--good
eyes a