sibly with impatience,
and the corners of her mouth to grow more ominous. At length, about
twenty minutes later, came a sound of laughter and noisy voices; and
by-and-by bustled out of the Cockpit portal a square-shouldered,
square-faced man in a rich dress, which, like the coach, was a little
showy. He wore a huge black full-bottomed periwig. Speaking with a
marked Irish accent, he made profuse apologies to the occupant of the
carriage--apologies which, as might be expected, were not well
received. An expression of vexation came over his good-tempered face
as he took his seat at the lady's side, and he lapsed for a few
minutes into a moody silence. But before they had gone many yards, his
dark, deep-set eyes began to twinkle once more as he looked about him.
When they passed the Tilt-Yard a detachment of the Second Troop of
Life Guards, magnificent in their laced red coats, jack boots, and
white feathers, came pacing out on their black horses. They took their
way towards Charing Cross, and for a short distance followed the same
route as the chariot. The lady was loftily indifferent to their
presence; and she was, besides, on the further side of the vehicle.
But her companion manifestly recognized some old acquaintances among
them, and was highly gratified at being recognized in his turn,
although at the same time it was evident he was also a little
apprehensive lest the "Gentlemen of the Guard," as they were called,
should be needlessly demonstrative in their acknowledgment of his
existence. After this, nothing more of moment occurred. Slowly
mounting St. James's Street, the coach turned down Piccadilly, and,
passing between the groups of lounging lackeys at the gate, entered
Hyde Park. Here, by the time it had once made the circuit of the Ring,
the lady's equanimity was completely restored, and the gentleman was
radiant. He was, in truth, to use his own words, "no undelightful
Companion." He possessed an infinite fund of wit and humour; and his
manner to women had a sincerity of deference which was not the
prevailing characteristic of his age.

There is but slender invention in this little picture. The gentleman
was Captain Steele, late of the Life Guards, the Coldstreams, and
Lucas's regiment of foot, now Gazetteer, and Gentleman Waiter to Queen
Anne's consort, Prince George of Denmark, and not yet "Mr. Isaac
Bickerstaff" of the immortal Tatler. The lady was Mrs. Steele, _nee_
Miss Mary Scurlock, his "Ruler" and "ab