aspirations of George Canning; she had been the confidant of
the loves alike of Byron and Alfieri; had worn mourning for General
Wolfe, and given a festival to the Duke of Wellington; had laughed with
George Selwyn, and smiled at Lord Alvanley; had known the first
macaroni and the last dandy; remembered the Gunnings, and introduced the
Sheridans! But she herself was unchanged; still restless for novelty,
still eager for amusement; still anxiously watching the entrance on the
stage of some new stream of characters, and indefatigable in
attracting the notice of everyone whose talents might contribute to her
entertainment, or whose attention might gratify her vanity. And, really,
when one recollected Lady Bel-lair's long career, and witnessed at the
same time her diminutive form and her unrivalled vitality, he might
almost be tempted to believe, that if not absolutely immortal, it was at
least her strange destiny not so much vulgarly to die, as to grow like
the heroine of the fairy tale, each year smaller and smaller,

'Fine by degrees, and beautifully less,'

until her ladyship might at length subside into airy nothingness, and so
rather vanish than expire.

It was the fashion to say that her ladyship had no heart; in most
instances an unmeaning phrase; in her case certainly an unjust one.
Ninety years of experience had assuredly not been thrown away on a mind
of remarkable acuteness; but Lady Bellair's feelings were still quick
and warm, and could be even profound. Her fancy was so lively, that her
attention was soon engaged; her taste so refined, that her affection
was not so easily obtained. Hence she acquired a character for caprice,
because she repented at leisure those first impressions which with her
were irresistible; for, in truth, Lady Bellair, though she had nearly
completed her century, and had passed her whole life in the most
artificial circles, was the very creature of impulse. Her first homage
she always declared was paid to talent, her second to beauty, her third
to blood. The favoured individual who might combine these three splendid
qualifications, was, with Lady Bellair, a nymph, or a demi-god. As for
mere wealth, she really despised it, though she liked her favourites to
be rich.

Her knowledge of human nature, which was considerable, her acquaintance
with human weaknesses, which was unrivalled, were not thrown away upon
Lady Bellair. Her ladyship's perception of character was fine and quick,