t he again answered by a refusal.
'Though amiable and unsuspicious,' said he, 'persons about Lady Byron
might put jealous suspicions, devoid of foundation, into her head.'"

Thus equally by what he refused her and what he granted her, he proved
his great generosity, the elevation of his character, his virtuous
abnegation and self-control.

Although Miss S---- was then in an humble and humiliating position, she
had received a fine classical and intellectual education from her uncle,
who was a professor at Cambridge. Her natural wit, the _naivete_ and
sincerity of her ideas, uncontaminated by worldly knowledge, were
appreciated by Lord Byron. He understood her worth, despite the
difficulties that made virtue of greater merit in her, and
notwithstanding appearances that were against her; and he showed
interest in her conversation during the different interviews she
obtained from him. He talked to her of literature, the news of the day;
and even had the goodness to read with indulgence and approbation the
verses she had composed. One day, among others, she had the happiness of
remaining with him till a late hour, and when his carriage was
announced, to take him to a _soiree_, he had her conducted home in the
same carriage.

"Oh! how delightful that evening was to me," says she. "Lord Byron's
abode at the Albany recalled some collegiate dwelling, so perfectly
quiet was it, though situated at the West End, the noisiest quarter of
the metropolis. His conversation so varied and delightful, the purity of
his English, his refined pronunciation, all offered such a contrast even
with the most distinguished men I had had the good fortune to meet, that
I really learned what happiness was."

These conversations afforded her the opportunity of knowing and admiring
him still more. In conversing on literature, she was able to appreciate
his modesty by the praises he lavished on the talents of others, and by
the slight importance he attached to his own; and also his love of truth
when, _a propos_ of some book of travels she was praising, he told her
that he preferred a simple but true tale of voyages to all the pomp of
lies. In speaking about an adventure in high life that was then making a
great noise in England, she was able to appreciate his high sentiments
of delicacy and honor. When the conversation fell on religion, she had
the happiness of hearing him declare he abhorred atheism and unbelief;
and when his childhood was touched