of women; of a
countenance somewhat grave and haughty, but on occasion brightening with
humour or beaming with kindliness and affection. Too quick to detect
affectation or insincerity in others, too impatient of dulness or
pomposity, she is more sarcastic now than she became when after years of
suffering had softened her nature. Truth looks out of her bright eyes,
and rises up armed, and flashes scorn or denial, perhaps too readily,
when she encounters flattery, or meanness, or imposture. After her first
appearance in the world, if the truth must be told, this young lady was
popular neither with many men, nor with most women. The innocent dancing
youth who pressed round her, attracted by her beauty, were rather
afraid, after a while, of engaging her. This one felt dimly that she
despised him; another, that his simpering commonplaces (delights of how
many well-bred maidens!) only occasioned Miss Newcome's laughter. Young
Lord Croesus, whom all maidens and matrons were eager to secure, was
astounded to find that he was utterly indifferent to her, and that she
would refuse him twice or thrice in an evening, and dance as many times
with poor Tom Spring, who was his father's ninth son, and only at home
till he could get a ship and go to sea again. The young women were
frightened at her sarcasm. She seemed to know what fadaises they
whispered to their partners as they paused in the waltzes; and Fanny,
who was luring Lord Croesus towards her with her blue eyes, dropped them
guiltily to the floor when Ethel's turned towards her; and Cecilia sang
more out of time than usual; and Clara, who was holding Freddy, and
Charley, and Tommy round her enchanted by her bright conversation and
witty mischief, became dumb and disturbed when Ethel passed her with her
cold face; and old Lady Hookham, who was playing off her little Minnie
now at young Jack Gorget of the Guards, now at the eager and simple
Bob Bateson of the Coldstreams, would slink off when Ethel made her
appearance on the ground, whose presence seemed to frighten away the
fish and the angler. No wonder that the other Mayfair nymphs were afraid
of this severe Diana, whose looks were so cold and whose arrows were so
keen.

But those who had no cause to heed Diana's shot or coldness might admire
her beauty; nor could the famous Parisian marble, which Clive said she
resembled, be more perfect in form than this young lady. Her hair and
eyebrows were jet black (these latter may have