wondrously, but they always break out before long and
are more indecent than ever; and you may mark my Lady Maddon's words,
she says this one will do the same, but first she is playing a part and
restraining herself that she may deseave some poor gentleman and trap
him into marrying her. It makes Lady Maddon fall into a passion to
talk of her, and she will flush quite red and talk so fast, but indeed
after I see the creature or hear some new story of her impudent
victories, I fall into a passion myself--for, Tom, _no human being can
put her in her place_."

It must be confessed that the attitude of the recipient of these
letters was by no means a respectful one, they being read and re-read
with broad grins and frequent outbursts of roaring laughter, ending in
derisive or admiring comments, even Bob Langton, who had no objection
to pretty Lady Betty's oglings and summing of him as a dangerous beau,
breaking forth into gleeful grinning himself.

"Hang me if some great nobleman won't marry her," cried Tom, "and a
fine lady she'll make, too! Egad, it almost frightens one, for all the
joke of it, to think of a woman who can do such things--to be a madder
romp than any and suddenly to will that she will change in such a way,
and hold herself firm and be beat by naught. 'Tis scarce human. Bet
says that her kinsman, my Lord Twemlow, has took her in hand and is as
proud of her and as fidgety as some match-making mother. And the county
people who would not have spoke to her a year ago, have begun to visit
Wildairs and invite her to their houses, for all the men are wild
after her, and the best way to make an entertainment a fine thing is to
let it be known that she will grace it. Even Sir Jeof and his cronies
are taken in because they shine in her glory and are made decent by
it."

"They say, too," cried Bob Langton, "that she makes them all behave
themselves, telling them that unless their manners are decent they
cannot follow her to the fine houses she is bid to--and she puts them
through a drill and cuts off their drink and their cursings and wicked
stories. And Gloucestershire and Warwickshire and Worcestershire are
all agog with it!"

"And they follow her like slaves," added Tantillion, in an ecstacy,
"and stand about with their mouths open to stare at her swimming though
her minuets with bowing worshippers, and oh! Roxholm--nay, I should say
Osmonde; but how can a man remember you are Duke instead of
Marquis?--'tis tol