at the elbow-sleeves and V-shaped neck; a plain straw poke-bonnet
served for all outdoor functions, and an ebony stick, called "the wand"
by the denizens of the slums, who adored her, completed her picturesque
toilette.

The majority feared this _grande dame_, a minority, if they had had the
chance, would have fawned upon her in public and laughed at or
caricatured her in private; those who really knew her, and they lived
principally east of London town, would willingly have laid themselves
down and allowed her ridiculously small feet, invariably shod in
crimson, buckled, outrageously high-heeled shoes, to trample upon their
prostrate bodies, if it would have given her pleasure so to do.

She adored young things, and had an enormous family of godsons and
goddaughters, out of which crowd Ben Kelham and Damaris Hethencourt
were supreme favourites, and about whom she had been weaving plots when
she had written her letter of invitation to the Squire.

She smoked Three Castles, which she kept in a jewelled Louis XV
snuff-box, and had a perfect tartar of a maid, who simply worshipped
her.

Of a truth, a long description of a very old and very wise old woman,
of whom the great Queen had once remarked to her Consort:

"I wish I were not a queen, so that _I_ might curtsey to Olivia."

And in this wise old woman's jewel-covered hands Fate placed the
twisted threads of passion, youth and love, and a wiser selection she
could not have made.