footman the servant who had driven her, she assumes the reins, and
off we set.

My fair companion is a person whom nature and fortune would have
spoiled if they could. She is one of those striking women whom a
stranger cannot pass without turning to look again; tall and finely
proportioned, with a bold Roman contour of figure and feature, a
delicate English complexion, and an air of distinction altogether
her own. Her beauty is duchess-like. She seems born to wear
feathers and diamonds, and to form the grace and ornament of a
court; and the noble frankness and simplicity of her countenance and
manner confirm the impression. Destiny has, however, dealt more
kindly by her. She is the wife of a rich country gentleman of high
descent and higher attainments, to whom she is most devotedly
attached,--the mother of a little girl as lovely as herself, and the
delight of all who have the happiness of her acquaintance, to whom
she is endeared not merely by her remarkable sweetness of temper and
kindness of heart, but by the singular ingenuousness and openness of
character which communicate an indescribable charm to her
conversation. She is as transparent as water. You may see every
colour, every shade of a mind as lofty and beautiful as her person.
Talking with her is like being in the Palace of Truth described by
Madame de Genlis; and yet so kindly are her feelings, so great her
indulgence to the little failings and foibles of our common nature,
so intense her sympathy with the wants, the wishes, the sorrows, and
the happiness of her fellow-creatures, that, with all her
frank-speaking, I never knew her make an enemy or lose a friend.

But we must get on. What would she say if she knew I was putting
her into print? We must get on up the hill. Ah! that is precisely