of the rest of the town, rang with the fame of her charms; and while the
dandies and the beauties were raving about her, or tearing her to pieces
in May Fair, even Mrs. Dobbs (who had been to the pit of the "Hoperer"
in a green turban and a crumpled yellow satin) talked about the great
HAIRESS to her D. in Bloomsbury Square.

Crowds went to Squab and Lynch's, in Long Acre, to examine the carriages
building for her, so faultless, so splendid, so quiet, so odiously
unostentatious and provokingly simple! Besides the ancestral services of
argenterie and vaisselle plate, contained in a hundred and seventy-six
plate-chests at Messrs. Childs', Rumble and Briggs prepared a gold
service, and Garraway, of the Haymarket, a service of the Benvenuto
Cellini pattern, which were the admiration of all London. Before a month
it is a fact that the wretched haberdashers in the city exhibited the
blue stocks, called "Heiress-killers, very chaste, two-and-six:"
long before that, the monde had rushed to Madame Crinoline's, or sent
couriers to Madame Marabou, at Paris, so as to have copies of
her dresses; but, as the Mantuan bard observes, "Non cuivis
contigit,"--every foot cannot accommodate itself to the chaussure of
Cinderella.

With all this splendor, this worship, this beauty; with these cheers
following her, and these crowds at her feet, was Amethyst happy? Ah, no!
It is not under the necklace the most brilliant that Briggs and Rumble
can supply, it is not in Lynch's best cushioned chariot that the heart
is most at ease. "Que je me ruinerai," says Fronsac in a letter to
Bossuet, "si je savais ou acheter le bonheur!"

With all her riches, with all her splendor, Amethyst was
wretched--wretched, because lonely; wretched, because her loving heart