had she not constantly attempted to appear much younger. Her dress
was fantastically fashionable, her manners affected all the various
passions of youth, and her conversation was perpetually embellished
with accusations against her own "heedlessness, thoughtlessness,
carelessness, and childishness."

There is, perhaps in each individual, one parent motive to every
action, good or bad. Be that as it may, it was evident, that with
Lady Clementina, all she said or did, all she thought or looked, had
but one foundation--vanity. If she were nice, or if she were
negligent, vanity was the cause of both; for she would contemplate
with the highest degree of self-complacency, "What such-a-one would
say of her elegant preciseness, or what such-a-one would think of
her interesting neglect."

If she complained she was ill, it was with the certainty that her
languor would be admired: if she boasted she was well, it was that
the spectator might admire her glowing health: if she laughed, it
was because she thought it made her look pretty: if she cried, it
was because she thought it made her look prettier still. If she
scolded her servants, it was from vanity, to show her knowledge
superior to theirs: and she was kind to them from the same motive,
that her benevolence might excite their admiration. Forward and
impertinent in the company of her equals, from the vanity of
supposing herself above them, she was bashful even to shamefacedness
in the presence of her superiors, because her vanity told her she
engrossed all their observation. Through vanity she had no memory,
for she constantly forgot everything she heard others say, from the
minute attention which she paid to everything she said herself.