The Countess then led circuitously, but with all the ease in the world,
to the story of a Portuguese lady, of a marvellous beauty, and who was
deeply enamoured of the Chevalier Miguel de Rasadio, and engaged to be
married to him: but, alas for her! in the insolence of her happiness she
wantonly made an enemy in the person of a most unoffending lady, and she
repented it. While sketching the admirable Chevalier, the Countess drew
a telling portrait of Mr. George Uplift, and gratified her humour and her
wrath at once by strong truth to nature in the description and animated
encomiums on the individual. The Portuguese lady, too, a little
resembled Miss Carrington, in spite of her marvellous beauty. And it was
odd that Miss Carrington should give a sudden start and a horrified
glance at the Countess just when the Countess was pathetically relating
the proceeding taken by the revengeful lady on the beautiful betrothed of
the Chevalier Miguel de Rasadio: which proceeding was nothing other than
to bring to the Chevalier's knowledge that his beauty had a defect
concealed by her apparel, and that the specks in his fruit were not one,
or two, but, Oh! And the dreadful sequel to the story the Countess could
not tell: preferring ingeniously to throw a tragic veil over it. Miss
Carrington went early to bed that night.

The courage that mounteth with occasion was eminently the attribute of
the Countess de Saldar. After that dreadful dinner she (since the
weaknesses of great generals should not be altogether ignored), did pray
for flight and total obscurity, but Caroline could not be left in her
hysteric state, and now that she really perceived that Evan was
progressing and on the point of sealing his chance, the devoted lady
resolved to hold her ground. Besides, there was the pic-nic. The
Countess had one dress she had not yet appeared in, and it was for the
picnic she kept it. That small motives are at the bottom of many
illustrious actions is a modern discovery; but I shall not adopt the