dark (not too dark) hair and the ivory of the skin; such sweet radiance
in the lip when it broke into a smile. And it was said that in her
maiden day, before Caroline Lyndsay became Marchioness of Montfort, that
smile was the most joyous thing imaginable. Absurd now; you would not
think it, but that stately lady had been a wild, fanciful girl, with the
merriest laugh and the quickest tear, filling the air round her with
April sunshine. Certainly, no beings ever yet lived the life Nature
intended them to live, nor had fair play for heart and mind, who
contrived, by hook or by crook, to marry the wrong person!




CHAPTER VIII.

The interior of the great house.--The British Constitution at home
in a family party.

Great was the family gathering that Christmas-tide at Montfort Court.
Thither flocked the cousins of the House in all degrees and of various
ranks. From dukes, who had nothing left to wish for that kings and
cousinhoods can give, to briefless barristers and aspiring cornets, of
equally good blood with the dukes,--the superb family united its motley
scions. Such reunions were frequent: they belonged to the hereditary
policy of the House of Vipont. On this occasion the muster of the clan
was more significant than usual; there was a "CRISES" in the
constitutional history of the British empire. A new Government had been
suddenly formed within the last six weeks, which certainly portended some
direful blow on our ancient institutions; for the House of Vipont had not
been consulted in its arrangements, and was wholly unrepresented in the