sent to waste two of her prettiest years in the dull seclusion of an old house in the country.
"What blooming simplicity!" exclaimed Lord Townshend.
"Positive milk of roses!" exclaimed Lady Mary Wortley Montague: but the sneer passed unheeded; and Lord Townshend, crossing the room, entreated Mrs. Courtenaye to present him to her lovely young friend.
Miss Walpole was a soft, sleepy-looking beauty, with a pretty, startled, fawnlike look in her large eyes; shy, silent, and with gathered blushes of two summers on her cheek: but, if she had few words, she had a great many smiles, and of these Lord Townshend had the entire benefit. She was just one of those sweet and simple creatures whose attraction Talleyrand so well described, when he was asked what was the charm he found in Madame's society: "C'est que cela me repose!"
Nothing could be more satisfactory than this conquest was to Lord Norbourne; he saw how it would strengthen the connexion between
