say of any burst of passion, How well that would tell upon the stage! or, as Wordsworth says,
"Each man has some one object of pursuit,
To which he sedulously devotes himself."
Now, Lady Penrhyn had her ruling passion—she held that mankind were sent upon earth for one express purpose—to be flirted with; and she carried flirtation to its last extremity. To no admiration was she quite indifferent, unless she had been in possession of it for some time—a lover was as necessary to her existence as a diamond, but she was not very particular as to who that lover might be; a list of her adorateurs would have included a most curious collection of contrasts. All the time she professed the utmost devotion to her husband, and lover after lover was dismissed, not a little surprised to find that there was some truth in it. The fact was, her husband represented house, carriage, and position in society. She would have had something to lose by losing him, whereas the loss of a lover was nothing.
It might seem at first sight extraordinary how she contrived to keep her list so well supplied; but nothing deceives its possessor like vanity—so far from taking warning by another's disappointment, it only holds it as an additional trophy to its own success. Lady Penrhyn had been, and was still, a very pretty woman, with superb dark eyes, and a perfect understanding of the toilette; she dressed with seeming carelessness, but it was truly "most studied to kill". Added to
