Lady Mary was probably more complaisant on paper than actually in her conduct of life.  She desired male as well as female companionship; she liked the admiration and the flattery of men, and, no doubt, did her best to evoke it.  It is strange, however, that with her beauty—­for that she was in her early years beautiful has generally been accepted—­she was not unduly attractive to men.  It may be that her good looks brought young men to her feet, and that her tongue drove them away.  In no age has a clever woman been very popular with the other sex, and in the early years of the eighteenth century, when girls could do little more than read and write—­and not always so much—­wit such as hers and the readiness of reply with which she was gifted must have been a deterrent.  What could the ordinary social butterfly think of a Lady Mary who had as a friend Mary Ansell, the author of a Serious Proposal to Ladies—­ what, though perhaps not one of them had read the book?

Still, there was enough levity in Lady Mary’s behaviour in society for her to think it desirable to make some explanation to Montagu.

“[Indorsed ‘9 April,’ 1711.]

“I thought to return no answer to your letter, but I find I am not so wise as I thought myself.  I cannot forbear fixing my mind a little on that expression, though perhaps the only insincere one in your whole letter—­I would die to be secure of your heart, though but for a moment:—­were this but true, what is there I would not do to secure you?

“I will state the case to you as plainly as I can; and then ask yourself if you use me well.  I have shewed, in every action of my life, an esteem for you that at least challenges a grateful regard.  I have trusted my reputation in your hands; I have made no scruple of giving you, under my own hand, an assurance of my friendship.  After all this, I exact nothing from you:  if you find it inconvenient for your affairs to take so small a fortune, I desire you to sacrifice nothing to me; I pretend no tie upon your honour:  but, in recompence for so clear and so disinterested a proceeding, must I ever receive injuries and ill usage?

“I have not the usual pride of my sex; I can bear being told I am in the wrong, but tell it me gently.  Perhaps I have been indiscreet; I came young into the hurry of the world; a great innocence and an undesigning gaiety may possibly have been construed coquetry and a desire of being followed, though never meant by me.  I cannot answer for the [reflections] that may be made on me:  all who are malicious attack the careless and defenceless:  I own myself to be both.  I not anything I can say more to shew my perfect desire of pleasing you and making you easy, than to proffer to be confined with you in what manner you please.  Would any woman but me renounce all the world for one? or would any man but you be insensible of such a proof of sincerity?”

From an early age Lady Mary indulged her somewhat mordant humour, not less in her letters than in her conversation, and as that quality must have some subject upon which to exercise itself, she was generally on the look-out for some tit-bit of scandal which she could relate in her own inimitable manner.