the tender curves of those classic lips, or more delicate than their faint carmine tinge.  In an epoch when almost every woman of fashion plastered herself with bismuth and ceruse, Lord Bramber’s daughter could afford to exhibit the complexion nature had given her, and might defy paint to match it.  Lady Judith laughed at her conquest when she was told about it by half a dozen different admirers at the Rooms next morning.

“What, that Topsparkle man!” she exclaimed—­“the traveled Cit who has been exploring all sorts of savage places in Spain and Italy, and writing would-be witty letters about his travels.  They say he is richer than any nabob in Hindostan.  Yes, I plagued him vastly, I believe, before I consented to unmask; and then he pretended to be dumbfounded at my charms, for-sooth; dazzled by this sun into which you gentlemen look without flinching, like young eagles.”

“My dear Lady Judith, the man is captivated—­your slave forever.  You had better put a ring in his nose and lead him about with you, instead of that little black boy for whom you sighed the other day, and that his Lordship denied you.  He is quite the richest man in London, three or four times a millionaire, and he is on the point of buying Lord Ringwood’s place in Hampshire—­a genuine mediaeval abbey, with half a mile of cloisters and a fish-pond in the kitchen.”

“I care neither for cloisters nor kitchen.”

“Ay, but you have a weakness for diamonds,” urged Mr. Mordaunt, an old admirer, who was very much au courant as to the fair Judith’s history and habits, had lent her money when she was losing at basset, and had diplomatized with her creditors for her.  “Witness that cross the Jew sold you the other day.”

Lady Judith reddened angrily.  The same Jew dealer who sold her the jewel had insisted upon having it back from her when he discovered her inability to pay for it, threatening to prosecute her for obtaining goods under false pretenses.

“Mr. Topsparkle’s diamonds—­they belonged to his mother—­are historical.  His maternal grandfather was an Amsterdam Jew, and the greatest diamond merchant of his time.  He had mills where the gems were ground as corn is ground in our country, and seem to have been as plentiful as corn.  Egad, Lady Judith, how you would blaze in the Topsparkle diamonds!”

“Mr. Topsparkle must be sixty years of age!” exclaimed, the lady, with sovereign contempt.

“Nobody supposes you would marry him for his youth or his personal attractions.  Yet he is by no means a bad-looking man, and he has had plenty of adventures in his day, I can assure your Ladyship. Il a vecu, as our neighbors say:  Topsparkle is no simpleton.  When he set out upon the grand tour nearly forty years ago, he carried with him about as scandalous a reputation as a gentleman of fashion could enjoy.  He had been cut by all the strait-laced people; and it is only the fact of his incalculable wealth which has opened the doors of decent houses for him since his return.”