Thus it was, whatever may be the solution of the mystery, that, one August day in 1746, Lady Jean was led to the altar by her aged pauper lover, and a few days later the happy pair landed at Rotterdam, with a retinue consisting of a Mrs Hewit (Lady Jean’s maid) and a couple of female servants, leaving her ladyship’s creditors to wrangle over the belongings she had left behind at Edinburgh.

From Rheims, to which town the wedding party journeyed, Lady Jean wrote to her man of business, Mr Haldane:—­

“It is mighty certain that my anticipations were never in the marrying way; and had I not at last been absolutely certain that my brother was resolved never to marry, I never should have once thought of doing it; but since this was his determined, unalterable resolution, I judged it fit to overcome a natural disinclination and backwardness, and to put myself in the way of doing something for a family not the worst in Scotland; and, therefore, gave my hand to Mr Stewart, the consequence of which has proved more happy than I could well have expected.”

Such was the unenthusiastic letter Lady Jean wrote on her honeymoon, assigning as her motive for the marriage a wish “to do something for her family,” which could scarcely be other than to provide heirs to the Douglas lands—­an ambition which to the most sanguine lady of her age must have seemed sufficiently doubtful of realisation.

Then began a wandering life for the grotesque pair.  Rheims, Utrecht, Geneva, Aix-la-Chapelle, Liege, and many another Continental town appear in turn on their erratic itinerary, the Colonel travelling as Lady Jean’s maitre d’hotel, and never avowed by her as her husband; and at every place of halting my lady finds fresh victims for her clever tongue and ingratiating charm of manner, who, in return for her smiles and flatteries, keep her purse supplied.  Now it is young Lord Blantyre who succumbs to her wiles, and follows her from place to place like a shadow, drawing large sums from his mother to “lend to my Lady Jean, who is at a loss by not receiving letters which were to bring her remittances.”  Now it is Mr Hay, Mr Dalrymple, or some other susceptible admirer who obliges her by a temporary loan, and is amply rewarded by learning from her lips that he is “the man alive I would choose to be most obliged by.”  Thus, by a system of adroit flatteries, Lady Jean keeps the family exchequer so well replenished that she is able to take about with her a retinue consisting of two maids and a man-cook, in addition to the indispensable Mrs Hewit; and to ride in her carriage, while her husband stakes his golden louis on the green cloth and drinks costly wines.

Even such an astute man of the world as Lord Crawford she makes her devoted slave, ready at any moment to place his purse and services at her disposal, to the extent of breaking the news of her marriage to the Duke, her brother, and begging for his approval and favour; a task which must have gone considerably against the grain with the proud Scotsman.