His Grace lived much in the country, not being fond of town, but he did not bury himself and his fair spouse.  Few men lived more active lives and found such joy in existence.  He entertained at his country seats most brilliantly, since, though he went but seldom to London, he was able to offer London such pleasures and allurements that it was glad to come to him.  There were those who were delighted to leave the Court itself to visit Roxholm or Camylott or some other of his domains.  Men who loved hunting and out-of-door life found entertainment on the estates of a man who was the most splendid sportsman of his day, whose moors and forests provided the finest game and his stables the finest horses in England.  Women who were beauties found that in his stately rooms they might gather courts about them.  Men of letters knew that in his libraries they might delve deep into the richest mines.  Those who loved art found treasures in his galleries, and wide comprehension and finished tastes in their master.

And over the assemblies, banquets, and brilliant hunt balls there presided the woman with the loveliest eyes, ’twas said, in England, Scotland, Ireland, or Wales—­the violet eyes King Charles had been stirred by and which had caused him a bitter scene with my Lady Castlemaine, whose eyes were neither violet nor depths of tender purity.  The sweetest eyes in the world, all vowed them to be; and there was no man or woman, gentle or simple, who was not rejoiced by their smiling.

“In my book of pictures,” said the little Marquess to his mother once, “there is an angel.  She looks as you do when you come in your white robe to kiss me before you go down to dine with the ladies and gentlemen who are our guests.  Your little shining crown is made of glittering stones, and hers is only gold.  Angels wear only golden crowns—­but you are like her, mother, only more beautiful.”

The child from his first years was used to the passing and repassing across his horizon of brilliant figures and interesting ones.  From the big mullioned window of his nursery he could see the visitors come and go, he watched the beaux and beauties saunter in the park and pleasaunce in their brocades, laces, and plumed hats, he saw the scarlet coats ride forth to hunt, and at times fine chariots roll up the avenue with great people in them come to make visits of state.  His little life was full of fair pictures and fair stories of them.  When the house was filled with brilliant company he liked nothing so much as to sit on Mistress Halsell’s knee or in his chair by her side and ask her questions about the guests he caught glimpses of as they passed to and fro.  He was a child of strong imagination and with a great liking for the romantic and poetic.  He would have told to him again and again any rumour of adventure connected with those he had beheld.  He was greatly pleased by the foreign ladies and gentlemen who were among the guests—­he liked to hear of the