“One thing Secretary Bolt would, do that always displeased me, as did everything that tended to lower the dignity of the corps.  It was this:—­My lady loved dearly her drives in the park, and took them nearly every day, at the most fashionable hour of five.  Bolt, in cloth exquisite, had always his seat at her side, where his special office seemed that of nursing her favorite poodle and smoothing the Earl, who on the front seat sat with icy straightness, all over with cheap compliments.  This was all very fine as far as it went!  Being proud of Bolt, as I have before related, we generously overlooked in him those errors which are rather the result of vanity than the natural offspring of an imperfect education.  But we, as a nation have a worthy aversion to paying a dear price for the maintenance of dignity; hence Bolt, whose salary was but a paltry pittance in an atmosphere of singular extravagance, soon found himself becoming involved for the adjuncts necessary to such a connection.  A happy thought, however, soon flashed across his mind:  was he not protected by the sacred character of the mission?  Of course he was!—­away all misgivings!  What was the contemplation of such dreary matter to the pleasing recollection of those fair ones whose hearts he had made flutter!  And then, not a day passed but he received no end of pretty missives, perfumed and enveloped with curiously wrought lace, and virtuous satin,—­all bearing the tenderest burdens of love and despair.  Bolt was indeed fairly set upon by rival candidates for his heart, which was supposed to possess a large portion of susceptibility.  Nor were his admirers merely confined to the satin and velvet of the aristocracy, for ‘pretty Betty,’ maid of all work to the Legation, and on that account so vain of the honor that she would not condescend to associate with servants not attached to the corps, was by Thomas, a wonderfully sagacious footman, discovered to be the writer of an highly scented missive, directed as an arrow at the heart of Bolt.  That this little shaft of the tender passion contained some truly original lines the enlightened cannot doubt; and I think I may assert without fear of contradiction that Betty did in these lines, notwithstanding they evinced a sovereign contempt for orthography and versification, discover a deep knowledge of diplomacy.  I say this for the reason that her diction could be construed to mean anything but what she intended; albeit there was such an openness about it generally that any clever gentleman might walk in at the back door.  I thought it highly creditable in Betty to attempt a thing so mighty as the conquest of Bolt’s heart—­indeed there was an admirable heroism about it; but it caused a great flutter in the kitchen, where the sensitive Thomas brought forward a motion for her extradition.  Thomas would not for the world have the character of gentlemen up stairs sullied by vulgar hands.