“Well, as to that, as I was going on to say, after he had beat the bush all around among the young birds, leaving several of them wounded on the ground-you understand this sort of thing-he took to the older ones, and set them polishing up their feathers.  And having set several very respectable families by the ears, and created a terrible flutter among a number of married dames-he was an adept in this sort of diplomacy, you see-it was discovered that one very distinguished Mrs. Constance, leader of fashion to the St. Cecilia, (and on that account on no very good terms with the vulgar world, that was forever getting up scandal to hurl at the society that would not permit it to soil, with its common muslin, the fragrant atmosphere of its satin and tulle), had been carrying on a villanous intrigue-yes, Madam! villanous intrigue!  I said discovered:  the fact was, this gallant Baronet, with one servant and no establishment, was fˆted and fooled for a month, until he came to the very natural and sensible conclusion, that we were all snobbs-yes, snobbs of the very worst kind.  But there was no one who fawned over and flattered the vanity of this vain man more than the husband of Mrs. Constance.  This poor man idolized his wife, whom he regarded as the very diamond light of purity, nor ever mistrusted that the Baronet’s attentions were bestowed with any other than the best of motives.  Indeed, he held it extremely condescending on the part of the Baronet to thus honor the family with his presence.

“And the Baronet, you see, with that folly so characteristic of Baronets, was so flushed with his success in this little intrigue with Madame Constance-the affair was too good for him to keep!—­that he went all over town showing her letters.  Such nice letters as they were-brim full of repentance, love, and appointments.  The Baronet read them to Mr. Barrows, laughing mischievously, and saying what a fool the woman must be.  Mr. Barrows couldn’t keep it from Mrs. Barrows, Mrs. Barrows let the cat out of the bag to Mrs. Simpson, and Mrs. Simpson would let Mr. Simpson have no peace till he got on the soft side of the Baronet, and, what was not a difficult matter, got two of the letters for her to have a peep into.  Mrs. Simpson having feasted her eyes on the two Mr. Simpson got of the Baronet, and being exceedingly fond of such wares as they contained, must needs-albeit, in strict confidence-whisper it to Mrs. Fountain, who was a very fashionable lady, but unfortunately had a head very like a fountain, with the exception that it ejected out double the amount it took in.  Mrs. Fountain-as anybody might have known-let it get all over town.  And then the vulgar herd took it up, as if it were assafotida, only needing a little stirring up, and hurled it back at the St. Cecilia, the character of which it would damage without a pang of remorse.

“Then the thing got to Constance’s ears; and getting into a terrible passion, poor Constance swore nothing would satisfy him but the Baronet’s life.  But the Baronet—­”