As you may have imagined before now, the doctor’s profession was leisure, not medicine.  He had known ambition once, it was said, and with reason, for he had studied surgery in Germany for the mere love of the science.  After which, making the grand tour in France and Italy, he had taken up that art of being a gentleman in which men became so proficient in my young days.  He had learned to speak French like a Parisian, had hobnobbed with wit and wickedness from Versailles to Rome, and then had come back to Annapolis to set the fashions and to spend the fortune his uncle lately had left him.  He was our censor of beauty, and passed judgment upon all young ladies as they stepped into the arena.  To be noticed by him meant success; to be honoured in the Gazette was to be crowned at once a reigning belle.  The chord of his approval once set a-vibrating, all minor chords sang in harmony.  And it was the doctor who raised the first public toast to Miss Manners.  Alas!  I might have known it would be so!

But Miss Dorothy was not of a nature to remain dependent upon a censor’s favour.  The minx deported herself like any London belle of experience, as tho’ she had known the world from her cradle.  She was not to be deceived by the face value of the ladies’ praises, nor rebuffed unmercifully by my Aunt Caroline, who had held the sceptre in the absence of a younger aspirant.  The first time these ladies clashed, which was not long in coming, my aunt met with a wit as sharp again as her own, and never afterwards essayed an open tilt.  The homage of men Dolly took as Caesar received tribute, as a matter of course.  The doctor himself rode to the races beside the Manners coach, leaning gallantly over the door.  My lady held court in her father’s box, received and dismissed, smiled and frowned, with Courtenay as her master of ceremonies.  Mr. Dulany was one of the presidents of the Jockey Club that year, and his horse winning the honours he presented her with his colours, scarlet and white, which she graciously wore.  The doctor swore he would import a horse the next season on the chance of the privilege.  My aunt was furious.  I have never mentioned her beauty because I never could see it.  ’Twas a coarser type than attracted me.  She was then not greatly above six and thirty, appearing young for that age, and she knew the value of lead in judicious quantity.  At that meet gentlemen came to her box only to tally of Miss Manners, to marvel that one so young could have the ‘bel air’, to praise her beauty and addresse, or to remark how well Mr. Durlany’s red and white became her.  With all of which Mrs. Grafton was fain to agree, and must even excel, until her small stock of patience was exhausted.  To add to her chagrin my aunt lost a pretty sum to the rector by Mr. Dulany’s horse.  I came upon her after the race trying to coax her head-dress, through her coach door, Mr. Allen having tight hold of her hand the while.