—Thomas Moore “And how was your drive in the Park with the fair princess?” asked Fitz the following evening as both gentlemen with their bicornes and canes tucked under their arms made their way to the opera. “I did not have an opportunity to take Miss Goodenough driving. Her drawing room was packed with curious society, all content to stare at her as if she were a freak at Bartholomew Fair. I presented my compliments, promised to call again when I should find her not so besieged, and took my leave,” said the earl. “She must be enjoying all the attention.” “Not she,” said the earl, tossing a coin to a crossing sweeper. “She remained calm and stately, but at the back of her eyes was a flicker of fear. Our princess is not only not a princess but, I should think, of quite common clay. That uncle of hers looks as if he should be a servant rather than a gentleman.” “Come now! You are too harsh. I found Mr. Goodenough very gentlemanly.” “But there is a deference there, a whole attitude of service.
