Love Romances of the Aristocracy

nting Squire Jennings, of Sandridge, in Hertfordshire. It was the day on which his Royal idol

roudly through the Kentish lanes and villages: through avenues of wildly-cheering crowds, flinging sweet may

thousand strong behind him, that Squire Jennings' daughter first opened her eyes on the world in which, though her simple-minded father little dreamt it, she was destined to play so brilliant a part. No birthday c

d, he would have laughed aloud; and yet Fate had this and more in waiting for Sarah Jennings in the years to come. The Squire himself professed to be no more than a

s, later Charles I., himself received the accolade. His mother, too, was a Thornhurst, of Agnes Court, Old Romney, a family of old lineage and high respectability; b

, was destined to a career, almost as brilliant as, and more adventurous than that of her baby-sister. Her story opened when one day she was transported, as m

coldness, he bombarded her with notes "containing the tenderest expressions and most magnificent promises," slipping them into her pocket or muff, as opportunity served; but the d

vicissitudes, Frances Jennings gave her heart and hand to Dick Talbot, the handsomest man in the British Isles; how she raised him to a Dukedom, and, as Duchess of Tyrconnel, queened it as Vicereine of Ireland; and how, in later l

ony and her toys than in all the baubles that made up the life of that very fine lady her sister, and giving no thought to her beauty, to which each day was adding its touch of grace. But she was not

se of it. Her more modest r?le was to be playfellow and companion of the Duke of York's younger daughter, Anne-a shy, backward child, a few year

and before many days had passed the timid, clinging Princess was the very slave of the vivacious, romping, strong-willed daughter of the squire. Thus was begun that union b

than her ravishing sister, but infinitely more dowered with strength of mind and character-an imperious y

s of the ladder at the summit of which he was to find a Duke's coronet. He had made his first appearance at Court while she was still in the cradle at Sandridge; and although, no doubt, she had cau

the fallen reins of government into his own hands, was made to pay a heavy price for his loyalty by the forfeiture of his lands and a fine of ￡4,000. When Charles I.'s son came to his own, Winston's star shone again; his acres were restore

charming manners, and took him at once into favour. By the time he was sixteen he was a full-blown officer of the Guards, and the idol of the Court. His good looks, his graces of p

coarse, middle-aged charms. Strange stories are told of the love-making of this oddly-assorted pair, which had a ludicrous conclusion. One day King Charles was informed that if he would take the trouble to go to Lady Castlemaine's rooms he would be rewarded by a singular spectacle-tha

off to Tangier to cool his ardour by a little bloodshed; but before he went Lady Castlemaine handed him a farewell present of ￡5,000 with which, accordi

n his reckless bravery won the unstinted praise of Turenne, who, when one of his own officers cowardly abandoned an important outpost, exclaimed, "I will bet a supper and a dozen of claret that my handsome Englishman will recover the post with half the number of men that the officer commanded who has lost it." And the "handsome Englishman" promptly won the suppe

t women at a Royal ball, her proud well-poised head rising above them as a lily towers over meaner flowers. And-such are the strange ways of love-from that first glance he was fascinated by her as no other woman ever had power to fascinate him. When he sought an introduction to

also of that little incident in a palace boudoir, and of many another youthful peccadillo of the gallant young colonel. She was no flower to be worn and flung aside; and she meant that Colonel Churchill should know it. She c

coldness and indifference he was a stranger; but they only served, as becomes a soldier, to make him more resolute on victory. As a subtle tongue and a handsome person made no impression on this frigi

e anything but your dear self, which has made so sure a conquest of me that, had I the will, I had not the po

love she must, he determined, at least give him her pity. He writes to tell her that he is "extreme i

petual torment. If the Duchess," he adds, "sees company I hope you will be there; but if she does not, I beg you will then let me see y

ess! She assumes the r?le of virtue; and, with a woman's capriciousness, charge

y, for I was afraid it was want of kindness in you, whi

he had not deigned to answer one word. Now she assumes an air of injured innocence, and accuses him of unki

tion to you, and increase the pain in your head, which would be out of anybody's power to ease until the next new play. Therefo

ique and unreason; and the despairing lover was able to take a little heart. After all, c

man for his ambitious purpose-one Catherine Sedley, daughter of his old friend Sir Charles Sedley, a lady, no longer quite young, angular and unattractive, but heiress to much gold and many broad acres. And he lost

dallied with the temptation as far as the stage of marriage-settlements; and rumour had it that the match was as good as

ing creature for money!" she raved; "and this was what all his passionate protestations of love amounted to!" Si

time before I can order so as to be out of your way of seeing me. But surely you must confess that you have been the falsest creature upon earth

who ever staked happiness on a man's constancy. But at least her anger served the purpose of bringing Churchill back to his allegiance more promptly than smiles could have done. He, who had never yielded a foot to an enemy on the field of battle, quailed

ain did he vow that he had never ceased to love her more than life-t

pity me, for I do despair of your love, but it is to let you see how unjust you are, and that I must ever love you as long as I have breath, do what you will. I do not expect in return that you should e

f, and at least wrung forgiveness from, a sphinx, she retorted that he had merely written it to amuse himself, and to "make her think that he had

shall think you the worst of men and the most ungrateful; and 'tis t

s of thawing. To his next

so much that by all that is good, I do and ever wil

answ

o make yourself happy-it is in your power. Therefore press me no more to see you, since it is what I can

d buoyant heart that he went the following day to the Duchess's drawing-room to pursue in person the advantage her letter suggested. But the very moment he entered the room by one door his capricious mistress left it by the other; and when,

o speak to him, she avoided him in a manner so marked that it became the talk of the Court, and brought her lo

ave sent her a letter which I desire you will give her. I do love her with all my soul, but will not torment her; but if I cannot have her love

thing, she declared, with tears in her pen, to deserve what he had written to her; and since

I should have been more happy than I am like to be now. However," she continued, "if you can be so well conte

er she charges him with "being content never to see her." Although she had never uttered or penned a syllable of love in return for his reams of passionate p

t been for shame I could have cried." She even swore that it was he who avoided her; and he proves to her that he had followed her elusiv

. When she had brought him to the verge of suicide by her moods and vapours she saw that the time of surrender had come; and when her lover's arm was at la

e ever fallen to the lot of mortals. How little, at that crowning moment, Sarah Churchill could have foreseen those distant days of the future, when she was left to walk alone the last