'
After this anecdote one cannot give much credence to this lady's
humility: Bridget was, however, a woman of powerful intellect, weakened
by her extreme, and, to use a now common term, _crochety_ opinions.
Like most _esprits forts_, she was easily imposed upon. One day this
paragon saw a mountebank dancing on a stage in the most exquisite style.
His fine shape, too, caught the attention of one who assumed to be above
all folly. It is sometimes fatal to one's peace to look out of a window;
no one knows what sights may rivet or displease. Mistress Ireton was
sitting at her window unconscious that any one with the hated and
malignant name of 'Villiers' was before her. After some unholy
admiration, she sent to speak to the mummer. The duke scarcely knew
whether to trust himself in the power of the bloodthirsty Ireton's bride
or not--yet his courage--his love of sport--prevailed. He visited her
that evening: no longer, however, in his jack-pudding coat, but in a
rich suit, disguised with a cloak over it. He wore still a plaster over
one eye, and was much disposed to take it off, but prudence forbade; and
thus he stood in the presence of the prim and saintly Bridget Ireton.
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