that the tie which she had considered sacred was contemned by the Duke, she left his roof and went forth penniless, to earn her living by her former profession. It was this spirited action of Mrs. Jordan, and the shameful conduct of the Duke, which gave her such popularity on her reappearance at Covent Garden Theatre. Every expression in the plays she acted, which could be made to apply to her situation, brought down the house and showed John Bull's strong sense of injustice. But this could not last long. She was no longer young; she was enormously fat, and this spoiled her for a comic actress, so she was obliged to leave the stage, and all I know of her, after this, is, that she died in France, so poor as to have a pauper's funeral.

How her children could suffer this, if they knew of her poverty, I cannot imagine; perhaps her disinterested love for them made her keep them ignorant of her whereabouts and her necessities. She may have acted the part of the fabled pelican, and sacrificed herself for the good of her young. If so, she had some reward, even in this life, for her leaving them entirely changed their position in the world. They were immediately noticed by the royal family, received at court, and sought in marriage by the highest nobility.

CHAPTER XII.

BATH. BEAU NASH. THE B

TH

FAMILY.

◄HOUGH separated by a week's journey from our London friends, we had frequent opportunities of meeting. They would come to see us in Wales, and we would visit them in the metropolis. Sometimes we spent a few weeks in the city of Bath, which was rather more than half-way to London, and there we were sure to meet some of our dearest friends, who made a point of drinking the chalybeate waters there every winter. Bath was then unlike every other city; it was built for the benefit of invalids, who came there on account of the hot mineral springs, and the municipal arrangements were made with regard to them.

Many of the streets were paved all over with large flag-stones, over which no carriages were allowed to pass. There were several hundred sedan chairs, carried by tall porters, dressed in uniform, which were numbered and registered at an office, and obliged to be kept exquisitely clean; numerous rules were made to regulate the behavior and the fares of the chairmen. Wheelchairs, too, were on the same footing. Very large

public baths were maintained by the city for the use of the sick. In the centre, the boiling hot springs bubbled up, and all around the sides were the dressing-rooms for the bathers, who frequently spent hours in the bath, which was shallow enough on one side to admit of stone benches, on which to sit with the water up to the neck. I have seen a man so crippled by rheumatism as to be carried into the bath, and after he had been in a few minutes in could walk about. All the bathers wore dresses, and men and women went in together.

One great amusement of Bath was the Pumproom, an immense hall with an arched roof. There was a gallery at one end for the band to play in, and at the side, opposite the main entrance, was a marble counter, enclosing the faucets that supplied the company with the mineral waters, and a woman who filled and refilled the glasses. Between the draughts, the invalid was ordered to walk half an hour, and those under this treatment took the waters before breakfast and before dinner, and walked up and down the room between the glasses. Before breakfast they were without music and without lookers-on; but from two till four o'clock the band played and the room was full, being frequented by many besides the invalids. It was a very gay scene; all the fashion and beauty of the season met

there, to walk and talk, to discuss the news of the day and make arrangements for the evening amusements. Two sets of very handsome assembly rooms were provided by the city, and subscription balls were held in them every week. Here, too, the authorities interfered for the good of the invalid: no dancing was allowed after eleven o'clock, and this made people willing to begin at eight. Besides all these peculiar arrangements, there was one still more uncommon, and that was the appointment of a Master of Ceremonies, who continued from year to year to preside over these balls, and did all in his power to promote the pleasure of the visitors. On arriving in Bath, the head of the family was expected to call on the Master of Ceremonies, and leave his card and a guinea fee. Then this call was returned, and all the members of the family were introduced. One man distinguished himself in this walk of life, and made his very equivocal calling to be respected. Beau Nash, as he was called, was a handsome man, with elegant manners, and sufficient confidence in himself not to be put down by the insolence of fashion. was often ill-treated, and sometimes insulted; but he never appeared to be disturbed by it. He presided over the balls, and was bound to find partners for all the young ladies whose fathers had called on him. This was no easy task, when

He

the exquisites of the day voted dancing to be a bore. He was one evening trying to persuade a knot of young men to take partners, and praising the young girls who wanted to dance, when one of them said, "Very well, Nash; trot 'em by, and let us see them."

One ball, near the beginning of the season, was made more elegant than any other; certain things were required, even in the dress of the ladies; and the ball opened with the stately and graceful dance called the Minuet de la Cour, performed by the Master of Ceremonies with any young lady who was coming out into the world for the first time. If there were several débutantes, he danced with each, and that was called coming out.

It had been fashionable to wear lace aprons in full dress, and all sorts of muslin aprons at other times; but they were no longer the mode, and they were forbidden at this ball. A very fashionable Duchess was about to enter the room with a beautiful point-lace apron on. The doorkeeper told her she could not go in with that apron. She insisted she would, but the man would not permit it; so she sent for Mr. Nash, saying she knew he would not object to such an apron as that. He came, and he did object so strongly that the Duchess was obliged to submit; so she took off the offending lace, and very good. naturedly threw it at Mr. Nash, saying, "There!