A STRANGE STORY.

BY THE AUTHOR OF "MY NOVEL," "RIENZI," &c

CHAPTER VII.

I have given a sketch of the outward woman
of Mrs Colenel Poyntz. The inner woman was a
recondite mystery, deep as that of the sphynx,
whose features her own resembled. But between
the outward and the inward woman there is
ever a third woman— the conventional woman—
such as the whole human being appears to the
world— always mantled, sometimes masked.

I am told that the fine people of London do
not recognise the title of " Mrs. Colonel."
If that be true, the fine people of London must
be clearly in the wrong, for no people in the
universe could be finer than the fine people of
Abbey Hill; and they considered their
sovereign had as good a right to the title of Mrs.
Colonel as the Queen of England has to that
of "our Gracious Lady." But Mrs. Poyntz,
herself, never assumed the title of Mrs.
Colonel; it never appeared on her cards any
more than the title of "Gracious Lady" appears
on the cards, which convey the invitation that a
Lord Steward or Lord Chamberlain is
commanded by her Majesty to issue. To titles,
indeed, Mrs. Poyntz evinced no superstitious
reverence. Two peeresses, related to her, not
distantly, were in the habit of paying her a
yearly visit which lasted two or three days.
The Hill considered these visits an honour to
its eminence. Mrs Poyntz never seemed to
in them an honour to herself; never boasted
of them; never sought to show off her grand
relations, nor put herself the least out of the
way to receive; them. Her mode of life was
free from ostentation. She had the advantage of
being a few hundreds a year richer than any
other inhabitant of the Hill; but she did not
devote her superior resources to the invidious
exhibition of superior splendour. Like a wise
sovereign the revenues of her exchequer were
applied to the benefit of her subjects, and not
to the vanity of egotistical parade. As no one
else on the Hill kept a carriage, she declined to
keep one. Her entertainments were simple, but
numerous. Twice a week she received the Hill,
and was genuinely at home to it. She contrived
to make her parties proverbially agreeable.
The refreshments were of the same kind
as those which the poorest of her old maids of
honour might proffer; but they were better of
their kind, the best, of their kind— the best tea, the
best lemonade, the best cakes. Her rooms had
an air of comfort, which was peculiar to them.
They looked like rooms accustomed to receive
and receive in a friendly way; well warmed,
well lighted, card tables and piano in the place
that made cards and music inviting. On the
walls a few old family portraits, and three or
four other pictures said to be valuable and certainly
pleasing two Watteaus, a Canaletti, a
Weenix— plenty of easy-chairs and settees
covered with a cheerful chintz. In the arrangement
of the furniture generally, an indescribable
careless elegance. She herself was
studiously plain in dress, more conspicuously free
from jewellery and trinkets than any married
lady on the Hill. But I have heard from those
who were authorities on such a subject, that
she was never seen in a dress of the last year's
fashion. She adopted the mode as it came out,
just enough to show that she was aware it was
out; but with a sober reserve, as much as to
say, " I adopt the fashion as far as it suits
myself; I do not permit the fashion to adopt
me." In short, Mrs. Colonel Poyntz was
sometimes rough, sometimes coarse, always
masculine, and yet somehow or other masculine
in a womanly way; but she was never vulgar
because never affected. It was impossible not
to allow that she was a thorough gentlewoman,
and she could do things that lower other gentlewomen,
without any loss of dignity. Thus she
was an admirable mimic, certainly in itself the
least ladylike condescension of humour. But
when she mimicked, it was with so tranquil a
gravity, or so royal a good humour, that one
could only say, " What talents for society
Mrs. Colonel has!" As she was a gentlewoman
emphatically, so the other colonel, the he-colonel,
was emphatically a gentleman; rather shy, but not
cold; hating trouble of every kind, pleased to
seem a cipher in his own house. If the sole
study of Mrs. Colonel had been to make her
husband comfortable, she could not have
succeeded better than by bringing friends about
him and then taking them off his hands. Colonel
Poyntz the he-colonel, had seen in his
youth actual service; but had retired from his
profession many years ago, shortly after his
marriage. He was a younger brother of one of
the principal squires in the county; inherited
the house he lived in, with some other valuable