“It is strict truth, I have it from her own mouth: but in the name of Brama let this go no farther. Egle is my friend, and I should be very sorry⁠—”

“Alas,” cried a third sorrowfully, “the poor little creature ruins herself very cheerfully. A great pity truly. But twenty intrigues at a time, that seems rather too much.”

The Petits-Maîtres were not more sparing of her. One related a hunting match, in which she and he lost themselves together. Another, out of respect for the sex, suppress’d the consequences of a very smart conversation he held with her at a masquerade, where he met her. A third made a panegyric on her wit and charms, and ended it by showing her portrait, which he declared he had from the best hands. “This portrait,” said a fourth, “is more like her than that, of which she made a present to Jenaki.”