The _mot_ was
circulated, the _nom de nique_ repeated. Surrounded by a brilliant
band of youth and wit, even her powers of mimickry were revealed to the
initiated. More than one social tyrant, whom all disliked, but whom
none had ventured to resist, was made ridiculous. Flushed by success and
stimulated by admiration, Edith flattered herself that she was assisting
her husband while she was gratifying her vanity. Her adversaries soon
vanished, but the powers that had vanquished them were too choice to
be forgotten or neglected. The tone of raillery she had assumed for
the moment, and extended, in self-defence, to persons, was adopted as a
habit, and infused itself over affairs in general.
Mrs. Coningsby was the fashion; she was a wit as well as a beauty; a
fascinating droll; dazzling and bewitching, the idol of every youth.
Eugene de Vere was roused from his premature exhaustion, and at last
found excitement again. He threw himself at her feet; she laughed at
him. He asked leave to follow her footsteps; she consented. He was
only one of a band of slaves. Lord Beaumanoir, still a bachelor, always
hovered about her, feeding on her laughing words with a mild melancholy,
and sometimes bandying repartee with a kind of tender and stately
despair.
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