A widow was found, fat, fair, and forty--and oh!--charm greater far than
all the rest--with a fortune of sixty thousand pounds; this was a Mrs.
Deleau, who lived at Whaddon in Surrey, and at Copthall-court in London.
Nothing could be more charming; and the only obstacle was the absence of
all acquaintance between the parties--for, of course, it was impossible
for any widow, whatever her attractions, to be insensible to those of
Robert Fielding. Under these circumstances, the Beau looked about for an
agent, and found one in the person of a Mrs. Villars, hairdresser to the
widow. He offered this person a handsome douceur in case of success, and
she was to undertake that the lady should meet the gentleman in the most
unpremeditated manner. Various schemes were resorted to: with the
_alias_, for he was not above an _alias_, of Major-General Villars, the
Beau called at the widow's country house, and was permitted to see the
gardens. At a window he espied a lady, whom he took to be the object of
his pursuit--bowed to her majestically, and went away, persuaded he must
have made an impression. But, whether the widow was wiser than wearers
of weeds have the reputation of being, or whether the agent had really
no power in the matter, the meeting never came on.

The hairdresser naturally grew anxious, the douceur was too good to be
lost, and as the widow could not be had, some one must be supplied in
her place.

One day while the Beau was sitting in his splendid 'night-gown,' as the
morning-dress of gentlemen was then called, two ladies were ushered into
his august presence. He had been warned of this visit, and was prepared
to receive the yielding widow. The one, of course, was the hairdresser,
the other a young, pretty, and _apparently_ modest creature, who blushed
much--though with some difficulty--at the trying position in which she