without much mischief and much scandal. It was long since William
had ceased to be the lover of Elisabeth Villiers, long since he
had asked her counsel or listened to her fascinating conversation
except in the presence of other persons. She had been some years
married to George Hamilton, a soldier who had distinguished
himself by his courage in Ireland and Flanders, and who probably
held the courtier like doctrine that a lady is not dishonoured by
having been the paramour of a king. William was well pleased with
the marriage, bestowed on the wife a portion of the old Crown
property in Ireland, and created the husband a peer of Scotland
by the title of Earl of Orkney. Assuredly William would not have
raised his character by abandoning to poverty a woman whom he had
loved, though with a criminal love. He was undoubtedly bound, as
a man of humanity and honour, to provide liberally for her; but
he should have provided for her rather by saving from his civil
list than by alienating his hereditary revenue. The four
malecontent commissioners rejoiced with spiteful joy over this
discovery. It was in vain that the other three represented that
the grant to Lady Orkney was one with which they had nothing to
do, and that, if they went out of their way to hold it up to
obloquy, they might be justly said to fly in the King's face. "To
fly in the King's face!" said one of the majority; "our business
is to fly in the King's face. We were sent here to fly in the
King's face." With this patriotic object a paragraph about Lady
Orkney's grant was added to the report, a paragraph too in which
the value of that grant was so monstrously exaggerated that
William appeared to have surpassed the profligate extravagance of
his uncle Charles. The estate bestowed on the countess was valued
at twenty-four thousand pounds a year. The truth seems to be that
the income which she derived from the royal bounty, after making