In her maiden days, she became the mistress of a Chinaman; tiring of him she passed into the grace and favour of a Cabinet Minister. He introduced her to the service of the late Queen, whose acquaintance she made at the house of her father, a Palace attendant of low degree, with quarters within the walls. By the time that she became a woman in the service of her Majesty, the Lady Om had presented a child to each of her respective partners. As the virtue of the women in attendance upon the Queen had of necessity to be assured, her previous admirers kept their counsel for the safety of their own heads. The Lady Om boasted abilities which distinguished her among the other maids in attendance. She sang to perfection, danced with consummate grace; painted with no little delicacy and originality, and could read, write, and speak Chinese and Korean with agreeable fluency. The Queen took a fancy to her apparently innocent, guileless, and very lovable attendant. Imitating the excellent example of his illustrious spouse, his Majesty sealed the rape of virtue with a kingly smile. The Queen grew restless. Suspicion, confirmed by appearances, developed into certainty, and the Lady Om fled from the Palace to escape the anger and jealousy of her late mistress. The third child, of whom Lady Om became the mother, was born beyond the capital, in the place of refuge where the errant Griselle had taken up her abode. Meanwhile, Lady Om avoided the parental establishment within the purlieus of the Palace. Upon the death of her third child she sought the protection of another high official. With him she dwelt in safety, peace, and happiness, becoming, through her strange faculty of presenting each admirer with evidences of her innocence, the subject of some ribald songs. Since her return to Imperial favour, these verses have been suppressed, and may not be uttered upon pain of emasculation.