A Commissariat clerk was on duty in that city at this period, who possessed a handsome wife. With his pay and allowances, amounting to about 180_l._ a-year, he managed to live very comfortably, enjoying the society of his brethren, and appearing, in every respect, a gentleman. But, unfortunately for him, the British Ambassador, then at Lisbon, (Lord Charles Stuart,) according to custom, gave periodical balls; and what was still more unfortunate, these balls were open to every respectable member of the army who might choose to attend. Of this privilege the wife of the gentleman in question determined to avail herself, and prevailed on her husband to accompany her. Whether it required much persuasion to accomplish the consent of the latter, is not known; but certain it is, that they both attended the balls, and “turned out” in a style that would not have disgraced a Commissary-general. Besides the expensive circle of acquaintance into which this attendance at the Ambassador’s balls must necessarily have led a _married_ man, another and greater evil soon and clearly manifested itself. The Hussar brigade had then just arrived at Lisbon, splendidly equipped; and, of course, its members figured as the _lions_ of the ball-room. Amongst them was a noble Marquis, a Captain, of elegant and insinuating manners, and remarkable for his gallantry in the field--of Venus; for he had not yet essayed in that of _Mars_,--and with the Commissariat gentleman’s wife the noble Captain danced. Without entering into a philosophical examination of the characters of women in general, let us assume, that few ladies, who know how to properly esteem the pleasures of dancing in public, could well have resisted the claims to admiration which a handsome Hussar, decorated with a title, and a pair of scarlet trowsers, all laced with gold, must have brought to his aid. The heroine of this page proved her taste, and admired the Marquis, as every lady possessing her susceptibility and her notions of the _beau ideal_, must have done. It is natural to look favourably upon those who admire us. Admiration possesses extraordinary procreative powers,--it even reproduces itself. The Marquis and the Commissariat clerk’s wife became, on the first night of their dancing together, familiar acquaintances; nay, before the ball broke up, they were found to be _bona fide_ relations--absolute cousins-German, by the mother’s side! There is no doubt--they _were_ cousins: the Marquis first traced the consanguinity, the lady was delighted at the discovery, and the credulous husband _believed it_! Many garrulous people, however, attempted to prove, that this cousinship was only got up, to _cozen_ the Commissary, between the noble dancer and the sympathetic _danseuse_.[13] Be that as it may, both husband and wife felt highly honoured, as we have said, by the discovery; and the former invited the Marquis, most pressingly, to his quarters.