"I regret to perceive by your letters, dearest Eliza, that _you_ are not altogether happy. You say that the Grand Duke loves you; but his temper is arbitrary—his disposition despotic. And yet he is amiable and gentle in his bearing towards you. Study to solace yourself with this conviction. He has elevated you to a rank amongst the reigning princesses of Europe; and as you have embraced the honours, so must you endure some few of the political alarms and annoyances which are invariably attached to so proud a position. You tremble lest the conduct of the Grand Duke, in alienating from him those who are considered his best friends, should endanger his crown. Are you convinced that those persons are indeed his friends! Of course I know not—I cannot determine: I would only counsel you, my dearest friend, not to form hasty conclusions relative to the policy of his Serene Highness. "I perceive by the English newspapers, that there are numerous Castelcicalan refugees in this country. Amongst them are General Grachia and Colonel Morosino, both of whom, I believe, occupied high offices in their native land. They, however, appear, so far as I can learn, to be dwelling tranquilly in London—no doubt awaiting the happy moment when it shall please your illustrious husband to recall them from exile. "His Highness Alberto of Castelcicala—(for you are aware that the Earl of Warrington communicated to me some time ago the real rank and name of _Count Alteroni_)—continues to reside at his villa near Richmond. This much I glean from the public journals; but doubtless you are well acquainted with all these facts, inasmuch as your government has a representative at the English court. "Adieu for the present, dearest Eliza:—I knew not, when I sate down, that I should have been enabled to write so long a letter. But I must now change my dress; for the carriage will be here shortly to convey me to Warrington Park, where we are to pass the honeymoon. "Ever your sincere friend, "DIANA." Such are the strange phases which this world presents to our view! That same Fortune, who, in a moment of caprice, had raised an obscure English lady to a ducal throne, placed, when in a similar mood, a coronet upon the brow of another who had long filled a most equivocal position in society. CHAPTER CLXXI. MR. GREENWOOD'S DINNER-PARTY. Some few days after the events just related, Mr. G. M. Greenwood, M.P., entertained several gentlemen at dinner at his residence in Spring Gardens. The banquet was served up at seven precisely:—Mr. Greenwood had gradually made his dinner hour later as he had risen in the world; and he was determined that if ever he became a baronet, he would never have that repast put on table till half-past eight o'clock.