The Argosy — page 79: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

Eve: An Idyll, 69 Sometime in the earlier half of the last century—I am not quite sure of the exact date, so will not commit myself—the Countess of Milla- mant, then a young widow, was one of the reigning queens of fashion. Rich and beautiful, with some wit, and many whims, she was adored by the men, slandered by the women, and envied by all. She cared for none of her suitors ; but kept them all chained to her footstool. Capricious as her pet monkey, and spiteful as her parrot, but beautiful as an angel, she was worshipped, féted, and lampooned. All courted her for one cause or another ; and she was now just beginning to be sick of adulation and of pleasure. Weary of continual sunshine, she even longed for a passing cloud, and, in short, was ready to die of ennui, under its then fashionable title of spleen. See her holding her little court this fine June morning in—don’t be shocked—her bed-chamber, and in—don’t be still more shocked—her bed. Yes, there she is, in the midst of clouds of lace, cambric, and fine linen, looking—TI really must use the well-worn simile, it is so appropriate—like Venus rising from the sea foam. Her face is made up for the day, and glows with artificial brilliancy—her large brown eyes, which no art can alter, shining with a lustre all their own, and appearing unnaturally conspicuous, amid the mass of white paint and powder which conceals both hair and skin. Her bed is all satin and lace, the quilt a miracle of embroidery, fit screen before so fair a shrine. The lofty room is hung with finest tapestry, where nymphs and cupids disport theniselves in airy attitudes ~- and scanty garments. The carpet is of thickest pile, the toilette a little museum of curiosities, and tall Venetian mirrors reflect and multiply the Juxurious scene. I said the Countess was holding her court; the courtiers all of the male sex; and no harm wasthought. French manners prevailed in the highest classes, and the reigning beauties often received their earliest bevy of adorers half concealed by the gorgeous curtains of their nightly couch. Now, who were the adorers? First, shall the Church have prefer- ence. The family chaplain, in a distant window, flirted with the attendant abigail. Not daring to raise his eyes to the glorious midday sun, he worshipped its pale reflection in the moon, as personified by comely Mistress Prudence, so by name at least, if not by nature. The army was represented by Captain Terence O'Brien, a descendant of all the kings of Ireland; but descended so low that he would have been well content to forego his chance of the lovely widow's hand, could he only have hoped she would bestow on him a gift or loan to enable him to continue his gambling speculations. A brace of lordlings were foremost in the picture. One, fair and foolish, loved the lady for herself ; the other, an ugly fellow, with sharp wits and flattering tongue, sought to repair his fallen fortunes|at her comicbooks.com