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 269 WOMAN IN LOVE Romance is not confined solely to the realms of fiction. The romances of fact, indeed, are greater and more interesting ; they have made history, and have laid the foundations of the greatness both of artists and of poets. , This section of Every Woman's Encyclop.edia, therefore, will include, among thousands of other subjects : Lo7)e Poeins and Songs The Superstitio7is of Love The Engaged Girl in Many Climes Love Famous Historical Stories L^ove Letters of Famotts People Love Scenes from Fiction Proposals of Yesterday and To-day Elopements in Olden DaySy etc., etc. TRUE ILOVE STORIES ©F FAMOUS PEOPILE No. 2.- LADY HAMILTON I A MY Lyon was one of those remarkable women who, like dazzling meteors, flit from time to time across the sky of life and leave behind a trail of long and brilliant lustre. She sprang from nothing, and, before man had time to realise and appreciate the mystery of her greatness, she had vanished. To this day she remains a riddle. Her many biographers agree only on one point — she was divinely beautiful. Although the daughter of a Cheshire blacksmith, who could neither read nor write, she became the wife of an aesthete, the confidante of a queen, and the idol of Nelson. Her wit and cleverness outshone her lack of culture; her beauty concealed her vulgarity. Her beauty Romney has immor- talised, and it has immortalised his art. In 1776, at the age of fifteen, she left her country home, came to London, and began her career as a domestic servant in the house of one Dr. Budd, who at that time resided in Chatham Place, Blackfriars. The girl's fascination was without limit. The charm and seductive influence of her beauty were entrancing. London she laid prostrate at her feet. And this is all that can be said. Much of her early history is veiled in mys- tery, and, of the many anecdotes relating to her earl}^ years, all that can be proved is that they are without foundation. Ro- mance came into her life later, and with it came fame. In 1782, after she had been discarded ruthlessly by Sir Harry Fether- stonehaugh, the dissolute young baronet who, for a time, surrounded her with the insidious fruits of luxury, penniless, in distress and at her wits' end to find a means of sub- sistence for herself and her child. Amy Lyon — or, as she now called herself, Emily Hart — appealed for help to the Hon. Charles Grevell, the one friend whom she felt that she could trust. " My dear Grevell." her amazing letter began. " Yesterday did I receiv your kind letter. It put me in some spirits, for, believe me, I was almost distracktid. I have never heard from Sir H. . . . I have wrote seven letters, and no anser. What shall I dow ? Good God, what shall I dow ? I can't come to town for lack of money . . . and I think my friends looks cooly on me. I think so. . . . O.G., that I was in your possession or Sir H., what a happy girl would I have been. Girl, indeed 1 What else am I but a girl in distress — in reall distress ? For God's sake, G., write the minet you get this, and tell me what I am to dow. Direct some whay ! I am allmos mad. G. adue, and believe yours for ever, Emily Hart." Grevell did not ignore this appeal. The construction of the letter m.ust have wounded his refined and scholarly susceptibilities, but the fascination which surrounded the person of the writer baffled his resistance. To Emily, Grevell was a good friend. In his way he loved her, and, under the influence of his love and care, she acquired a delicacy and refinement of manner which were wholly new to her. For five years she lived with him in a little house in Edgware Road, a model of conscierxtious domesticity.