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 prefaced every introduction with a little exordium—'Lord Erskine, this is the Wild Irish Girl whom you were so anxious to know. I assure you she talks quite as well as she writes. Now, my dear, do tell Lord Erskine some of those Irish stories that you told the other evening at Lady Charleville's. Fancy yourself en petit comité, and take off the Irish brogue. Mrs. Abington says you would make a famous actress; she does indeed! This is the Duchess of St. Albans—she has your Wild Irish Girl by heart. Where is Sheridan? Do, my dear Mr. T.—(This is Mr. T., my dear, geniuses should know one another)—find me Mr. Sheridan. Oh, here he is! What! you know each other already? Tant mieux! This is Lord Carysfort. Mr. Lewis, do come forward! That is Monk Lewis, my dear, but you must not read his works, they are very naughty &hellip;&hellip; Do see, somebody, if Mr. Kemble and Mrs. Siddons have come yet, and pray tell us that scene at the Irish baronet's in the rebellion, that you told the ladies of Llangollen, and then give us your blue-stocking dinner at Sir R. Phillips's, and describe the Irish priests.' &hellip;"

This graphic snap-shot of Lady Cork's conversation illustrates better than any long descriptions how she talked, and how she showed off her lions and lionesses. At one time, she had the Prince Regent on view; at another, the Countess Guiccioli (famous from her connection with Lord