between four married belles, about one poor unmarried beau, who had somehow or other undertaken to please them all, and ended by pleasing neither, not having tact enough to keep one from being jealous of the other.
But society is gradually changing its tone at Saratoga; the old elite set of ten and fifteen years ago, who reigned in queenly style, are passing away, and seeking more quiet resorts; some still remain, but not enough to keep up the old aristocratic prestige of the place, as is always the case when circles swell to too large an extent.
I hope the few incidents mentioned by me in these pages will injure no one. I merely write them out for the amusement of those who may wish to indulge themselves in a little gossip which has no evil intention in the world. My anecdotes are not intended to have any connection one with the other at all; and, as I said in the beginning, I hope my readers will excuse my rambling, desultory style. Some who were at Saratoga at the time of the following occurrence, may be amused to have it recalled to them, and as I shall call no names, I trust I shall do no harm.
In 1853, there came to Saratoga a wealthy widow, with her aunt. A gentleman visiting Saratoga, saw her, courted her, and married her. The next season they came to Saratoga again, where, when they had first met, all had been so bright to both—but now clouded over with discontent and misery. The aunt was still with her, and they seemed to cling to each other with great devotion, which I thought a little odd, until I saw the changed character of the husband; he dissipated in every way, and coming in
