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pollution. She knows she has darkened the lot and made wretched the home of the man whom she loves best; that his friends who see her, treat her with but a doubtful respect; and the domestics who attend her, with a suspicious obedience. In the country lanes, or the streets of the county town, neighbours look aside as the carriage passes in which she sits splendid and lonely. Rough hunting companions of her husband's come to her table: he is driven perforce to the company of flatterers and men of inferior sort; his equals, at least in his own home, will not live with him. She would be kind, perhaps, and charita able to the cottagers round about her, but she fears to visit them lest they too should scorn her. The clergyman who distributes her charities, blushes and looks awkward on passing her in the village, if he should be walking with his wife or one of his children. Shall they go to the Continent, and set up a grand house at Paris or at Florence? There they can get society, but of what a sort! Our acquaintances of Baden-Madame Schlangenbad, and Madame de Cruchecassée, and Madame d'Ivry, and Messrs. Loder, and Punter, and Blackball, and Deuceace, will come and dance, and flirt, and quarrel, and gamble, and feast round about her; but what in common with such wild people has this poor, timid, shrinking soul ? Even these scorn her. The leers and laughter on those painted faces are quite unlike her own sad countenance. She has no reply to their wit. Their infernal gaiety scares her more than the solitude at home. No wonder that her husband does not like home, except for a short while in the hunting season. No wonder that he is away all day; how can he like a home which she has made so wretched ? In the midst of her sorrow, and doubt, and misery, a child comes to her : how she clings to it! how her whole being, and hope, and passion centres itself on this feeble infant!... but she no more belongs to our story: with the new name she has taken, the poor lady passes out of the history of the Newcomes.

If Barnes Newcome's children meet yonder solitary lady, do they know her? If her once-husband thinks upon the unhappy young creature whom his cruelty drove from him, does his conscience affect his sleep at night ? Why should Sir Barnes Newcome's conscience be more squeamish than his country's, which has put money in his pocket for having trampled on the poor weak young thing, and scorned her, and driven her to ruin? When the whole of the accounts of that wretched bankruptcy are brought up for final Audit, which of the unhappy partners shall be shown to be most guilty? Does the Right Reverend Prelate who did the benedictory business for Barnes and Clara his wife. repent in secret? Do the parenta who pressed the marriage, and the fine folks who signed the book, and ate the breakfast, and applauded the bridegroom's speech, feel a little ashamed? O Hymen Hymenæe! The bishops, beadles, clergy, pew-openers, and other officers of the temple dedicated to Heaven under the invocation of St. George, will officiate in the same place at scores and scores more of such marriages: and St. George of England may behold virgin after virgin offered up to the devouring monster, Mammon (with many most respectable female dragons looking on)-may see virgin after virgin given away, just as in the Soldan of Babylon's time, but with never a champion to come to the rescue!


IN WHICH ACHILLES LOSES BRISEIS. ALTHOUGH the years of the Marquis of Farintosh were few, he ni had spent most of them in the habit of command; and from his childhood upwards, had been obeyed by all persons round about him. As an infant he had but to roar, and his mother and nurses were as much frightened as though he had been a Libyan lion. What he willed and ordered was law amongst his clan and family. During the period of his London and Parisian dissipations his poor mother did not venture to remonstrate with her young prodigal, but shut her eyes, not daring to open them on his wild courses. As for the friends of his person and house, many of whom were portly elderly gentlemen, their affection for the young Marquis was so extreme that there was no company into which their fidelity would not lead them to follow him; and you might see him dancing at Mabille with veteran aides-de-camp looking on, or disporting with opera-dancers at a Trois Frères banquet, which some old gentleman of his father's age had taken the pains to order. If his lordship Count Almaviva wants a friend to carry the lanthorn or to hold the ladder, do you suppose there are not many most respectable men in society who will act Figaro? When Farintosh thought fit, in the fulness of time and the blooring pride of manhood, to select a spouse, and to elevate a marchioness to his throne, no one dared gainsay him. When he called upon his mother and sisters, and their ladyships' hangers-on and attendants; upon his own particular kinsmen, led-captains, and toadies; to bow the knee and do homage to the woman whom he delighted to honour, those duteous subjects trembled and obeyed; in fact, he thought that the position of a Marchioness of Farintosh was under heaven, and before men, so splendid, that, had he elevated a beggar-maid to that sublime rank, the inferior world was bound to worship her.

So my lord's lady-mother, and my lord's sisters, and his captains, and his players of billiards, and the toadies of his august person, all performed obeisance to his bride-elect, and never questioned the will of the young chieftain.: What were the private comments of the ladies of the family we had no means of knowing; but it may naturally be supposed that his lordship’s gentlemen-in-waiting, Captain Henchman, Jack Todhunter, and the rest, had many misgivings of their own respecting their patron's change in life, and could not view without anxiety the advent of a mistress who might reign over him and them, who might possibly not like their company, and might exert her influence over her husband to oust these honest fellows from places in which they were very comfortable. The jovial rogues had the run of my lord's kitchen, stables, cellars, and cigar-boxes. A new marchioness might hate hunting, smoking, jolly parties, and toad-eaters in general, or might bring into the house favourites of her own. I am sure any kind-hearted man of the world must feel for the position of these faithful, doubtful, disconsolate vassals, and have a sympathy for their rueful looks and demeanour as they eye the splendid preparations for the ensuing marriage, the grand furniture sent to my lord's castles and houses, the magnificent plate provided for his tables tables at which they may never have a knife and fork; castles and houses of which the poor rogues may never be allowed to pass the doors.

When, then, “The Elopement in High Life," which has been described in the previous pages, burst upon the town in the morning papers, I can fancy the agitation which the news occasioned in the faithful bosoms of the generous Todhunter and the attached Henchman. My lord was not in his own house as yet. He and his friends still lingered on in the little house in May Fair, the dear little bachelor's quarters, where they had enjoyed such good dinners, such good suppers, such rare doings, such a jolly time. I fancy Hench coming down to breakfast and reading the Morning Post. I imagine Tod dropping in from his bed-room over the way, and Hench handing the paper over to Tod, and the conversation which ensued between those worthy men. “Elopement in high life-excitement in N-come, and fight of Lady Cl-N-come, daughter of the late and sister of the present Earl of D-rking, with Lord H-gate; personal rencontre between Lord H-gate and Sir B-nes N-come. Extraordinary disclosures.** I say, I can fancy Hench and Tod over this awful piece of news.

“Pretty news, ain't it, Toddy?” says Henchman, looking up from a Périgord pie, which the faithful creature is discussing.

“ Always expected it," remarks the other. “Anybody who saw them together last season must have known it. The Chief himself spoke of it to me."

“It'll cut him up awfully when he reads it. Is it in the Morning Post? He has the Post in his bed-room. I know he has rung his bell: I heard it. Bowman, has his lordship read his paper yet?”.

Bowman, the valet, said, “ I believe you, he have read his paper. When he read it, he jumped out of bed and swore most awful. I cut as soon as I could," continued Mr. Bowman, who was on familiarnay, contemptuous terms with the other two gentlemen.

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"Enough to make any man swear," says Toddy to Henchman; and both were alarmed in their noble souls, reflecting that their chieftain was now actually getting up and dressing himself; that he would speedily, and in the course of nature, come downstairs; and then, most probably, would begin swearing at them.

The most noble Mungo Malcolm Angus was in an awful state of mind, when at length he appeared in the breakfast-room. “Why the dash do you make a tap-room of this ?” he cries. The trembling Henchman, who has begun to smoke-as he has done a hundred times before in this bachelor's hall-flings his cigar into the fire.

“There you go-nothing like it! Why don't you fling some more in? You can get 'em at Hudson's for five guineas a pound," bursts out the youthful peer.

“I understand why you are out of sorts, old boy," says Henchman, stretching out his manly hand. A tear of compassion twinkled in his eyelid, and coursed down his mottled cheek. “Cut away at old Frank, Farintosh,-a fellow who has been attached to you since before you could speak. It's not when a fellow's down and cut up, and riled-naturally riled-as you are, -I know you are, Marquis; it's not then that I'm going to be angry with you. Pitch into old Frank Henchman-hit away, my young one." And Frank put himself into an attitude as of one prepared to receive a pugilistic assault. He bared his breast, as it were, and showed his scars, and said, “ Strike!” Frank Henchman was a florid toady. My uncle, Major Pendennis, has often laughed with me about the fellow's pompous flatteries and ebullient fidelity.

“You have read this confounded paragraph." says the Marquis.

“We have read it: and were deucedly cut up, too," says Henchman, "for your sake, my dear boy."

“I remembered what you said last year, Marquis,” cries Todhunter (not unadroitly). “You yourself pointed out, in this very room, I recollect, at this very table--that night Coralie and the little Spanish dancer and her mother supped here, and there was a talk about Highgate-you yourself pointed out what was likely to happen. I doubted it ; for I have dined at the Newcomes', and seen Highgate and her together in society often. But though you are a younger bird, you have better eyes than I have--and you saw the thing at once-at once, don't you remember? and Coralie said how glad she was, because Sir Barnes ill-treated her friend. What was the name of Coralie's friend, Hench?”

“How should I know her confounded name?” Henchman briskly answers. “What do I care for Sir Barnes Newcome and his private affairs? He is no friend of mine. I never said he was a friend of mine. I never said I liked him. Out of respect for the Chief here, L.

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