have as good a right here as you, at all events.
I shall stay, Miss.

CLEM. (_rising_.) Stay then--but I shall not. Oh, Edward! Edward!
[_Exit, weeping_.]

JEL. (_alone_.) Well, I really thought I should have burst--to be
forced not to allow people to suppose that I cared, when I should like
to tear the old wretch out of his coffin to beat him. _His_ wardrobe!
If people knew his wardrobe as well as I do, who have been patching at
it these last ten years--not a shirt or a stocking that would fetch
sixpence! And as for his other garments, why a Jew would hardly put
them into his bag! (_Crying_.) Oh dear! oh dear! After all, I'm just
like Miss Clementina; for Sergeant O'Callaghan, when he knows all this,
will as surely walk off without beat of drum, as did Mr Edward--and
that too with all the money I have lent him. Oh these men! these men!--
whether they are living or dying there is nothing in them but treachery
and disappointment! When they pretend to be in love, they only are
trying for your money; and even when they make their wills, they leave
to those behind them nothing but _ill-will_.

[_Exit, crying, off the stage as the curtain falls_.]

CHAPTER FORTY FOUR.

THE SKY-BLUE DOMINO.

It was a flue autumnal evening; I had been walking with a friend until
dusk on the Piazza Grande, or principal square in the town of Lucca. We
had been conversing of England, our own country, from which I had then
banished myself for nearly four years, having taken up my residence in
Italy to fortify a weak constitution, and having remained there long
after it was requisite for my health from an attachment to its pure sky,
and the _dolce far niente_ which so wins upon you in that luxurious
climate. We had communicated to each other the contents of our
respective letters arrived by the last mail; had talked over politics,
great men, acquaintances, friends and kindred; and, tired of
conversation, had both sank into a pleasing reverie as we watched the
stars twinkling above us, when my friend rose hastily and bid me good
night.

"Where are you going, Albert?" inquired I.

"I had nearly forgotten I had an appointment this evening. I promised
to meet somebody at the Marquesa di Cesto's masquerade."

"Pshaw! are you not tired of these things?" replied I; "that eternal
round of black masks and dominos of all colours; heavy harlequins, fools
and clowns by nature wearing their proper dresses there,