idea smiling on
him. And it was only last Tuesday that his love was stabbed and slain,
and he not only had left off mourning for her, but had forgotten her!

"You will come and walk with me a little?" she said. "Or would you like
the music best? I dare say you will like the music best."

"You know," said Harry, "I don't care about any music much, except"--he
was thinking of the evening hymn--"except of your playing." He turned
very red again as he spoke, he felt he was perjuring himself horribly.

The poor lady was agitated herself by the flutter and agitation which
she saw in her young companion. Gracious Heaven! Could that tremor
and excitement mean that she was mistaken, and that the lad was still
faithful? "Give me your arm, and let us take a little walk," she said,
waving round a curtsey to the other two gentlemen: "my aunt is asleep
after her dinner." Harry could not but offer the arm, and press the hand
that lay against his heart. Maria made another fine curtsey to Harry's
bowing companions, and walked off with her prize. In her griefs, in
her rages, in the pains and anguish of wrong and desertion, how a woman
remembers to smile, curtsey, caress, dissemble! How resolutely they
discharge the social proprieties; how they have a word, or a hand, or
a kind little speech or reply for the passing acquaintance who crosses
unknowing the path of the tragedy, drops a light airy remark or two
(happy self-satisfied rogue!) and passes on. He passes on, and thinks
that woman was rather pleased with what I said. "That joke I made was
rather neat. I do really think Lady Maria looks rather favourably at me,
and she's a dev'lish fine woman, begad she is!" O you wiseacre! Such was
Jack Morris's observation and case as he walked away leaning on the arm
of his noble friend, and thinking the whole Society of the Wells was
looking at him. He had made some exquisite remarks about a particular
run of cards at Lady Flushington's the night before, and Lady Maria had
replied graciously and neatly, and so away went Jack perfectly happy.

The absurd creature! I declare we know nothing of anybody (but that for
my part I know better and better every day). You enter smiling to see
your new acquaintance, Mrs. A. and her charming family. You make your
bow in the elegant drawing-room of Mr. and Mrs. B.? I tell you that in
your course through life you are for ever putting your great clumsy foot
upon the mute invisible wounds of bleeding tragedies