anly,
selfish, effectual system, where she answers to the whistle and comes in
at "Down Charge;" and knows her master; and frisks and fawns about him;
and nuzzles at his knees; and "licks the hand that's raised"--that's
raised to do her good, as (I quote from memory) Mr. Pope finely
observes. What used the late lamented O'Connell to say, over whom a
grateful country has raised such a magnificent testimonial? "Hereditary
bondsmen," he used to remark, "know ye not, who would be free,
themselves must strike the blow?" Of course you must, in political as in
domestic circles. So up with your cudgels, my enslaved, injured boys!

Women will be pleased with these remarks, because they have such a taste
for humour and understand irony; and I should not be surprised if young
Grubstreet, who corresponds with three penny papers and describes the
persons and conversation of gentlemen whom he meets at his "clubs,"
will say, "I told you so! He advocates the thrashing of women! He has
no nobility of soul! He has no heart!" Nor have I, my eminent young
Grubstreet! any more than you have ears. Dear ladies! I assure you I am
only joking in the above remarks,--I do not advocate the thrashing of
your sex at all,--and, as you can't understand the commonest bit of fun,
beg leave flatly to tell you, that I consider your sex a hundred times
more loving and faithful than ours.

So, what is the use of Hetty's parents taking her home, if the little
maid intends to be just as fond of Harry absent as of Harry present?
Why not let her see him before Ball and Dobbin are put to, and say,
"Good-bye, Harry! I was very wilful and fractious last night, and you
were very kind: but good-bye, Harry!" She will show no special emotion:
she is so ashamed of her secret, that she will not betray it. Harry is
too much preoccupied to discover it for himself. He does not know what
grief is lying behind Hetty's glances, or hidden under the artifice of
her innocent young smiles. He has, perhaps, a care of his own. He will
part from her calmly, and fancy she is happy to get back to her music
and her poultry and her flower-garden.

He did not even ride part of the way homewards by the side of his
friend's carriage. He had some other party arranged for, that afternoon,
and when he returned thence, the good Lamberts were gone from Tunbridge
Wells. There were their windows open, and the card in one of them
signifying that the apartments were once more to let. A little pas