mine. But I reminded him, that I
had still a balance at my banker's; and I told him besides that I had
made up my mind to enter the regiment from which I had been so
unceremoniously dismissed, or none. He stared. "If," said I, "I shall
not be commissioned in the Coldstream, it will be utterly beyond my
power to persuade even my own relatives, much less the world, that I
have not been dismissed for some act of impropriety. Or, if men will not
hazard saying this to my face, they will only be more likely to say it
where I cannot defend myself."

"True!" said Mordecai, as if the opinion had cast a new light on him.
"Perfectly to the point. This is a world of scandal; and, like the
wolves, the whole pack fall on the wounded. You must recover your
commission in the Coldstream; or be ready to tell your story every day
of your life, and be only half believed after all. Yes, you must enter
that very corps, or be sneered at as long as you live; and if you have a
heart to be stung, it will be stung. Our people know that well."

"I should give my last shilling to be carrying its colours at this
moment," said I, "but unfortunately money is useless there. The Guards
are the favourite of royalty, and their commissions naturally go to men
of rank and fortune."

"We must go to town and see what is to be done. When will you be ready?"
asked my host.

"To-night--this moment--if possible, I should set out."

"No, no, Mr Marston, my movements cannot be quite so expeditious. I must
wait for my London letters in the morning. On their arrival we may
start, and, by taking four horses, reach town before the Horse Guards
closes for the day."

At breakfast next morning Mariamne was not to be seen: she excused
herself by a violent headach; and by the countenance of her Abigail,
generally a tolerable reflexion of the temper of the female authority of
a house, it was evident that I had fallen into disfavour. But how was
this to be accounted for? Mordecai, from the lateness of the hour at
which we parted, could not have seen her; even if she should condescend
to take my matrimonial chillness as an offence. But the mystery was
soon, cleared by her answer to the note which contained my farewell. It
was simply the enclosure of a few hapless lines of verse, in which the
name of Clotilde occurred, and which had been found in the clearance of
my chamber preparatory to my journey. This was decisive. Mariamne was a
sovereign, who, choose as she might