ry, and endure the
exhausting."

"For how long?"

"Till the next opportunity for effort; and as the prize of success will
be a treasure after my own heart, I'll bring a bull's strength to the
struggle."

"Bad luck crushes bulls as easily as bullaces; and, I believe, the fury
dogs you: you were born with a wooden spoon in your mouth, depend on
it."

"I believe you; sad I mean to make my wooden spoon do the work of some
people's silver ladles: grasped firmly, and handled nimbly, even a
wooden spoon will shovel up broth."

Hunsden rose: "I see," said he; "I suppose you're one of those who
develop best unwatched, and act best unaided-work your own way. Now,
I'll go." And, without another word, he was going; at the door he
turned:--

"Crimsworth Hall is sold," said he.

"Sold!" was my echo.

"Yes; you know, of course, that your brother failed three months ago?"

"What! Edward Crimsworth?"

"Precisely; and his wife went home to her fathers; when affairs went
awry, his temper sympathized with them; he used her ill; I told you he
would be a tyrant to her some day; as to him--"

"Ay, as to him--what is become of him?"

"Nothing extraordinary--don't be alarmed; he put himself under the
protection of the court, compounded with his creditors--tenpence in
the pound; in six weeks set up again, coaxed back his wife, and is
flourishing like a green bay-tree."

"And Crimsworth Hall--was the furniture sold too?"

"Everything--from the grand piano down to the rolling-pin."

"And the contents of the oak dining-room--were they sold?"

"Of course; why should the sofas and chairs of that room be held more
sacred than those of any other?"

"And the pictures?"

"What pictures? Crimsworth had no special collection that I know of--he
did not profess to be an amateur."

"There were two portraits, one on each side the mantelpiece; you cannot
have forgotten them, Mr. Hunsden; you once noticed that of the lady--"

"Oh, I know! the thin-faced gentlewoman with a shawl put on like
drapery.--Why, as a matter of course, it would be sold among the other
things. If you had been rich, you might have bought it, for I remember
you said it represented your mother: you see what it is to be without a
sou."

I did. "But surely," I thought to myself, "I shall not always be so
poverty-stricken; I may one day buy it back yet.--Who purchased it? do
you know?" I asked.

"How is it likely? I never inquired who purchased anything; there spo