sconced himself in the very
innermost recesses of the coal-hole, from which delightful retirement he
was dragged, after a long search, by his own maid, who had at last
awakened from the joys of gossiping and making believe to help in the
housekeeper's room, to the recollection that Lady Mary might possibly
inquire after her children. The state of his apparel and of her temper may
be more easily imagined than described. He, duke's grandson though he
were, looked like nothing better or worse than a chimney-sweeper. She
stormed like a fury. But as all the storming in the world would not
restore the young gentleman or his bridal suit to their pristine state of
cleanliness, she took wit in her anger and put him to bed, as a measure
partly of punishment, partly of concealment; the result of which was, that
he, the culprit, thoroughly tired with excitement and exercise, with play
and display, and well stuffed with dainties to keep him quiet, was
consigned to his comfortable bed, while we, pattern little girls, had to
undergo the penalty of making our appearance and our courtesies in the
drawing-room, among all the fine folks of _our_ Camacho's wedding, and to
stay there, weariest of the many weary, two or three hours beyond our
accustomed time. With so little justice are the rewards and punishments of
this world distributed--even in the nursery!

Married Poets.--Elizabeth Barrett Browning--Robert Browning.

Married poets! Charming words are these, significant of congenial gifts,
congenial labor, congenial tastes;--quick and sweet resources of mind and
of heart, a long future of happiness, live in those two words. And the
reality is as rare as it is charming. Married authors we have had of all
ages and of all countries; from the Daciers, standing stiff and stately
under their learning, as if it were a load, down to the Guizots, whose
story is so pretty, that it would sound like a romance to all who did not
know how often romance looks pale beside reality; from the ducal pair of
Newcastle, walking stately and stiff under their strawberry-leafed
coronets, to William and Mary Howitt, ornaments of a sect to whom coronets
are an abomination. Married authors have been plentiful as blackberries,
but married poets have been rare indeed! The last instance, too, was
rather a warning than an example. When Caroline Bowles changed her own
loved and honored name to become the wife of the great and good man Robert
Southey, all seemed