recurs to me, whenever my memory goes back to the night
of that miserable evening party, with all its attendant scenes and
circumstances; and, I hate it!

Two bars of it whistled now, no matter where I heard them, or in what
company I might chance to be, would bring me mentally face to face with
my misery again!

O Min, Min!

She never knew how I loved her, or she would never have rejected me like
this!

This was my consolation--ample, wasn't it?

CHAPTER SEVEN.

HER LETTER.

Ay de mi! Un anno felice,
Parece un soplo ligero:
Pero sin dicha un instante,
Es un siglo de tormente.

"--And with mine eyes
I'll drink the words you send, though ink be made of gall!"

It was broad daylight when I got home.

I did not go to bed; but, passed the weary morning hours in walking up
and down my room, chewing the bitter cud of hopeless fancy, and in a
state of excitement almost approaching to madness.

At last, the time arrived for me to start to town to my office.

"Hey, humph! what is the matter, Mr Lorton?"--growled old Smudge to me,
as I proceeded to sign the attendance book before the fatal black line
was drawn against the late comers--"Look ill, look ill! hey? Late
hours, late hours, young man, young man; dissipation, and all the rest
of it, hey? _I_ know how it will end--same as the rest, same as the
rest!"--and he chuckled to himself over some blue book in his corner, as
if he had, in the most merry and unbending mood, "passed the time of
day" with singular bonhomie!

I only gave him a gruff good-morning, however. I walked listlessly to
my desk, where he presently also came, to take me to task about some
account I had checked--so as to tone down any presumptuous feelings I
might have in consequence of his graciousness:--the "balance" was, thus,
"pretty square" between us.

I never found the office-work so tedious, my fellow-clerks so wearisome,
nor the whole round of civil service life so dreadfully "flat, stale,
and unprofitable," as on that miserable day after the party!

The day seemed as if it would never come to an end.

The wretched hours lengthened themselves out, with such indiarubber-like
elasticity, that, the interval between ten and four appeared a cycle of
centuries!

I was longing to be free, in order to carry out a determination to which
I had come.

I had resolved to see Mrs Clyde and plead my cause again with her; for,
I had observed from Min's manner, that it was n