e day they
should accompany his person whithersoever he went. Next he bethought
himself of the two or three important papers to which Mr. Gammon had
referred; and, with tremulous eagerness, read them over once or twice,
but without being able to extract from them the slightest clew to their
real character and bearing. Then he folded them up in a half sheet of
writing-paper, which he proceeded to stitch carefully beneath the lining
of his waistcoat; after which he blew out his slim candle, and with a
heavy sigh got into bed. For some moments after he had blown out the
candle did the image of it remain on his aching and excited retina; and
just so long did the thoughts of _ten thousand a-year_ dwell on his
fancy, fading, however, quickly away amid the thickening gloom of
doubts, and fears, and miseries, which oppressed him. There he lies,
stretched on his bed, a wretched figure, lying on his breast, his head
buried beneath his feverish arms. Anon, he turns round upon his back,
stretches his wearied limbs to their uttermost, folds his arms on his
breast, then buries them beneath the pillow, under his head. Now he
turns on his right side, then on his left--presently he starts up, and
with muttered curse shakes his little pillow, flinging it down angrily.
He cannot sleep--he cannot rest--he cannot keep still. Bursting with
irritability, he gets out of bed, and steps to the window, which opening
wide, a slight gush of fresh air cools his hot face for a moment or two.
His wearied eye looks upward and beholds the moon shining overhead in
cold splendor, turning the clouds to gold as they flit past her, and
shedding a softened lustre upon the tiled roofs and irregular
chimney-pots--the only objects visible to him. No sound is heard, but
occasionally the dismal cry of disappointed cat, the querulous voice of
the watchman, and the echo of the rumbling hubbub of Oxford Street. O
miserable Titmouse! of what avail is it for thee thus to fix thy
sorrowful lack-lustre eye upon the cold Queen of Night!

* * * * *

At that moment there happened to be also gazing at the same glorious
object, but at some two hundred miles' distance from London, a very
different person, with very different feelings, and in very different
circumstances. It was one of the angels of the earth--a pure-hearted and
very beautiful girl; who, after a day of peaceful, innocent, and
charitable employment, and having just quitted the pia