CHAPTER XIII. Oh! for a curse upon the cunning priest, That galls me now. SOUTHERN'S Disappointment. A change in Peter's life ye must not hope: To try to wash an ass's face, Is really labour to misplace, And really loss of time as well as soap. Peter Pindar. Two years have passed away, a small item in the sum of life, but large enough to produce changes in the condition and fortunes of some of the parties who have figured in these pages. A young couple are seated at their morning meal in a little dingy back parlour in the city of London. The street is not one of the main arteries in the great metropolitan trunk, but an off branch connected immediately with a leading thoroughfare. The apartment opens into the shop in front, where sturdy industry continues during the live long day to ply his calling. Frugality is visible in the sitting-room and order reigns in the shop. In the former, the humble antique furniture shows that the expenses of modern cabinet work has not absorbed much of the owner's capital. A settle extends from the fire-place to the doorway, and two or three old-fashioned chairs are placed at intervals round the apartment, creaky, but sufficient for the purpose of accommodation. A few coloured prints are suspended from the wall commemorative of the famous equestrian exploits of John Gilpin, with here and there a portrait of some celebrated divine, whose demure face looks with pitying horror on the mad-cap rollicking of their neighbour's horse and rider. The occupants live in the centre of the richest and busiest city in the world, but they live alone, as much within themselves as if they resided in the steppes of Tartary. The countenance of the female, young and handsome, but strongly marked, has contracted a harsh unpleasant expression, that speaks unmistakeably of disappointed hopes; indicates a temper easily fired, and a soul little disposed to confine its vaulting ambition within confines so limited and to a life so monotonous. She is plainly attired. A loose morning wrapper, with head-gear that has seen better days, imparts an air of faded respectability to her person; while her husband, blooming in health and bland as a courtier, is disposed to listen with philosophic calmness to any bill of indictment, however long, in which his affectionate spouse may deem it proper to arraign him. The table at which the young couple are seated is scantily furnished, for the husband and an apprentice in the shop, in the spirit of thrift, have taken the commissariat department into their own hands. The former, at certain times, commands the boy to get his basket, and they sally forth to market in search of the economical, with a gusto hardly excelled by Dr. Syntax in search of the picturesque. When the larder rejoices in a joint, the selection has not always been made with exclusive reference to the richness of the meat. The taste of the wife has never been consulted, and to her is left the grateful task of gastronomic criticism, a duty for which she is admirably qualified by the severity of her judgment, if not by the largeness of her experience, and the loving husband affords her every inducement in his tenderness to his own pocket, for the exercise of that most powerful weapon in woman's armoury— the tongue. "And so the business increases daily, you tell me ?" "Yes, my love; it exceeds my expectations. In a few years we shall be independent, and won't we come out then?" "In the meantime, as your means increase, cannot you enlarge our comforts a little? Surely, a rasher of bacon, or a few water cresses to flavour this poor coffee, would not ruin a business that progresses so favourably ?" "Why, my love, you are naturally, like your family, inclined to corpulency, and to indulge in such dainties would really injure your health, and superinduce apoplexy. To lose you now, my dear, just as my fortunes are budding, would break my P heart. You must live sparingly, and enjoy the proud satisfaction of seeing me a great man, as one day I will be. Fate, that chalks out our destiny, whispers in my ear that I must rise in the world. Nothing can prevent me if you will assist me, love." "And so you cannot rise in the world without starving me! Silly girl that I have been; wretched child of infatuation, to listen to the cant of a fellow who crawled in the dust to gain my hand, and now returns my affection by this cold-blooded atrocity! O! I have been justly punished for disregarding the warnings I received about you. In a word, sir, I will not eat your cheap bargains. You may famish me by your stinginess, but you shall not poison me with your rubbish!” 1 "Well, my dear, if there is nothing in Middlesex that will suit so refined a palate as yours, I would seriously advise you-excuse the hint, but think of it-to send to Lancashire for the viands. They will be vastly improved by the three days' journey up!" Niggard! I shall write home and expose all your falsehood and fraud." 66 A knock was heard at the door which communicated with the shop. The boy told his master that a lady desired a word with him. A number of trunks and boxes were carried in from the street. After settling with the cabman, the porter, and the other hangers on that way-lay the traveller on alighting, the lady was led forward to the sitting-room, still encumbered with the heavy riding costume in which she had performed the journey. The female who took part in the above edifying dialogue rose, started, and rushed to meet the stranger. "My dear Matilda!" exclaimed the mistress of the hospitable mansion, "this is unlooked for happiness. I am indeed delighted to see you!" and kissing her with affectionate warmth, poor Mrs. Laurel, overcome by feelings of joy at the sight of her sister, and of shame at being found in quarters so unworthy the descendant of a Scotch baronet and the proprietor of large estates in the North, sobbed like a child on the bosom where she well knew sympathy in its fullest extent abounded. The meeting between the sisters was unexpected. For some time previously, there had been but little communication between them. The proud spirit of Mrs. Laurel revolted from disclosing her own and her husband's position to her friends. She felt deeply the systematic delusion of which she had been the victim, but, as in most similar instances, neither party was entirely faultless, for while the suitor had succeeded by a series of unblushing impositions in gaining her hand, and consoled his conscience in doing so with the trite but villainous axiom that in love and war any stratagem is allowable, the lady had, on her part, been guilty of some disingenuousness towards him in concealing the fact that nothing in the way of pecuniary aid was to be expected from Captain Carlos if she married |