as English air could make her."

What a wonderful thing it is when a man finds himself married, all the
excitement of the chase over. Let all Jones' and Laura's and persons
about to marry see well that they are really in love before they take the
final plunge. But hear that big party behind in a Hansom, using most
improper language. Take it easy, my dear sir, you may catch the Dover
train, you may cross to Calais, you may rush on to Paris, but the
electric telegraph has already told your crime, and described your
person. Therefore be calm, there is no police officer dogging you, you
are free for a few hours yet. And now come our sleek city men, to
Clapham and Norwood, to dine greatly in their pleasant homes. The world
goes well with them, and indeed it ought, for they are honest as the
times go: are they slightly impatient, we cannot wonder at it, the salmon
may be overboiled, just because of that infernal old coster's cart.
Hurra! it moves, and away go busses, and carriages, and broughams, and
hansoms, and a thousand of Her Majesty's subjects, rich and poor, old and
young, saint and sinner, are in a good temper again, and cease to break
the commandments. Stand here of a morning while London yet slumbers;
what waggons and carts laden with provisions from the rich gardens of
Surrey and Kent, come over London Bridge. Later, see how the clerks, and
shopmen, and shopwomen, hurry. Later still, and what trains full of
stockbrokers, and commission agents, and city merchants, from a circle
extending as far as Brighton, daily are landed at the London Bridge
Stations, and cross over. Later still, and what crowds of ladies from
the suburbs come shopping, or to visit London exhibitions. If we were
inclined to be uncharitable, we might question some of these fair dames;
I dare say people connected with the divorce courts might insinuate very
unpleasant things respecting some of them; but let us hope that they are
the exception, and that if Mrs. C. meets some one at the West End who is
not Captain C., and that if the Captain dines with a gay party at Hampton
Court, when he has informed his wife that business will detain him in
town; or that if that beauty now driving past in a brougham has no
business to be there, that these sickly sheep do not infect the flock,
and, in the language of good Dr. Watts, poison all the rest. Yet there
are tales of sin and sorrow connected with London Bridge. Over its stony
parapets, down int