llow.

The scene over, Adrian reconducted Mrs. Doria to her home. Mice had
been at the cake during her absence apparently. The ladies and gentlemen
present put it on the greedy mice, who were accused of having gorged and
gone to bed.

"I'm sure they're quite welcome," said Mrs. Doria. "It's a farce, this
marriage, and Adrian has quite come to my way of thinking. I would not
touch an atom of it. Why, they were married in a married woman's ring!
Can that be legal, as you call it? Oh, I'm convinced! Don't tell me.
Austin will be in town to-morrow, and if he is true to his principles,
he will instantly adopt measures to rescue his son from infamy. I want
no legal advice. I go upon common sense, common decency. This marriage
is false."

Mrs. Doria's fine scheme had become so much a part of her life, that she
could not give it up. She took Clare to her bed, and caressed and wept
over her, as she would not have done had she known the singular child,
saying, "Poor Richard! my dear poor boy! we must save him, Clare! we
must save him!" Of the two the mother showed the greater want of iron on
this occasion. Clare lay in her arms rigid and emotionless, with one
of her hands tight-locked. All she said was: "I knew it in the morning,
mama." She slept clasping Richard's nuptial ring.

By this time all specially concerned in the System knew it. The
honeymoon was shoring placidly above them. Is not happiness like another
circulating medium? When we have a very great deal of it, some poor
hearts are aching for what is taken away from them. When we have gone
out and seized it on the highways, certain inscrutable laws are sure to
be at work to bring us to the criminal bar, sooner or later. Who knows
the honeymoon that did not steal somebody's sweetness? Richard Turpin
went forth, singing "Money or life" to the world: Richard Feverel
has done the same, substituting "Happiness" for "Money," frequently
synonyms. The coin he wanted he would have, and was just as much a
highway robber as his fellow Dick, so that those who have failed to
recognize him as a hero before, may now regard him in that light.
Meanwhile the world he has squeezed looks exceedingly patient and
beautiful. His coin chinks delicious music to him. Nature and the order
of things on earth have no warmer admirer than a jolly brigand or a
young man made happy by the Jews.

CHAPTER XXXIII

And now the author of the System was on trial under the eyes of the lady
who l