of marriage among the pleasant lakes
and hills of Westmoreland and Cumberland, wandering together, in
delightful interchange of thought, from glen to glen, from tairn to
tairn, all about Ambleside, Helvellyn, and Lodore, Ullswater,
Saddleback, and Schiddaw. Maria's ever-flickering smile seemed to throw
a sun-beam over the darkest moor, even in those darkest hours of doubt,
heart-sickening anxiety, and grief at the neglect which they
experienced; while Henry's well-informed good sense not only availed to
cheer the sad Maria, but made every rock a point of interest, and showed
every little flower a miracle of wisdom. There were hundreds of
extemporaneous "lover's seats," where they had "rested, to be thankful"
for the past, joyful for the present, and hopeful for the future; and
every ramble that they took might deservedly take the name, style, and
title of a "lover's walk!" Happy times--happy times! but still there
might be happier; yes, and happiest, too, they seemed to whisper, if
ever they should have a merry little nursery of prattling boys and
girls! But I am not so entirely in the confidence of those young folks
as to be certain about what they seemed to whisper: in that pretty
prattling sentence were they not getting a little beyond the honey-moon?
Yes--yes, young Hymen is too full of new-found pleasure to heed those
holier joys of calm old marriage; for wedded love is as a coil of line,
lengthening with the lapse of years, fitted and intended, day after day,
to be continually sounding a lower and a lower deep in the ocean of
happiness.

Returned to town, it was the immediate care of our fond, confused, and
unfortunate young couple to call at the old house in Finsbury square;
where, to their great dismay and misery, they encountered a formal
standing order for their non-admission. The domestics were new, had been
strictly warned against the name of Clements, and, in effect, were
creatures of the worthy John. It was a deplorable business; they did not
know what to think, nor how to act. Letters left at the door, couched in
whatever terms of humility, kindliness, and just excuse, were equally
unavailing; for the Cerberus there was too well sopped by pleasant
brother John ever to deliver them to any one but him. It was entirely
hopeless--extraordinary--a most wretched state of things. What were they
to do? The only practicable mode of getting at Sir Thomas, and,
therefore, at some explanation of these mysteries, was