, only his whiskers was black, and Mr. P.'s is red."

"Law, ma! they are a most beautiful hawburn," Fanny said.

"He used to come for Emly Budd, who danced Columbine in 'Arleykin
Ornpipe, or the Battle of Navarino,' when Miss De la Bosky was took
ill--a pretty dancer, and a fine stage figure of a woman--and he was a
great sugar-baker in the city, with a country ouse at Omerton; and he
used to drive her in the tilbry down Goswell Street Road; and one day
they drove and was married at St. Bartholomew's Church, Smithfield,
where they ad their bands read quite private; and she now keeps
her carriage, and I sor her name in the paper as patroness of the
Manshing-House Ball for the Washywomen's Asylum. And look at Lady
Mirabel--capting Costigan's daughter--she was profeshnl, as all very
well know." Thus, and more to this purpose, Mrs. Bolton spoke, now
peeping through the window-curtain, now cleaning the mugs and plates,
and consigning them to their place in the corner cupboard; and finishing
her speech as she and Fanny shook out and folded up the dinner-cloth
between them, and restored it to its drawer in the table.

Although Costigan had once before been made pretty accurately to
understand what Pen's pecuniary means and expectations were, I suppose
Cos had forgotten the information acquired at Chatteris years ago, or
had been induced by his natural enthusiasm to exaggerate his friend's
income. He had described Fairoaks Park in the most glowing terms to
Mrs. Bolton, on the preceding evening, as he was walking about with her
during Pen's little escapade with Fanny, had dilated upon the enormous
wealth of Pen's famous uncle, the Major, and shown an intimate
acquaintance with Arthur's funded and landed property. Very likely Mrs.
Bolton, in her wisdom, had speculated upon these matters during the
night; and had had visions of Fanny driving in her carriage, like Mrs.
Bolton's old comrade, the dancer of Sadler's Wells.

In the last operation of table-cloth folding, these two foolish women,
of necessity, came close together; and as Fanny took the cloth and gave
it the last fold, her mother put her finger under the young girl's chin,
and kissed her. Again the red signal flew out, and fluttered on Fanny's
cheek. What did it mean? It was not alarm this time. It was pleasure
which caused the poor little Fanny to blush so. Poor little Fanny! What?
is love sin? that it is so pleasant at the beginning, and so bitter at
the end?

Afte