hink, mind you, Pen, I should think, but of course I have
only the idea, that there has been something in Clavering's previous
life which gives these fellows and some others a certain power over him;
and if there should be no such a secret, which affair of ours, my boy,
dammy, I say, it ought to be a lesson to a man to keep himself straight
in life, and not to give any man a chance over him."

"Why, I think you have some means of persuasion over Clavering, uncle,
or why should he give me that seat in Parlament?"

"Clavering thinks he ain't fit for Parliament," the Major answered. "No
more he is. What's to prevent him from putting you or anybody else into
his place if he likes? Do you think that vernment or the Opposition
would make any bones about accepting the seat if he offered it to
them! Why should you be more squeamish than the first men, and the
most honourable men, and men of the highest birth and position in the
country, begad?" The Major had an answer of this kind to most of Pen's
objections, and Pen accepted his uncle's replies, not so much because
he believed them, but because he wished to believe them. We do a
thing--which of us has not?--not because "everybody does it," but
because we like it; and our acquiescence, alas! proves not that
everybody is right, but that we and the rest of the world are poor
creatures alike.

At his next visit to Tunbridge, Mr. Pen did not forget to amuse Miss
Blanche with the history which he had learned at Richmond of the
Chevalier's imprisonment, and of Altamont's gallant rescue. And after he
had told his tale in his usual satirical way, he mentioned with praise
and emotion little Fanny's generous behaviour to the Chevalier, and
Altamont's enthusiasm in her behalf.

Miss Blanche was somewhat jealous, and a good deal piqued and curious
about Fanny. Among the many confidential little communications which
Arthur made to Miss Amory in the course of their delightful rural drives
and their sweet evening walks, it may be supposed that our hero would
not forget a story so interesting to himself and so likely to be
interesting to her, as that of the passion and cure of the poor little
Ariadne of Shepherd's Inn. His own part in that drama he described, to
do him justice, with becoming modesty; the moral which he wished to draw
from the tale being one in accordance with his usual satirical mood,
viz., that women get over their first loves quite as easily as men do
(for the fair Blanc