g from love's mad fever, and,
of course, under these circumstances, proceeded to leave her, and to
quit a heartless deceiver: that a name which had one day been famous in
the land, might again be heard in it: and, that though he never should
be the happy and careless boy he was but a few months since, or his
heart be what it had been ere passion had filled it and grief had
well-nigh killed it; that though to him personally death was as welcome
as life, and that he would not hesitate to part with the latter, but for
the love of one kind being whose happiness depended on his own,--yet
he hoped to show he was a man worthy of his race, and that one day the
false one should be brought to know how great was the treasure and noble
the heart which she had flung away.

Pen, we say, who was a very excitable person, rolled out these verses in
his rich sweet voice, which trembled with emotion whilst our young poet
spoke. He had a trick of blushing when in this excited state, and his
large and honest grey eyes also exhibited proofs of a sensibility so
genuine, hearty, and manly, that Miss Costigan, if she had a heart, must
needs have softened towards him; and very likely she was, as he said,
altogether unworthy of the affection which he lavished upon her.

The sentimental Smirke was caught by the emotion which agitated
his young friend. He grasped Pen's hand over the dessert dishes and
wine-glasses. He said the verses were beautiful: that Pen was a poet, a
great poet, and likely by Heaven's permission to run a great career in
the world. "Go on and prosper, dear Arthur," he cried; "the wounds under
which at present you suffer are only temporary, and the very grief you
endure will cleanse and strengthen your heart. I have always prophesied
the greatest and brightest things of you, as soon as you have corrected
some failings and weaknesses of character, which at present belong to
you. But you will get over these, my boy; you will get over these; and
when you are famous and celebrated, as I know you will be, will you
remember your old tutor and the happy early days of your youth?"

Pen swore he would: with another shake of the hand across the glasses
and apricots. "I shall never forget how kind you have been to me,
Smirke," he said. "I don't know what I should have done without you. You
are my best friend."

"Am I, really, Arthur?" said Smirke, looking through his spectacles;
and his heart began to beat so that he thought Pen must al