embarked on it should survive it. What a talent she
must have had for weeping to be able to pour out so many of Mes Larmes!

They were not particularly briny, Miss Blanche's tears, that is the
truth; but Pen, who read her verses, thought them very well for a
lady--and wrote some verses himself for her. His were very violent and
passionate, very hot, sweet and strong: and he not only wrote verses;
but--O the villain! O, the deceiver! he altered and adapted former
poems in his possession, and which had been composed for a certain
Emily Fotheringay, for the use and to the Christian name of Miss Blanche
Amory.

CHAPTER XXIV. A Little Innocent

Every house has its skeleton in it somewhere, and it may be a comfort to
some unhappy folks to think that the luckier and most wealthy of their
neighbours have their miseries and causes of disquiet. Our little
innocent Muse of Blanche, who sang so nicely and talked so sweetly, you
would have thought she must have made sunshine where ever she went, was
the skeleton, or the misery, or the bore, or the Nemesis of Clavering
House, and of most of the inhabitants thereof. As one little stone in
your own shoe or your horse's, suffices to put either to torture and to
make your journey miserable, so in life a little obstacle is sufficient
to obstruct your entire progress, and subject you to endless annoyance
and disquiet. Who would have guessed that such a smiling little fairy as
Blanche Amory could be the cause of discord in any family?

"I say, Strong," one day the Baronet said, as the pair were conversing
after dinner over the billiard-table, and that great unbosomer of
secrets, a cigar; "I say, Strong, I wish to the doose your wife was
dead."

"So do I. That's a cannon, by Jove. But she won't; she'll live for
ever--you see if she don't. Why do you wish her off the hooks, Frank, my
boy?" asked Captain Strong.

"Because then you might marry Missy. She ain't bad-looking. She'll have
ten thousand, and that's a good bit of money for such a poor old devil
as you," drawled out the other gentleman.

"And gad, Strong, I hate her worse and worse every day. I can't stand
her, Strong, by gad, I can't."

"I wouldn't take her at twice the figure," Captain Strong said,
laughing. "I never saw such a little devil in my life."

"I should like to poison her," said the sententious Baronet; "by Jove I
should."

"Why, what has she been at now?" asked his friend.

"Nothing particular," ans