said, in the spirit-world,
meaning the tender Indiana, the passionate and poetic Lelia, the amiable
Trenmor, that high-souled convict, that angel of the galleys,--the fiery
Stenio,--and the other numberless heroes of the French romances. She had
been in love with Prince Rodolph and Prince Djalma while she was yet at
school, and had settled the divorce question, and the rights of woman,
with Indiana, before she had left off pinafores. The impetuous little
lady played at love with these imaginary worthies as a little while
before she had played at maternity with her doll. Pretty little poetical
spirits! It is curious to watch them with those playthings. To-day the
blue-eyed one is the favourite, and the black-eyed one is pushed behind
the drawers. To-morrow blue-eyes may take its turn of neglect and it may
be an odious little wretch with a burnt nose, or torn bead of hair, and
no eyes at all, that takes the first place in Miss's affection, and is
dandled and caressed in her arms.

As novelists are supposed to know everything, even the secrets of female
hearts, which the owners themselves do not perhaps know, we may state
that at eleven years of age Mademoiselle Betsi, as Miss Amory was then
called, had felt tender emotions towards a young Savoyard organ-grinder
at Paris, whom she Persisted in believing to be a prince carried off
from his parents; that at twelve an old and hideous drawing-master (but,
ah, what age or personal defects are proof against woman's love?) had
agitated her young heart; and that, at thirteen, being at Madame de
Caramel's boarding-school, in the Champs Elysees, which, as everybody
knows, is next door to Monsieur Rogron's (Chevalier of the Legion of
Honour) pension for young gentlemen, a correspondence by letter took
place between the seduisante Miss Betsi and two young gentlemen of the
College of Charlemagne, who were pensioners of the Chevalier Rogron.

In the above paragraph our young friend has been called by a Christian
name different to that under which we were lately presented to her. The
fact is, that Miss Amory, called Missy at home, had really at the first
been christened Betsy--but assumed the name of Blanche of her own will
and fantasy, and crowned herself with it; and the weapon which the
Baronet, her stepfather, held in terror over her, was the threat to call
her publicly by her name of Betsy, by which menace he sometimes managed
to keep the young rebel in order.

We have spoken jus