gh neither spoke of.

And so Laura, with a sigh, was obliged to confess that the romantic part
of her first friendship was at an end, and that the object of it was
only worthy of a very ordinary sort of regard.

As for Blanche, she instantly composed a copy of touching verses,
setting forth her desertion and disenchantment. It was only the old
story, she wrote, of love meeting with coldness, and fidelity returned
by neglect; and some new neighbours arriving from London about this
time, in whose family there were daughters, Miss Amory had the advantage
of selecting an eternal friend from one of these young ladies, and
imparting her sorrows and disappointments to this new sister. The
tall footmen came but seldom now with notes to the sweet Laura; the
pony-carriage was but rarely despatched to Fairoaks to be at the orders
of the ladies there. Blanche adopted a sweet look of suffering
martyrdom when Laura came to see her. The other laughed at her friend's
sentimental mood, and treated it with a good-humour that was by no means
respectful.

But if Miss Blanche found new female friends to console her, the
faithful historian is also bound to say, that she discovered some
acquaintances of the other sex who seemed to give her consolation
too. If ever this artless young creature met a young man, and had ten
minutes' conversation with him in a garden walk, in a drawing-room
window, or in the intervals of a waltz, she confided in him, so to
speak--made play with her beautiful eyes--spoke in a tone of tender
interest, and simple and touching appeal, and left him, to perform the
same pretty little drama in behalf of his successor.

When the Claverings first came down to the Park, there were very few
audiences before whom Miss Blanche could perform: hence Pen had all the
benefits of her glances and confidences, and the drawing-room window or
the garden walk all to himself. In the town of Clavering, it has been
said, there were actually young men: in the near surrounding country,
only a curate or two or a rustic young squire, with large feet and
ill-made clothes. To the dragoons quartered at Chatteris the Baronet
made no overtures: it was unluckily his own regiment: he had left it
on bad terms with some officers of the corps--an ugly business about
a horse bargain--a disputed play account--blind-Hookey--a white
feather--who need ask?--it is not our business to inquire too closely
into the bygones of our characters, except in so far