: a silver filigree
basket, a few teaspoons, baby's gold coral, and a costly crimson
velvet-bound copy of the Hon. Miss Grimstone's Church Service, to which
articles, having thus appropriated them, Mrs. Mackenzie henceforward
laid claim as her own.

So when the packing was done a cab was called to receive the modest
trunks of this fugitive family--the coachman was bidden to put his
horses to again, and for the last time poor Rosey Newcome sate in her
own carriage, to which the Colonel conducted her with his courtly old
bow, kissing the baby as it slept once more unconscious in its nurse's
embrace, and bestowing a very grave and polite parting salute upon the
Campaigner.

Then Clive and his father entered a cab on which the trunks were borne,
and they drove to the Tower Stairs, where the ship lay which was to
convey them out of England; and, during that journey, no doubt, they
talked over their altered prospects, and I am sure Clive's father
blessed his son fondly, and committed him and his family to a good God's
gracious keeping, and thought of him with sacred love when they had
parted, and Thomas Newcome had returned to his lonely house to watch and
to think of his ruined fortunes, and to pray that he might have courage
under them; that he might bear his own fate honourably; and that a
gentle one might be dealt to those beloved beings for whom his life had
been sacrificed in vain.

CHAPTER LXXII. Belisarius

When the sale of Colonel Newcome's effects took place, a friend of the
family bought in for a few shillings those two swords which had hung, as
we have said, in the good man's chamber, and for which no single broker
present had the heart to bid. The head of Clive's father, painted by
himself, which had always kept its place in the young man's studio,
together with a lot of his oil-sketchings, easels, and painting
apparatus, were purchased by the faithful J. J., who kept them until his
friend should return to London and reclaim them, and who showed the most
generous solicitude in Clive's behalf. J. J. was elected of the Royal
Academy this year, and Clive, it was evident, was working hard at the
profession which he had always loved; for he sent over three pictures to
the Academy, and I never knew man more mortified than the affectionate
J. J., when two of these unlucky pieces were rejected by the committee
for the year. One pretty little piece, called "The Stranded Boat," got
a fair place on the Exhibiti