exactly know. Thus ended cogitation the second,
after which came another series.

What had our hero said--what had he accused her of? That she no longer
bestowed on him her confidence placed in him for many years. This was
true; but were not the relative positions, was not the case different?
Should he now retain any secret from her?--there should be no secrets
between them. There again there was a full stop before the sentence was
complete. After a little more reflection, her own generous mind pointed
out to her that she had been in the wrong; and that our hero had cause
to be offended with her; and she made up her mind to make reparation the
first time that they should be alone.

Having come to this resolution, she dismissed the previous question, and
began to think about the secret itself, and what it possibly could be,
and how she wished she knew what it was; all of which was very natural.
In the meantime our hero had made up his mind to leave Portsmouth, for a
time at all events. This quarrel with Emma, if such it might be
considered, had made him very miserable, and the anxiety he had lately
suffered had seriously affected his health.

We believe that there never was anybody in this world who had grown to
man's or woman's estate and had mixed with the world, who could
afterwards say that they were at any time perfectly happy; or who,
having said so, did not find that the reverse was the case a moment or
two after the words were out of their mouth. "There is always
something," as a good lady said to us; and so there always is, and
always will be. The removal of Furness was naturally a great relief to
the mind of our hero; he then felt as if all his difficulties were
surmounted, and that he had no longer any fear of the consequences which
might ensue from his father's crime. He would now, he thought, be able
to walk boldly through the world without recognition, and he had built
castles enough to form a metropolis when his rupture with Emma broke the
magic mirror through which he had scanned futurity. When most buoyant
with hope, he found the truth of the good lady's saying--"There is
always something."

After remaining in his room for an hour, Joey went down to the
counting-house, where he found Mr Small and Mr Sleek both at work, for
their labours had increased since Joey had so much neglected business.

"Well, my good friend, how do you find yourself?" said Mr Small.

"Very far from well, sir. I