only be just in time to see how my colts sell at Tattersall's. There are two or three I should like you to have, as I know they'll turn out splendid animals." "Stone's a respectable fellow!" said Smith, as they left the place together. "But rather too fond of making business." This was his real opinion of the worthy ancient of Thieves' Inn; and he knew him thoroughly. But Smith, in his own way, was rather fond of driving a hard bargain himself, and could therefore readily forgive the like disposition in another. CHAPTER V. Oui, le bonheur est facile J'en atteste ma gaieté. BERANGER. WHILE Florian is engaged in an uninterrupted succession of gaieties, divided in his fancies between Una and Geraldine, and seriously thinking of a visit to the villa of Lord Glarvale-notwithstanding the illnatured sarcasms of Freeborn, slyly thrown in on every available opportunity—we will return for a while to the two poor sisters introduced to the reader at the commencement of this narrative, and relate their humble adventures in the period which has elapsed. The arrival of Florian in London had cast a gleam of light over their path. They were so very simple that they experienced an indefinable feeling of comfort in the thought of his protection. They magnified his learning and talents, not knowing how useless or how burdensome such qualities were in the commerce of the world. They had anticipated the happiest effects from his interference; and besides, being so solitary and friendless in the midst of the mighty town, they were cheered by thinking that there was one person in it who cared for them, and they were enlivened by his occasional visits. But when he departed their spirits sunk a little, and they felt a more desolate sense of their loneliness. He had gained a place in their affections, which now, left void, gave them that worst of all sensations-the heartache. The sick girl, Millicent, spoke of him least ; her spirit was too high for complaint, but her dark lashes drooped on her cheek, and her thin pale fingers trembled over her work when his name was mentioned. Her agitation was not hidden from the watchful eyes of Griselda; she knew there was more in her sister's nature than she understood—a depth of feeling a strength of will-a warmth of imagination which, under a kinder fate, might have blossomed, like her form, into luxuriant beauty. The humble, self-deny ing Griselda regarded her with that highest kind of human love, in which the care that cherishes is mingled with the devotion that admires. She loved her even better for her exactions; for constant indulgence had made Millicent wilful; and felt her affection constantly grow with her sacrifices! Not, indeed, that she was conscious of any sacrifice; for to her it seemed the most natural thing in the world, that she should give way in every thing to her sister—that she should comply with all her wishes, and respect even her caprices. What Millicent spoke was for Griselda a law. She had absolute faith in her sister's judgment, and trusted to it implicitly on all points. The work which supplied the means for their poor maintenance was not all her toil. She had to wait on her sister, and attend to her infirmities-for Millicent was a great sufferer, and sometimes could not repress the cry of anguish which rose to her bloodless lips, as she lay propped up by pillows, like a sculpture of purest marble. Perhaps it was the very multiplicity of Griselda's cares, the constancy of her occupation (she had little time for thought, she left that to her sister), which contributed to her cheer fulness-perhaps it was the zeal of her love which supported her; for affection which demands so much, gives a strength equal-ay, superior to what it requires. However it might be, she bore the long day's labours, and the night's watchfulness, not only without a murmur, but with unfailing health. Most true it is, that when "the mind's free the body's delicate;" and when, on the other hand, the mind is excited, when its energies are called forth, by duty, by principle, by love-by any of the higher incentives to exertion-then the body is gifted with supernatural strength, to fulfil the requirements of the spirit. Griselda, when she noticed the emotion of her sister at the name of Florian, looked into her own heart to discover its cause. She found that he was dear to her too, but in what sense was more than she could tell. She was conscious that in his presence she had felt a new pleasure that her heart seemed drawn towards him by an indefinable attraction; she regretted his departure, but it did not disturb her peace. On her sister, she saw, it weighed more heavily. This was not surprising, she thought; for Millicent always felt more deeply than she |