A WEEK is gone; LE JOUR DES NOCES arrived; the marriage wassolemnized at St. Jacques; Mdlle. Zoraide became Madame Pelet,NEE Reuter; and, in about an hour after this transformation, "thehappy pair," as newspapers phrase it, were on their way to Paris;where, according to previous arrangement, the honeymoon was to bespent. The next day I quitted the pensionnat. Myself and mychattels (some books and clothes) were soon transferred to amodest lodging I had hired in a street not far off. In half anhour my clothes were arranged in a commode, my books on a shelf,and the "flitting" was effected. I should not have been unhappythat day had not one pang tortured me--a longing to go to the RueNotre Dame aux Neiges, resisted, yet irritated by an inwardresolve to avoid that street till such time as the mist of doubtshould clear from my prospects.

It was a sweet September evening--very mild, very still; I hadnothing to do; at that hour I knew Frances would be equallyreleased from occupation; I thought she might possibly be wishingfor her master, I knew I wished for my pupil. Imagination beganwith her low whispers, infusing into my soul the soft tale ofpleasures that might be.

"You will find her reading or writing," said she; "you can takeyour seat at her side; you need not startle her peace by undueexcitement; you need not embarrass her manner by unusual actionor language. Be as you always are; look over what she haswritten; listen while she reads; chide her, or quietly approve;you know the effect of either system; you know her smile whenpleased, you you know the play of her looks when roused; you havethe secret of awakening that expression you will, and you canchoose amongst that pleasant variety. With you she will sitsilent as long as it suits you to talk alone; you can hold herunder a potent spell: intelligent as she is, eloquent as she canbe, you can seal her lips, and veil her bright countenance withdiffidence; yet, you know, she is not all monotonous mildness;you have seen, with a sort of strange pleasure, revolt, scorn,austerity, bitterness, lay energetic claim to a place in herfeelings and physiognomy; you know that few could rule her as youdo; you know she might break, but never bend under the hand ofTyranny and Injustice, but Reason and Affection can guide her bya sign. Try their influence now. Go--they are not passions;you may handle them safely."

"I will NOT go was my answer to the sweet temptress. "A man ismaster of himself to a certain point, but not beyond it. Could Iseek Frances to-night, could I sit with her alone in a quietroom, and address her only in the language of Reason andAffection?"

"No," was the brief, fervent reply of that Love which hadconquered and now controlled me.

Time seemed to stagnate; the sun would not go down; my watchticked, but I thought the hands were paralyzed.

"What a hot evening!" I cried, throwing open the lattice; for,indeed, I had seldom felt so feverish. Hearing a step ascendingthe common stair, I wondered whether the "locataire," nowmounting to his apartments, were as unsettled in mind andcondition as I was, or whether he lived in the calm of certainresources, and in the freedom of unfettered feelings. What! washe coming in person to solve the problem hardly proposed ininaudible thought? He had actually knocked at the door--at MYdoor; a smart, prompt rap; and, almost before I could invite himin, he was over the threshold, and had closed the door behindhim.

"And how are you?" asked an indifferent, quiet voice, in theEnglish language; while my visitor, without any sort of bustle orintroduction, put his hat on the table, and his gloves into hishat, and drawing the only armchair the room afforded a littleforward, seated himself tranquilly therein.

"Can't you speak?" he inquired in a few moments, in a tone whosenonchalance seemed to intimate that it was much the same thingwhether I answered or not. The fact is, I found it desirable tohave recourse to my good friends "les besicles;" not exactly toascertain the identity of my visitor--for I already knew him,confound his impudence! but to see how he looked--to get a clearnotion of his mien and countenance. I wiped the glasses verydeliberately, and put them on quite as deliberately; adjustingthem so as not to hurt the bridge of my nose or get entangled inmy short tufts of dun hair. I was sitting in the window-seat,with my back to the light, and I had him VIS-A-VIS; a position hewould much rather have had reversed; for, at any time, hepreferred scrutinizing to being scrutinized. Yes, it was HE, andno mistake, with his six feet of length arranged in a sittingattitude; with his dark travelling surtout with its velvetcollar, his gray pantaloons, his black stock, and his face, themost original one Nature ever modelled, yet the least obtrusivelyso; not one feature that could be termed marked or odd, yet theeffect of the whole unique. There is no use in attempting todescribe what is indescribable. Being in no hurry to addresshim, I sat and stared at my ease.

"Oh, that's your game--is it?" said he at last. "Well, we'll seewhich is soonest tired." And he slowly drew out a finecigar-case, picked one to his taste, lit it, took a book from theshelf convenient to his hand, then leaning back, proceeded tosmoke and read as tranquilly as if he had been in his own room,in Grove-street, X---shire, England. I knew he was capable ofcontinuing in that attitude till midnight, if he conceived thewhim, so I rose, and taking the book from his hand, I said,--

"You did not ask for it, and you shall not have it."

"It is silly and dull," he observed, "so I have not lost much;"then the spell being broken, he went on. "I thought you lived atPelet's; I went there this afternoon. expecting to be starved todeath by sitting in a boarding-school drawing-room, and they toldme you were gone, had departed this morning; you had left youraddress behind you though, which I wondered at; it was a morepractical and sensible precaution than I should have imagined youcapable of. Why did you leave?"

"Because M. Pelet has just married the lady whom you and Mr.Brown assigned to me as my wife."

"Oh, indeed!" replied Hunsden with a short laugh; "so you've lostboth your wife and your place?"

"Precisely so."

I saw him give a quick, covert glance all round my room; hemarked its narrow limits, its scanty furniture: in an instant hehad comprehended the state of matters--had absolved me from thecrime of prosperity. A curious effect this discovery wrought inhis strange mind; I am morally certain that if he had found meinstalled in a handsome parlour, lounging on a soft couch, with apretty, wealthy wife at my side, he would have hated me; a brief,cold, haughty visit, would in such a case have been the extremelimit of his civilities, and never would he have come near memore, so long as the tide of fortune bore me smoothly on itssurface; but the painted furniture, the bare walls, the cheerlesssolitude of my room relaxed his rigid pride, and I know not whatsoftening change had taken place both in his voice and look erehe spoke again.

"You have got another place?"

"No."

"You are in the way of getting one?"

"No."

"That is bad; have you applied to Brown?"

"No, indeed."

"You had better; he often has it in his power to give usefulinformation in such matters."

"He served me once very well; I have no claim on him, and am notin the humour to bother him again."

"Oh, if you're bashful, and dread being intrusive, you need onlycommission me. I shall see him to-night; I can put in a word."

"I beg you will not, Mr. Hunsden; I am in your debt already; youdid me an important service when I was at X----; got me out of aden where I was dying: that service I have never repaid, and atpresent I decline positively adding another item to the account."

"If the wind sits that way, I'm satisfied. I thought myunexampled generosity in turning you out of that accursedcounting-house would be duly appreciated some day: 'Cast yourbread on the waters, and it shall be found after many days,' saythe Scriptures. Yes, that's right, lad--make much of me--I'm anonpareil: there's nothing like me in the common herd. In themeantime, to put all humbug aside and talk sense for a fewmoments, you would be greatly the better of a situation, and whatis more, you are a fool if you refuse to take one from any handthat offers it."

"Very well, Mr. Hunsden; now you have settled that point, talk ofsomething else. What news from X----?"

"I have not settled that point, or at least there is another tosettle before we get to X----. Is this Miss Zenobie" (Zoraide,interposed I)--"well, Zoraide--is she really married to Pelet?"

"I tell you yes--and if you don't believe me, go and ask the cureof St. Jacques."

"And your heart is broken?"

"I am not aware that it is; it feels all right--beats as usual."

"Then your feelings are less superfine than I took them to be;you must be a coarse, callous character, to bear such a thwackwithout staggering under it."

"Staggering under it? What the deuce is there to stagger underin the circumstance of a Belgian schoolmistress marrying aFrench schoolmaster? The progeny will doubtless be a strangehybrid race; but that's their Look out--not mine."

"He indulges in scurrilous jests, and the bride was his affiancedone!"

"Who said so?"

"Brown."

I'll tell you what, Hunsden--Brown is an old gossip."

"He is; but in the meantime, if his gossip be founded on lessthan fact--if you took no particular interest in Miss Zoraide--why, O youthful pedagogue! did you leave your place inconsequence of her becoming Madame Pelet?"

"Because--" I felt my face grow a little hot; "because--inshort, Mr. Hunsden, I decline answering any more questions," andI plunged my hands deep in my breeches pocket.

Hunsden triumphed: his eyes--his laugh announced victory.

"What the deuce are you laughing at, Mr. Hunsden?"

"At your exemplary composure. Well, lad, I'll not bore you; Isee how it is: Zoraide has jilted you--married some one richer,as any sensible woman would have done if she had had the chance."

I made no reply--I let him think so, not feeling inclined toenter into an explanation of the real state of things, and aslittle to forge a false account; but it was not easy to blindHunsden; my very silence, instead of convincing him that he hadhit the truth, seemed to render him doubtful about it; he wenton:--

"I suppose the affair has been conducted as such affairs alwaysare amongst rational people: you offered her your youth and yourtalents-such as they are--in exchange for her position and money:I don't suppose you took appearance, or what is called LOVE, intothe account--for I understand she is older than you, and Brownsays, rather sensible-looking than beautiful. She, having thenno chance of making a better bargain, was at first inclined tocome to terms with you, but Pelet--the head or a flourishingschool--stepped in with a higher bid; she accepted, and he hasgot her: a correct transaction--perfectly so--business-like andlegitimate. And now we'll talk of something else."

"Do," said I, very glad to dismiss the topic, and especially gladto have baffled the sagacity of my cross-questioner--if, indeed,I had baffled it; for though his words now led away from thedangerous point, his eyes, keen and watchful, seemed stillpreoccupied with the former idea.

"You want to hear news from X----? And what interest can youhave in X----? You left no friends there, for you made none.Nobody ever asks after you--neither man nor woman; and if Imention your name in company, the men look as if I had spoken ofPrester John; and the women sneer covertly. Our X---- bellesmust have disliked you. How did you excite their displeasure?"

"I don't know. I seldom spoke to them--they were nothing to me.I considered them only as something to be glanced at from adistance; their dresses and faces were often pleasing enough tothe eye: but I could not understand their conversation, nor evenread their countenances. When I caught snatches of what theysaid, I could never make much of it; and the play of their lipsand eyes did not help me at all."

"That was your fault, not theirs. There are sensible, as well ashandsome women in X----; women it is worth any man's while totalk to, and with whom I can talk with pleasure: but you had andhave no pleasant address; there is nothing in you to induce awoman to be affable. I have remarked you sitting near the doorin a room full of company, bent on hearing, not on speaking; onobserving, not on entertaining; looking frigidly shy at thecommencement of a party, confusingly vigilant about the middle,and insultingly weary towards the end. Is that the way, do youthink, ever to communicate pleasure or excite interest? No; andif you are generally unpopular, it is because you deserve to beso."

"Content!" I ejaculated.

"No, you are not content; you see beauty always turning its backon you; you are mortified and then you sneer. I verily believeall that is desirable on earth--wealth, reputation, love--willfor ever to you be the ripe grapes on the high trellis: you'lllook up at them; they will tantalize in you the lust of the eye;but they are out of reach: you have not the address to fetch aladder, and you'll go away calling them sour."

Cutting as these words might have been under some circumstances,they drew no blood now. My life was changed; my experience hadbeen varied since I left X----, but Hunsden could not know this;he had seen me only in the character of Mr. Crimsworth's clerk--adependant amongst wealthy strangers, meeting disdain with a hardfront, conscious of an unsocial and unattractive exterior,refusing to sue for notice which I was sure would be withheld,declining to evince an admiration which I knew would be scornedas worthless. He could not be aware that since then youth andloveliness had been to me everyday objects; that I had studiedthem at leisure and closely, and had seen the plain texture oftruth under the embroidery of appearance; nor could he,keen-sighted as he was, penetrate into my heart, search mybrain, and read my peculiar sympathies and antipathies; he hadnot known me long enough, or well enough, to perceive how low myfeelings would ebb under some influences, powerful over mostminds; how high, how fast they would flow under other influences,that perhaps acted with the more intense force on me, becausethey acted on me alone. Neither could he suspect for an instantthe history of my communications with Mdlle. Reuter; secret tohim and to all others was the tale of her strange infatuation;her blandishments, her wiles had been seen but by me, and to meonly were they known; but they had changed me, for they hadproved that I COULD impress. A sweeter secret nestled deeper inmy heart; one full of tenderness and as full of strength: ittook the sting out of Hunsden's sarcasm; it kept me unbent byshame, and unstirred by wrath. But of all this I could saynothing--nothing decisive at least; uncertainty sealed my lips,and during the interval of silence by which alone I replied toMr. Hunsden, I made up my mind to be for the present whollymisjudged by him, and misjudged I was; he thought he had beenrather too hard upon me, and that I was crushed by the weight ofhis upbraidings; so to re-assure me he said, doubtless I shouldmend some day; I was only at the beginning of life yet; and sincehappily I was not quite without sense, every false step I madewould be a good lesson.

Just then I turned my face a little to the light; the approach oftwilight, and my position in the window-seat, had, for the lastten minutes, prevented him from studying my countenance; as Imoved, however, he caught an expression which he thusinterpreted:--

"Confound it! How doggedly self-approving the lad looks! Ithought he was fit to die with shame, and there he sits grinningsmiles, as good as to say, 'Let the world wag as it will, I'vethe philosopher's stone in my waist-coat pocket, and the elixirof life in my cupboard; I'm independent of both Fate andFortune'"

"Hunsden--you spoke of grapes; I was thinking of a fruit I likebetter than your X---- hot-house grapes--an unique fruit, growingwild, which I have marked as my own, and hope one day to gatherand taste. It is of no use your offering me the draught ofbitterness, or threatening me with death by thirst: I have theanticipation of sweetness on my palate; the hope of freshness onmy lips; I can reject the unsavoury, and endure the exhausting."

"For how long?"

"Till the next opportunity for effort; and as the prize ofsuccess will be a treasure after my own heart, I'll bring abull's strength to the struggle."

"Bad luck crushes bulls as easily as bullaces; and, I believe,the fury dogs you: you were born with a wooden spoon in yourmouth, depend on it."

"I believe you; sad I mean to make my wooden spoon do the work ofsome people's silver ladles: grasped firmly, and handled nimbly,even a wooden spoon will shovel up broth."

Hunsden rose: "I see," said he; "I suppose you're one of thosewho develop best unwatched, and act best unaided-work your ownway. Now, I'll go." And, without another word, he was going; atthe door he turned:--

"Crimsworth Hall is sold," said he.

"Sold!" was my echo.

"Yes; you know, of course, that your brother failed three monthsago?"

"What! Edward Crimsworth?"

"Precisely; and his wife went home to her fathers; when affairswent awry, his temper sympathized with them; he used her ill; Itold you he would be a tyrant to her some day; as to him--"

"Ay, as to him--what is become of him?"

"Nothing extraordinary--don't be alarmed; he put himself underthe protection of the court, compounded with his creditors--tenpence in the pound; in six weeks set up again, coaxed backhis wife, and is flourishing like a green bay-tree."

"And Crimsworth Hall--was the furniture sold too?"

"Everything--from the grand piano down to the rolling-pin."

"And the contents of the oak dining-room--were they sold?"

"Of course; why should the sofas and chairs of that room be heldmore sacred than those of any other?"

"And the pictures?"

"What pictures? Crimsworth had no special collection that I knowof--he did not profess to be an amateur."

"There were two portraits, one on each side the mantelpiece; youcannot have forgotten them, Mr. Hunsden; you once noticed that ofthe lady--"

"Oh, I know! the thin-faced gentlewoman with a shawl put on likedrapery.--Why, as a matter of course, it would be sold among theother things. If you had been rich, you might have bought it,for I remember you said it represented your mother: you see whatit is to be without a sou."

I did. "But surely," I thought to myself, "I shall not always beso poverty-stricken; I may one day buy it back yet.--Whopurchased it? do you know?" I asked.

"How is it likely? I never inquired who purchased anything;there spoke the unpractical man--to imagine all the world isinterested in what interests himself! Now, good night--I'm offfor Germany to-morrow morning; I shall be back here in six weeks,and possibly I may call and see you again; I wonder whetheryou'll be still out of place!" he laughed, as mockingly, asheartlessly as Mephistopheles, and so laughing, vanished.

Some people, however indifferent they may become after aconsiderable space of absence, always contrive to leave apleasant impression just at parting; not so Hunsden, a conferencewith him affected one like a draught of Peruvian bark; it seemeda concentration of the specially harsh, stringent, bitter;whether, like bark, it invigorated, I scarcely knew.

A ruffled mind makes a restless pillow; I slept little on thenight after this interview; towards morning I began to doze, buthardly had my slumber become sleep, when I was roused from it byhearing a noise in my sitting room, to which my bed-roomadjoined--a step, and a shoving of furniture; the movement lastedbarely two minutes; with the closing of the door it ceased. Ilistened; not a mouse stirred; perhaps I had dreamt it; perhaps alocataire had made a mistake, and entered my apartment instead ofhis own. It was yet but five o'clock; neither I nor the day werewide awake; I turned, and was soon unconscious. When I did rise,about two hours later, I had forgotten the circumstance; thefirst thing I saw, however, on quitting my chamber, recalled it;just pushed in at the door of my sitting-room, and still standingon end, was a wooden packing-case--a rough deal affair, wide butshallow; a porter had doubtless shoved it forward, but seeing nooccupant of the room, had left it at the entrance.

"That is none of mine," thought I, approaching; "it must be meantfor somebody else." I stooped to examine the address:--

"Wm. Crimsworth, Esq., No --, -- St., Brussels."

I was puzzled, but concluding that the best way to obtaininformation was to ask within, I cut the cords and opened thecase. Green baize enveloped its contents, sewn carefully at thesides; I ripped the pack-thread with my pen-knife, and still, asthe seam gave way, glimpses of gilding appeared through thewidening interstices. Boards and baize being at length removed,I lifted from the case a large picture, in a magnificent frame;leaning it against a chair, in a position where the light fromthe window fell favourably upon it, I stepped back--already I hadmounted my spectacles. A portrait-painter's sky (the most sombreand threatening of welkins), and distant trees of a conventionaldepth of hue, raised in full relief a pale, pensive-lookingfemale face, shadowed with soft dark hair, almost blending withthe equally dark clouds; large, solemn eyes looked reflectivelyinto mine; a thin cheek rested on a delicate little hand; ashawl, artistically draped, half hid, half showed a slightfigure. A listener (had there been one) might have heard me,after ten minutes' silent gazing, utter the word "Mother!" Imight have said more--but with me, the first word uttered aloudin soliloquy rouses consciousness; it reminds me that only crazypeople talk to themselves, and then I think out my monologue,instead of speaking it. I had thought a long while, and a longwhile had contemplated the intelligence, the sweetness, and--alas! the sadness also of those fine, grey eyes, the mentalpower of that forehead, and the rare sensibility of that seriousmouth, when my glance, travelling downwards, fell on a narrowbillet, stuck in the corner of the picture, between the frame andthe canvas. Then I first asked, "Who sent this picture? Whothought of me, saved it out of the wreck of Crimsworth Hall, andnow commits it to the care of its natural keeper?" I took thenote from its niche; thus it spoke:--

"There is a sort of stupid pleasure in giving a child sweets, afool his bells, a dog a bone. You are repaid by seeing the childbesmear his face with sugar; by witnessing how the fool's ecstasymakes a greater fool of him than ever; by watching the dog'snature come out over his bone. In giving William Crimsworth hismother's picture, I give him sweets, bells, and bone all in one;what grieves me is, that I cannot behold the result; I would haveadded five shillings more to my bid if the, auctioneer could onlyhave promised me that pleasure.

"H. Y. H.

"P.S.--You said last night you positively declined adding anotheritem to your account with me; don't you think I've saved you thattrouble?"

I muffled the picture in its green baize covering, restored it tothe case, and having transported the whole concern to mybed-room, put it out of sight under my bed. My pleasure was nowpoisoned by pungent pain; I determined to look no more till Icould look at my ease. If Hunsden had come in at that moment, Ishould have said to him, "I owe you nothing, Hunsden--not afraction of a farthing: you have paid yourself in taunts!"

Too anxious to remain any longer quiescent, I had no soonerbreakfasted, than I repaired once more to M. Vandenhuten's,scarcely hoping to find him at home; for a week had barelyelapsed since my first call: but fancying I might be able toglean information as to the time when his return was expected.A better result awaited me than I had anticipated, for thoughthe family were yet at Ostend, M. Vandenhuten had come over toBrussels on business for the day. He received me with the quietkindness of a sincere though not excitable man. I had not satfive minutes alone with him in his bureau, before I became awareof a sense of ease in his presence, such as I rarely experiencedwith strangers. I was surprised at my own composure, for, afterall, I had come on business to me exceedingly painful--that ofsoliciting a favour. I asked on what basis the calm rested--Ifeared it might be deceptive. Ere long I caught a glimpse of theground, and at once I felt assured of its solidity; I knew whereit was.

M.Vandenhuten was rich, respected, and influential; I, poor,despised and powerless; so we stood to the world at large asmembers of the world's society; but to each other, as a pair ofhuman beings, our positions were reversed. The Dutchman (he wasnot Flamand, but pure Hollandais) was slow, cool, of rather denseintelligence, though sound and accurate judgment; the Englishmanfar more nervous, active, quicker both to plan and to practise,to conceive and to realize. The Dutchman was benevolent, theEnglishman susceptible; in short our characters dovetailed, butmy mind having more fire and action than his, instinctivelyassumed and kept the predominance.

This point settled, and my position well ascertained, I addressedhim on the subject of my affairs with that genuine franknesswhich full confidence can alone inspire. It was a pleasure to himto be so appealed to; he thanked me for giving him thisopportunity of using a little exertion in my behalf. I went onto explain to him that my wish was not so much to be helped, asto be put into the way of helping myself; of him I did not wantexertion--that was to be my part--but only information andrecommendation. Soon after I rose to go. He held out his handat parting--an action of greater significance with foreignersthan with Englishmen. As I exchanged a smile with him, I thoughtthe benevolence of his truthful face was better than theintelligence of my own. Characters of my order experience abalm-like solace in the contact of such souls as animated thehonest breast of Victor Vandenhuten.

The next fortnight was a period of many alternations; myexistence during its lapse resembled a sky of one of thoseautumnal nights which are specially haunted by meteors andfalling stars. Hopes and fears, expectations anddisappointments, descended in glancing showers from zenith tohorizon; but all were transient, and darkness followed swift eachvanishing apparition. M. Vandenhuten aided me faithfully; he setme on the track of several places, and himself made efforts tosecure them for me; but for a long time solicitation andrecommendation were vain--the door either shut in my face when Iwas about to walk in, or another candidate, entering before me,rendered my further advance useless. Feverish and roused, nodisappointment arrested me; defeat following fast on defeatserved as stimulants to will. I forgot fastidiousness, conqueredreserve, thrust pride from me: I asked, I persevered, Iremonstrated, I dunned. It is so that openings are forced intothe guarded circle where Fortune sits dealing favours round. Myperseverance made me known; my importunity made me remarked. Iwas inquired about; my former pupils' parents, gathering thereports of their children, heard me spoken of as talented, andthey echoed the word: the sound, bandied about at random, cameat last to ears which, but for its universality, it might neverhave reached; and at the very crisis when I had tried my lasteffort and knew not what to do, Fortune looked in at me onemorning, as I sat in drear and almost desperate deliberation onmy bedstead, nodded with the familiarity of an old acquaintance--though God knows I had never met her before--and threw a prizeinto my lap.

In the second week of October, 18--, I got the appointment ofEnglish professor to all the classes of ---- College, Brussels,with a salary of three thousand francs per annum; and thecertainty of being able, by dint of the reputation and publicityaccompanying the position, to make as much more by private means.The official notice, which communicated this information,mentioned also that it was the strong recommendation of M.Vandenhuten, negociant, which had turned the scale of choice inmy favour.

No sooner had I read the announcement than I hurried to M.Vandenhuten's bureau, pushed the document under his nose, andwhen he had perused it, took both his hands, and thanked him withunrestrained vivacity. My vivid words and emphatic gesture movedhis Dutch calm to unwonted sensation. He said he was happy--gladto have served me; but he had done nothing meriting such thanks.He had not laid out a centime--only scratched a few words on asheet of paper.

Again I repeated to him--

"You have made me quite happy, and in a way that suits me; I donot feel an obligation irksome, conferred by your kind hand; I donot feel disposed to shun you because you have done me a favour;from this day you must consent to admit me to your intimateacquaintance, for I shall hereafter recur again and again to thepleasure of your society."

"Ainsi soit-il," was the reply, accompanied by a smile ofbenignant content. I went away with its sunshine in my heart.