pleasing gentlewoman. But no such luck; three pounds would not buy. her."
Sophy. "I am glad of that; I don't care so much: for the Mermaid—she's dead and stuffed. But, oh" (another scream), "perhaps 'tis the Spotted Boy!"
Mr. Waife. "Calm your sanguine imagination; you aspire too high! But this I will tell you, that our companion, whatsoever or whosoever that companion may be, will be one you will like."
"I don't believe it," said Sophy, shaking her head, "I only like you. But who is it?"
"Alas!" said Mr. Waife, "it is no use pampering ourselves with vain hopes; the three pounds are not forthcoming. You heard what that brute Rugge said, that the gentleman who wanted to take your portrait had called on him this morning, and offered 10s. for a sitting—that is, 5s. for you, 5s. for Rugge; and Rugge thought the terms reasonable."
"But I said I would not sit."
"And when you did say it, you heard Rugge's language to me—to you. And now we must think of packing up, and be off at dawn with the rest. And," added the comedian, coloring high, "I must again parade, to boors and clowns, this mangled form; again set myself out as a spectacle of bodily infirmity—man's last degradation. And this I have come to—I!"
"No, no, Grandy, it will not last long! we will get the three pounds. We have always hoped on!—hope still! And besides, I am sure those gentlemen will come here to-night. Mr. Merle said they would, at ten o'clock. It is near ten now, and your tea cold as a stone."
She hung on his neck caressingly, kissing his furrowed brow, and leaving a tear there, and thus coaxed him till he set to quietly at his meal; and Sophy shared it, though she had no appetite in sorrowing for him—but to keep him company; that done, she lighted his pipe with the best canaster—his sole luxury and expense; but she always contrived that he should afford it.
Mr. Waife drew a long whiff, and took a more serene view of affairs. He who doth not smoke hath either known no great griefs, or refuseth himself the softest consolation, next to that which comes from heaven. "What softer than woman?" whispers the young reader. Young reader, woman teases as well as consoles. Woman makes half the sorrows which she boasts the privilege to soothe. Woman consoles us, it is true, while we are young and handsome; when we are old and ugly, woman snubs and scolds us. On the whole, then, woman in this scale, the
