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Various

"Volume 17, New Series, February 14, 1852"

'Your story cannot be very long, and I shall
have just enough time to hear it.'
I smiled at her authoritative tone, and said quietly: 'I am an artist,
madam, and I had counted much on the success of my first historical
painting. It has failed, and I am both penniless and infamous. I am
the "presumptuous dauber" of the critics--despised by my
creditors--emphatically a failure throughout.'
'Pshaw!' cried the lady impatiently; 'and what is that for a grief? a
day's disappointment which a day's labour can repair! To me, your
troubles seem of no more worth than a child's tears when he has broken
his newest toy! Here is Birmingham, and I must bid you farewell.
Perhaps you will open the door for me? Good-morning: you have made my
journey pleasant, and relieved my ennui. I shall be happy to see you
in town, and to help you forward in your career.'
And with these words, said in a strange, indifferent, matter-of-fact
tone, as of one accustomed to all the polite offers of good society,
which mean nothing tangible, she was lifted from the carriage by a
train of servants, and borne off the platform.
I looked at the card which she placed in my hand, and read the address
of 'Mrs Arden, Belgrave Square.'
I found my friend waiting for me; and in a few moments was seated
before a blazing fire in a magnificent drawing-room, surrounded with
every comfort that hospitality could offer or luxury invent.
'Here, at least, is happiness,' I thought, as I saw the family
assemble in the drawing-room before dinner.


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