126 A CONTRE-TEMPS.

if the streets were paved with gold, Scarcely, how-
ever, had they landed in England, when he returned
home to his lodgings almost on the verge of despair.

He was again a ruined man, almost pennyless.
How it happened she could not tell; she suspected
that he had fallen into the hands of designing gam-
blers who had robbed him of all. He was in despair ;
his health gave way, and, at the suggestion of the
kind woman with whom they lodged, she began to
paint miniatures and make fancy-work. She worked
incessantly, and made a large stock of things, which |
she sold at good prices to the bazaars and shops. A
fellow-lodger, who took a great fancy to her father,
and who supported himself by dealing in common
stationery, was then ill, and shortly after died, leaving
to her father his little stock in trade, and his recipes
for ink and sealing-wax. This and her fancy-work
and painting had since then supported them. As
soon as he was better in health, and had somewhat
recovered his spirits, they came down here, intending
to make themselves known to her mother’s sister; she,
however, was dead. And, then, as to her brother—”
poor Marianne blushed deeply —“ yes, indeed, what
a strange blunder she had made!”

Such was her narrative ; and the two sisters, even
the blind one, were as much charmed with her as
their nephew had been. Pretty she was, beyond
words ; and she was wise, and clever, and cheerful-
hearted, had had sorrow enough to have bowed her
down to the earth, and yet she was as gay as a bird:
the truth was, there was a well-spring of gladness in
her heart, and that was the spirit of love that never
wearied in well-doing. She was a very jewel of a
human being, and so neat and fairy-like withal, and