The things we do!

Clive and I should have beat up your
quarters to-day, but we were busy until dinnertime. You put me in mind of
poor Emma, Charles," he added, sadly. Emma had not been a good wife to
him; a flighty silly little woman, who had caused him when alive many a
night of pain and day of anxiety.
"Poor, poor Emma!" exclaimed the ecclesiastic, casting his eyes towards
the chandelier, and passing a white cambric pocket-handkerchief
gracefully before them. No man in London understood the ring business or
the pocket-handkerchief business better, or smothered his emotion more
beautifully. "In the gayest moments, in the giddiest throng of fashion,
the thoughts of the past will rise; the departed will be among us still.
But this is not the strain wherewith to greet the friend newly arrived on
our shores. How it rejoices me to behold you in old England! How you must
have joyed to see Clive!"
"D--- the humbug," muttered Barnes, who knew him perfectly well. "The
fellow is always in the pulpit.


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