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Note: This text has been automatically extracted via Optical Character Recognition (OCR) software. The text has not been manually corrected and should not be relied on to be an accurate representation of the item.
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I'll melt no money in my drink Where ruffian * tight and rail ; The guager never dipped his stick la my cheap ale . But when we household suffrage get , And honest men prevail , Then , hey Mechanics ! for free trade And cheaper ale .
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No . 8 . THE INTRIGUANTE .
There was silence in the dressing-room of the Dowager Lady Mateland ; but not because it was tenantless . Her ladyship had just past from it attended by her niece , Georgina Mountwell , who might have been deemed her daughter ; not for any personal resemblance , for the one was large , like a huge bastion , with corresponding massiveness of features ; the other tall , like
a slender minaret , with an acute pretty face . But the craft and contrivance which had lifted Lady Mateland into rank and riches , appeared as prominently developed in her brother ' s daughter ; and now that her ladyship had wedded her son ' s estates to a fine piece of landed property , to which the
contingency of a wife was , however , attached , and had matched her daughter ' s dower to the fair funds of a titled drysalter , she
was at leisure to look out for a fortune for her favourite niece , a pursuit in which the young damsel most dutifully assisted her . \ Vhen these ladies passed from the dressing-room , where the elder had been adorned for a fancy ball , they left a young and very lovely girl leaning on the scroll of a couch , upon which the sumptuous velvet mantle of Lady Mateland lay in dark and
ample folds . This girl was a relation , a poor relation , as the phrase is , of the ladies who had just left her , and through whom she became daily but too sensible of the cold quality ascribed to charity . In the course of the conversation which had passed that evening in her presence , she discovered that hopes which had beamed upon her fortune—dreams which had dazzled her fancy —were finally dashed . The quick beating of her heart—the
paling of her cheek—were unnoted , or unheeded by the cold , busy , speculating interlocutors , and not an audible token had Clara given that she suffered . But when her torturers were gone , and she was left to the luxury of solitude , the prisoned tears , at last set free , rolled slowly from her upraised eyes—for
a moment she stood statue-like in her desolate beauty , then falling forward on the couch , she lay like the faint moon when a rack of clouds are round her , ana the sobbing of the passed storm is dying in the distance .
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14 The Intriguante .
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SKETCHES OF DOMESTIC LIFE
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Citation
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Monthly Repository (1806-1838) and Unitarian Chronicle (1832-1833), Jan. 2, 1836, page 14, in the Nineteenth-Century Serials Edition (2008; 2018) ncse.ac.uk/periodicals/mruc/issues/vm2-ncseproduct2653/page/14/
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