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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 .
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 .
14 The Intriguante .
SKETCHES OF DOMESTIC LIFE
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/