“I scarcely know what to say about Clara. She has lost her spirits, though gained in looks, and she is a perfect mope, but very pretty withal. She fancies herself in love with a young college man lately here, who won all the disposable hearts in the place, and might have had a share even in mine, if he had asked for it. The greater fool he that he did not, since he wanted exactly such guidance as I could give to open the secret door of success to him. By the way, has his father died, or what has become of him? In turning over some papers t'other day, the name recurred with some far from pleasant recollections associated with it. Scientific folk used to tell us that all the constituents of our mortal bodies became consumed _every_ seven years of life. And why, I ask, ought we not to start with fresh memories as well as muscles, and ignore any past beyond that short term of existence? I am perfectly convinced it is carrying alone bygones, whether of events or people, that constitutes the greatest ill of life. One so very seldom repents of having done wrong, and is so very, very sorry to have lost many opportunities of securing success, that really the past is all sorrow.
“You have forgotten to counsel me about Clara. The alternative lies between the stage and a convent. Pray say which of the two, in these changeful times, gives the best promise of permanence; and believe me
CHAPTER XXVIII. THE O'SHEA AT HIS LODGINGS.
A very brief chapter will suffice to record the doings of two of our characters, not destined to perform very foreground parts in the present drama. We mean Mr. O'Shea and Charles Heathcote. They had established themselves in lodgings in a certain locality called Manchester Buildings, much favored by some persons who haunt the avenues of “the House,” and are always in search of “our Borough Member.” Neither the aspect of their domicile, nor their style of living, bespoke flourishing circumstances. O'Shea, indeed, had returned to town in cash, but an unlucky night at the “Garottoman” had finished him, and he returned to his lodgings one morning at daybreak two hundred and seventeen pounds worse than nothing.
Heathcote had not played; nay, he had lived almost penuriously; but in a few weeks all his resources were nigh exhausted, and no favorable change had occurred in his fortunes. At the Horse Guards he had been completely unsuccessful. He had served, it is true, with distinction, but, as he had quitted the army, he could not expect to be restored to his former rank, while, by the rules of the service, he was too old to enter as a subaltern. And thus a trained soldier, who had won fame and honor in two campaigns, was, at the age of twenty-six, decided to be superannuated. It was the chance meeting of O'Shea in the street, when this dilemma was mentioned, that led to their ultimate companionship, for the Member at once swore to bring the case before the House, and to make the country ring from end to end with the enormity. Poor Heathcote, friendless and alone at the moment, caught at the promise, and a few days afterwards saw them domesticated as chums at No.--, in the locality already mentioned.