"
"Well," said Crayshaw, "I tried that subject because Mr. Mortimer said
something about the true sustenance of the poetic life coming from the
race and the soil to which the poet belonged; but George was so savage
when I showed it to him that I felt obliged to burn it."
"Five.--'To Mrs. M. of M.,'" continued Valentine. "It seems to be a
song:--
"'Oh, clear as candles newly snuffed
Are those round orbs of thine.'"
"It's false," exclaimed Crayshaw; "Mrs. Melcombe indeed! She's fat,
she's three times too old for me."
"Why did you write it, then?" persisted Valentine. "I think this line,--
"'Lovely as waxwork is thy brow,'
"does you great credit. But what avails it! She is now another's. I got
her wedding cards this morning. She is married to one Josiah Fothergill,
and he lives in Warwick Square.
"Six--'The Black Eye, a Study from Life.'"
"But their things are not all fun, cousin Val," said Gladys, observing,
not without pleasure, that Crayshaw was a little put out at Valentine's
joke about Mrs. Melcombe.
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