But Valentine's triumph did not end here. His picture of the
treacherous cat stealing the household milk--entitled, by way of
appealing jocosely to the strong Protestant interest, "The Jesuit in
the Family,"--was really sold to an Art-Union prize-holder for ten
pounds. Once furnished with a bank note won by his own brush, Valentine
indulged in the most extravagant anticipations of future celebrity and
future wealth; and proved, recklessly enough, that he believed as
firmly as any other visionary in the wildest dreams of his own
imagination, by marrying, and setting up an establishment, on the
strength of the success which had been achieved by "The Jesuit in the
Family."

He had been for some time past engaged to the lady who had now become
Mrs. Valentine Blyth. She was the youngest of eight sisters, who formed
part of the family of a poor engraver, and who, in the absence of any
mere money qualifications, were all rich alike in the ownership of most
magnificent Christian names. Mrs. Blyth was called Lavinia-Ada; and
hers was by far the humblest name to be found among the whole
sisterhood. Valentine's relations all objected strongly to this match,
not only on account of the bride's poverty, but for another and a very
serious reason, which events soon proved to be but too well founded.

Lavinia had suffered long and severely, as a child, from a bad spinal
malady. Constant attention, and such medical assistance as her father
could afford to employ, had, it was said, successfully combated the
disorder; and the girl grew up, prettier than any of her sisters, and
apparently almost as strong as the healthiest of them. Old Mr. Blyth,
however, on hearing that his son was now just as determined to become a
married man as he had formerly been to become a painter, thought it
advisable to make certain inquiries about the young lady's