associated with it. The careless notice of the squire tells more upon
the heart of the pretty milk-maid than years of honest Dobbin's manly
devotion, and so on and up. It is an unjust world!

But in this case there was something more. I was conscious of being
good-looking. I really believe I was; and there could be no mistake
about my being nearly six feet high. Why need this lady have thanked me?
Had not her husband, for such I assumed him to be, thanked me quite
enough and for both? I was instinctively aware that the lady was looking
on me with no unwilling eyes; and, through her veil, I felt the power of
her gaze.

She was now rolling away, with a train of dust behind her wheels in the
golden sunlight, and a wise young gentleman followed her with ardent
eyes and sighed profoundly as the distance increased.

I told the postilions on no account to pass the carriage, but to keep it
steadily in view, and to pull up at whatever posting-house it should
stop at. We were soon in the little town, and the carriage we followed
drew up at the Belle Etoile, a comfortable old inn. They got out of the
carriage and entered the house.

At a leisurely pace we followed. I got down, and mounted the steps
listlessly, like a man quite apathetic and careless.

Audacious as I was, I did not care to inquire in what room I should find
them. I peeped into the apartment to my right, and then into that on my
left. _My_ people were not there. I ascended the stairs. A
drawing-room door stood open. I entered with the most innocent air in
the world. It was a spacious room, and, beside myself, contained but one