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LIFE'S CHANCES AND CHANGES.
BY THE HON. HENRY COKE,
A RIDE OVER THE ROCKY MOUNTAINS."
IN THREE VOLUMES.
HURST AND BLACKETT, PUBLISHERS,
13, GREAT MARLBOROUGH STREET.
HIGH AND LOW.
It would please us to remain a little longer at Mossbank, but during the lapse of time necessary to the recovery of Miss Bellerby's peace of mind, so many little events took place elsewhere, all-important because of their connection with the principal actors of this drama, that we must even leave Mary Bellerby in the midst of her troubles, to follow Pierce's progress in Town through the midst of his, which were so much greater.
As there is no place like home, there is no
place like London when it is a home; but when not a home, there are few places more desolate. So long as Pierce had been the occupier of a spacious set of apartments on the first floor, in the Albany Chambers, with a housemaid, a porter, and a valet in his establishment, surrounded by all the indoor luxuries of the choicest furniture, books, pianofortes, &c., and having, within a stone's throw, the out-door comforts of two or three of the most fashionable clubs, he had found London as pleasant a home as he wished for.
It made very little difference to him at what season of the year he lived in London. If in summer, he had admission to any society he chose to enter ; if in winter, he had his clique at the clubs, or his originals, professionals, and nondescribables out of the clubs. If indisposed for all else, he had plenty of resources, and always the means of indulging them. In short, London had been his home, and he always returned to it with this feeling, which made
amends for quitting the country even at those times when the country is most enjoyable.
With what different sensations he now entered the crowded city! It was still his home, no longer by choice, but by compulsion. There were no Albany Chambers to look forward to, no easy sofas and assiduous valet, no grand pianoforte, no club dinners, no select breakfast parties in his own rooms, no opera-boxes, no brougham, no riding in the park, no tennis, no anything that was pleasant; but, on the contrary, everything that was unpleasant. He had not even a fixed lodging: all his things were at where Mr. Court had placed them as directed. He had been to the Albany. The porter gave him a packet of letters. His rooms were bare to the walls: the warrant had been put into execution, and carpets, curtains, pictures, beds, bureaus, tables, chairs, fenders, fire-irons -every moveable thing—had been seized and carried off. From the porter he learnt that several