"Success next time, and greater care to secure it," was all he said; and he hastened to have the rubbish cleared away, recompense the workmen for their lost labour, and that very night "sweep the heavens" with his old instrument, and enter into the most animated conversation on the nebulae with his chief and constant friend, Sir William Watson. Everyone must have noticed how quickly events, whether sorrowful or joyful, are forgotten. The wonder-wave which rolls over a city or town, at the report of any great mercantile failure, or the discovery of dishonest dealing in a man who has held a responsible position, soon ebbs! This is even more true of private griefs affecting families and individuals. Griefs which leave a lifelong scar on the few, or on _one_ sufferer, are speedily forgotten by the outside world. This ebb and flow, a poet has well said, is the law to which we must all bow. None can escape from it. Pity, however sincere, is soon exhausted, and fresh cares of bereavement and loss, or sorrow, start up to excite a passing sympathy, while others are crowded out and forgotten. The duel between Sir Maxwell Danby and Leslie Travers was a nine days' wonder. It was the favourite topic in the Pump Room for that time, but scarcely longer. At first it was reported that Leslie Travers was dead; then, indeed, there were conjectures about Sir Maxwell's escape, and wonderment as to whether he would be pursued and captured, as Count Rice had been, and tried for murder. But when it was found that Leslie Travers was likely to live, the interest in the matter visibly declined. Lady Betty reappeared in the Pump Room and at the balls, and to all inquiries said Miss Mainwaring had left her, that she was no relation to her, and that she had very properly considered it better to return to the station in life whence dear Mr. Longueville, in the nobleness of his heart, had rescued her! Lent came, and was followed by a bright Easter. The Bath season was over, and the principal event of that season was almost forgotten. The _elite_ left the City of the West, or if they remained, there were no public assemblies at which they might display their jewels and varied costumes. It is needless to say that Lady Betty took her departure, as it was considered "the mode" to do so; and report said young Lord Basingstoke had made it evident that he had no serious intentions, by leaving Bath some time before the vivacious little widow deserted No. 6, North Parade. Perhaps few noticed, or made more than a passing remark of wonder, when a paragraph in the _Bath Gazette_ announced the marriage of Leslie Travers, of the Grange, county Lincoln, to Griselda, daughter of Adolphus Mainwaring, and Phyllis, his wife.