She learned, however, to set some value upon her own power of self-command. She could not help feeling that the unrestrained sorrow of Blanche lost in dignity what it gained in publicity. Mason knew all about it; and frequently alluded to poor Miss Somerton with pity; and to Mr. Watkins with all the violence which a waiting-woman is pretty sure to feel towards a man who has thwarted a young lady in her laudable endeavours to get married. In two or three days Margaret was happy to find that Blanche could talk of waltzing without a sigh; and her mamma might safely count threads from thirty to forty without awakening any painful reflections. But there ensued another annoyance to poor Margaret. Whenever she was alone with Blanche, which was the greatest part of the day, Mr. Watkins was the one topic of conversation. When she had heard all about his boots, and his eyes, and his way of carving a chicken, and his wastefulness in gloves, (a great merit in the eyes of Blanche,) she naturally hoped that they had come to an end of the list; but it is quite surprising the number of little anecdotes which this gentleman furnished. There were all his jokes to repeat; and these were so exceedingly stupid, that they really did make Margaret smile sometimes. And then there were several stories of dishonest actions, which she was expected to laugh at, but which she could not, for very disgust. Once he had taken in a Jew; this was his chef-d'[oe]uvre; and twice he had cheated a friend in the sale of a horse; and Blanche thought this greatly enhanced his merit, and her loss. She became rather tearful when she mentioned the last theft; but she presently recovered herself, and turned the conversation upon a satin pelisse she was about to buy. In fact, the future and the past pretty equally divided her mind. The loss of Mr. Watkins, and the arrangement of her dresses for the autumn. "Do you know, the last time poor Watkins called, he was so intoxicated!" cried Blanche. "I was afraid my uncle would have noticed it; but, fortunately, he only came in for a few minutes; for Watkins staid to luncheon. I never shall forget his trying to carve the cold lamb." "Then that was the reason," said Margaret, hesitating, "that you broke with him." "Mercy on me, my dear! where were you brought up;" cried Blanche, laughing. "What! break with a man because he was a little intoxicated? Not I, believe me!" Margaret found plenty of things to astonish her in Miss Somerton; but she was a little more startled than usual at this remark. She thought of the disgust she would have felt if she had ever seen Mr. Haveloc intoxicated. She viewed Blanche's attachment as a sort of natural phenomenon.