'Ask your violin, Will. Ask your music. Ask the play upon the stage what women most desire. Oh! Foolish youth! they ask what you have given to Alice--they ask the happiness of love.' If the time was long to those who watched and waited, it was worse for her who suffered. I believe if I remember aright that our poor Jenny spent five or perhaps six weeks in that noisome cell; her cheek, as I have said, grew thin and pale from the bad air and the confinement; but her courage she never lost for a single day. She asked for no consolations and desired no soothing to alleviate the weariness of her prison. Of those fine ladies who called before she was tried not one came now: nor did any of the actresses, her old friends and rivals, visit her. They came before the trial, just as they visit a notorious robber, because it is interesting to gape upon a person who stands in the great danger of a trial for his life, or has done some daring act of villainy, or is about to undergo some terrible ordeal. When her trial was over and it became certain in everybody's mind that, although the woman had pleaded guilty: although she was condemned: she would not suffer the capital sentence, the interest of the public in the case rapidly declined and in a few days ceased wholly: the great ladies ran after other excitements: they sent letters to the new singer: they sent rings to their favourite actor: they crowded the prison of the fashionable highwaymen: the actresses, for their part, reflected that they would probably have Jenny back among them before long casting them all in the shade: so they left off calling: the portrait painters went elsewhere after studies likely to be popular. Truly it was a lamentable instance of the breath of popular favour fickle and uncertain. 'The Case of Clarinda' was forgotten as soon as people had made up their minds that Clarinda was not to be hanged, although she had screened her mother and pleaded guilty and received sentence of death.