"That was a very great pity," observed Chichester.
"I can show you the original copy and the first proof, if you like," continued Mr. Jones; "and you may then judge for yourself how far I was justified in being angry with the printers."
Mr. Chichester of course expressed the utmost curiosity to see the poem and the proof; and the favour was conceded by Mr. Jones, after some slight opposition on the part of Clarissa, who thought that such a display was improper in respect to a lady "in her situation."
The papers were, however, handed over to Mr. Chichester, who began by reading aloud the following manuscript copy of verses:—
TO CLARISSA JEMIMA.
Oh! sweet Clarissa—ever dearest love!
What palpitations does my fond heart prove
When thy coy hand I press!
Who can depict th' ineffable delight
With which thy glances break upon the night