master does not marry at all?-perhaps, too, he may be going abroad-why then, what should we do? I should not like you to be lady's-maid to an unmarried lieutenant, don't you see?" 'No, I don't see," said Sally. "Give up his service, and I'll give up mine, and we will try and better ourselves, and set up a shop."

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"A shop!" said Tom. "Isn't that low? Shopkeeper don't sound well."

"Sound well!" said Sally. "I think it sounds uncommon well. Half the great people in England are shop-keepers."

"Yes, Sally," said Tom, "but we should never be great people. As it is, you see, here we are: the Lieutenant finds me clothes, meat, drink, and lodging, and pays me four-andtwenty pounds a-year for eating his mutton, sitting by his fire, reading his books, drinking his wine, carrying his letters, and walking about with you. Miss Fanny is nearly as civil to you. Now, suppose we resign promiscuously-as the great folks say, throw up office,-and start, like Romulus and Remus in Shakspeare's Paradise Lost,

"The world before us where to choose.'

Well, Sally, we choose-Gosport, for instance"Gos" exclaimed Sally.

"Well, not Gosport," interrupted Tom. "I only mentioned Gosport because it first came incontinently into my head; and

we marry

66

دو

Well, I'm sure, Tom " said Sally.

"Oh, yes, Sally," said Tom, "I mean all that. Well, and before we marry

“Well?" said Sally anxiously. "What before we marry?" "We settle upon some genteel occupation," said Tom, “in the green-grocery line, for instance. Table-beer sold here,' eh? Or, in the chandlery, Licensed to deal in pepper, tea, and tobacco,' or whatever it may be. So much for coming in and fixtures-then we must furnish;-then comes the rentthe taxes-stock to buy-mutton bread-butter-beer(sherry, port, and madeira wholly out of the question)—coals -candles-salt-mustard-every thing in the mortal world, and no wages whatever."

"But then one is independent," said Sally.

"So far as having nothing to depend upon," said Tom, "No, Sally, don't let us be in a hurry; let us see how the land lies. This matter betwixt my master and Miss has been off before, it may come on again. I'll go, as he bids me.

I'll find out all how and about it at our Aunt's and write you a full, true, and particular account of the whole preliminaries. I should be glad if we could manage so as to continue with him, if it can be done with propriety Sally, for, although he does not seem aware of it, I assure you, my dear charymee, he has a treasure of a servant in Thomas Lazenby."

"But, then, Tom," said Miss Kerridge, (who was really very fond of her " young ladies," "supposing the Captain marries somebody else?"

"There you have hit it, Sally," said Tom; "that's it. Why, then, and in that case, you know, we could both favour them incontinently with our attentions."

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What, and leave Miss Fanny ?" said Sally.

"We won't talk of that now," said Tom; "it mayn't be necessary. We may be all wrong, and all may come right at last; so, as the sergeant is waiting, and the chaise ready, I'll be off, and by this very night's post I'll write. What, Sally; d'ye think I won't?" added Tom, with one of those looks which invariably lead to a practical result.

The answer was given-not in words-and after this chaste salute, Tom ran off towards his master's late lodgings, Sally's eyes never quitting the object of her affections till an envious corner hid him from her gaze.

“He_will_write," said Sally to herself, as she walked towards the Rectory at a pace that would have indicated to any observer the agitation of her mind;-"I know he will write; and if his master is going to be married-but he cannot-well, I won't think of that-I-no-I could not leave the young ladies-yet-I love Tom-and-oh, dear, dear! I declare, I have forgot Miss Fanny's crape after all," and suddenly turning herself about, Sally Kerridge hurried back to Twig and Dilberry's, the Swan and Edgar's of Blissfold, where she encountered the weeping Kitty buying love of one of the shop-boys under the fostering auspices of the apothecary's wife.

The result of the parting promise of Tom to Miss Kerridge was his complete exposure of Lieutenant Merman's conduct throughout the affair with Fanny. On the following day the promised letter came, and having been read and re-read by those bright eyes to which it was specially addressed, was brought up to Miss Wells by her faithful maid, who, irritated to the highest pitch by the conduct of the Lieutenant to her Tom, suddenly resolved on "showing the soger officer up" to her young lady, not calculating that, however consolatory Miss Fanny's entire separation from him might in consequence

be, the memory of his deceit and defection would necessarily prey heavily upon her mind.

"Miss Fanny," said Kerridge, entering the room pensively, her eyes red with crying, "I beg you a thousand pardons, but I do think you ought to know what a vile wretch that Captain Merman is."

"Kerridge," said Fanny, "do you know whom you are speaking to?"

"Yes, Miss Fanny, to you-dear Miss Fanny, to you," said Sally; "do you know he has turned away Tom?"

"Who is Tommy?" said Fanny.

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My Tommy, Miss Fanny," said Kerridge, "Your Tommy !" said Miss Wells.

"Yes, Miss, my Tommy, his Tommy;" and Kerridge burst into tears: "however, I haven't turned him off-nor has he turned me off-and, I dare say, he'll be here to-morrow; but that is not it, Miss-it is about his brute of a master-thank goodness, he is not his master-it's about you, Miss. The way he has treated you, Miss. Oh! shameful."

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Why, Kerridge," said Fanny, "you are mad, I think.". "Not I, Miss," said Sally. "Here, Miss, do take and read this letter."

"Who is it from?" said Fanny.

"It is from Tommy, Miss," replied Sally; "but it will tell you the whole story.'

"I really cannot think of doing any such thing," said Fanny; "and I must beg you to leave me, and take your letter with you, and I desire you will not talk in this manner again."

"I mean no harm, Miss," said the poor girl, “indeed I don't; but it's so shameful-I can't

59

At this period of the dialogue a slight tap at the door announced a visiter; the "Come in" of Fanny was followed by the appearance of her father, who had some communication to make, but who drew back upon seeing Miss Kerridge in tears. "What is the matter?" said Wells.

"Oh, nothing, Sir," said the weeping damsel; "only, Sir, I have had a letter from Thomas, and it tells all about the Captain, and I wish my young lady to read it, and she won't: perhaps you will, Sir; indeed you should, for you don't know half what a man he is."

"Well," said my father-in-law, "although I entirely approve of your young lady's refusal to read the letter, I am sure you are actuated by the best motives."

"Ay, that I am, Sir," said Sally, wiping her eyes in a delicate muslin apron.

"And if you think the family ought to be made acquainted with its contents, I will read it. Who is it from did you say ?" My Thomas, Sir," said Kerridge, colouring very red. "Your Thomas ?" said Mr. Wells.

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"Yes, Sir," said Sally; "I will tell you all that another time, Sir; "we have to ask you about it, Sir; but-Sir-he is the Captain's servant.”

"Captain!" said Wells, who was just in the humour to put down Merman, and put up any body else; "call him Lieutenant, child-and don't cry. Is Thomas the man who used to sit in your pew at church?"

"Yes, Sir," said Kerridge; "he never missed twice a day every Sunday-besides the winter six o'clock lecture."

“Well,” said my father-in-law, "leave the letter in my hands, and I will tell you what I think of Thomas when I have read it."

"Oh, it isn't of him, Sir," said Sally, "you won't think any harm, I know, for there is not any kind of harm in him, Sir; if there had been, he would not have been so well thought of by me.

"Well, Kerridge," said the Rector, "I again say I thank you for your anxiety about my daughter. You shall have your letter back in a few minutes."

"Thank you, Sir," said Kerridge, and she turned to leave the room; but just as she had got to the door a sudden thought seemed to strike her, and turning quickly round she looked wistfully in Wells's face, and said, with all the naïveté imaginable, "I beg your pardon, Sir,-please don't look at the little bit that's under the fold of the direction."

"Rely upon me, Kerridge," said the Rector; and Kerridge evanished.

Whether Wells read the letter while in Fanny's room, or in her presence, I do not recollect; all I know is that he showed it to me, having posted up to Ashmead expressly for the purpose. I hastily copied it all, except "the little bit under the fold," which I held sacred-at least as far as transcribing went.

"Diansgrove,

18-.

"According to promise dear Sarah I write although I have but little time to spare. First and foremost, I shall be out of the Captain's service before this time to-morrow-he has no fault to find with me, he says, and will give me an excellent character but he does not wish for particular reasons that I should continue with him-which particular rea

sons is merely and promiscuously this, namely that I know all his goings on with Miss Fanny-and the way in which he has behaved, which between you and me and the bed-post turns out to be most shocking. If I was to treat you in corresponding style you would annihilate me, and I would deserve it but I won't dear Sarah-never.

"What do you think-I knew something was going wrong as I told you by his leaving me behind when he came here on his first visit to Miss Penfeather or whatever his aunt's name is when he made ready to present himself to Miss Malooney-I don't exactly know the topography of her name -she was non compos as they say, that is, nowhere to be found-upon which his aunt was in a pretty quandary and fell into high streaks and was miscellaneously distractedmind I had the whole of the pedigree from one of Mrs. Pennefeather's maids called Susan, who was an eye-witness to the entire transaction.

"Well-Miss Malooney you understand, had evaporated out of the house before dinner and continued in that state for three days, having wrote a letter to Miss Pennefeather to say she would not have my master if his skin was stuffed with guineas, for she had given her heart to another-a tall stout gentleman (unless I misunderstand Susan) with green earings-I knew he was an Irishman and I think that was what Susan said he wore-but I have been here only so few hours that I think I must simultaneously astonish you to think how I have contrived to get into all their little secrets so

soon.

"Well dear Sarah so, this being the case and Miss Malooney gone, my master couldn't marry her because she wouldn't have him, and because besides that she was irrecoverably out of the way-so-Miss Penfeather or whatever it is, told him-mind I had this from Susan who has been helping me to put the Captain's room to rights-for the last time but one indiscriminately, Sarah dear-that she would give him half the ten thousand pounds-that is after her death, that he was to have had during his life with Miss Malooney -and he might marry incontinently and surreptitiously any body he pleased-and with that, dear Sarah he went back to me and the Parsonage and whistled the business on again relying upon the inflexible tuberosity of Miss Fanny's affection for him.

"Now, comes the elasticity of the co-operation. Back he comes as we know dear, Miss Fanny instinctively receives him again into her favour upon the incipient principle and up