fashionable circle? The secret exultation with which the fortunehunters of high life rubbed their hands, and realised in their imaginations an Utopia of ingots? The basilisk eye with which aristocratic matrons, with extensive pedigrees and limited purses, marked them for their own, and pinched their younger sons? The jealousy with which belles un peu passées bridled themselves up, and, comparing the somewhat dubious claims of the Devonshire ladies with their own, to birth, family, but, alas! not fortune, regarded them with invidious looks of what they chose to consider the loftiest contempt.

Mr. Grandeville Beverley was a very distinguished person. Allied to some of the first families in the kingdom, initiated in all the mysteries of fashionable life, and having the entrée into the very foremost circles, it was his great present object to replenish a wasted fortune, by uniting himself in marriage with some rich and beautiful heiress. He had for some time past survived the passion of love, having buried his second wife but a few months before; and it may readily be supposed therefore, that

at his age The hey-day in his blood was tame, was humble,

And waited on the judgment!

Good landed and other securities were the grand object of his ambition; but it stopped not there. Mr. Beverley was a great and undoubted connoisseur of female beauty; and indeed his opinion in such matters was generally looked to as a final decision. In all this there was nothing extraordinary--nothing to distinguish him from the vile herd of fortunehunters of persons whose highest ambition it is "to be made men of by their wives," to crawl out of the caterpillar into the butterfly state through the genial summer of a female fortune. And such men are to be seen about the court, familiarly resorting to the palace of the sovereign-endowed with no mental quality (and but few personal) which could make their presence an accession to any circle.

But what was extraordinary about

Mr. Grandeville Beverley, was the superb magnificence of his person. Standing just six feet high, made à merveille, dressed to a turn, whiskered to perfection, moustached and chin-tufted in a style of the most dashing elegance, displaying a most splendid head of hair (for which the malicious undoubtedly alleged him to be indebted to Truefitt and Delcroix), together with unimpeachable tights, dancing with remarkable grace, pattering into ladies' ears from the back of their ottomans the most exquisite "unconsidered trifles touching the guitar with something of the air, at least, of a connoisseur, singing the prettiest French romans with a very insinuating low tenor voice, and capable of turning feminine music-leaves in the exact nick of time-such a man was a treasure, not less in the ball-room than at musical soirées; and if his conversation at morning calls was "truly delightful," not less so was the exquisite ridicule of every person and every thing with which he spiced his afternoon rides, in gallant attendance upon the fair.

Mr. Grandeville Beverley was not slow both to perceive and to avail himself of the opportunity which now opened before him of attaining his wishes, with respect both to beauty and fortune. In the eldest Miss Falconer he perceived the very realization of his fondest hopes. Tall, finely made, and even luxuriously developed, she was, in his own expression, "a really superb woman ;" and, if not accomplished to the very highest pitch of perfection, her natural artlessness and slight rusticity of manner gave but added piquance to her attractions. To her, therefore, he attached himself for the rest of the evening with unremitting assiduitynot omitting, however, to ascertain, in the first instance, that it was "all right," by a brief but convincing téteà-tête with the fashionable hostess.

Supper was concluded, at which, by the way, the attentions of Mr. Beverley to Miss Falconer were so flattering and even marked, that the access of all the other fashionable sparks was completely debarred. Accordingly, these lesser lights played round the charms of Miss Falconer's

younger sisters. I very much doubt whether any other young ladies in the whole suite of rooms danced so many sets with distinguished partners as the lovely Devonshire heiresses.

Les delices de la musique were re-, sorted to after supper; the last gems of the Opera were re-produced, and unimpaired (it was asserted) in their brilliancy. Beverley was superbly sweet in his execution of a French Pastoral; and it was doubted whether his guitar had ever twanged before with half so much spirit. But how were all eyes concentrated-all ears erected, when Miss Falconer was led to the piano-forte by the amiable hostess; and gave in succession two most enchanting English ballads, with ravishing sweetness and simplicity. Beverley's conquest was complete; the writ of his imprisonment for life was sealed. Miss Falconer had no other partner for the remainder of the evening; and the spirit with which both danced was the admiration of the entire circle. Beverley had evidently made a rapid progress in the lady's affections. It was quite palpable that il l'emporta sur tout le monde. Of the champagne at supper the lady had drank rather freely, which was attributed to the eccentricity of her father's process of training. In the intervals of dancing, Beverley's lips were as close to her ear as les bienséances could possibly permit; and the condescending interest which the lady had begun to take in all that concerned him, was made rather startlingly apparent by the admiration which she expressed upon one occasion for the cut and pattern of his waistcoat. They waltzed together, and Beverley was in intoxicated ecstasies. The last coup d'archet was given by the leader of the orchestra. Beverley nearly danced himself into a delirium tremens. The ball broke up, and he slept not a wink that day, his entire soul being wrapped up in contemplation of his bonne partie !

A month rolled by, which was spent in one continued round of the most delicate attentions on the part of Beverley to the Devonshire heiress. They met at every party; for the fame of the debutantes' beauty

and wealth, united to a certain degree of piquant mystery which attached itself to their names, had procured them invitations in the highest quarters. They danced, sang, flirted, laughed, and presently proved excellent hands at the construction of jeux de mots. Every body was enchanted; the bashfulness of their country breeding had evidently worn itself almost completely away; and the only embarrassment of the younger ladies was to choose for themselves amongst such a host of admirers.

As for Mr. Grandeville Beverley and the superb Miss Falconer, vows of endless love had been already exchanged betwixt them; and the prospect of a speedy union had been glanced at by the gentleman, and not ill-received by the lady, whose preference for Beverley was so very decided, that it was plain (so perfectly natural was she in her manners) that she would not have shrunk even from the éclat of an elopement. Beverley took his measures for preventing the possibility of a disappointment with all the shrewdness of a genuine man of the world. Upon one indispensable preliminary point he had completely satisfied himself. He had ascertained from the lady's own lips, that her property was settled upon her beyond the power of controul; what better evidence could he desire?

To make any preliminary application to her papa might, considering the eccentricity of the old gentleman's character, be attended with fatal consequences. Mr. Grandeville Beverley resolved to make himself independent of a foolish old man's caprice; the more especially as Miss Falconer, when with admirable delicacy he touched upon this point, protested her "great dread, from her papa's peculiar notions on these matters," &c. &c. Accordingly, to prevent accidents, Mr. Grandeville Beverley was quietly married to Miss Falconer at St. George's, Hanover Square, on a fine morning in April (some will account it an odd circumstance, that it should have been the first day of that interesting month), and off this pair of turtles set for Paris, in a beautiful travelling car

riage, for which the reputation of Mr. Beverley's conquest had readily procured him credit with the most approved house in Long Acre.

It was the sixth day after the arrival of the "happy pair" in Paris, that Beverley, leaving his lady somewhat indisposed, strolled out in the evening to the Boulevard des Italiens to enjoy the fresh air, and feeling an envie to take an ice, entered Tortoni's. Arrived at the saloon up stairs, the first object which his eyes fell on was an old college friend.

"Ah, Wilmot, how have you been since we last met?"

“Beverley, as I live! My dear fellow, permit me to felicitate you upon your good fortune." And he shook the other's hand with great fervour.

"But how-❞

My dear fellow, not a word! I have heard it all-how you clinched the business in a month. And an heiress of no common pretension, too !"

“Upon my life, my dear fellow, £30,000 in her own right; and a handsome annuity besides."

"And very pretty, too, I am informed."

"Perfection, my dear boy? But you shall judge for yourself."

"Greatly obliged, my dear Beverley; and the more so, as I shall probably be able to lay claim to an ancient acquaintance. I, too, am from Devonshire; but I don't happen to have heard her name. Of what family?"

"Falconer; a very ancient name." "Falconer! Falconer! how singular that I should not be able to remember; I thought I knew all the gentry in my county."

"Oh," responded Beverley, with a peculiarly knowing look, "easily accounted for. Her father very eccentric-never mixed himself up in the affairs of the county, though rich as Croesus!"

"But the name! How odd that I never should have heard it before."

"There are more things in heaven and earth, Horatio,

Than are dreamt of in your philosophy.'

It had just struck six on the ensuing evening, when Wilmot rang the outer bell of Beverley's suite of apartments in the Rue de Rivoli, and was admitted by a very smartly dressed "Jockei Anglais,' as our Tigers are designated by the Parisians. He was shown into a very cheerful and elegantly furnished room, which overlooked the orange-trees and statues, and fountains, and well-dressed promenaders of the garden of the Tuileries. Mr. Beverley, he was informed, had not yet finished dressing, but would descend very speedily. Wilmot amused himself by examining some very beautiful engravings and specimens of vertu which adorned the apartment. He was busily engaged in the contemplation of a capital croquis by Soissons, in which the "marriage à-la-mode" of our English Hogarth was presented in a French dress; and while he was laughing most lustily at the successful wooing of a Robert Macaire, the door was thrown open, and his senses intoxicated by a most enchanting vision of loveliness.

It was the bride herself, who, arrayed in a beautiful evening dress, supplied by Madame Toussaud's establishment in the Rue de la Paix, made her entrée in a style of the most witching elegance. As, in curtseying to him, she exhibited her admirable figure to the utmost_advantage, Wilmot could not help

thinking that he had seen that lovely face before. But where? This was the rub.

As the beautiful vision approached, memory came to his aid with the suddenness of a dream. The recognition was mutual, and occurred at the same instant. The lady grew pale as her bridal dress, and faltered

What,-Betsy!" he exclaimed. Mrs. Beverley fainted away! Wilmot caught her in his arms, just as she was reaching the floor, and extended her at full length on a neighbouring ottoman.

At this instant, Beverley made his How shall I appearance at the door. attempt to paint his distraction? It was less like any thing else in the world than the frantic aberrations of a madman!

Explanations were demanded, and at first politely declined-again demanded, and ambiguously responded

to.

"By G-, I shall know all !" roared out Beverley, in quite a ferocious state of excitement.

"You will be terribly displeased, if I tell you," was Wilmot's quiet rejoinder.

"Displeasing, or not displeasing," was Beverley's reply, "I charge you to tell me all, upon the allegiance of our early friendship!"

Mrs. Beverley, quite revived, and, acutely sensible, was sobbing on the sofa.

Beverley drew Wilmot to one of the casements, and implored him, by every thing most sacred, not to let him "burst in ignorance," but reveal whatever he knew concerning his lady.

Thus appealed to, Wilmot disclosed without hesitation that he knew nothing whatever that could

impeach the lady's moral character; but that she was no heiress as he could positively testify; but bred up to an honest handicraft in Exeter, and, not longer back than six months, a very industrious workwoman, being a most excellent tailoress, and having made the very smart waistcoat which Wilmot then wore!

Had a burning sword been plunged into Beverley's ear, and drawn athwart his brain, he could not have been more utterly horrified. The very strange remark which she had made upon his own waistcoat at the ball recurred at once to his mind; and served for

"Confirmation strong As proofs from Holy Writ." Death and confusion! What, he!a man of fashion-a man of the world-"the observed of all observers!" to have been thus "bilked" by a vile, &c. &c. &c. It was too much; but the lady very quietly reminded him of his nuptial engagement, said something rather disagreeable about "for better, for worse," and, in the event of his forgetting that useful precept, gave him a very intelligible hint about legal proceedings!

I need not proceed further with this new history of "the Biter Bit," judging it better to draw a veil over the scenes of domestic bickerings and heart-burnings which ensued, and continued without intermission from that hour.

Beverley had met with the fate which he richly deserved, and which I should have no objection to see fall to the lot of a few others of his contemptible class. The introduction of the Misses Falconer to society had been managed by their maternal aunt, a shrewd and intriguing milliner.