ld stone steps
have restored MR. SPIKER to life and consciousness! He is coming to
denounce me--you--both of us! He is awfully annoyed!

_Sir P. (recklessly)._ It is useless to appeal to me, child. I have
enough to do to look after myself--now! [_Enter_ SPIKER, _indignant_.

[Illustration]

_Spiker._ Pretty treatment for a gentleman, this! Look here, POSHBURY,
this young lady has choked me with a cushion, and then pitched me down
the front steps--I might have broken my neck!

_Sir P._ It was an oversight which I lament, but for which I must
decline to be answerable. You must settle your differences with her.

_Spiker._ And you, too, old horse! _You_ had a hand in this, I know,
and I'll pay you out for it now. My life ain't safe if I marry a girl
like that, so I've made up my mind to split, and be done with it!

_Sir P. (contemptuously)._ If you don't, BLETHERS _will_. So do your
worst, you hound!

_Spiker._ Very well, then; I will. (_To the rest._) I denounce this
man for travelling with a half-ticket from Edgware Road to Baker
Street on his thirteenth birthday, the 31st of March, twenty-seven
years ago this very day. [_Sensation._

_Blethers._ Hear me; it was _not_ his thirteenth birthday! Sir
POSHBURY'S birthday falls on the 1st of April--_to-morrow!_ I was
sent to register the birth, and, by a blunder, which I have repented
bitterly ever since, unfortunately gave the wrong date. Till this
moment I have never had the manliness or sincerity to confess my
error, for fear of losing my situation.

_Sir P. (to_ SPIKER). Do you hear, you paltry knave? I was _not_
thirteen. Consequently, I was under age, and the Bye-laws are still
unbroken. Your hold over me is gone--gone for ever!

_Spiker._ H'm--SPIKER spiked this time! [_Retires up disconcerted._

_Lord Bl._ And you did not really love him, after all, VERBENA?

_Verb. (with arch pride)._ Have I not proved my indifference?

_Lord Bl._ But I forget--you admitted that you were but trifling with
my affection--take back your pin-cushion.

_Verb._ Keep it. All that I did was done to spare my father!

_Sir Posh._ Who, as a matter of fact, was innocent--but I forgive you,
child, for your unworthy suspicions. BLESHUGH, my boy, you have saved
me from unnecessarily depriving myself of the services of an old
retainer. BLETHERS, I condone a dissimulation for which you have done
much to atone. SPIKER, you vile and miserable rascal, be off, and be
thankful that I