inflammable a young creacher. Heavn bless us, it was
a marycle she wasn't earlier married! I do bleave (from suttn seans
that past betwigst us) that she'd have married me, if she hadn't been
sejuiced by the supearor rank and indianuity of the genlmn in whose
survace I was.

Well, to use a commin igspreshn, the beaks were after him. How was he to
manitch? He coodn get away from his debts, and he wooden quit the fare
objict of his affeckshns. He was ableejd, then, as the French say, to
lie perdew,--going out at night, like a howl out of a hivy-bush, and
returning in the daytime to his roast. For its a maxum in France (and I
wood it were followed in Ingland), that after dark no man is lible for
his detts; and in any of the royal gardens--the Twillaries, the Pally
Roil, or the Lucksimbug, for example--a man may wander from sunrise to
evening, and hear nothing of the ojus dunns: they an't admitted into
these places of public enjyment and rondyvoo any more than dogs; the
centuries at the garden-gates having orders to shuit all such.

Master, then, was in this uncomfrable situation--neither liking to go
nor to stay! peeping out at nights to have an interview with his miss;
ableagd to shuffle off her repeated questions as to the reason of all
this disgeise, and to talk of his two thowsnd a year jest as if he had
it and didn't owe a shilling in the world.

Of course, now, he began to grow mighty eager for the marritch.

He roat as many noats as she had done befor; swoar against delay and
cerymony; talked of the pleasures of Hyming, the ardship that the ardor
of two arts should be allowed to igspire, the folly of waiting for the
consent of Lady Griffin. She was but a step-mother, and an unkind one.
Miss was (he said) a major, might marry whom she liked; and suttnly had
paid Lady G. quite as much attention as she ought, by paying her the
compliment to ask her at all.

And so they went on. The curious thing was, that when master was pressed
about his cause for not coming out till night-time, he was misterus;
and Miss Griffin, when asked why she wooden marry, igsprest, or rather,
DIDN'T igspress, a simlar secrasy. Wasn't it hard? the cup seemed to be
at the lip of both of 'em, and yet somehow, they could not manitch to
take a drink.

But one morning, in reply to a most desprat epistol wrote by my master
over night, Deuceace, delighted, gits an answer from his soal's beluffd,
which ran thus:--

MISS GRIFFIN TO THE HON. A.