be construed into an overlooking of this very extraordinary
affair.'

'Well, well, my good sir,' said the earl, smiling, and still maintaining
the equanimity of his temper, 'judge of me as charitably as you can. In
the morning, we shall meet, I trust, better friends.' Saying this, he
took up one of the candles which were on the table before him, bade the
professor a polite and respectful good night, and retired to his own
apartment.

The earl had no sooner withdrawn than Mr. Lockerby, after collecting
himself a little, commenced inditing a letter to the Countess Dowager of
Wistonbury, apprising her of what had just occurred. In speaking,
however, of the 'degrading' connection which her son had made, the
honest man's sense of justice compelled him to add a qualifying
explanation of the term which he had employed--'degrading, I mean,' he
said, '_in point of wealth, rank, and accomplishments_; for, in all
other respects, in conduct and character, in temper and disposition,
and, above all, in personal appearance--for she is certainly eminently
beautiful--I must admit that her superior may not easily be found.'

The letter that contained these remarks, with the other information
connected with it, the professor despatched on the same night on which
it was written; and, having done this, awaited with what composure and
fortitude he could command, the dreadful explosion of aristocratic wrath
and indignation, which, he had no doubt, would speedily follow.

Leaving matters in this extraordinary position in the house of Professor
Lockerby we shall shift the scene, for a moment, to the Countess
Dowager of Wistonbury's sitting apartment in Oxton Hall; and we shall
choose the moment when her favourite footman, Jacob Asterley, has
entered her presence, after his return from a call at the post-office in
the neighbouring village; the time being the second day after the
occurrence just previously related--namely, the despatch to Oxton Hall
of Professor Lockerby's letter.

'Well, Jacob, any letters for me to-day?' said the countess, on the
entrance of that worthy official.

'One, my lady, from Scotland,' replied the servant, deferentially, and,
at the same time, opening the bag in which the letters were usually
carried to and from the post-house.

'Ah! from the earl,' said the countess.

'No, my lady, I rather think not. The address is not in his lordship's
handwriting.'

'Oh! the good Professor Lockerby,' said the countess,