ose he can't ride--suppose he's a tailor. He ain't MY tailor,
though, though I owe him a doosid deal of money. There goes mamma with
that darling nephew and niece of mine. [Enter BULKELEY]. Why haven't you
gone with my lady, you, sir? [to Bulkeley.]

BULKELEY.--My lady have a-took the pony-carriage, sir; Mrs. Bonnington
have a-took the hopen carriage and 'orses, sir, this mornin', which the
Bishop of London is 'olding a confirmation at Teddington, sir, and Mr.
Bonnington is attending the serimony. And I have told Mr. 'Owell, sir,
that my lady would prefer the hopen carriage, sir, which I like the
hexercise myself, sir, and that the pony-carriage was good enough for
Mrs. Bonnington, sir; and Mr. 'Owell was very hinsolent to me, sir; and
I don't think I can stay in the 'ouse with him.

K.--Hold your jaw, sir.

BULKELEY.--Yes, sir. [Exit BULKELEY.]

K.--I wonder who that governess is?--sang rather prettily last
night--wish she'd come and sing now--wish she'd come and amuse me--I've
seen her face before--where have I seen her face?--it ain't at all a bad
one. What shall I do? dammy, I'll read a book: I've not read a book this
ever so long. What's here? [looks amongst books, selects one, sinks down
in easy-chair so as quite to be lost.]

Enter Miss PRIOR.

MISS PRIOR.--There's peace in the house! those noisy children are away
with their grandmamma. The weather is beautiful, and I hope they will
take a long drive. Now I can have a quiet half-hour, and finish that
dear pretty "Ruth"--oh, how it makes me cry, that pretty story.
[Lays down her bonnet on table--goes to glass--takes off cap and
spectacles--arranges her hair--Clarence has got on chair looking at
her.]

K.--By Jove! I know who it is now! Remember her as well as possible.
Four years ago, when little Foxbury used to dance in the ballet over
the water. DON'T I remember her! She boxed my ears behind the scenes,
by jingo. [Coming forward]. Miss Pemberton! Star of the ballet! Light of
the harem! Don't you remember the grand Oriental ballet of the "Bulbul
and the Peri?"

MISS P.--Oh! [screams.] No, n--no, sir. You are mistaken: my name is
Prior. I--never was at the "Coburg Theatre." I--

K. [seizing her hand].--No, you don't, though! What! don't you remember
well that little hand slapping this face? which nature hadn't then
adorned with whiskers, by gad! You pretend you have forgotten little
Foxbury, whom Charley Calverley used to come after, and who used to
dr