r._ Your son will soon offer a satisfactory explanation. It is
most true that the liberty I have taken with you is most essential to my
happiness.

_Adm._ (_going up and lifting his cane_). The devil it is! but not to
all parties, Captain Mertoun; and I am sorry to say this to any friend
of my son's--but you are a d----d impudent puppy, and I expect
satisfaction.

_Capt. Eth._ That you shall have, sir, from me, who requested Captain
Mertoun to follow that line of conduct. Do me the favour to retire to
the library.

_Adm._ You requested him to insult your father? I am not so old as to be
insulted with impunity; and I hope, as you are a party, that the
explanation will be satisfactory. (_Walks about in a rage._) Captain
Mertoun, you'll excuse us. There are the grounds, and as you have been
so very assiduous to fall out with me, you may be equally so to fall in
with Lady Etheridge. (_Bowing in derision very low, then exit, attended
by Captain Etheridge._)

_Capt. Mer._ Well, this is excellent, that a man, who is henpecked till
he has not a decent feather left, should be jealous about such a woman.
But I feel assured that Etheridge will make all right. I shall take the
advice of the old gentleman, and walk about the grounds, perhaps, as he
says, I may fall in with Lady Etheridge and improve my acquaintance.
[_Exit._

_Scene II._

_The Gipsy encampment in the wood._

_Nelly comes forward._

_Nelly._ Lady Etheridge, you spurned me! you chased me from your doors!
what! shall humanity in any shape be worried by your pampered dogs? when
youth was fresh upon our brows, our steps light upon the green, and our
hearts still more light with innocence, had then the Lady Etheridge more
admirers than the poor outcast gipsy, Nelly Armstrong? Have you
forgotten your origin, proud lady of the Hall? Had his partial eyes
fallen upon me when Sir Gilbert chose his wife from among the cottage
maidens, and you, proud lady, had come hungry and in rags to my door,
should I have unslipped the hounds upon your cry for charity? No, no,
no! You have given insult--expect retaliation. But here comes one of my
instruments. Unbend, Eleanor Armstrong, from this lofty carriage, and be
again the miserable--the cheating gipsy.

_Enter young Bargrove._

_Nelly._ A fine morning, most fortunate sir.

_Peter._ Well, my good woman, have you found it out?

_Nelly._ What, youth of a brilliant horoscope, do you mean the starlit
mystery? It is revea