monial felicity; but at last he got to a dead under her own protection, and that was to wall which made him turn rather abruptly, compensate for everything. She told him, and then he saw a substantial looking gate and a splendid gas-light, which, of course, could not be there on account of Mr. Phillicody being one of the commissioners for lighting, because the commissioners never favour themselves; but, however it came there, being there, it enabled him to see, on a great wooden board, in most conspicuous characters, "Phillicody, Soapmaker;" and here Lord Killikelly, having first asked his resolution whether he should persevere or give up his travels entirely, and being answered by shame, which took the place of resolution, that he should never give anything up, why then with a very energetic spirit he pulled the bell. quite confidentially, that she hated pride and poverty, and doing so she quite inadvertently looked towards Mrs. Rowland and Veronese; that she abominated people that were stuck up, and then her eye took an oblique direction towards Mr. and Mrs. Adolphus Snookes; that she disliked having company more than anything in the world, but that sometimes you were obliged to ask people; that Mr. and Mrs. Snookes were only recently married, and so they could not help having them; and that of course she was under the necessity of inviting the Rowlands with them; that Mr. Phillicody had gone to one of the spectacle-maker's dinners, and as he hated The scene changed as soon as the gate to have people too, she had invited them opened. A large old-fashioned, respectable all while he was out to get done with it; house, such as any one, who takes the that she had asked her son Mark to come trouble to explore, may find in the meanest home, but Mark hated to be bored, and neighbourhoods of Bermondsey, well would not; but to be sure Mark was a little pointed, well painted, well lighted, well spoiled; every body was so fond of Mark, paved, well swept, well kept, stood before he was so clever, and had such a genius; him in the midst of a large yard, filled with out-houses and business. He was ushered into a good-sized hall, well-floorclothed, and well matted, and filled with the odorous promise of a substantial supper; and amid the music of coffee cups, and the jingling of tea-spoons, and the rattling of plates, and the shrill sound of voices, Lord Killikelly was shown into a parlour where the company were assembled. Nothing could exceed the graciousness of Mrs. Phillicody's reception; she immediately proceeded to drown him in coffee, and entomb him in muffins. Mrs. Rowland's miserable face showed itself capable of a gleam of pleasure at sight of him, though she instantly relapsed into a fear that they should never see him again at their own house, which Lord Killikelly immediately understood to mean an apprehension that he would never come to buy any more pictures. The male and female pair of beauties were sitting, exceedingly well dressed, admiring themselves; Veronese was looking proud, and pale, and miserable; Sophy Snookes was sentimentalising over a blue riband, and Phoebe Phillicody and Harry Hooke saw nothing but each other; though when Mr. Phillicody called upon Phoebe to welcome their new guest, she did graciously lift up her head, and nod to him with an air of condescension, and Harry Hook, following her example, patronisingly added, "O, is that you? how are you?" In fact, Lord Killikelly found himself to be of very little consequence in his present position. He did not quite like to be assigned over to fat Mrs. Phillicody. He had promised himself that he should in his incognito find his true weight in society, but he saw that these people were not capable of estimating him. Mrs. Phillicody had, however, taken him and then, to be sure, whatever people might think, they were related on her side to the first of nobility, though she had married a soapboiler, and that therefore Mark had a right to go into the first of company. Lord Killikelly was, of course, very grateful for this confidence, particularly for that candid avowal of Mr. Phillicody's hatred of company of which he formed a part, and was perfectly crushed under the importance of the soap-boiler's family that was thus allied to nobility; and being fully satisfied with the sample which he had had of his fat lady hostess, he took advantage of the great bustle occasioned by the removal of a mountain of tea-things, and the quantity of superfluous muffins and crumpets, and plain cake, and plumcake, and biscuits, and bread and butter, to transfer his attention to a very pretty specimen of matrimonial coquetry, belonging exclusively to the first three months of the wedded state, being therefore much honeyish, and only a little gallish. "Well, but, love, you were half an hour gone. How could you stay away from me so long?" said Mrs. Adolphus Snookes, in a tone of tender reprehension. "I did not think you would miss me, dear?" Oh, Mr. S., not miss you!” "You were curling your hair, my dear." Mrs. Snookes's imitation anger was changed into some rather more genuine. "Was I, Mr. S. ?" Whether Mr. Snookes had told a secret, or whether there was any crime in curling hair, we presume not to determine, though the fact that it was curled, and that therefore it must have been done by somebody, stared everybody in the face-no, we mean "Was I, Mr. S.?" "Don't call me, Mr. S., my life, because you know that I cannot bear it. You know that I must have my jest, and I only said so to tease you, a little dear, because it makes you look so pretty, and gives you such a fine rouge." Mrs. Snookes pouted. "I was making myself pretty, was I?" "No dear, that you always are." "Well, but now, Adolphus, I will know where you went. I won't be jested out of that, though you are so witty. I will know. Have I not a right to know, Mrs. Phillicody?" All the ladies immediately declared that a wife's right to demand an account of her husband's comings and goings was undoubted and inalienable. 66 Ah, the ladies are always against us. What are we poor men to do but submit? A lady reigns, and by-and-by all the offices of the state will be filled with ladies. We shall have a parliament of ladies. The ladies do everything now-they leave nothing for us poor men." "But I will know where you went." "Were you not glad to get rid of him?” asked Mr. Harry Hooke, kindly imagining the Benedict to be in a dilemma, and endeavouring to make a diversion in his favour. Mrs. Adolphus Snookes looked very tenderly at Mr. Adolphus Snookes, as if she were apostrophising him on the possibility of such a thing, and then, as if she were giving vent to some most exquisite irony, said, O, yes; very glad to get rid of him, indeed!" 66 Mrs. Rowland and Mrs. Phillicody, in a most desperate hurry, both speaking together, and as if they could not articulate fast enough, declared that whatever Mrs. Snookes might think now, she would be very glad to get rid of Mr. Snookes for as long as he liked, and something longer, after they had been married a twelvemonth; at which Mrs. Snookes lifted up her eyes in horror at the blasphemy; Phoebe looked archly at Mr. Harry Hooke; Veronese sighed, but little Sophy Snookes declared that if ever she were married, which of course she did not mean to be, she should expire if her husband ever left her to do more than walk round the garden, which was to be full of lilies, and roses, and jasmine, and eglantine. "Well, then, dear, I'll tell you," said the husband, flattered by the fond interest of his wife, and willing to play upon it to gratify himself further-"I'll tell you." "The truth!" said the lady, with a scrutinising air, as if she could never be cheated. "'Pon my honour!" said the gentleman, as if that were sans reproche. "But she is so pretty, my dear." Mr. Snookes must have his jest. "Pretty! The blowsy!" "Such magnificent black eyes!" "I hate black eyes." "Such shining dark hair!" "Dark hair is out of fashion. Nobody looks at it now." "Such a splendid complexion !" "Milkmaidenish! Paint! A fright!" "Such hands, and such rings !" "Tinsel! trumpery!” "And then she does dress, and she has such manners!" "A tobacconist!" said the lady, with ineffable scorn. "Don't be jealous, dear," said Mr. Snookes, wishing her to be so all the while. By-the-bye, jealousy, like prussic acid, is not disagreeable in small doses. "Jealous!" said Mrs. Adolphus Snookes, as if that were an improbable degradation." Don't be angry, dear." Angry!" said Mrs. Snookes, as if that were a yet greater impossibility. "There, dear, I only did it to tease you. See what a beautiful colour you have! I must have my jest. Nobody is half so pretty as yourself-that they are not." "O you disagreeable man! But you shan't go to see that creature any more. won't let you." "Won't you, dear?" I Harmony being now restored between the amiable couple, they were proceeding to be as loving as ever, but they were suddenly interrupted by a great noise and hurry in the hall, and a loud vociferation of "Thieves! Murder! Police!" which roused the whole company in a moment. "O, it's only Mark!" exclaimed Mrs. Phillicody, after a moment of breathless terror. "He is so full of his nonsense-Mark is so fond of a jest-he is so amusing! Mark, you good-for-nothing fellow, what are you doing?" "Only striking a light to look for my. self?" responded Mark from without. "Have you found yourself yet?” cried Phœbe. "I find myself-here," said Mark, as he entered. Lord Killikelly turned to look at the hope of the family, and saw a slight trifling figure of a young man, yet with something of an air and manner of gentility, with unimportant features, yet carrying a mingled expression of sense and malice that redeemed them from total insignificance. "You said that you would not come,” "I did," said Mark, "I did; but I remem-possible. bered afterwards that Snookes was coming, and I came on purpose to see Snookes. Snookes, my good fellow, how are you? I say, Snookes, what a nuisance it is to have sisters!" Snookes immediately assented, and even Mrs. Snookes smiled. Wives do not generally patronise sisters. 66 My brother improves," said Phoebe, with a sneer. แ "It is more than his sister does," said Mark. 66 'Snookes, do you think that Eve talked before she ate those abominable apples? I think that it must have been part of the curse on man that his wife should talk." Snookes laughed, his wife frowned, Sophia lifted up her eyes to heaven, Phœbe called her brother "wretch!" and the two elder ladies said that he was "silly." "Well, Snookes, have you been to see my pretty tobacconist yet?" Snookes winked and nodded. Mrs. Snookes took fire and exploded. "So, then, sir, it was you that sent him?” "Fine creature, is she not, Snookes ?” said Mark. Snookes looked first at his wife and then at Mark. "Ah, true! well-I see. Then you have not been?" "Yes, sir, he has been, and I may thank you for it." "You are quite welcome, ma'am. Very happy to oblige you." "I am not at all obliged to you, sir, I can assure you. I tell you, sir, that no husband of mine, sir, shall insult me, and disgrace himself by visiting a low made-up creature like that." "Shall he not, ma'am? There, do you hear, Snookes, you are not to go any more. Your wife don't like it. She won't let you." "Won't let me !" said Snookes, with some notion of the dignity of the man rising within him. "No, Snookes, no. Learn to submit like a dutiful husband, and do as your wife bids you." 'I believe," said Phoebe, "that mischief is meat and drink to you." "Phœbe," said Mark, "take a little brotherly advice-the advice of a friend. If you show any spice, Harry Hooke there won't like you, and you know that you are spreading your nets and liming your twigs to catch him as fast as you can." Phoebe's eyes flashed, and her cheek crimsoned; she had evidently some angry retort upon her lips, but Harry Hooke anticipated her "I must always admire my cousin Phoebe, whether she choose to be grave or gay, or lively or severe." "Yes, I see that you are raising the market price of vanity as high as you can Soph, my dear," said Mark, "you ought never to sneer. It is as little like a little angel as possible. I know of nothing so unbecoming to the character of a woman, as well as to her features, as a sneer; but pray do as you please, Soph. If you like it, I am sure so do I." If you please, sir, don't call me Soph." "What then shall I call you? Let me see; little Sophy, little Soph, little Sop, little So." Sophy looked unutterably injured. "Veronese," said Mark, turning abruptly towards her, "I should like to know what you are looking so miserable about." Veronese, with a face of crimson, declared that she was not looking miserable. "Then I am mistaken-that's all," said Mark. Veronese rather too vehemently assured him that he was mistaken. "Aunt Rowland," said Mark, "you look amazingly well." She was looking the picture of grief. "I have got the most dreadful cold coming." "Harry Hooke," said Mark, turning round towards him, "I suppose you are what the ladies call a mighty fine fellow. Take care that that little great flirt there, my sister Phoebe, does not jilt you." 66 Mark," said Mrs. Phillicody, "I wish that you would not be so foolish. You really are the silliest fellow that ever I knew." "You know that you do not think so, mother mine," said Mark; " on the contrary, you are in the constant habit of vouching for the superlativeness of my intellects." "Sir," said Mark, advancing up to Lord Killikelly, whom he had been most attentively reconnoitring, "will you have the goodness to tell me what your hobby is ?" "Sir," said Lork Killikelly, "I shall take care not to tell you, lest you make it restive." "I shall find you out," said Mark, “I shall find you out." 66 Lord Killikelly involuntarily winced. "Veronese,” said Mark, “I want a lady's opinion. I wish to know the comparative merits between the heart of a man and the heart of a cabbage." "You are comparing what does not exist with that which does," replied Veronese. "Cabbages may have hearts-men have none." "Thank you, coz, now that I have felt your pulse, I find that yours is a complaint of the heart. It is that which makes you look so miserable. I must find out now where the cause lies." Veronese's spirit felt the bruise. "Snookes, my dear fellow," again began Mark, turning round to him in the distribu tion of his favours, "I'll tell you now what I came here for to-night. I know you are such a fine-spirited fellow-none of your milk-and-water sops-not a man to be tied to any woman's apron-string-beg pardon, ma'am-but a fine, determined, manly, spirited fellow." During this eulogium Snookes had shown gradual signs of the wakening up of his martial spirit; at its end he elevated his head with a sort of "who's-afraid”-air, and looked as brave as the most determined coward. Mrs. Snookes frowned and pouted, and sneered and flounced, and shook herself, and looked as if she did not know whether to be most angry with Mark, or her own sovereign lord and master. "Ah, Snookes," continued Mark, “ you have such a spirit! None of your Jerry Sneaks, that dare not say that their souls are their own. When you say a thing, you are determined." "When I say a thing, I am determined," said Snookes, with an air of proud selfcomplacency. Mrs. Snookes looked at Mark like an embodied storm. "You are not to be dictated to." "I am not to be dictated to." "You know what's what, and who's who." "I do know what's what, and who's who." "Any body that tried to twist you round their finger would have their labour for their pains." 66 'They would have their labour for their pains." "And if they were to contradict you ence. What is it?" asked Snookes, in great anxiety. "Why, this-a fellow has bet a wager to stand for three weeks in the same spot without moving." "Is it possible?" exclaimed Snookes. "Yes, all that is in his favour was the choice of a place." "And where is that?" "My dear fellow, you will not mention it to anybody. If it get abroad, the wager might be lost, and I have a few bets." "On my honour!" "Well, then, I'll tell you, because I know it will not go any further. He has chosen a little quiet place about fifty miles from town, for fear of interruption-Pangburn, Snookes, a little place in Berkshire, and there he is at this present time standing like a statue." "How very extraordinary!" said Snookes. "The most extraordinary wager that ever was made." "And do you believe it?" exclaimed Mrs. Adolphus Snookes, contemptuously. "Believe it, madam!" said Mark. differ-"Snookes, my dear fellow, go and see." "I will!" said Snookes. "I would soon show them the difference." "You will!" said Mrs. Snookes, "you will, will you? You will make yourself a Snookes had by this time arrived at the highest idea of the prerogative of man, and Mrs. Snookes, by some curious inversion" of the process, at the injuries of woman. "A wife of yours, Snookes, would soon find that she had no fool to deal with." "A wife of mine should soon find that she had no fool to deal with." 66 "And do you think," exclaimed Mrs. Snookes, that a woman of any spirit would ever come when she was called, and do what she was bid, and shut the door after her?" "If it were cold weather and you wanted the door shut-ha! Snookes?" "Yes, if it were cold weather I should want the door shut." "Why, then, you might shut it yourself," said Mrs. Snookes. "Would you?" said Mark. "Would I?" said Snookes. "You'd see the door at Jericho, would you not, Snookes?" "Snookes, my dear fellow," said Mark, Mrs. Snookes did not call you a fool. Do not misunderstand her." Nobody can misunderstand you,” said Mrs. Snookes. "It would be a pity," said Mark, "and a loss, and show a want of sense besides." "It is you who make Mr. S. a fool, by sending him on a fool's errand," said Mrs. Snookes. "Snookes, my dear fellow, do you hear how my word and your understanding are both doubted? Go, to-morrow morning, as an act of friendship for me, and establish my veracity." "I will," said Snookes. "You will!" said Mrs. Snookes. “You must make me one promise, however, Snookes," said Mark," and that is, not to go nearer to the fellow as he stands than twenty yards, for if he were either to laugh or to speak, he would lose the wa- . "Yes, and the wife there too!" exclaim- ger; and you must not tell any of the couned Snookes, whose courage was now ex-try people, because that might have the cited to a pitch of enthusiasm. same effect." "I give you my honour," said Snookes. past half hour on "hospitable thoughts inMrs. Snookes drew herself up to her full- tent," Mrs. Rowland took the lead, 66 comest height and dignity, and amused herself panion to herself," as Schiller nobly says. with sneering at Mr. Snookes, and looking Mrs. Adolphus Snookes followed, having as contemptuously as possible at Mark, be- scornfully shaken herself free from the coning far too dignified, and too much above tamination of Mr. Adolphus Snookes's ofthem both, to be angry. fered arm. Mark held out the tip of his It was just at that moment that a dum-little finger, and invited Sophy Snookes to plinish, puddingish sort of a lady, with the take it, at which indignity that young lady reddest possible face, and the crossest pos- flounced out before him. Phoebe and Harsible look, both being the especial privilege ry Hooke went out very lovingly together, of cooks, opened the door and announced and Veronese and Lord Killikelly brought that supper was on the table-a fact sub- up the rear like two sober, orderly people. stantiated by the presumptive evidence of the olfactory nerves of the whole party. Mrs. Phillicody having been absent for the (To be continued.) OCTOBER SONNETS. BY MAJOR CALDER CAMPBELL. I. AUTUMN Walks on, and every morning robs II. OCTOBER! 'tis the "painter's month!" Its wreath All beautiful and rich-do yet infuse A touch of melancholy to the thoughts; Of MAN'S decay! How bright the glow that floats |