Jack. Yes, indeed, Mrs. Congo, at the Grecian coffee-house, says, he's the soberest youth that comes to the house and all Mrs. Mittens's prentices throw down their work, and run to the window every time he goes by.

Char. Upon my word!

Jack. And moreover, besides that, he has several great estates in the country, but only for the present, he is kept out of 'em all by the owners. Char. Ah, Jack! that's the worst part of the

story.

Jack. Pshaw that's nothing at all. His guardian, Mr. Fairplay, has been with father today, and says, he is certain that he can set all to rights in a trice.

Char. Well, Jack, when that point is determined, it will be time enough to

Jack. Then! lord of mercy! why, sister Charlotte, it is my private opinion that if you don't give him some crumbs of comfort, he won't live till Midsummer term.

Char. I warrant you. Either Cupid's darts were always but poetical engines, or they have been lately deprived of their points. Love holds no place in the modern bills of mortality. However, Jack, you may tell your friend, that I have observed his frequent walks in our street.

Jack. Walks! Why one should think he was appointed to relieve the old watchman? for no sooner one is off, but the other comes on.

Char. And that from his eyes being constantly fixed on my window (for the information of which, I presume, he is indebted to you)—

Jack. He he he!

Char. I had a pretty shrewd guess at his business; but tell him that unless my fa

Hush! our tyrant is return'd. Don't leave the house till

I see you.

Enter Mrs. Circuit and Betty.

Mrs. Circ. So, sir, what makes you loitering from chambers? I thought I told you, you should never be here but at meals? [Exit Jack.] One spy is enough in a family.-Miss, you may go to your room; and d'ye hear-I shall have company, so you need not come down. [Exit Charlotte.]Betty, no message or letter?

Betty. None, madam.

Mrs. Circ. That is amazing-You know I expect colonel Secret and Mrs. Simper every in

stant.

Betty. Yes, madam.

Mrs. Circ. Put the fruit and the wine on the table in the next room.

Betty. Very well, madam.

Mrs. Circ. And, Betty, order the fellow to let nobody in but sir Luke.

Betty. Madam, I shall take care. [Exit. Mrs. Circ. [sits down.] The ballot must be over by this time. Sure there is nothing so dreadful as a state of suspence: but should they blackball me!-No, there's no danger of that; miss Mattadore has insured me success.-Well, this is certainly one of the most useful institutions; it positively supplies the only point of time one does not know how to employ. From twelve, the hour of one's rising, to dinner, is a most horrible chasm ; for though teizing the mercers and milliners by tumbling their wares, is now and then an entertaining amusement, yet upon repetition it palls.-But every morning to be sure of a party, and then again at night after a rout, to have a place to retire to; to be quite freed from all pain of providing; not to be pester'd at table with the odious company of clients, and country cousins; for I am determined to dine, and sup at the club, every day.

I can tell 'em, they'll have but very few forfeits from me.

Enter Betty, in haste, with a Letter.

Betty. By a chairman, madam, from the Thatch'dHouse.

Mrs. Circ. Give it me, Betty, this instant ;—ay

this is Mattadore's hand. [opens and reads the letter.]" My dear Circuit-it is with the utmost concern, and confusion, I find myself obliged to acquaint you, that notwithstanding all the pains I have taken, the club have thought fit to reject.

-Oh!

[she faints] Betty. Bless my soul! my lady is gone!-John! Will! Kitty! run hither this instant.

Enter two Maids and a Man-servant.

All. What, what's the matter?

Betty. Quick! quick! some hartshorn and water [pats her hands. Madam! madam

Servant. Here! here! here! [bringing water.] Betty. John, go for the potter-carrier this instant-I believes to my soul she is dead-Kitty, fetch some feathers to burn under her nose ;-there, stand further off, and give her some air

[Exeunt John and Kitty.

Enter sir Luke.

Sir Luke. Hey day! what the deuce is the matter? What's the meaning of all this, Mrs. Betty? Betty. Oh! sir, is it you-- my poor lady! [cries] clap the bottle hard to her nose.

Sir Luke. But how came it about?

Betty. Some of the continents of that curs'd letter, she has there in her hand.

Sir Luke. Here, here, take some of my eau-deJuce. offering a bottle.]

Betty. There! she recovers a little-some water

-I believe it is nothing but a satirical fit, I have had them myself-now she opens her eyes-so, so -bend her forward a little.

Sir Luke.

Mrs. Circ.

My sweet Mrs. Circuit.

Who is that?

Betty. Nobody at all, madam, but only sir Luke.

Mrs. Circ. Oh! sir Luke, such a stroke, so fatal, so sudden, it is not in nature I should ever survive it.

Sir Luke. Marry, heaven forbid! but what cause what could

There! there! there!

"fit to reject

Mrs. Circ. Leave the room. [to the servants, who go out -Only, look over that letter. Sir Luke. Hum, hum,-[reads] "fit to you"-thisMrs. Circ. Sir Luke. I own this is the utmost malice of fortune-but let me finish the letter." This calamity, dear Circuit, is of such a nature as baffles all advice, or interposition of friends, I shall therefore leave you to time, and your own good understanding." (pretty and sensible)-" yours, &c."-But let us see, what says the postscript-[reads.]" Perhaps it may give you some comfort to know that you had sixteen almonds, and but two raisins against you."

Mrs. Circ. But two!

Sir Luke. No more!

Mrs. Circ. This must be Kitty Cribbage's doing, she has been tattling about the paultry trifle I owe her.

Sir Luke. Not unlikely; but come, hear up, my dear madam, and consider that two.

Mrs. Circ. Is as bad as two thousand.

Sir Luke. Granted; but perhaps it mayn't be too late to repair.-Gadso! I have thought of a scheme-I'll be elected myself, and then I warrant we manage

Mrs. Circ. You, sir Luke? That never can be. Sir Luke. No, madam, and why not?-Why you don't suppose that they would venture to

Mrs. Circ. It would not only be against the spirit, but the very letter of their constitution to chuse you a member.

Sir Luke.

Av, madam, how so?

Mrs. Circ. Their statutes are selected from all the codes that ever existed from the days of Lycurgus to the present Czarina.

Sir Luke.

Well.

Mrs. Circ. The law that relates to your case they have borrow'd from the Roman religion. Sir Luke. As how?

Mrs. Circ. As no man can be admitted a Monk, who has the least corporal spot, or defect; so, no candidate can be received as a member who is deprived of the use of any one of his limbs.

Sir Luke. Nay, then indeed I am clearly cut out; that incapacity can never be got over.

Mrs. Circ. Indeed, the Serjeant says, if the club could be induced to resolve in your favour, then the original law would signify nothing.

Sir Luke. Well, well, we'll see what can be done. [a loud knocking.] But hush! the company's come; collect yourself, sweet Mrs. Circuit; don't give your enemies the malicious pleasure of seeing how this disappointment affects you.

Mrs. Circ.

Never fear; I know a little too much of the world not to turn this defeat to my credit.

Enter colonel Secret and Mrs. Simper.

Mrs. Sim. Your servant, sir Luke; my dear Circuit, I am frighten'd to death-your people tell me, you are but just recover'd from a

Mrs. Circ. Oh! nothing at all! a faintness, a kind of swimming-but those people are ever swelling those mole hills to mountains.