knees to me; and me a-pointing to the door, and saying,
"Madam, you've steeled this 'eart against you, you have;--bury the
recollection of old times, of those old times when I thought my 'eart
would have broke, but it didn't--no: 'earts are made of sterner stuff. I
didn't die, as I thought I should; I stood it, and live to see the woman
I despised at my feet--ha, ha, at my feet!"

In the midst of these thoughts Mr. Eglantine fell asleep; but it
was evident that the idea of seeing Morgiana once more agitated him
considerably, else why should he have been at the pains of preparing
so much heroism? His sleep was exceedingly fitful and troubled; he saw
Morgiana in a hundred shapes; he dreamed that he was dressing her hair;
that he was riding with her to Richmond; that the horse turned into a
dragon, and Morgiana into Woolsey, who took him by the throat and choked
him, while the dragon played the key-bugle. And in the morning when
Mossrose was gone to his business in the City, and he sat reading the
Morning Post in his study, ah! what a thump his heart gave as the lady
of his dreams actually stood before him!

Many a lady who purchased brushes at Eglantine's shop would have given
ten guineas for such a colour as his when he saw her. His heart beat
violently, he was almost choking in his stays: he had been prepared for
the visit, but his courage failed him now it had come. They were both
silent for some minutes.

"You know what I am come for," at last said Morgiana from under her
veil, but she put it aside as she spoke.

"I--that is--yes--it's a painful affair, mem," he said, giving one look
at her pale face, and then turning away in a flurry. "I beg to refer
you to Blunt, Hone, and Sharpus, my lawyers, mem," he added, collecting
himself.

"I didn't expect this from YOU, Mr. Eglantine," said the lady, and began
to sob.

"And after what's 'appened, I didn't expect a visit from YOU, mem.
I thought Mrs. Capting Walker was too great a dame to visit poor
Harchibald Eglantine (though some of the first men in the country DO
visit him). Is there anything in which I can oblige you, mem?"

"O heavens!" cried the poor woman; "have I no friend left? I never
thought that you, too, would have deserted me, Mr. Archibald."

The "Archibald," pronounced in the old way, had evidently an effect on
the perfumer; he winced and looked at her very eagerly for a moment.
"What can I do for you, mem?" at last said he.

"What is this bill aga