furious jangling and ringing at the bell; and in
oaths, both French and English, called upon the recalcitrant Anatole.

After much tolling of the bell, a light came cutting across the crevices
of the inner door; it was thrown open, and a figure appeared with a
lamp,--a tall slim figure of a woman, clothed in white from head to
foot.

It was Mrs. Berry, and when Cutler and I saw her, we both ran away as
fast as our legs could carry us.

Berry, at this, shrieked with a wild laughter. "Remember to-morrow, old
boys," shouted he,--"six o'clock;" and we were a quarter of a mile off
when the gate closed, and the little mansion of the Avenue de Paris was
once more quiet and dark.

The next afternoon, as we were playing at billiards, Cutler saw Mrs.
Berry drive by in her carriage; and as soon as rather a long rubber was
over, I thought I would go and look for our poor friend, and so went
down to the Pavilion. Every door was open, as the wont is in France, and
I walked in unannounced, and saw this:

He was playing a duet with her on the flute. She had been out but for
half-an-hour, after not speaking all the morning; and having seen Cutler
at the billiard-room window, and suspecting we might take advantage
of her absence, she had suddenly returned home again, and had flung
herself, weeping, into her Frank's arms, and said she could not bear to
leave him in anger. And so, after sitting for a little while sobbing on
his knee, she had forgotten and forgiven every thing!

The dear angel! I met poor Frank in Bond Street only yesterday; but he
crossed over to the other side of the way. He had on goloshes, and is
grown very fat and pale. He has shaved off his moustaches, and, instead,
wears a respirator. He has taken his name off all his clubs, and lives
very grimly in Baker Street. Well, ladies, no doubt you say he is right:
and what are the odds, so long as YOU are happy?

DENNIS HAGGARTY'S WIFE.

There was an odious Irishwoman who with her daughter used to frequent
the "Royal Hotel" at Leamington some years ago, and who went by the name
of Mrs. Major Gam. Gam had been a distinguished officer in His Majesty's
service, whom nothing but death and his own amiable wife could overcome.
The widow mourned her husband in the most becoming bombazeen she could
muster, and had at least half an inch of lampblack round the immense
visiting tickets which she left at the houses of the nobility and gentry
her friends.

Some of us,