like a bolt, I
have, and goin' to make ye do your duty, naughty boy! But your my darlin'
babe," she melted, as was her custom, "and I'll never meet you and not
give to ye the kiss of a mother."

Before Lord Mountfalcon could find time to expostulate the soft woman had
him by the neck, and was down among his luxurious whiskers.

"Ha!" She gave a smothered shriek, and fell back. "What hair's that?"

Tom Bakewell just then illumined the transaction.

"Oh, my gracious!" Mrs. Berry breathed with horror, "I been and kiss a
strange man!"

Lucy, half-laughing, but in dreadful concern, begged the noble lord to
excuse the woful mistake.

"Extremely flattered, highly favoured, I'm sure;" said his lordship,
re-arranging his disconcerted moustache; "may I beg the pleasure of an
introduction?"

"My husband's dear old nurse--Mrs. Berry," said Lucy, taking her hand to
lend her countenance. "Lord Mountfalcon, Mrs. Berry."

Mrs. Berry sought grace while she performed a series of apologetic bobs,
and wiped the perspiration from her forehead.

Lucy put her into a chair: Lord Mountfalcon asked for an account of her
passage over to the Island; receiving distressingly full particulars, by
which it was revealed that the softness of her heart was only equalled by
the weakness of her stomach. The recital calmed Mrs. Berry down.

"Well, and where's my--where's Mr. Richard? yer husband, my dear?" Mrs.
Berry turned from her tale to question.

"Did you expect to see him here?" said Lucy, in a broken voice.

"And where else, my love? since he haven't been seen in London a whole
fortnight."

Lucy did not speak.

"We will dismiss the Emperor Julian till to-morrow, I think," said Lord
Mountfalcon, rising and bowing.

Lucy gave him her hand with mute thanks. He touched it distantly,
embraced Mrs. Berry in a farewell bow, and was shown out of the house by
Tom Bakewell.

The moment he was gone, Mrs. Berry threw up her arms. "Did ye ever know
sich a horrid thing to go and happen to a virtuous woman!" she exclaimed.
"I could cry at it, I could! To be goin' and kissin' a strange hairy man!
Oh dear me! what's cornin' next, I wonder? Whiskers! thinks I--for I know
the touch o' whiskers--'t ain't like other hair--what! have he growed a
crop that sudden, I says to myself; and it flashed on me I been and made
a awful mistake! and the lights come in, and I see that great hairy
man--beggin' his pardon--nobleman, and if I could 'a dropped through