nd I had had a little private
conversation with him, he hurried away.

His fellow had given him, in the interim, a high character to Mrs.
Moore's servants: and this reported by the widow Bevis (who being no
proud woman, is hail fellow well met, as the saying is, with all her
aunt's servants) he was a fine gentleman, a discreet gentleman, a man of
sense and breeding, with them all: and it was pity, that, with such great
business upon his hands, he should be obliged to come again.

My life for your's, audibly whispered the widow Bevis, there is humour as
well as head-ache in somebody's declining to see this worthy gentleman.--
Ah, Lord! how happy might some people be if they would!

No perfect happiness in this world, said I, very gravely, and with a
sigh; for the widow must know that I heard her. If we have not real
unhappiness, we can make it, even from the overflowings of our good
fortune.

Very true, and very true, the two widows. A charming observation! Mrs.
Bevis. Miss Rawlins smiled her assent to it; and I thought she called me
in her heart charming man! for she professes to be a great admirer of
moral observations.

I had hardly taken leave of the Captain, and sat down again with the
women, when Will. came; and calling me out, 'Sir, Sir,' said he, grinning
with a familiarity in his looks as if what he had to say entitled him to
take liberties; 'I have got the fellow down!--I have got old Grimes--hah,
hah, hah, hah!--He is at the Lower Flask--almost in the condition of
David's sow, and please your honour--[the dog himself not much better]
here is his letter--from--from Miss Howe--ha, ha, ha, ha,' laughed the
varlet; holding it fast, as if to make conditions with me, and to excite
my praises, as well as my impatience.

I could have knocked him down; but he would have his say out--'old Grimes
knows not that I have the letter--I must get back to him before he misses
it--I only make a pretence to go out for a few minutes--but--but'--and
then the dog laughed again--'he must stay--old Grimes must stay--till I
go back to pay the reckoning.'

D--n the prater; grinning rascal! The letter! The letter!

He gathered in his wide mothe, as he calls it, and gave me the letter;
but with a strut, rather than a bow; and then sidled off like one of
widow Sorlings's dunghill cocks, exulting after a great feat performed.
And all the time that I was holding up the billet to the light, to try to
get at its contents without