dismayed Pitskiver.

"You told me sir," exclaimed Bristles, "that you would be for ever
indebted to me if I brought this lady to your mansion--that she was
the perfection of grace and innocence. By a friendly arrangement with
Mr Stickleback, the greatest sculptor of ancient or modern times, I
managed to secure to this illustrious woman an admission to your
house, which, I understood, she could not openly obtain through the
opposition of your daughters. I considered that you knew of the
arrangement, sir; and I know that, with a soft and feminine
trustfulness, this most gentle and intellectual ornament of her sex
and species consented to meet the wish you had so ardently expressed."

"I never had a wish of the kind," cried Mr Pitskiver; "and I believe
you talking fellows and chattering women are all in a plot to make me
ridiculous. I won't stand it any longer."

"Stand what?" enquired Mr Bristles, knitting his brows.

"Your nonsensical praises of each other--your boastings of
Sticklebacks, and Snooksbys, and Bankses; a set of mere humbugs and
blockheads! And even this foolish woman, with her femininities and
re-invigorating society, I believe to be a regular quack. By dad! one
would think there had never been a woman in the world before."

"Your observations are uncalled for"--

"By no manner of means," continued the senior, waxing bolder from the
sound of his own voice. "I believe you're in a conspiracy to puff each
other into reputation; and, if possible, get hold of some silly
fellow's daughters. But no painting, chiseling, writing, or
sonneteering blackguard, shall ever catch a girl of mine. What the
deuce brings _you_ here, sir?" he added, fiercely turning to Mr
Sidsby. "You're the impostor that read the first act of a play"--

"I read it, sir," said the youth, "but didn't write a word of it, I
assure you. Bristles is the author, and I gave him six dozen of
sherry."

"No indeed, papa; he never wrote a line in his life," said Sophia.

"Then he may have you if he likes."

"Nor I, except in the ledger," modestly observed Mr Bill Whalley.

"Then take Emily with all my heart. Here, Daggles," he continue,
ringing the bell, "open the street-door, and show these parties out!"

Amidst muttered threats, fierce looks, and lips contorted into all
modes and expression of indignation, the guests speedily disappeared.
And while Mr Pitskiver, still panting from his exertions, related to
his daughters and their enchante