r Lenville folded his arms, and treated Nicholas to that
expression of face with which, in melodramatic performances, he was in
the habit of regarding the tyrannical kings when they said, 'Away
with him to the deepest dungeon beneath the castle moat;' and which,
accompanied with a little jingling of fetters, had been known to produce
great effects in its time.

Whether it was the absence of the fetters or not, it made no very deep
impression on Mr Lenville's adversary, however, but rather seemed to
increase the good-humour expressed in his countenance; in which stage of
the contest, one or two gentlemen, who had come out expressly to witness
the pulling of Nicholas's nose, grew impatient, murmuring that if it
were to be done at all it had better be done at once, and that if Mr
Lenville didn't mean to do it he had better say so, and not keep them
waiting there. Thus urged, the tragedian adjusted the cuff of his right
coat sleeve for the performance of the operation, and walked in a very
stately manner up to Nicholas, who suffered him to approach to within
the requisite distance, and then, without the smallest discomposure,
knocked him down.

Before the discomfited tragedian could raise his head from the boards,
Mrs Lenville (who, as has been before hinted, was in an interesting
state) rushed from the rear rank of ladies, and uttering a piercing
scream threw herself upon the body.

'Do you see this, monster? Do you see THIS?' cried Mr Lenville, sitting
up, and pointing to his prostrate lady, who was holding him very tight
round the waist.

'Come,' said Nicholas, nodding his head, 'apologise for the insolent
note you wrote to me last night, and waste no more time in talking.'

'Never!' cried Mr Lenville.

'Yes--yes--yes!' screamed his wife. 'For my sake--for mine,
Lenville--forego all idle forms, unless you would see me a blighted
corse at your feet.'

'This is affecting!' said Mr Lenville, looking round him, and drawing
the back of his hand across his eyes. 'The ties of nature are strong.
The weak husband and the father--the father that is yet to be--relents.
I apologise.'

'Humbly and submissively?' said Nicholas.

'Humbly and submissively,' returned the tragedian, scowling upwards.
'But only to save her,--for a time will come--'

'Very good,' said Nicholas; 'I hope Mrs Lenville may have a good one;
and when it does come, and you are a father, you shall retract it if you
have the courage. There. Be careful,