remark
made me feel all the more nervous.

"Mrs Clyde at home?" I asked of the handmaiden, who answered my
summons.

Yes, Mrs Clyde was at home.

Would I walk in?

I would; and did.

So far, all was plain sailing:--now, came the tug of war.

Mrs Clyde was standing up, facing the door, as I entered the drawing-
room into which the handmaiden had ushered me.

"Won't you sit down, Mr Lorton?" she said, politely.

She never forgot her good breeding; and, I verily believe, if it had
ever been her lot to officiate in Calcraft's place, she would have asked
the culprit, whom she was about to hasten on his way to "kingdom come,"
whether he found the fatal noose too tight, or comfortable and easy,
around his doomed neck! She would do this, too, I'm sure, with the most
charming solicitude possible!

I noticed of her, that, whenever she was bent on using her sharpest
weapons--of "society's" armoury and, methinks, the devil's forge-mark!--
she always put on an extra gloss of politeness over her normal smooth
and varnished style of address.

I didn't like it, either.

Civility may be all very well in its way, but I cannot say that I admire
that way of knocking a man down with a kid glove. It is a treacherous
mode of attack; and very much resembles the plan Mr Chucks, the
boatswain in _Peter Simple_, used to adopt when correcting the ship's
boys.

That gentleman would, if you recollect, courteously beckon an offender
to approach him, doffing his hat the while as if speaking to the
quarter-deck; and then, begging the trembling youngster's pardon for
detaining him, would proceed to inform him in the "politest and most
genteel manner in the world" that he was "the d---d son of a sea
cook,"--subsequently rattaning him furiously, amidst a plethora of
expletives before which the worst Billingsgate faded into
insignificance.

I may be singular in the fancy, but, do you know, I prefer civil words
to be accompanied with civil deeds, and contrariwise:--the "poison of
asps" does not go well with honied accents!

"Pray take a seat, Mr Lorton," said Mrs Clyde. "I was expecting you
to call; and waited in, on purpose not to miss seeing you. My daughter
has told me,"--she went on, taking the initiative, ere I had a chance to
speak--cutting the ground from under my feet, as it were, and rendering
my task each moment more arduous--"My daughter has told me that she and
you were talking some nonsense together last night, which i