duct has astonished me more than I can express; your attack upon me is the most unwarrantable that ever was made; will you favour me by stepping outside your box? it is customary to settle these differences in the lobby, and not in the presence of the audience. I have no wish to turn actor, or to take a part in a play-house disturbance; there are mountebanks enough already, without my adding to the number. I repeat it, will you follow me to the lobby?"

" I shall do nothing of the kind," replied the stranger, in a tone of mingled firmness and irritability, "I have something better to do. I have ladies to look after. Besides," he added, glancing at me contemptuously, "I don't know who you are, and I don't care what are your

customs."

The insolent tone in which the stranger addressed me excited my choler abundantly. I replied in a low voice-low from extreme passion-and setting a marked emphasis upon particular words of my answer. "Who I am, sir, you shall know soon enough. As for my customs, sir, they are the customs of Englishmen, and gentlemen-which, of course, you know nothing about." And having said this I resumed my seat, placing my elbow firmly upon the contested resting-place, and fixing my eyes upon the countenance of my opponent.

The stranger turned away his head: and presently the curtain was up-drawn.

I did not attend very much to the presentation of the next act. I was labouring under violent excitement: I was boiling with the fiercest indignation. If I had not been in a public place I should have smitten the fellow, in my fury. Never in my whole life had I been so outrageously insulted, and by one a stranger, a foreigner-a man who had numbered more than double the sum of my years; and who, very probably, presuming upon his age, thought to brow-beat a stripling with impunity. I was infuriated; but I was not cowed, -I said to myself- "Yes; I will extort an apology from that man: I will force him to give me satisfaction. He is protected from my violence now by the companionship of the ladies who attend him; but I will follow the insulter to his house; and beard him at his own threshold;"in short, I know not to what extent my meditations of vengeance did not lead me. I thought that a whole hecatomb could never appease my fury. I walked, in imagination, through an ocean of blood; and fancied myself an Achilles or a Diomed.

In the meantime I began to scrutinize my adversary. To all appearance, he had moved on the earth about five and forty years; he was tall and of a robust frame, with a remarkably intelligent

countenance, and a high, massive forehead, loaded with knotty protuberances. His hair, which was of a dark grey colour, was profuse and curly at the back of his head, though it had long since forgotten to adorn the crown and frontispiece of its master. He was not what a judge of the beautiful would exactly call a handsome man; but his physiognomy was strikingly expressive, and indicated the character of a man open, manly, intrepid and generous; but irresolute, impatient, and little given to wordy ceremony.

When the drop-curtain was again lowered, I stood up, and having extracted a card from one of the most beautiful Chinese cases that ever had crossed the Equator, I was about to present it to the stranger, with a request that he would return the compliment, when the individual, to my great astonishment, up-rising from his sedentary posture, addressed me in the following words: - "Sir, I was too intemperate. You must forgive the frailty of my temper. I have made a most unjust attack upon you; and I am ready to acknowledge my error. Think that I am sufficiently punished in making this confession of my infirmity. You have behaved yourself, in this business, like a gentleman and a man of spirit; I like a madman and a fool." I was quite overpowered by this acknowledgment. The candour and condescension of the

stranger affected the sensibilities of my nature; and my emotion became apparent in the unwonted glistening of my eyes.

"Think not, sir," I replied, "that I am less willing to forget, than you are to confess, your error. Sorry, indeed, am I that any conduct upon my part should have provoked this unpleasant altercation; but, I must say, in justice to myself, that nothing was further from my intentions, or altogether more foreign to my thoughts, than any uncourteous behaviour; for I am one, sir"-and here I went to Ben Jonson for assistance" who dare as little to offer an injury as receive one.But let the past be forgotten."

"I believe you," replied the stranger; "I believe you, but more than this I feel a disposition to love you; there is that about you, which has won my affection; - may I hope that we may become acquainted"-and he put into my hand a card bearing his name and address.

I immediately did the same. The card which I had drawn from my pocket, with an hostile intent, was delivered as a pledge of amity-to a friend instead of to an enemy.

I read the superscription of the stranger's

card

MR. DE LAURIER,

Street, Berkeley Square.

but as the name was altogether unknown to me, it excited no particular sensations.

But not so with the address I had given. Mr. de Laurier, upon reading the printed characters, which syllabled the name of Jerningham, started, with a gesture of surprise; but the astonishment which he so manifestly exhibited, appeared to be of a grateful nature; and, presently, turning towards me, he exclaimed, -" Jerningham! can it be possible? are you the nephew of Matthew Jerningham, my excellent friend and benefactor? No; no: how can I ask the question?-for he has but one nephew in England, and"--but I interrupted the speaker.

"Indeed, sir, I am the nephew of one Mr. Matthew Jerningham; and I rejoice that you call him your friend," and then I proceeded to satisfy my new acquaintance of my identity, by telling him what had brought me to England.

Mr. de Laurier was delighted. He turned round to the young lady, who was seated on his right hand, and said, "Margaret, my love, this is Mr. Claude Jerningham, the nephew of our kind friend-who has just returned from the Indies,”— and the sweetest voice I had ever heard in my life, replied," Indeed! dear father; you know the very name of Jerningham is enough to secure my good-will."