heard in the passage a well-known voice--the voice of Mrs. Petito.

"Oh, no, my Lady Dashfort's best compliments, and I will call again."

"No, no," cried old Reynolds, pulling his bell; "I'll have no calling
again--I'll be hanged if I do! Let her in now, and I'll see her--Jack!
let in that woman now or never."

"The lady's gone, sir, out of the street door."

"After her, then--now or never, tell her."

"Sir, she was in a hackney coach."

Old Reynolds jumped up, and went to the window himself, and, seeing
the hackney coachman just turning, beckoned at the window, and Mrs.
Petito was set down again, and ushered in by Jack, who announced her
as, "the lady, sir." The only lady he had seen in that house.

"My dear Mr. Reynolds, I'm so obliged to you for letting me in," cried
Mrs. Petito, adjusting her shawl in the passage, and speaking in a
voice and manner well mimicked after her betters. "You are so very
good and kind, and I am so much obliged to you."

"You are not obliged to me, and I am neither good nor kind," said old
Reynolds.

"You strange man," said Mrs. Petito, advancing graceful in shawl
drapery; but she stopped short. "My Lord Colambre and Count
O'Halloran, as I hope to be saved!"