Perhaps I'll ride with you in half an hour, but if I set off now I should go too fast for you.

Exit.

Ever. This affair does vex me a little, I confess-what book is this? (Sits down and reads.)

Enter SERVANT.

Ser. Sir-a Mr. Arundel is below and wishes

to speak with you.

Ever. Who? I don't recollect the namebut shew him up.

Enter DELVILLE, disguised as an old man.

Del. I am aware, Mr. Everard, I should beg your pardon for interrupting you by a visit from one who is a perfect stranger to you.

Ever. Do not give yourself the trouble of an apology-pray be seated. (They sit down.)

Del. Perhaps I may afford you some insight into the subject of which I am going to speak to you, by telling you I am just come from the East Indies.

Ever. I shall be most happy to attend to you, sir, though really I don't at present recollect any connexion I have with that distant country.

Del. Then I fancy I am mistaken in the person-your name is Everard-the eldest son of lord Everard.

Ever. So far you are certainly right.

Del. I had a message from one who thought and called you his friend. Perhaps however he was mistaken. When a man has been long absent from his country, he is apt to imagine every acquaintance he has left behind him a friend.

Ever. Our connexion with the East Indies is now become so intimate, and our constant wars there occasion the sending out so many troops, that every man has probably many acquaintance in those countries. Whom do you mean?

Del. The person to whom I allude is Mr. Delville.

Ever. I am happy to hear we are to expect him shortly.

Del. One should suppose from his manner he was speaking of a party to dinner! Aside.

Ever. We may expect him any hour I fancy, Mr. Arundel.

Del. Alas! sir-never-exhausted by the heat of the climate, to which he has been exposed, he has fallen a victim to the consequences of a wound he received in battle, and died on his passage.

Ever. How unfortunate a circumstance!

Del. His remaining vigour was not sufficient to resist the attack of a consumption which carried him off in less than two months.

Ever. That is extraordinary-Delville had always an excellent constitution, which he never

injured by hard living, and a sea voyage I believe is generally recommended as a powerful remedy in these cases.

Del. I attended him, sir, on his death-bed, and amongst the friends to whom he wished me to say farewell in his name, on my return to England, you stood amongst the first.

Ever. He did 'me infinite honor! You seem disturbed, sir,-I own it was impossible not to have some regard for Delville, in spite of his faults.

Del. His faults, sir? Now for an original sort of epitaph without flattery. Aside.

Ever. He was a dull unsociable fellow to be sure yet with a number of excellent qualities -his stile of living, poor man! it was perfectly intolerable--at table too the most perverse and irregular feeder-he has set my teeth on edge a thousand times. I have seen him eat vegetables with fish, and fill his mouth at the same moment with port wine and pine apple.—But I had a regard for him.

Del. You do him too much honor-an answer in his own way, (aside.) Now Mr. Everard, having discharged my commission, having given you the purpose of my visit, I will not trouble you any longer. This miserable virtue of fashionable decorum. (Aside.)

Ever. Do you stay long in Bath? I have a few friends to dine with me to-day-will you make one of them?

Del. I am sorry I am obliged to leave Bath almost immediately.

Ever. Or it would have given me great pleasure to have seen you. (leading him to the door.) Take care of that winding staircase, Mr. Arundel-it's extremely dangerous.

Del. (Aside.) How humbling it is to a man's vanity to outlive himself for a month or two. Exeunt.

SCENE IV.-North Parade.

Enter O'NEALE and DUPONT.

O'Neale. Now for an attempt to make my peace with her ladyship. And if I can get her for a wife, I will trust to her to negociate a treaty of amity with her niece through the means of our family compact. Dupont, you dog!

Dup. Ah-sir-you would not let me manage the business for you when you wished to be reconciled to the young lady.

O'Neale. You are privileged to be impertinent-'sdeath, you rascal, when I ordered you to praise one lady, I did not mean you should calumniate another.

Enter DELVILLE.

Del. I must apologize to you, sir, for addressing you in the street-your name is O'Neale.

O'Neale. No apology at all is necessary. I was never ashamed of looking any man in the face, and if it will give you the least pleasure, you may address me at mid-day from the orchestra in the pump-room. This ill-looking fellow here is my servant, whom I inherited with the rest of my patrimony, and I assure you, in spite of his countenance, which I confess would hang him in any court of justice in the empire, he is a faithful honest rascal, whom I sometimes admit into my secrets.

Del. Not a jot altered, I see (Aside.) I am rather prest for time, Mr. O'Neale, or I should have done myself the pleasure of calling upon you: As however you give me the liberty of speaking to you here, I will tell you at once, that I am a messenger to you from an old friend of your's, at least from a man who called himself a friend of your's.

O'Neale. Don't be so delicate, my good fellow! I know no reason why a man should call himself a friend of mine unless he is so in reality. Who do you mean? If he can drink claret and love a pretty woman, I'll not disown him,