When the letter and the handwriting, which, unfortunately, I cannot reproduce, had been duly studied and approved, Vandeleur continued-- “Now, you know, she had her good points, after all. If any creature was ill, she'd sit up all night and nurse them, and she used to go to church on Sundays, and come back with the sting out of her; only then she would preach to a fellow, and bore him. She is awfully fond of preaching. Her dream is to jump on a first-rate hunter, and ride across country, and preach to the villages. So, when George came grinning to me with the letter, I told him to buy a new side-saddle for the gray, and take her the lot, with my compliments. I had noticed a slight spavin in his near foreleg. She rode him that very day in the park, all alone, and made such a sensation that next day my gray was standing in Lord Hailey's stables. But she rode Hailey, like my gray, with a long spur, and he couldn't stand it. None of 'em could except Sir Charles Bassett, and he doesn't play fair--never goes near her.” “And that gives him an unfair advantage over his fascinating predecessors?” inquired the senior, slyly. “Of course it does,” said Vandeleur, stoutly. “You ask a girl to dine at Richmond once a month, and keep out of her way all the rest of the time, and give her lots of money--she will never quarrel with you.” “Profit by this information, young man,” said old Woodgate, severely; “it comes too late for me. In my day there existed no sure method of pleasing the fair. But now that is invented, along with everything else. Richmond and--absence, equivalent to 'Richmond and victory!' Now, Bassett, we have heard the truth from the fountain-head, and it is rather serious. She swears, she kicks, she preaches. Do you still desire an introduction? As for me, my manly spirit is beginning to quake at Vandeleur's revelations, and some lines of Scott recur to my Gothic memory-- “'From the chafed tiger rend his prey, Bar the fell dragon's blighting way, But shun that lovely snare.”' Bassett replied, gravely, that he had no such motive as Mr. Woodgate gave him credit for, but still desired the introduction. “With pleasure,” said Vandeleur; “but it will be no use to you. She hates me like poison; says I have no heart. That is what all ill-tempered women say.” Notwithstanding his misgivings the obliging youth called for writing materials, and produced the following epistle-- “DEAR MISS SOMERSET--Mr. Richard Bassett, a cousin of Sir Charles, wishes very much to be introduced to you, and has begged me to assist in an object so laudable. I should hardly venture to present myself, and, therefore, shall feel surprised as well as flattered if you will receive Mr. Bassett on my introduction, and my assurance that he is a respectable country gentleman, and bears no resemblance in character to “Yours faithfully, “ARTHUR VANDELEUR.” Next day Bassett called at Miss Somerset's house in May Fair, and delivered his introduction.