Returning again to the Exhibition-room at the Egyptian Hall, several evenings of which have passed by without mention, but much in the same way, we find the same excitement and applause, and the "jolly fat dame" at the end of the platform, nightly receiving the Doctor's impressive smiles, which are constantly ready for her; and which by this time, aided by the continued coldness of the _Roman-nose_, were making visible inroads upon her tender affections. She had had, it seemed, on this evening, some conversation with the Doctor, through the interpreter, who had heretofore studiously kept out of the way, and she had invited the Doctor to ride to her house in her carriage, after the exhibition was over, believing that he would be able to find in her garden, some roots which he was in great distress to find, and that she would bring him home again safe. Mr. Melody objected to this, which seemed to puzzle the fair dame, and to throw the Doctor into a profound melancholy and dejection. This rebuff from Mr. Melody was so unexpected and so provoking, when she had so nearly accomplished her object, that the good lady passed out of the room earlier than usual, and tossed her head about with her ostrich plumes as she passed along in the crowd, without having the heart to stop and speak a few words to Daniel, as she had been in the habit of doing. Mr. Melody retired with the Indians, and I remained after the crowd had left, at the solicitation of a party of ladies, who had sent me their card and wished to see me after the exhibition was over. The room being nearly emptied, I saw a party of several fashionably-dressed ladies at the further end of the room, examining the paintings on the walls. In advancing towards them, the one who seemed to be the leader of the party turned around and exclaimed, "Oh, here comes Mr. Catlin, I believe?" "Yes, Madam, I am Mr. Catlin." "Oh, I am so happy to have the honour of seeing you, Sir, and of speaking to you--you have made all these paintings?" "Yes." "These Indians are curious fellows, and well worth seeing, but I consider you ten times more of a curiosity. Look here, ladies, here's Mr. Catlin, the very man that I have so often told you about. Dear me, what dangers and hardships you must have been through! Oh, I do think you are one of the wonders of the world--and not a grey hair in your head yet! My dear Sir, I know your whole history-- you'd scarcely believe it--I know it 'like a book,' as they say. I recollect the very day when you started for India, and I have followed you the whole way--I have your book--I bought several copies to give to my friends; I have read every word of it over and over again--and, oh! it's wonderful--it's charming--one can't stop in it--there's no stopping place in it. By the way, I don't suppose you were down much in the neighbourhood of Chusan (I've got a nephew there--a fine fellow--he's a surgeon). I suppose you kept pretty