"I don't know, sir. Will you please give me your card?" Now, Jerry thought it rather a joke for Mrs. Shever to require her visitors to send up their cards, so, although he knew better, he pulled out an article bearing the name of "Edwin Lass, Bootmaker. Repairs neatly executed on the shortest notice," and having deposited it in a plated salver, which the girl produced from under her apron, was requested to walk in and wait in the "drawering room," until she found out if missis was at home. Thompson seated himself on a sofa and laughed, as he thought how very stylish Mrs. Shever had become, when all of a sudden the door was opened and in walked the boatswain's widow, who without more ado tottered towards him, uttered a little squeal, and fainted in his arms. "Poor creature! why, it's too much for her," he cried. "Here, Mary--Eliza--what's your name? bring some vinegar and brown paper." Finding the smart servant was out of hearing, and Mrs. Shever's rosy lips being in close proximity to his own, Mr. Thompson thoughtlessly imprinted a kiss upon them! and the first gentle pressure proving ineffectual, repeated the application until the lady found he began to weary, upon which she recovered from her faint, and allowed him to lead her to the sofa. After passing her right hand several times across her forehead, as if recovering from a dream, the boatswain's widow suddenly ejaculated, "Am I awake?" "I believe you are, my dear Mrs. S.," replied the somewhat amused sailor. "Would you like a little cold water sprinkled over your face?" "Oh, dear me, no, Mr. Thompson," cried she, fearing he would spoil her dress. "I'm all right now; I fear I fainted." "You went off like a shot, mum; but I'm glad you're all right, as I ain't up to this sort of performance. I were just a going to burn them things under your nose," cried he pointing to some peacock's feathers which ornamented a mirror hanging over the fireplace. "I've heard they are first-rate for highstayricks." "Can he be indifferent to me? No, surely he will be only too glad to marry me," thought the boatswain's widow, "but I'll be more distant, and draw him out."--"Would you like to have some music, Mr. Thompson?" "Werry much indeed, mum. Have you a hand organ, or do that work by machinery?" inquired Jerry, pointing to a cottage piano, which stood on the other side of the room. Mrs. Shever gave a peculiar little laugh, as if to hide her chagrin; then rising majestically, rustled to the piano, and having perpetrated some preliminary attempts, at last managed to finger her way through a simple air, although, in spite of her endeavours to check herself, she would every now and then audibly utter "one! two! three!" which caused Mr. Thompson to remark that she might just as well give him the whole of the words out loud, as he was fond of hearing a lady sing.