“The day after to-morrow. The appointment is made with him,” said Mrs. Cavely, more officially in manner, “for the day after to-morrow. He is excited, as you may well believe. But Mr. Smith is an immense relief to him--the very distraction he wanted. We have become one family, you know.” “Indeed, ma’am, I did not know it,” said Fellingham. The communication imparted such satiric venom to his further remarks, that Annette resolved to break her walk and dismiss him for the day. He called at the house on the beach after the dinner-hour, to see Mr. Van Diemen Smith, when there was literally a duel between him and Tinman; for Van Diemen’s contribution to the table was champagne, and that had been drunk, but Tinman’s sherry remained. Tinman would insist on Fellingham’s taking a glass. Fellingham parried him with a sedate gravity of irony that was painfully perceptible to Anisette. Van Diemen at last backed Tinman’s hospitable intent, and, to Fellingham’s astonishment, he found that he had been supposed by these two men to be bashfully retreating from a seductive offer all the time that his tricks of fence and transpiercings of one of them had been marvels of skill. Tinman pushed the glass into his hand. “You have spilt some,” said Fellingham. “It won’t hurt the carpet,” said Tinman. “Won’t it?” Fellingham gazed at the carpet, as if expecting a flame to arise. He then related the tale of the magnanimous Alexander drinking off the potion, in scorn of the slanderer, to show faith in his friend. “Alexander--Who was that?” said Tinman, foiled in his historical recollections by the absence of the surname. “General Alexander,” said Fellingham. “Alexander Philipson, or he declared it was Joveson; and very fond of wine. But his sherry did for him at last.” “Ah! he drank too much, then,” said Tinman. “Of his own!” Anisette admonished the vindictive young gentleman by saying, “How long do you stay in Crikswich, Mr. Fellingham?” He had grossly misconducted himself. But an adversary at once offensive and helpless provokes brutality. Anisette prudently avoided letting her father understand that satire was in the air; and neither he nor Tinman was conscious of it exactly: yet both shrank within themselves under the sensation of a devilish blast blowing. Fellingham accompanied them and certain jurats to London next day.