He opened the door--he beheld her at the table, and ran forward to imprint his welcome kiss upon her ruby lips; but what words can describe his sensation on beholding her eyes’ accustomed brilliancy quenched in tears, and pearly drops chasing each other in quick succession down her lovely cheeks! “Gracious Heaven!” he exclaimed, “what is the cause of this? Tell me, dear Susan, tell me, I beseech you, what dire calamity has visited our hitherto-happy roof. Speak, I entreat you!” She was all silent, and her tears continued to flow. “O Heaven!” he exclaimed, in mental agony of apprehension, “has anything befallen our lovely infants? Is Henry--is Maria--speak--are--they--can they be--oh, I feel a father’s pangs--ah, beloved infants! Tell me, for pity’s sake, tell me, dear Susan; strike me dead at once with dire intelligence, but do not let me die by the protracted agonies of uncertainty!” She became violently convulsed, and George, in the greatest excitement, rang the bell violently. A servant entered, and to his broken interrogations of “Where are the children?--what has happened to your mistress?--tell me this instant what has befallen your mistress!--what dreadful accident has occurred?” Answer-- “Lawk, sir, you are so passionate and hasty; you won’t give a body time to speak.” “Death and fury, idiot!” exclaimed the exasperated George; “tell me this instant what to think, or by Heaven---- “Lawk-a-daisey, sir, why, if you must know, then, missus has been _peeling some onions to fry with the steak_, and it is so strong it’s got into her EYES, that’s all sir!” Batchlar, Printer, Long Alley. THE SECRETS REVEALED, OR THE FASHIONABLE LIFE OF LORD & LADY ---- WHO RESIDE _NOT_ ONE HUNDRED MILES FROM THIS NEIGHBOURHOOD. “’Tis from high life high characters are drawn.”--_Pope._ My Lord and Lady, who reside not a hundred miles from this neighbourhood, sat by the fireside in the drawing room; his Lordship on the right hand--her Ladyship on the left. The fire was dull, so was his Lordship; the weather was dull, so was her Ladyship. His Lordship moved the poker from the right hand side of the fireplace to that of the left: her Ladyship moved it back again. His Lordship scratched his left ear; her Ladyship scratched her right--violently too--and then quitted the room. His Lordship rang the bell. A footman entered. He was clad for a journey. “John,” said his Lordship, “has Tattersall sent the horses?” “Yes, your Lordship,” said John, “they are at the door?” “Four of them?” “Yes, your honour.” “Do they look creditable?” “Perfect, your honour! Full of flesh and rampart spirit, pawing up the stones.” “What colour?” “Bay, my Lord.” “Ah! the right colour, Bays, for a poet; and I am a poet: that is, I used to rhyme when I was in love. Is the lumber ready, John?” “Right, my Lord.” “Ah! then tell Her Honourable Ladyship I wait her presence in the water--. No! no! in the--the--library, I mean. Yes, the library, John--mind--the library.”