The situation of these persons occupied so much of his thoughts, that when he called as usual at the tavern next night, he felt a strong anxiety to meet them there again. He was disappointed, for Hamilton was seated in the room alone. He nodded as Grimaldi entered, and said, "Are you going to Finchley to-night?" "No," was the reply; "I wish I was: I have an engagement at my house here in town which will prevent my doing so." "I thought you always went there on summer evenings," said Hamilton, glancing over the paper as he spoke, and speaking in an uninterested and careless style. "No, not always," said Grimaldi: "pretty nearly though--five nights out of six." "Then you'll go to-morrow?" asked Hamilton. "Oh, certainly! to-morrow, and every night this week except to-night." They exchanged a "Good-evening!" and parted. It so happened that Grimaldi was reluctantly obliged to remain in town, not only next night, but the night after also, in consequence of the arrival in town of some country friends. On the third night, the 9th of July, he called at the tavern to take his usual glass, before mounting his gig, and, his mind being still occupied with thoughts of the poor young woman and her dissipated husband, he inquired whether Hamilton had been there that night. The reply was, he had not: he had not been there for three evenings, or, in other words, since he had seen and spoken to him. When Grimaldi produced his purse to pay for the wine and water he had drunk, he found he had nothing but two five-pound notes. He gave the waiter one, requesting change, and put the other in his waistcoat pocket. He usually carried notes in a pocket-book, but upon this evening he did not happen to have it about him; in fact, he had received the notes very unexpectedly while he was in the theatre, from a person who owed him money. He put the change in his purse, got into the gig, and drove homeward. On that particular evening Grimaldi had a call to make in Tottenham-court-road, which delayed him for some little time. As he was passing through Kentish Town, a friend, who was standing at his door, the weather being sultry, insisted upon his coming in and taking a glass of wine: this detained him again, as they stood chatting for half an hour or so; and by the time he had resumed his journey homewards it was near the middle of the night. FOOTNOTES: