"My name is Neville, sir--my name is Neville," exclaimed the other; "have you anything to say to that?" "Nothing at all, sir," replied Morley, "as my business does not lie with Mr. Neville, but with Mr. Barham." "But I am Mr. Barham's friend, sir," said Mr. Neville, "and he does not seem to know you any more than I do. I am Mr. Barham's friend, I say." "I am very sorry to hear it," replied Morley, calmly, though provoked; "for, from all I can see, your acquaintance does not seem likely to be advantageous to him." "Oh, sir! oh!" exclaimed the other, with a furious look--"now, I insist upon having your card. I will have satisfaction, sir--I will have satisfaction." "Nay, my dear young lady," said Morley, gently passing Miss Barham, who was endeavouring to interpose; "I understand this gentleman, and you do not.--I never give my card, sir, to people that I do not know. If you are the sort of person I take you to be, such satisfaction as a horsewhip may give, you shall command. If you be not such a personage, and prove the fact to my conviction, I will either make you an apology, or meet you in the way that you require. Stand out of the way, sir, for I am very likely, at this moment, to throw you from the top of the stairs to the bottom. Mr. Barham, I much wish to have a few words of conversation with you, and if you could make it convenient to call upon me to night, at Thomas's, in Berkeley-square, towards seven o'clock, I should be glad to see you. You will ask for Sir Morley Ernstein. Miss Barham, I shall have the honour of paying my respects to you on another occasion." "Missed fire, by Jove!"--exclaimed Mr. Neville, as Morley descended the stairs, opened the door, and beckoned to his cabriolet, which was wandering up and down the street--"I say, what's to be done now? That bird's worth plucking, and you are a fool if you don't do it. I must have a feather, too, if it can be managed--but pray, introduce me to your sister. Miss Barham, how do you do?" Miss Barham drew back. "I must beg to decline the introduction, sir," she said; "I have no inclination to make your acquaintance; I told William so, this morning, and he might have saved me the pain of seeing you here, as his only pretext was an appointment to meet you, and it seems that you had joined each other before you came in." "Hey! how is this, Barham?" exclaimed the other; "I thought you had talked to her about it all." "So I did," replied William Barham; "but she is foolish. I tell you what, Helen; this wont do--you don't know what you are about; and it is all nonsense, too, because you have often told me about such things that--" "It will so far do, William," replied Helen Barham, interrupting him, "that I will beg you will leave me my rooms to myself. If you do not, I must take means to free myself from society I do not like." Thus saying, she passed through the door leading into another chamber, and was heard to lock it behind her.