This is what is called a delicate question, though, according to our notion of matters in general, we think it an indelicate question. The colonel did not give an immediate reply to it, thinking that it neither needed nor deserved reply. According to the laws of honor, the gallant colonel should have demanded an apology or satisfaction for the insult, but he knew full well that apologies are but lies, and that he was very sure of obtaining satisfaction in a more digestible form than in that of a pistol ball. So the gallant one did not put himself into a passion, or bristle up with fierce resentment, but he merely said, “’Pon honor, I thought it was the lady that you meant.” Seeing that Colonel Crop was so very patient under the irritating language which his lordship used, Lord Spoonbill somewhat abated the violence of his wrath; and having been, by the colonel, brought into a difficulty, he now looked to the same valuable officer to bring him out of the difficulty. “Well, colonel,” said his lordship, “as you have been foolish enough to bring the lady here, you must be wise enough to take her back again.” “But how can I manage?” said the colonel; “what must I say to her to explain the affair?” “Oh, that is your concern,” replied his lordship; “but you may tell her, if you please, that Lord Smatterton has heard of my intention of marrying, and that he resolves to prevent it.” “But, won’t that be a lie?” replied the colonel. “Nonsense,” replied his lordship. We are very much of his lordship’s opinion. It was truly ridiculous for this unprincipled tool to make a scruple about a falsehood, after the line of conduct in which he had been engaged. While Colonel Crop, Lord Spoonbill, and Miss Glossop, were engaged, as mentioned above, Mr Glossop had called upon Zephaniah Pringle the critic, in order to learn from him the place of his lordship’s retreat, and to hear more particulars concerning his lordship’s probable designs towards Arabella. Zephaniah was at home, in all his glory, in a dressing gown and slippers, having a table covered with books and papers, playing the great solo farce of “We,” and thinking that all the world was thinking about nothing but himself. Mr Glossop introduced himself to the critic, by means of a letter from Charles Pringle, the rector of Smatterton. Mr Glossop looked like a person of some consequence. He had a mighty important air, and was indeed, in his own town and neighbourhood, a very important personage. Zephaniah received him graciously, gracefully, and politely. Zephaniah opened and read his cousin’s letter, shook his head, and looked very important and serious. “I am very sorry, sir,” said the critic, “for the unpleasant affair which brings you up to town, and I should be most happy to give you any assistance in my power towards recovering your daughter.”