cried Lady Frances. “So, positively, gentlemen, I stop the way. But, Mr. Temple, to comfort you--for I never saw a man, gallant or ungallant, look so impatient--I shall not be able to stay above a moment--Thank you, Mrs. Percy, I can’t sit down--Mrs. Crabstock, the crossest of Crabstocks and stiffest of pattern-women, is in the carriage waiting for me. Give me joy--I have accomplished my purpose, and without Lady Jane Granville’s assistance--obtained a permit to go with Lady Trant, and made her take me to Lady Angelica’s last night. Grand conversazione!--Saw the German baron! Caught both the profiles--have ‘em here--defy you not to smile. Look,” cried her ladyship, drawing out of her _reticule_ a caricature, which she put into Caroline’s hand; and, whilst she was looking at it, Lady Frances went on speaking rapidly. “Only a sketch, a scrawl in pencil, while they thought I was copying a Sonnet to Wisdom--on the worst bit of paper, too, in the world--old cover of a letter I stole from Lady Trant’s _reticule_ while she was at cards. Mr. Temple, you shall see my _chef-d’oeuvre_ by and by; don’t look at the reverse of the medal, pray. Did not I tell you, you were the most impatient man in the world?” It was true that Mr. Temple was at this instant most impatient to get possession of the paper, for on the back of that cover of the letter, on which the caricature was drawn, the hand-writing of the direction appeared to him--He dared scarcely believe his eyes--his hopes. “Mrs. Crabstock, my lady,” said the footman, “is waiting.” “I know, sir,” said Lady Frances: “so, Caroline, you won’t see the likeness. Very well; if I can’t get a compliment, I must be off. When you draw a caricature, I won’t praise it. Here! Mr. Temple, one look, since you are dying for it.” “One look will not satisfy me,” cried Mr. Temple, seizing the paper: “your ladyship must leave the drawing with us till to-morrow.” “_Us--must_. Given at our court of St. James’s. Lord Oldborough’s own imperative style.” “Imperative! no; humbly I beseech your ladyship, thus humbly,” cried Mr. Temple, kneeling in jest, but keeping in earnest fast hold of the paper. “But why--why? Are you acquainted with Lady Angelica? I did not know you knew her.” “It is excellent!--It is admirable!--I cannot let it go. This hand that seized it long shall hold the prize.” “The man’s mad! But don’t think I’ll give it to you--I would not give it to my mother: but I’ll lend it to you, if you’ll tell me honestly why you want it.” “Honestly--I want to show it to a particular friend, who will be delighted with it.” “Tell me who, this minute, or you shall not have it.” “Mrs. Crabstock, my lady, bids me say, the duchess--” “The duchess--the deuce!--if she’s come to the duchess, I must go. I hope your man, Mrs. Percy, won’t tell Mrs. Crabstock he saw this gentleman kneeling.” “Mrs. Crabstock’s getting out, my lady,” said the footman, returning. “Mr. Temple, for mercy’s sake, get up.”