“I 'll soon be able to inform you, my Lord, on every detail of the matter,” said she, proudly. “Our kind friend, yonder, Mr. Foglass, has undertaken to discover everything. Mr. F., will you touch his arm forme, Martha?” and, the gentleman being aroused to consciousness, now arose, and approached Mrs. Ricketts's chair, “may I be permitted to take a glance at your note-book?” This speech was accompanied by a pantomimic gesture which he quickly understood. “I wish to show you, my Lord,” said she, addressing the Viscount, “that we proceed most methodically in our searches after title, as I sometimes call it ha, ha, ha! Now, here is the precious little volume, and this will explain the degree of accuracy such an investigation demands. This comes of living abroad, my Lord,” added she, with a smile. “One never can be too cautious, never too guarded in one's intimacies. The number of dubious people one meets with, the equivocal characters that somehow obtain a footing in society here, I really must ask you to decipher these ingenious hieroglyphics yourself.” And she handed the book to his Lordship. He took it courteously at the spot she opened it; and as his eyes fell upon the page, a slight very slight flush rose to his cheek, while he continued to read the lines before him more than once over. “Very explicit, certainly!” said he, while a smile of strange meaning curled his lip; and then, closing the book, he returned it to the lady's hand; not, however, before he had adroitly torn out the page he had been looking at, and which contained the following words: “Norwood's affair the precise story of the N. M. business if cut in England, and scratched at the 'Whip.'” “I cannot sufficiently commend either your caution or your tact, Mrs. Ricketts,” said he, bowing urbanely. “Without a little scrutiny of this kind our salons would be overrun with blacklegs and bad characters!” It was now late, late enough for Lady Hester, and the Viscount rose to take his leave. He was perfectly satisfied with the results of his visit. He had secretly enjoyed all the absurdities of his hostess, and even stored up some of her charming flights for repetition elsewhere. He had damaged Haggerstone, whose evil-speaking he dreaded, and, by impugning his good breeding, had despoiled him of all credit. He had seen the Polish Count in a society which, even such as it was, was many degrees above his pretensions; and although they met without recognition, a masonic glance of intelligence had passed between them; and, lastly, he had made an ally of the dear Zoe herself, ready to swear to his good character, and vouch for the spotless honor of all his dealings on turf or card-table. “Has he explained the Newmarket affair, madam?” said Haggerstone, as the door closed on the Viscount's departure. “Perfectly, Colonel; there is not the shadow of a suspicion against him.” “And so he was not scr-scr-scratched at the 'Whip'?” cried Purvis, emerging from his leafy retreat.