When the summons to the breakfast-table was delivered, I felt it a first draft upon the assurance of a bashful Irishman, and I would have freely sacrificed a month’s pay, to have been permitted to slip off without any flourish of trumpets. It was bad enough to face my worthy mentor,--him, to whom especially both my morality and expenditure had been consigned. But it was the quaker’s womankind whom I had most cause to dread--ladies swindled out of a kiss under false pretences,--how the deuce was I to encounter the chaste indignation, which the recollection of that felonious _accolade_ would assuredly call forth? My foot stuck to the last step of the staircase, as if it had been glued there; and there I stood, in the comfortable position of a person who is ashamed to retreat, and afraid to go forward. The chief butler, however, brought matters to a crisis. Emerging from the lower regions by a back stair, he entered the breakfast-room, and I had the satisfaction to hear him announce, in a voice intended only to be audible to those within, that “the drunken gentleman was in the hall,” accompanied with a-running-commentary of, “What impudence some people have!” The remark, under existing circumstances, was not an encouraging one; and it would have afforded me unspeakable delight to have seen Mr. Costigan under the bastinado. Yet nothing, indeed, but that quality which it was insinuated I possessed extensively, would bear me through; and, after invoking the powers of impudence, in I desperately ventured. But to my offendings mercy had been extended. Had I been an expected visitor, Mr. Pryme’s reception could not have been kinder,--and his stiff helpmate inquired, “Had I rested well?” Rachael,--oh! _how_ that plain peaked muslin, which vainly strove to hide a profusion of auburn hair, became her! She, sweet girl, bade me a timid good-morrow, and then, blushing to the very brows, dropped her dovelike eyes upon the table-cloth. All this was passing strange--strange that the felonious invasion of a quiet domicile at midnight should elicit no objection--and, stranger still--the kiss of peace appeared to have totally escaped the memories of all parties save myself, implicated in the transaction! Breakfast ended--the old lady withdrew--and Mr. Pryme asked me to walk with him to his counting-house. Requesting leave of absence for ten minutes to arrange some domestic matters before he should leave home, the quaker retired from the parlour, and Rachael and I were left to entertain each other as we best could. For a short time our mutual position was embarrassing. I did not know exactly what to say; and the fair puritan maintained a solemn silence, with her sparkling eyes fixed steadily upon the carpet. It was quite apparent that I was expected to lead off; and, after an awkward pause, the ice at last was broken. “Miss Pryme”--I commenced. “Friend,” returned the young lady, “I am not thus termed; I am simply called Rachael.”