In the circle of Metcalf’s acquaintance at Knaresborough were two young men, whose sister lived with them in the capacity of housekeeper; and she being of a jocular turn, would often, on Metcalf’s calling at the house, propose such whimsical schemes to him, as gave him reason to believe that to laugh and be merry was the chief business of her life. However, she one evening apprised him of her intention to pay him a visit in the night, and desired him to leave his door unlocked. A knowledge of the woman’s mirthful propensity made him at first consider this as a joke; but, on the other hand, he thought it _possible_ that a _real_ assignation was intended; and being too gallant to disappoint a _lady_, he told her he would obey her orders. Too sure for the future peace of Metcalf, the lady was punctual to her appointment; coming at the dead time of night to his mother’s house, unawed at passing by the _church_, whose sanction was wanting. It would be impertinent to detain the reader on the subject of the meeting: suffice it to say, that Metcalf too had unfortunately left his scruples at another house. In a few months after, this tender creature accosted him in the usual way—“I am ruined!—undone—lost for ever, if you do not make an honest woman of me!—” &c. &c. Whatever compunction Metcalf might have felt in a case of confiding innocence, pleading for the only compensation in his power, he did not think his conscience very deeply interested in the present: besides, his heart was strongly attached to his first truly respectable and worthy mistress.—His business, therefore, was to pacify a troublesome client, which he did in the best manner he was able. The adventure with this dulcinea had happened previous to the above-mentioned hunt; but when Metcalf accompanied the gentlemen from the Coney-Garths to the village of Scriven, he there heard, on the authority of the landlord of the inn, that a woman had gone that day to filiate a child to him. He endeavoured to be merry on the occasion, alledging, that it could not be so, as he had not _seen_ the woman for several years. This produced a laugh among the company; but with Metcalf it soon took a more serious turn. On his return to Harrogate he employed his fellow-fidler to procure a meeting between him and his favourite, Dorothy Benson, which was effected with some difficulty; and he took this occasion to inform her of his disgrace, judging it better to be before-hand with her, in a matter which could not be long concealed.—“Ah! John,” replied she, “thou hast got into a sad scrape: but I intreat thee, do not think of marrying her.” Having quieted the fears of his favourite on that score, he desired his assistant to go with him to Knaresborough, to _sound the coast_; but before they had got half way, his companion exclaimed, “Here is the Town-Officer coming!” Metcalf proposed walking smartly on, without noticing him; but when they got near, the Officer,