My lady bust into a fit of laffin, peel upon peel, as if it was the best joak in the world. De l'Orge giggled and grin'd too. “Pardong,” says he; “meal pardong, mong share munseer.” * And he looked as if he would have done it again for a penny. * In the long dialogues, we have generally ventured to change the peculiar spelling of our friend Mr. Yellowplush. The little Frenchman was quite in extasis; he found himself all of a suddn at the very top of the trea; and the laff for onst turned against his rivle: he actialy had the ordassaty to propose to my lady in English to take a glass of wine. “Veal you,” says he, in his jargin, “take a glas of Madere viz me, mi ladi?” And he looked round, as if he'd igsackly hit the English manner and pronunciation. “With the greatest pleasure,” says Lady G., most graciously nodding at him, and gazing at him as she drank up the wine. She'd refused master before, and THIS didn't increase his good-humer. Well, they went on, master snarling, snapping, and swearing, making himself, I must confess, as much of a blaggard as any I ever see; and my lady employing her time betwigst him and the shevalliay, doing every think to irritate master, and flatter the Frenchmn. Desert came: and by this time, Miss was stock-still with fright, the chevaleer half tipsy with pleasure and gratafied vannaty, my lady puffickly raygent with smiles and master bloo with rage. “Mr. Deuceace,” says my lady, in a most winning voice, after a little chaffing (in which she only worked him up moar and moar), “may I trouble you for a few of those grapes? they look delicious.” For answer, master seas'd hold of the grayp dish, and sent it sliding down the table to De l'Orge; upsetting, in his way, fruit-plates, glasses, dickanters, and heaven knows what. “Monsieur de l'Orge,” says he, shouting out at the top of his voice, “have the goodness to help Lady Griffin. She wanted MY grapes long ago, and has found out they are sour!” . . . . . . There was a dead paws of a moment or so. . . . . . . “Ah!” says my lady, “vous osez m'insulter, devant mes gens, dans ma propre maison--c'est par trop fort, monsieur.” And up she got, and flung out of the room. Miss followed her, screeching out, “Mamma--for God's sake--Lady Griffin!” and here the door slammed on the pair. Her ladyship did very well to speak French. DE L'ORGE WOULD NOT HAVE UNDERSTOOD HER ELSE; as it was he heard quite enough; and as the door clikt too, in the presents of me, and Messeers Mortimer and Fitzclarence, the family footmen, he walks round to my master, and hits him a slap on the face, and says, “prends ca, menteur et lache!” which means, “Take that, you liar and coward!”--rayther strong igspreshns for one genlmn to use to another.