“You see how that woman hates you, Deuceace,” says my lord, one day, in a fit of cander, after they had been talking about Lady Griffin: “SHE HAS NOT DONE WITH YOU YET, I tell you fairly.” “Curse her,” says master, in a fury, lifting up his maim'd arm--“curse her! but I will be even with her one day. I am sure of Matilda: I took care to put that beyond the reach of a failure. The girl must marry me, for her own sake.” “FOR HER OWN SAKE! O ho! Good, good!” My lord lifted his i's, and said gravely, “I understand, my dear boy: it is an excellent plan.” “Well,” says master, grinning fearcely and knowingly at his exlent old father, “as the girl is safe, what harm can I fear from the fiend of a step-mother?” My lord only gev a long whizzle, and, soon after, taking up his hat, walked off. I saw him sawnter down the Plas Vandome, and go in quite calmly to the old door of Lady Griffinses hotel. Bless his old face! such a puffickly good-natured, kind-hearted, merry, selfish old scoundrel, I never shall see again. His lordship was quite right in saying to master that “Lady Griffin hadn't done with him.” No moar she had. But she never would have thought of the nex game she was going to play, IF SOMEBODY HADN'T PUT HER UP TO IT. Who did? If you red the above passidge, and saw how a venrabble old genlmn took his hat, and sauntered down the Plas Vandome (looking hard and kind at all the nussary-maids--buns they call them in France--in the way), I leave you to guess who was the author of the nex scheam: a woman, suttnly, never would have pitcht on it. In the fuss payper which I wrote concerning Mr. Deuceace's adventers, and his kind behayvior to Messrs. Dawkins and Blewitt, I had the honor of laying before the public a skidewl of my master's detts, in witch was the following itim: “Bills of xchange and I.O.U.'s, 4963L. 0s. 0d.” The I.O.U.se were trifling, say a thowsnd pound. The bills amountid to four thowsnd moar. Now, the lor is in France, that if a genlmn gives these in England, and a French genlmn gits them in any way, he can pursew the Englishman who has drawn them, even though he should be in France. Master did not know this fact--laboring under a very common mistak, that, when onst out of England, he might wissle at all the debts he left behind him. My Lady Griffin sent over to her slissators in London, who made arrangemints with the persons who possest the fine collection of ortografs on stampt paper which master had left behind him; and they were glad enuff to take any oppertunity of getting back their money. One fine morning, as I was looking about in the court-yard of our hotel, talking to the servant-gals, as was my reglar custom, in order to improve myself in the French languidge, one of them comes up to me and says, “Tenez, Monsieur Charles, down below in the office there is a bailiff, with a couple of gendarmes, who is asking for your master--a-t-il des dettes par hasard?”