“Oh! he is a bachelor attorney, and lives in chambers, Wilmot: and you know the character of that class of men is quite obnoxious in cases of reputation: but let him have his way; I must be his martyr, I see.” “Come, come, sir,--right or wrong, be civil to a lady.” “What, do you think I'll make a Jack-pudding of myself?” “Stop his mouth, Wilmot: don't let him speak; for I hear the creak of Mr. Blennerhagen's boot.” The lady and her woman now seized on the astonished attorney, and thrust him into a closet. The door was instantly closed on him, and the key turned in the lock. Mrs. Blennerhagen returned to the sofa; and Wilmot was applying a smelling-bottle to her nose, bathing her brows, &c., as though she was just reviving from a fainting fit, when the majestic Blennerhagen entered the room. With a keen and hurried glance he seemed to survey every object around him, while he closed the door: he then approached the sofa, and uttered a few endearing epithets while he relieved Wilmot from the task of supporting her mistress. 'Anxious to get rid of him, Mrs. Blennerhagen rapidly recovered; and her husband having, apparently by accident, mentioned that he had left a friend in the parlour, she urged him, by all means, to return ta his guest, as she found herself comparatively well, and desirous of obtaining a little repose. Blennerhagen kissed her cheek; and after recommending her to the care of Wilmot, passed round the sofa to a writing-desk, which was placed on a table behind it, where he remained a few moments, and then hastily withdrew. Mrs. Blennerhagen immediately resumed her activity. “Now, my dear Wilmot,” said she, “our only hope is to get the attorney down the back stairs, and away through the garden.” “That is how I have settled it, madam, in my own mind,” said the woman: “master won't be up again at least these ten minutes.” “If you have any pity, emancipate me from this state of torture,” groaned poor Burdock: “I would face a roaring lion rather than remain here any longer; my reflections are most poignant.” “Gracious Heaven!” exclaimed Mrs. Blennerhagen, “I've lost the key.” “Then, of course, you will permit me to burst open the door,” said the attorney. “Not on any account: be patient, I beseech you. Wilmot, where could I have put it?” “I don't know, madam; you locked the door yourself: search in your bosom.” “I have; but it is not there:--nor on the sofa,--nor any where. You must have had it.” “Indeed, madam, I never saw it since you took it off the shelf to lock the door.” “Women!” exclaimed Burdock, whose patience was completely worn out; “rash, mischievous, accursed women! take notice that I am become desperate; and if you do not find the key and release me instantly, I shall certainly break out, and depart, at all hazards.” “For all our sakes have patience, sir,” said the lady, in a soothing tone; “be quiet but for a few moments: I hear Mr. Blennerhagen's boot again.”