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Whilst Miss Hodges spoke, the ready Nat poured out a fresh glass of that restorative, which he always had ready for cases of life and death; and she screamed and sipped, and sipped and screamed, as the constable took up Angelina in his arms, and carried her towards the door.

“Mrs. Innocence,” said the man, “you shall see whom you shall see.”

Mrs. Puffit opened the door; and, to the utter astonishment of every body present, Lady Diana Chillingworth entered the room, followed by Lady Frances Somerset and Mrs. Bertrand. The constable set down Angelina. Miss Hodges set down the glass of brandy. Mrs. Puffit curtsied. Betty Williams stretched out her arms to Lady Diana, crying, “Shave me! shave me this once!” Miss Warwick hid her face with her hands.

“Only my Valenciennes lace, that has been found in that girl’s pocket, and–” said Mrs. Puffit.

Lady Diana Chillingworth turned away with indescribable haughtiness, and, addressing herself to her sister, said, “Lady Frances Somerset, you would not, I presume, have Lady Diana Chillingworth lend her countenance to such a scene as this–I hope, sister, that you are satisfied now.” As she said these words, her ladyship walked out of the room.

“Never was further from being satisfied in my life,” said Lady Frances.

“If you look at this, my lady,” said the constable, holding out the lace, “you’ll soon be satisfied as to what sort of a young lady that is.”

“Oh, you mistake the young lady,” said Mrs. Bertrand, and she whispered to the constable. “Come away: you may be sure you’ll be satisfied–we shall all be satisfied, handsomely, all in good time. Don’t let the delinquency there on her knees,” added she aloud, pointing to Betty Williams–“don’t let the delinquency there on her knees escape.”

“Come along, mistress,” said the constable, pulling up Betty Williams from her knees. “But I say the law must have its course, if I am not satisfied.”

“Oh, I am confident,” said Mrs. Puffit, the milliner, “we shall all be satisfied, no doubt; but Lady Di. Chillingworth knows my Valenciennes lace, and Miss Burrage too, for they did me this morning the honour–“

“Will you do me the favour,” interrupted Lady Frances Somerset, “to leave us, good Mrs. Puffit, for the present? Here is some mistake–the less noise we make about it the better. You shall be satisfied.”

“Oh, your ladyship–I’m sure, I’m confident–I shan’t utter another syllable–nor never would have articulated a syllable about the lace (though Valenciennes, and worth thirty guineas, if it is worth a farthing), had I had the least intimacy or suspicion the young lady was your la’ship’s protegee. I shan’t, at any rate, utter another syllable.”

Mrs. Puffit, having glibly run off this speech, left the room, and carried in her train the constable and Betty Williams, the printer’s devil, and Mrs. Bertrand, the woman of the house.

Miss Warwick, whose confusion during this whole scene was excessive, stood without power to speak or move.

“Thank God, they are gone!” said Lady Frances; and she went to Angelina, and taking her hands gently from before her face, said, in a soothing tone, “Miss Warwick, your friend, Lady Frances Somerset, you cannot think that she suspects–“

“La, dear, no!” cried Nat Gazabo, who had now sufficiently recovered from his fright and amazement to be able to speak: “Dear heart! who could go for to suspect such a thing? but they made such a bustle and noise, they quite flabbergasted me, so many on them in this small room. Please to sit down, my lady.–Is there any thing I can do?”

“If you could have the goodness, sir, to leave us for a few minutes,” said Lady Frances, in a polite, persuasive manner–“you could have the goodness, sir, to leave us for a few minutes.”

Nat, who was not always spoken to by so gentle a voice, smiled, bowed, and was retiring, when Miss Hodges came forward with an air of defiance: “Aristocratic insolence!” exclaimed she: “Stop, Nat–stir not a foot, at your peril, at the word of command of any of the privileged orders upon earth–stir not a foot, at your peril, at the behest of any titled She in the universe!–Madam, or my lady–or by whatever other name more high, more low, you choose to be addressed–this is my husband.”