fairy, sir--with golden hair, and a bright smile that haunts me
still. I exchanged a few remarks with her regarding the beauty of
the day, and thus allegorically referred to the beauty of herself--a
charming flight of fancy, I think, sir.'

'It must have been Kitty Marchurst,' said Villiers, not attending to
the latter portion of Mr Wopples' remarks.

'Ah, indeed,' said Mr Wopples, lightly, 'how beautiful is the name
of Kitty; it suggests poetry immediately--for instance:

Kitty, ah Kitty, You are so pretty, Charming and witty, That 'twere
a pity I sung not this ditty In praise of my Kitty.

On the spur of the moment, sir, I assure you; does it not remind you
of Herrick?'

Mr Villiers bluntly said it did not.

'Ah! perhaps it's more like Shakespeare?' observed the actor, quite
unabashed. 'You think so?'

Mr Villiers was doubtful, and displayed such anxiety to get away
that Mr Wopples held out his hand to say goodbye.

'You'll excuse me, I know,' said Mr Wopples, in an apologetic tone,
'but the show commences at eight, and it is now half-past six. I
trust I shall see you tonight.'

'It's very kind of you to give me this ticket,' said Villiers, in