late husband had been a wine merchant at Dijon--he had also, I suppose
from residing in that country, been imitating the patriarchs, for he died
one day. Well, the lady was delayed at Lyons for some law business, and
thus it came about, that her husband's testament and the sharp paving
stones in the streets determined we should be acquainted. I cannot
express to you the delight of my fair countrywoman at finding that a
person who spoke English had arrived at the 'pension'--a feeling I myself
somewhat participated in; for to say truth, I was not at that time a very
great proficient in French. We soon became intimate, in less time
probably than it could otherwise have happened, for from the ignorance of
all the others of one word of English, I was enabled during dinner to say
many soft and tender things, which one does not usually venture on in
company.

"I recounted my travels, and told various adventures of my wanderings,
till at last, from being merely amused, I found that my fair friend began
to be interested in my narratives; and frequently when passing the
bouillon to her, I have seen a tear in the corner of her eye: in a word,
'she loved me for the dangers I had passed,' as Othello says. Well,
laugh away if you like, but it's truth I am telling you." At this part
of Mr. O'Leary's story we all found it impossible to withstand the
ludicrous mock heroic of his face and tone, and laughed loud and long.
When we at length became silent he resumed--"Before three weeks had
passed over, I had proposed and was accepted, just your own way, Mr.
Lorrequer, taking the ball at the hop, the very same way you did at
Cheltenham, the time the lady jilted you, and ran off with your friend
Mr. Waller; I read it all in the news, though I was then in Norway
fishing." Here there was another interruption by a laugh, not, however,
at Mr. O'Leary's expense. I gave him a most menacing look, while he
continued--"the settlements were soon drawn up, and consisted, like all