as if he had performed the operation in his own dressing-room.

The Captain, having gained his point, walked away, making, however,
various grimaces of disgust, and whispering from side to side "he's
the most petrifying fellow I ever was _obsede_ by!"

Mr Briggs then, with much derision, and sundry distortions of
countenance, listened to an Italian song; after which, he bustled back
to the outer apartment, in search of Cecilia, who, ashamed of seeming
a party in the disturbance he had excited, had taken the opportunity
of his dispute with the Captain, to run into the next room; where,
however, he presently found her, while she was giving an account to Mr
Gosport of her connection with him, to which Morrice, ever curious and
eager to know what was going forward, was also listening.

"Ah, little chick!" cried he, "got to you again! soon out jostle those
jemmy sparks! But where's the supper? see nothing of the supper! Time
to go to bed,--suppose there is none; all a take in; nothing but a
little piping."

"Supper, Sir?" cried Cecilia; "the Concert is not over yet. Was supper
mentioned in your card of invitation?"

"Ay, to be sure, should not have come else. Don't visit often; always
costs money. Wish I had not come now; wore a hole in my shoe; hardly a
crack in it before."

"Why you did not walk, Sir?"

Did, did; why not? Might as well have stayed away though; daubed my