Mowbray hastened back to his box, and how long it might be between my
return to the Jewess, and the arrival of the chair, I do not know: it
seemed to me not above two minutes, but Mowbray insisted upon it, that it
was a full quarter of an hour. He came to me again, just as I had received
one look of silent gratitude; and while I was putting the young lady into
the chair, and bustling Mrs. Coates was giving her orders and address to
the servant, Mowbray whispered me that my mother was in an agony, and had
sent him out to see what was become of me. Mrs. Coates, all thanks, and
apologies, and hurry, now literally elbowed her way back to her box,
expressing her reiterated fears that we should lose the best part of "The
Maid of the Oaks," which was the only farce she made it a rule ever to stay
for. In spite of her hurry and her incessant talking, I named the thing I
was intent upon. I said, that with her permission I should do myself the
honour of calling upon her the next morning to inquire after Miss Berry's
health.

"I am sure, sir," she replied, "Mr. Alderman Coates, and myself, will be
particularly glad of the honour of seeing you tomorrow, or any time; and
moreover, sir, the young lady," added she, with a shrewd, and to me
offensive smile, "the young lady no doubt's well worth inquiring after--a
great heiress, as the saying is, as rich as a Jew she'll be, Miss
Montenero."

"Miss Montenero!" repeated Lord Mowbray and I, in the same instant. "I
thought," said I, "this young lady's name was Berry.

"Berry, yes--Berry, we call her, we who are intimate, I call her for
short--that is short for Berenice, which is her out o' the way Christian,
that is, Jewish name. Mr. Montenero, the father, is a Spanish or American
Jew, I'm not clear which, but he's a charming man for a Jew, and the