"I didn't know your money was so locked up!" exclaimed Frank, looking mightily stupid, in spite of his strenuous endeavours to appear perfectly happy and contented. "I thought your fortune was at your own disposal?"

"Certainly—the interest," responded Mrs. Curtis, now finding by her husband's manner that her worst fears were considerably strengthened.

"The devil!" murmured Frank petulantly.

"What did you say, dearest?" asked the lady.

"Oh! nothing, love—only that it doesn't signify at all, so long as we have the interest of the money settled on your children—and that's five thousand a year."

"Which, with your five thousand a year, makes us ten, love," added the lady, eyeing him askance.

"To be sure!" said Frank: and, walking to the window, he hummed a tune to conceal his desperate vexation.

This worthy pair had, however, each a consolation left—one real, the other imaginary.

The real consolation was on the side of the lady, who had saved herself from the danger of a debtor's prison by marrying Mr. Curtis. The imaginary consolation was the idea which this gentleman nourished that his amiable spouse enjoyed at all events the annual income of five thousand pounds. Moreover, as he glanced round the elegantly furnished drawing-room, and in imagination at all the other apartments in the dwelling, he thought to himself, "Well, hang it! with five thousand a year and this splendid house, I think I can manage to make myself pretty comfortable. Of course every thing's paid for—and that's a blessing!"

Scarcely had Mr. Curtis disposed of this solacing reflection, when the livery servant entered to announce that "dinner was served up."

Frank offered his arm to his lady in the most jaunty manner possible—for, as the reader may suppose, he had many reasons to induce him to be uncommonly attentive to one who (as he thought) held the purse; and the lady, on her side, accepted in a most charming manner the homage thus paid her—because she was not as yet quite certain that her husband's property was really aerial, and even if it should prove so, he must become the scapegoat between herself and her ravenous creditors.

Indeed the little tokens of endearment which the "happy couple" thought it fit to lavish upon each other as they descended the stairs, created such huge delight on the part of the livery servant following them, that this individual, totally forgetting the dignity which should have accompanied such a gorgeous livery, actually and positively diverted himself by means of that wonderful arrangement of the hands commonly called "taking a sight."

The dinner passed off in the usual way; and when the cloth was removed and the domestic was about to retire, Frank exclaimed in an authoritative manner, "John, bring up a bottle of claret."

"Yes, sir—claret, sir?" said the servant, fidgetting about near the door, and glancing uneasily towards his mistress, who did not however happen to observe him.

"I specified claret as plain as I could speak, John," cried Mr. Curtis angrily; "and so make haste about it."

"Yes, sir,—only—" again hesitated the domestic.

"Only what?" vociferated Frank.

"Only there ain't none, sir," was the answer.

"No claret, John?" cried Mrs. Curtis, now taking part in the discussion.

"No ma'am. There was but two bottles of wine left when you went away, ma'am—with master—and them's the Port and Sherry on the table now ma'am."

"John, you must be mistaken!" exclaimed Frank. "Your mistress assured me that the cellar was well stocked——"

"Yes, my dear," interrupted Mrs. Curtis: "and I was so far right in telling you what I did, because on the very morning—the happy morning, dear, you know—when we went away, I wrote to Mr. Beeswing, my wine-merchant—or rather our wine-merchant, I should say—to order in a good stock of Port, Sherry, Champagne, and Claret."

"And what the devil, then, does Mr. Beeswing mean by this cursed neglect?" cried Frank. "There's Log, Wood, and Juice, my friend Lord Paddington's wine-merchants, who would be delighted to serve us. Did you know of this order, John, that your mistress gave?"

"Ye-e-s, sir—I did," was the stammering reply, delivered with much diffidence and many twirlings of the white napkin.

"Well, my dear—it is no use to make ourselves uncomfortable about the business," said Mrs. Curtis, evidently anxious to quash the subject at once. "You can put up with what there is to-day; and to-morrow you can give an order to your noble friend's wine-merchants. That will do, John—you can retire."

"No—by God! that will not do!" vociferated Frank. "This fellow Beeswing has behaved most shamefully. It's a regular insult—as the Prince of Gibraltar would call it! But I dare say he forgot it: and since you knew of the order, John, why the devil didn't you see that it was executed while we were away?"

"My dear——" began Mrs. Curtis, in a tone of remonstrance.

"Answer me, you fellow!" cried Frank, turning in a threatening way towards the domestic, and unable to resist the opportunity of indulging his bullying propensities. "Why the devil didn't you attend to the order given by your mistress?"

"Well, sir—and so I did," responded the servant, now irritated by the imperious manner of his master. "I went a dozen times to Beeswing's while you and missus was away."

"Frank, dear—do leave this to me," urged the lady.

"No, my dear—this concerns me, as the master of the house," exclaimed Frank, looking very pompous and very fierce. "Well, John—and what the deuce did Beeswing say when you did see him?"

"Please, sir, he said he'd rayther not," was the astounding answer.

Mr. Frank Curtis looked aghast.

"I always knew he was the most insulting fellow in the world—that Beeswing!" cried the lady, colouring deeply and affecting violent indignation. "But we will never deal with him again, I vow and declare! John, tell him to send in his bill——at once, mind——"

"He has, ma'am," interrupted the servant "In fact, there's a many letters waiting for master."

"Then why the devil didn't you give them to me before?" exclaimed Frank, not knowing precisely what to think of Mr. Beeswing's conduct, but in a very bad humour on account of the disappointment relative to the claret.

John, the servant, made no reply to the question last put to him, but advancing towards the table, produced from his pocket about thirty letters and other documents, all of which he laid before his master, his countenance the while wearing a most curious and very sinister expression, as much as to say, "You're a very bumptious kind of a young man; but these papers will, perhaps, bring you down a peg or two."

"You may retire," said Frank, savagely; and this intimation was forthwith obeyed. "Very curious conduct, that of Beeswing, my dear?" continued Mr. Curtis, as soon as the door had closed behind the servant.

"Very, dear—I can't make it out," responded Mrs. Curtis. "But pray don't bother yourself with those letters and papers now. They can't be very particular; and you will have more time to-morrow, dear."

"Oh! I can look over them, and we can go on talking all the same," said Frank: "because I can't think how the deuce so many letters should be addressed to me here—instead of at my own place;—I mean, I shouldn't have thought that such a lot of my friends would have already heard of our union, love," he added, with a tender glance towards the lady, who was sitting very much in the style figuratively represented in common parlance as being "on thorns."

And Mr. Curtis's visual rays, having thus benignly bent themselves on his companion, were once more fixed on the pile of letters and documents lying before him.

The lady tossed off a bumper of Port, and filled her glass again, in an evident fit of painful nervousness; while her husband opened the first letter, the contents of which ran as follow:—

"We beg to enclose our account for furniture supplied to Mrs. Curtis, late Mrs. Goldberry, and respectfully solicit an early settlement, as the bill has been running for a considerable time.

"The devil!" ejaculated Frank, as he cast his eyes over the inclosure: "'Bill delivered, £876 6s. 6d.' God bless my soul! that's a stinger! Why, I thought all the furniture must have been paid for, my dear?"

"Not exactly, love—you perceive," returned the lady. "One never pays an upholsterer's bill for so long a time, you know: indeed—it quite slipped my memory, it's such a trifle!"

"Well, so it is, dear," observed Frank, reassured by the calm and indifferent way in which his wife disposed of the trifle: and he proceeded to open another letter, which announced a second trifle in the ensuing manner:—

"We are desired by Messieurs Ore and Dross, jewellers, to apply to you for the payment of 377l. 10s. being the amount of debt contracted by your present wife, late Mrs. Goldberry, with our clients; and unless the same be paid, together with 6s. 8d. for cost of this application, within three days from the date hereof, we shall be compelled to have recourse to ulterior measures without farther notice.

"What a thundering lot of jewellery you must have, to be sure, dear!" exclaimed Frank, as he handed this letter to his wife. "But, 'pon my soul! I think you've been rather extravagant, love—haven't you?"

"Oh! my dear—ladies must have jewellery, you know," returned Mrs. Curtis; "and, after all I have paid Ore and Dross, I really am surprised at their importunity. But we will pay them, and have done with them, dear."

"So we will, love," responded Frank; "and I'll ask my friend the Duke of Hampstead to recommend his jeweller to us. But here's a precious letter! Why—what the deuce? There's a dozen pawnbroker's tickets in it, I declare!"

Mrs. Curtis fell back almost senseless in her chair, while her husband perused the ensuing letter:—

"i rite maddam 2 inform u that I can't sel the dewplikets wich u Placed in mi ands as seckeuraty for mi Bil and has u've married a gent wich as propperti i ope u'll now settel my Bil wich as bin a runnin for 18 munce and i ope u'll settel it soon leastways as soon has u cum ome becaus i ham in rale want of it being a loan widder wich as lorst mi Usban 2 yere cum missummer an having 5 young childern an another cumming bi axident but i shan't do so no more an shal be verry appy to go on washin for u wen u've pade this Bil wich is thirty fore pouns thrippense dere maddam pray do this 2 oblege me the instunt u cum ome u can send it upp by mr jon yure futman or els mi Littel gal shal wate on u at anny our u no i've never prest u an i tuk the dewplikits 2 oblege u but coodn't dew nuththink with them an now they've run out and its no falt of mine becaus i'd no munny to pay the interesk and u was gorn out of town with ure new usban wich i ear is a very fine young man wich I'm glad to ear for ure sak dere maddam eggskews this long letter becaus the doctor should say i shal be konfined this weak an its hard lines to ave no munney at such a time i arn't sent ome the last batch of linning becaus i ware obleged to mak a way with it butt I send the dewplikit of that has wel has the dewplikit of the wotch and chane an other trinklets wich i ope u'll reseave saf an now as u'r all rite and r a ritch wumman u'll not be angree with me for puttin ure linning upp the spont att such a crittikal moment dere maddam pray eggskews this riting wich i no is verry bad butt mi pen is verry bad an ime in grate pane wile i rite ure obejent umbal servant kummarn susan

"Madam, it's all a cursed plant!" vociferated Frank Curtis, starting from his seat, and throwing down the letter, during the perusal of which he had been scarcely able to control his impatience. "I see it all—it's a cursed imposition—an infernal plant—and I'm a—a—damned fool!"

Thus speaking, the young gentleman shook his better half violently by the shoulders; and she, having nothing to urge in explanation of the extraordinary letter of her washerwoman, screamed just loud enough to appear hysterical without alarming the servants and went off into a fit, as a matter of course.

"Fooled—duped—done brown, by God!" exclaimed Curtis, as he began to pace the room with no affected agitation. "Saddled with a wife and five children—overwhelmed with her debts and my own—and, what's a deuced sight worse, made an ass of! I've regularly sold myself, as my friend the Duke——no, damn the Duke! I'm in no humour for Dukes and that kind of nonsense now—I don't know a Duke, and never did—and never shall—and so it's no use telling a parcel of lies any more! Plague take this old cat with her half-dozen brats—or near upon that number——"

"And plague take you, then!" screeched the newly-married lady, recovering with most surprising abruptness from her fit, and starting up like a fury. "Why, you swindling scoundrel, how dare you call me names? I'll tear your eyes out, I will, if you say over again what you've just said."

"I say you're a regular adventuress!" cried Frank.

"And you are an impostor—a cheat!" yelled the lady.

"Your fortune is all a gammon!" exclaimed Curtis.

"And your's all moonshine!" retorted his wife.

"You've taken me in shameful!"

"And you've done the same to me!"

"You're——" cried Frank, nearly suffocated with rage.

"And so are you, whatever you're going to call me!" vociferated the late Mrs. Goldberry.

Curtis was unable to give forth any rejoinder; and Mrs. Curtis, resuming her seat, had recourse to the truly feminine alternative of bursting into tears.

A long pause ensued, constituting a truce to recriminations and vituperations for several minutes, and affording the pair leisure for reflection.

We will describe the ideas that gradually expanded in their minds, as such explanation will the more easily prepare the reader for the result of the quarrel.

Frank Curtis, on his side, recognized the grand truth, that what was done could not be undone; and then he came to the philosophical conviction, that it would be prudent to make the best of a bad job. He reflected on the folly of an exposure, which would be attended with immediate ruin;—bringing about his ears a host of creditors, who would only become the more clamorous when they were brought in contact with each other, and were placed in a condition to ascertain their number and compare the amounts of their claims. He fancied that by allowing himself to be represented as a man of property his wife might silence the creditors for a time, during which the war could be carried on; and though an explosion must sooner or later take place, yet it was some consolation to the young gentleman to think that the evil day might be postponed by keen manoeuvring and skilful generalship. He feared being laughed at much more than the idea of a debtor's prison; and delay was every thing to a man in his desperate circumstances. "There was no telling what might turn up;" and he thought that if he could only dazzle the eyes of his uncle Sir Christopher with fine stories relative to the brilliancy of the match which he had formed with the late Mrs. Goldberry, he might contrive to wheedle a large sum of money out of the old gentleman on some such pretext as a desire to discharge divers debts, and a disinclination to confess to his wife that he had contracted them.

On the other hand, Mrs. Curtis fell into a similar train of thought. It would, she fancied, be easy for her to visit the numerous creditors, assure them that she had as yet intercepted all the letters they had written to her husband, and implore them not to ruin her in his good opinion by exposing her liabilities to him. She even arranged in her head the very words which she would use when calling on them:—"My husband is about to sell an estate in Ireland, and the moment the purchase money is paid, I am sure to be enabled to obtain from him a sum sufficient to liquidate all my debts. Have a little forbearance, therefore, and all will be well." Thus she also recognised the utter inutility and monstrous folly of exposing themselves by means of quarrels; and as their minds were, by these parallel systems of reasoning, prepared for reconciliation—or at least the show of it—the making up of their dispute was no very difficult matter.

Frank was the one to break the ice with the first overture.

"Well, I think we're two pretty fools," he said, approaching the chair in which she was rocking herself to and fro: "don't you?"

"To alarm all the house, and let our servants know every thing," added the lady.

"No—no: it isn't so bad as that yet," returned Frank. "But I vote that we have no more quarrels."

"I am sure I agree to the proposition, Frank," was the answer.

"It's carried then, without a dissentient voice," exclaimed Curtis; "as my friend the Duke——"

"Let us have no more falsehoods," interrupted his wife. "You said just now that you knew no Duke—never had known one—and never should——"

"But I thought you was in a fit at that moment, my dear?" said Frank.

"Maybe I was—but still I could hear all that passed, as you very well know. However, let us be good friends, and hold a consultation how we are to proceed."

"Good!" cried Frank. "And we will begin with a glass of wine each. There—let us drink each other's health. Here's to you, my dear. And now to business. I suppose all these letters and bills are about unpaid debts of yours?"

"Precisely so, love," answered Mrs. Curtis.

"How much do you think they amount to?"

"About eighteen hundred pounds, I should say?"

"And how much money have you got towards paying them, dear?" inquired Frank.

"Eighteen-pence, love," responded the lady, extracting that sum from her pocket.

There was a pause, during which Frank Curtis refilled the glasses; and then the "happy pair" looked inquiringly at each other, as much as to ask, "Well, what shall we do?"

"This is devilish awkward!" observed Frank. "But I'll tell you what I've been thinking of."

"I am all attention, dear," said his better half.

Mr. Curtis then conveyed in words the substance of those reflections which we have recorded above, and which had bent his mind towards a reconciliation.

"I entirely approve of all you say," remarked Mrs. Curtis; "and I will now tell you what I have been thinking of."

"Fire away, love," was her husband's encouraging observation.

The lady detailed, in her turn, the reflections which had occupied her mind a few minutes previously.

"Then we both hold the same opinions?" exclaimed Frank.

"Exactly. And if we play our cards well, there is no immediate danger of any thing," remarked the lady.

"But all the threatened writs—the probability of a sudden arrest—and the clamours of such small tradesmen or other persons as your delectable washerwoman, who is about to add to her family two years after the death of her husband?" exclaimed Frank interrogatively.

"I have trinkets, plate, and such like things which will realise a hundred pounds," said Mrs. Curtis; "and with that sum we can settle the little claimants, who are always more noisy and clamourous than the large ones."

The colloquy had just reached this highly satisfactory point, when a tremendous double knock threatened to beat in the front door, and the bell was instantaneously afterwards set ringing in frantic accompaniment.

"Some one's ill," cried Frank, "and they take this house for a Doctor's."

"At all events it is no dun," observed Mrs. Curtis.

Here the thundering knock and insane ring were repeated.

"I just tell you what, my dear," resumed the young gentleman, rising from his chair, and looking as fierce as possible: "I've a deuced great mind to go out and ask who the devil it is that dares knock and ring twice in half a minute at our door in that fashion. I'm certain it's no friend of your's—and it's none of mine. So—as sure as my name is Francis Curtis, Esquire, of Baker Street—I'll—"

But at this instant the dining-room door was thrown open by the domestic in gorgeous livery; and the countenance of the warlike Francis Curtis, Esquire, of Baker Street, grew white as a sheet, when the servant announced—"Captain O'Blunderbuss!"