I remember the day when I was ill after one of their rude debauches.

Ill!--a sick headache--a fit of the spleen--a spoiled lapdog's illness! Well: they wanted me that night to support one of their paltry measures--their parliamentary measures.

And I had a prince feeling my pulse, and a duke mixing my draught, and a dozen earls sending their doctors to me.

I was of use to them then! Poor me! Read me that note, Constance--Flamborough's note.

Do you hesitate?
Read it, I say!" Constance trembled and complied.
"My dear Vernon, "I am really au desespoir to hear of your melancholy state;--so sorry I cannot assist you: but you know my embarrassed circumstances.