Mary Cuthbert had been conveyed to bed by some of the servants, and when she had recovered her senses, the horrid recollection of the scene which had deprived her of them, recurred with such force to her mind, that it required all her resolution to prevent herself from being again overcome; her whole frame was unhinged, and she was glad to be alone in her chamber, though it was in vain that she courted sleep, for the noise from without would have effectually precluded it, even had her reflections been of a tranquillizing nature.

The Chevalier D'Aubert was not a little rejoiced at being again returned to the Villa with a whole skin, as some epithets had reached his ears, which led him to believe that he had been in a dangerous situation. Now he appeared as the ready Mercury of Miss Moreton; and, in distributing her rewards to the almost ‘countless multitude,’ he came in for no small share of their favour.

Germ was very much hurt at the loss of his summer hat, and the demolition of his green eyes; he could get no glasses to suit him nearer than London, where his optician resided. ‘The Spectacle de la Nature’ was no spectacle to him now he had lost those assistances of vision; and he determined to leave the Attic Villa as soon as possible; besides he had been taken for a Frenchman – a stigma which he felt very severely; though, knowing Miss Moreton's sentiments, and how highly the Chevalier stood in her favour, he wisely kept his mortification on this account to himself.

Copy stared, and whistled at Miss Moreton's florid account of the public adulation which she had received.