Scene.-MILLIKEN'S villa at Richmond; two drawing-rooms opening into one another. The late MRS. MILLIKEN'S portrait over the mantel-piece; bookcases, writing-tables, piano, newspapers, a handsomely furnished saloon. The back-room opens, with very large windows, on the lawn and pleasure-ground; gate, and wall-over which the heads of a cab and a carriage are seen, as persons arrive. Fruit, and a ladder on the walls. A door to the dining-room, another to the sleeping-apartments, &c. JOHN.-Everybody out; governor in the city; governess (heigh-ho ) walking in the Park with the children; ladyship gone out in the carriage. Let's sit down and have a look at the papers. Buttons fetch the Morning Post out of Lady Kicklebury's room. Where's the Daily News, sir? PAGE.-Think it's in Milliken's room. JOHN.-Milliken you scoundrel What do you mean by Milliken? Speak of your employer as your governor if you like; but not as simple Milliken. Confound your impudence you'll be calling me Howell next. PAGE.-Well I didn't know. YOU call him Milliken. JOHN.-Because I know him, because I'm intimate with him, because there's not a secret he has but I may have it for the asking; because the letters addressed to Horace Milliken, Esq., might as well be addressed John Howell, Esq., for I read 'em, I put 'em away and docket 'em, and remember 'em. I know his affairs better than he does: his income to a shilling, pay his tradesmen, wear his coats if I like. I may call Mr. Milliken what I please; but not YOU, you little scamp of a clod-hopping ploughboy. Know your station and do your business, or you don't wear THEM buttons long, I promise you. Exit Page.]