moment upon a man who looked so exquisitely foolish.

"Miss Lucy Gorgon, is your aunt--is Mrs. Briggs here?" said Lady
Gorgon, drawing herself up with much state.

"Mrs. Biggs, Aunt?" said Lucy demurely.

"Biggs or Briggs, madam, it is not of the slightest consequence. I
presume that persons in my rank of life are not expected to know
everybody's name in Magdeburg Square?" (Lady Gorgon had a house in
Baker Street, and a dismal house it was.) "NOT here," continued
she, rightly interpreting Lucy's silence, "NOT here?--and may I ask
how long is it that young ladies have been allowed to walk abroad
without chaperons, and to--to take a part in such scenes as that
which we have just seen acted?"

To this question--and indeed it was rather difficult to answer--Miss
Gorgon had no reply. There were the six grey eyes of her cousins
glowering at her; there was George Augustus Frederick examining her
with an air of extreme wonder, Mademoiselle the governess turning
her looks demurely away, and awful Lady Gorgon glancing fiercely at
her in front. Not mentioning the footman and poodle, what could a
poor modest timid girl plead before such an inquisition, especially
when she was clearly guilty? Add to this, that as Lady Gorgon, that
majestic woman, always remarkable for her size and insolence of
demeanour, had planted herself in the middle of the path, and spoke
at the extreme pitch of her voice, many persons walking in the
neighbourhood had heard her Ladyship's speech and stopped, and
seemed disposed to await the rejoinder.