just in time to see the two ladies step out of Lady Gorgon's
carriage at her own house, and to hear Jerningham's fellow-footman
roar to the Gorgonian coachman, "Half-past seven!" at which hour we
are, to this day, convinced that Lady Gorgon was going out to dine.
Mr. Jerningham's associate having banged to the door, with an
insolent look towards Perkins, who was prying in with the most
suspicious and indecent curiosity, retired, exclaiming, "That chap
has a hi to our great-coats, I reckon!" and left John Perkins to
pace the street and be miserable.

John Perkins then walked resolutely up and down dismal Baker Street,
determined on an eclaircissement. He was for some time occupied in
thinking how it was that the Gorgons were not at church, they who
made such a parade of piety; and John Perkins smiled as he passed
the chapel, and saw that two CHARITY SERMONS were to be preached
that day--and therefore it was that General Gorgon read prayers to
his family at home in the morning.

Perkins, at last, saw that little General, in blue frock-coat and
spotless buff gloves, saunter scowling home; and half an hour before
his arrival had witnessed the entrance of Jerningham, and the three
gaunt Miss Gorgons, poodle, son-and-heir, and French governess,
protected by him, into Sir George's mansion.

"Can she be going to stay all night?" mused poor John, after being
on the watch for three hours: when presently, to his inexpressible
delight, he saw a very dirty hackney-coach clatter up to the Gorgon
door, out of which first issued the ruby plush breeches and stalwart
calves of Mr. Jerningham; these were followed by his body, and then
the gentleman, ringing modestly, was admitted.