"J.P."

He never signed John Perkins in full--he couldn't, it was so
unromantic.

Well, this missive was despatched by Mrs. Snooks, and Perkins, in a
fearful state of excitement, haggard, wild, and with more
brandy-and-water, awaited the return of his messenger.

When at length, after about an absence of forty years, as it seemed
to him, the old lady returned with a large packet, Perkins seized it
with a trembling hand, and was yet more frightened to see the
handwriting of Mrs. or Miss Biggs.

"MY DEAR MR. PERKINS," she began--"Although I am not your soul's
adored, I performed her part for once, since I have read your
letter, as I told her. You need not be very much alarmed, although
Lucy is at this moment in bed and unwell: for the poor girl has had
a sad scene at her grand uncle's house in Baker Street, and came
home very much affected. Rest, however, will restore her, for she
is not one of your nervous sort; and I hope when you come in the
morning, you will see her as blooming as she was when you went out
to-day on that unlucky walk.

"See what Sir George Gorgon says of us all! You won't challenge
him, I know, as he is to be your uncle, and so I may show you his
letter.

"Good-night, my dear John. Do not go QUITE distracted before
morning; and believe me your loving aunt,