at seemed to stamp her profession as that of an abigail
(black cloak with long cape,--of that peculiar silk which seems spun
on purpose for ladies'-maids,--bonnet to match, with red and black
ribbons), hastened once more away, and in another moment the cab drove
off furiously.

What could all this mean? By this time the waiter brought Mr. Peacock
the half-and-half. He despatched it hastily, and then strode on towards
a neighboring stand of cabriolets. I followed him; and just as, after
beckoning one of the vehicles from the stand, he had ensconced himself
therein, I sprang up the steps and placed myself by his side. "Now, Mr.
Peacock," said I, "you will tell me at once how you come to wear that
livery, or I shall order the cabman to drive to Lady Ellinor Trevanion's
and ask her that question myself."

"And who the devil! Ah, you're the young gentleman that came to me
behind the scenes,--I remember."

"Where to, sir?" asked the cabman.

"To--to London Bridge," said Mr. Peacock. The man mounted the box and
drove on.

"Well, Mr. Peacock, I wait your answer. I guess by your face that you
are about to tell me a lie; I advise you to speak the truth."

"I don't know what business you have to question me," said Mr. Peacock,
sullenly; and raising his glance from his own clenched fists, he
suffered it to wander over my form with so vindictive a significance
that I interrupted the survey by saying, "'Will you encounter the
house?' as the Swan interrogatively puts it? Shall I order the cabman to
drive to St. James's Square?"

"Oh, you know my weak point, sir! Any man who can quote Will--sweet
Will--has me on the hip," rejoined Mr. Peacock, smoothing his
countenance and spreading his palms on his knees. "But if a man does
fall in the world, and after keeping servants of his own, is obliged to
be himself a servant,--

"'I will not shame To tell you what I am.'"

"The Swan says, 'To tell you what I was,' Mr. Peacock. But enough of
this trifling. Who placed you with Mr. Trevanion?"

Mr. Peacock looked down for a moment, and then fixing his eyes on me,
said, "Well, I'll tell you: you asked me, when we met last, about a
young gentleman,--Mr.--Mr. Vivian."

Pisistratus.--"Proceed."

Peacock.--"I know you don't want to harm him. Besides, 'He hath a
prosperous art,' and one day or other,--mark my words, or rather my
friend Will's,--

"'He will bestride this narrow world Like a Colossus.'

"Upon my life he will,