same direction. A desperate,
heart-stricken man, he passed by the beloved's door, saw lights in the
front drawing-room, felt probably that she was there; but he could not
go in. Moodily he paced down Doughty Street, and turning abruptly
into Bedford Row, rushed into his own chambers, where Mrs. Snooks, the
laundress, had prepared his humble Sabbath meal.

A cheerful fire blazed in his garret, and Mrs. Snooks had prepared for
him the favourite blade-bone he loved (blest four-days' dinner for
a bachelor--roast, cold, hashed, grilled bladebone, the fourth being
better than the first); but although he usually did rejoice in this
meal--ordinarily, indeed, grumbling that there was not enough to satisfy
him--he, on this occasion, after two mouthfuls, flung down his knife and
fork, and buried his two claws in his hair.

"Snooks," said he at last, very moodily, "remove this d---- mutton, give
me my writing things, and some hot brandy-and-water."

This was done without much alarm: for you must know that Perkins used to
dabble in poetry, and ordinarily prepare himself for composition by this
kind of stimulus.

He wrote hastily a few lines.

"Snooks, put on your bonnet," said he, "and carry this--YOU KNOW WHERE!"
he added, in a hollow, heart-breaking tone of voice, that affected poor
Snooks almost to tears. She went, however, with the note, which was to
this purpose:--

"Lucy! Lucy! my soul's love--what, what has happened? I am writing
this"--(a gulp of brandy-and-water)--"in a state bordering on
distraction--madness--insanity" (another). "Why did you send me out of
the coach in that cruel cruel way? Write to me a word, a line--tell
me, tell me, I may come to you--and leave me not in this agonising
condition; your faithful" (glog--glog--glog--the whole glass)--"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 m