"Much obligated, and good-night. I have a long journey to take to set
down this here young lady; and the best thing we can all do is to get
home as fast as we can, and have a refreshing cup of tea--that's my mind,
sir. Excuse me!"

Thus abruptly dismissed, poor Percival gazed wistfully on his Helen as
she was borne along, and was somewhat comforted at seeing her look back
with (as he thought) a touch of regret in her parting smile. Then
suddenly it flashed across him how sadly he had wasted his time. Novice
that he was, he had not even learned the name and address of his new
acquaintance. At that thought he hurried on through the crowd, but only
reached the object of his pursuit just in time to see her placed in a
coach, and to catch a full view of the luxuriant proportions of Mrs.
Mivers as she followed her into the vehicle.

As the lumbering conveyance (the only coach on the stand) heaved itself
into motion, Percival's eye fell on the sweeper, who was still leaning on
his broom, and who, in grateful recognition of the unwonted generosity
that had repaid his service, touched his ragged hat, and smiled drowsily
on his young customer. Love sharpens the wit and animates the timid; a
thought worthy of the most experienced inspired Percival St. John; he
hurried to the sweeper, laid his hand on his patchwork coat, and said
breathlessly,--

"You see that coach turning into the square? Follow it,--find out where
it sets down. There's a sovereign for you; another if you succeed. Call
and tell me your success. Number ---- Curzon Street! Off, like a shot!"

The sweeper nodded and grinned; it was possibly not his first commission
of a similar kind. He darted down the street; and Percival, following