minutes, is one of the latter class. She is evidently waiting for
somebody, and though she may have made up her mind to go to church
with him one of these mornings, I don't think they have any such
intention on this particular afternoon. Here he is, at last. The
white trousers, blue coat, and yellow waistcoat--and more
especially that cock of the hat--indicate, as surely as inanimate
objects can, that Chalk Farm and not the parish church, is their
destination. The girl colours up, and puts out her hand with a
very awkward affectation of indifference. He gives it a gallant
squeeze, and away they walk, arm in arm, the girl just looking back
towards her 'place' with an air of conscious self-importance, and
nodding to her fellow-servant who has gone up to the two-pair-of-
stairs window, to take a full view of 'Mary's young man,' which
being communicated to William, he takes off his hat to the fellow-
servant: a proceeding which affords unmitigated satisfaction to
all parties, and impels the fellow-servant to inform Miss Emily
confidentially, in the course of the evening, 'that the young man
as Mary keeps company with, is one of the most genteelest young men
as ever she see.'

The two young people who have just crossed the road, and are
following this happy couple down the street, are a fair specimen of
another class of Sunday--pleasurers. There is a dapper smartness,
struggling through very limited means, about the young man, which
induces one to set him down at once as a junior clerk to a
tradesman or attorney. The girl no one could possibly mistake.
You may tell a young woman in the employment of a large dress-
maker, at any time, by a certain neatness of cheap finery and
humble following of fashion, which pervade her whole attire; but
unfortunately there are other tokens not to be misunderstood--the