He went boldly back to Pall Mall, ran across several acquaintances to whom Lord George Winston had made him known, and got one of them to introduce him to a certain respectable-looking house in Covent Garden; and in that house, whose interior showed an activity not promised by its outside, he won at faro an amount that filled every other player at the table with resentful envy. When he left, he felt himself again a made man; his pockets were heavy with money.

The night was well advanced when he issued from the gambling-house, enjoying the relief and the fresh air after the excitement and heat of the rooms. He walked to the Strand and turned towards Temple Bar, intending to sup at the Turk's Head Coffee-house. When he reached the Strand end of Catherine Street, he was accosted, with more than ordinary importunity, by one of the most miserable-looking of the frail creatures that walked the street there. As he was in the act of avoiding her, she called out his name in sudden recognition, and he then knew her as the gay young woman of High Holborn whom he had met at Vauxhall.

Struck with pity to see in so sad a plight a person recently so prosperous, he could not but walk along with her to hear her story. She had lost the means of support that had enabled her to live in a good neighborhood and flaunt her finery at Vauxhall, Ranelagh, and the Hampstead Assembly. She lodged no longer in High Holborn, nor even in Butcher's Row; in fact, she knew not where she was to pass that night. She showed, through all her cast-down demeanor, a decided reawakening of regard for Dick, and even hinted, after they had talked for some time, that her loss of favor had arisen from her acceptance of his escort from Vauxhall. So Dick gave her a few shillings for her immediate necessities, and told her to call at his lodging in Green Arbor Court on the morrow, when they would discuss what might be done for her. It was at her own suggestion that his residence was selected as the place of meeting.

But, on the morrow, she did not call at the appointed time. So Dick went out to attend to business of pressing importance, which was no other than to buy a new black suit and other necessaries. In the afternoon he went to Pall Mall and renewed acquaintances, saying he had returned to London the day before yesterday. Pumping a young gentleman whom he knew to be on close terms with the Mallby family, he learned that the dazzling heiress was still in town and that a place had been taken for her for that night's performance at the little theatre in the Haymarket. Dick hastened to secure a seat as near as possible to the box in which Miss Mallby was to be.

In the evening, which was that of Wednesday, July 10, attired in his best, Dick occupied a seat in the pit, in the midst of a crowded audience, and had the satisfaction of seeing not only the heiress, but also their Majesties, George III. and Queen Charlotte, who both laughed immoderately at Mr. Foote as "Lady Pentweazle,"—especially when he appeared under a vast head-dress filled with feathers, in exaggeration of the reigning mode.

It was some time before Dick's admiring gaze held the attention of Miss Mallby, which it caught while she scanned the crowded house from her box; and some time after that before she recalled who he was. But when she did recognize him, it was with a smile so radiant that Lord Alderby, then standing at her side, turned quite red and pale successively, and glared at Dick with a most deadly expression. In response to a slight movement of her fan, Dick forced his way to her, between acts, and had a brief chat about the audience, the weather, his supposed absence from town, Lord George Winston, and such matters, which in themselves certainly contained nothing to warrant the mischievous smiles on her part, and the languishing glances on his, that accompanied the talk.

Any one but Dick and Lord Alderby could have seen that the lady's sole motive was a desire to keep his lordship jealous. But Dick took all signs as they appeared on the surface, and when he left the playhouse it was with a flattering delusion that her hopes of seeing him soon again were from the heart. He did not observe that Lord Alderby, before handing Miss Mallby into her coach, pointed him out to a footman and hurriedly whispered some instructions.

Dick went on air to his room in Green Arbor Court,—for he intended to retain his lodging there until he should find a residence perfectly to his taste. He laughed to think of a gentleman of his figure coming home to Green Arbor Court, and wondered whether such contrast was typical of any one's else career, as it was of his.

The next day, to his astonishment,—for he supposed the Vauxhall girl to be the only outside person knowing where he lived,—he received in his wretched room a visit from a man dressed like a servant but evidently horrified at the rickety surroundings. This person, being assured by Dick that the latter was Mr. Richard Wetheral, handed him a letter, and fled forthwith. The letter, on clean plain paper, and in an ill-formed but fine feminine hand, read thus:

"Hounerd sir:

"I mak bolde to tell you for heavings sak taike outher lodgings and do not go neer them wch you now live att—tis a qestchun of life or Deth and sure do not go neer them at nite, this nite above all—do not waite a minute but take outher wons att wonse—from Won that noes and wch deesirs you noe harm yr respeckfull an dutyfull servt."