"And now, sir," continued Mr Peacock, with a simpler gravity, "you are at liberty, of course, to say what you please to my lady, but I hope you'll not try to take the bread out of my mouth because I wear a livery, and am fool enough to be in love with a waiting-woman--I, sir, who could have married ladies who have played the first parts in life--on the metropolitan stage." I had nothing to say to these representations--they seemed plausible; and though at first I had suspected that the man had only resorted to the buffoonery of his quotations in order to gain time for invention, or to divert my notice from any flaw in his narrative, yet at the close, as the narrative seemed probable, so I was willing to believe that the buffoonery was merely characteristic. I contented myself therefore with asking-- "Where do you come from now?" "From Mr Trevanion, in the country, with letters to Lady Ellinor?" "Oh, and so the young woman knew you were coming to town?" "Yes, sir; some days ago. Mr Trevanion told me the day I should have to start." "And what do you and the young woman propose doing to-morrow, if there is no change of plan?" Here I certainly thought there was a slight, scarce perceptible, alteration in Mr Peacock's countenance, but he answered readily, "To-morrow? a little assignation, if we can both get out;-- 'Woo me, now I am in a holiday humour, And like enough to consent.' Swan again, sir!" "Humph!--so then Mr Gower and Mr Vivian are the same person." Peacock hesitated. "That's not _my_ secret, sir; 'I am combined by a sacred vow.' You are too much the gentleman to peep through the blanket of the dark, and to ask me, who wear the whips and stripes--I mean the plush small-clothes and shoulder-knots--the secrets of another gent, to whom 'my services are bound.'" How a man past thirty foils a man scarcely twenty!--what superiority the mere fact of living-on gives to the dullest dog! I bit my lip, and was silent. "And," pursued Mr Peacock, "if you knew how the Mr Vivian you inquired after loves you"! When I told him incidentally, how a young gentleman had come behind the scenes to inquire after him, he made me describe you, and then said, quite mournfully, 'If ever I am what I hope to become, how happy I shall be to shake that kind hand once more,'--very words, sir!--honour bright! 'I think there's ne'er a man in Christendom Can lesser hide his hate or love than he.' And if Mr Vivian has some reason to keep himself concealed still--if his fortune or ruin depend on your not divulging his secret for awhile--I can't think you are the man he need fear. 'Pon my life, 'I wish I was as sure of a good dinner,' as the Swan touchingly exclaims. I dare swear that was a wish often on the Swan's lips in the privacy of his domestic life!"