“Don't mind me, ladies,” said the gent alluded to, in his fascinating way. “I'm a friend of Eglantine's; ain't I, Egg? a chip of the old block, hay?” “THAT you are,” said the perfumer, starting up. “An 'air-dresser?” asked Mrs. Crump. “Well, I thought he was; there's something, Mr. E., in gentlemen of your profession so exceeding, so uncommon distangy.” “Madam, you do me proud,” replied the gentleman so complimented, with great presence of mind. “Will you allow me to try my skill upon you, or upon Miss, your lovely daughter? I'm not so clever as Eglantine, but no bad hand, I assure you.” “Nonsense, Captain,” interrupted the perfumer, who was uncomfortable somehow at the rencontre between the Captain and the object of his affection. “HE'S not in the profession, Mrs. C. This is my friend Captain Walker, and proud I am to call him my friend.” And then aside to Mrs. C., “One of the first swells on town, ma'am--a regular tiptopper.” Humouring the mistake which Mrs. Crump had just made, Mr. Walker thrust the curling-irons into the fire in a minute, and looked round at the ladies with such a fascinating grace, that both, now made acquainted with his quality, blushed and giggled, and were quite pleased. Mamma looked at 'Gina, and 'Gina looked at mamma; and then mamma gave 'Gina a little blow in the region of her little waist, and then both burst out laughing, as ladies will laugh, and as, let us trust, they may laugh for ever and ever. Why need there be a reason for laughing? Let us laugh when we are laughy, as we sleep when we are sleepy. And so Mrs. Crump and her demoiselle laughed to their hearts' content; and both fixed their large shining black eyes repeatedly on Mr. Walker. “I won't leave the room,” said he, coming forward with the heated iron in his hand, and smoothing it on the brown paper with all the dexterity of a professor (for the fact is, Mr. W. every morning curled his own immense whiskers with the greatest skill and care)--“I won't leave the room, Eglantine my boy. My lady here took me for a hairdresser, and so, you know, I've a right to stay.” “He can't stay,” said Mrs. Crump, all of a sudden, blushing as red as a peony. “I shall have on my peignoir, Mamma,” said Miss, looking at the gentleman, and then dropping down her eyes and blushing too. “But he can't stay, 'Gina, I tell you: do you think that I would, before a gentleman, take off my--” “Mamma means her FRONT!” said Miss, jumping up, and beginning to laugh with all her might; at which the honest landlady of the “Bootjack,” who loved a joke, although at her own expense, laughed too, and said that no one, except Mr. Crump and Mr. Eglantine, had ever seen her without the ornament in question. “DO go now, you provoking thing, you!” continued Miss C. to Mr. Walker; “I wish to hear the hoverture, and it's six o'clock now, and we shall never be done against then:” but the way in which Morgiana said “DO go,” clearly indicated “don't” to the perspicacious mind of Mr. Walker.