“Mr. Weller’s anger quickly gave way to curiosity when the procession turned down the identical courtyard in which he had met with the runaway Job Trotter; and curiosity was exchanged for a feeling of the most gleeful astonishment, when the all-important Mr. Grummer, commanding the sedan-bearers to halt, advanced with dignified and portentous steps to the very green gate from which Job Trotter had emerged, and gave a mighty pull at the bell-handle which hung at the side thereof. The ring was answered by a very smart and pretty-faced servant-girl, who, after holding up her hands in astonishment at the rebellious appearance of the prisoners, and the impassioned language of Mr. Pickwick, summoned Mr. Muzzle. Mr. Muzzle opened one-half of the carriage gate to admit the sedan, the captured ones, and the specials, and immediately slammed it in the faces of the mob. . . . “At the foot of a flight of steps, leading to the house door, which was guarded on either side by an American aloe in a green tub, the sedan-chair stopped. Mr. Pickwick and his friends were conducted into the hall, whence, having been previously announced by Muzzle, and ordered in by Mr. Nupkins, they were ushered into the worshipful presence of that public-spirited officer.” And we all recollect the resulting _exposé_ of the designs of Mr. Alfred Jingle (_alias_ Captain Fitzmarshall), and the return by Mr. Weller of “Job Trotter’s shuttlecock as heavily as it came.” It should also be not forgotten that it was at this house Mr. Weller met with his lady-elect, Mary, the Pretty Housemaid (afterwards maid to Mrs. Winkle), and that here the first passage of first love occurred between them. For the pleasant narration of the episode, reference should be made to the conclusion of the foregoing chapter:— “Now, there was nobody in the kitchen but the pretty housemaid; and as Sam’s hat was mislaid, he had to look for it, and the pretty housemaid lighted him. They had to look all over the place for the hat. The pretty housemaid, in her anxiety to find it, went down on her knees, and turned over all the things that were heaped together in a little corner by the door. It was an awkward corner. You couldn’t get at it without shutting the door first. “‘Here it is,’ said the pretty housemaid. ‘This is it, ain’t it?’ “‘Let me look,’ said Sam. “The pretty housemaid had stood the candle on the floor; as it gave a very dim light, Sam was obliged to go down on his knees before he could see whether it really was his own hat or not. It was a remarkably small corner, and so—it was nobody’s fault but the man’s who built the house—Sam and the pretty housemaid were necessarily very close together. “‘Yes, this is it,’ said Sam. ‘Good-bye!’ “‘Good-bye!’ said the pretty housemaid.