Lady Gorgon and her family were likewise in town; but, when in the metropolis, they never took notice of their relative, Miss Lucy: the idea of acknowledging an ex-schoolmistress living in Mecklenburgh Square being much too preposterous for a person of my Lady Gorgon's breeding and fashion. She did not, therefore, know of the progress which sly Perkins was making all this while; for Lucy Gorgon did not think it was at all necessary to inform her Ladyship how deeply she was smitten by the wicked young gentleman who had made all the disturbance at the Oldborough ball. The intimacy of these young persons had, in fact, become so close, that on a certain sunshiny Sunday in December, after having accompanied Aunt Biggs to church, they had pursued their walk as far as that rendezvous of lovers, the Regent's Park, and were talking of their coming marriage, with much confidential tenderness, before the bears in the Zoological Gardens. Miss Lucy was ever and anon feeding those interesting animals with buns, to perform which act of charity she had clambered up on the parapet which surrounds their den. Mr. Perkins was below; and Miss Lucy, having distributed her buns, was on the point of following,--but whether from timidity, or whether from a desire to do young Perkins an essential service, I know not: however, she found herself quite unwilling to jump down unaided. “My dearest John,” said she, “I never can jump that.” Whereupon John stepped up, put one hand round Lucy's waist; and as one of hers gently fell upon his shoulder, Mr. Perkins took the other and said,-- “Now jump.” Hoop! jump she did, and so excessively active and clever was Mr. John Perkins, that he jumped Miss Lucy plump into the middle of a group formed of-- Lady Gorgon; The Misses Gorgon; Master George Augustus Frederick Grimsby Gorgon; And a footman, poodle, and French governess: who had all been for two or three minutes listening to the billings and cooings of these imprudent young lovers. CHAPTER II. SHOWS HOW THE PLOT BEGAN TO THICKEN IN OR ABOUT BEDFORD ROW. “Miss Lucy!” “Upon my word!” “I'm hanged if it aren't Lucy! How do, Lucy?” uttered Lady, the Misses, and Master Gorgon in a breath. Lucy came forward, bending down her ambrosial curls, and blushing, as a modest young woman should: for, in truth, the scrape was very awkward. And as for John Perkins, he made a start, and then a step forwards, and then two backwards, and then began laying hands upon his black satin stock--in short, the sun did not shine at that moment upon a man who looked so exquisitely foolish. “Miss Lucy Gorgon, is your aunt--is Mrs. Briggs here?” said Lady Gorgon, drawing herself up with much state. “Mrs. Biggs, Aunt?” said Lucy demurely.