I don’t think I could have been in bed myself above half-an-hour, when just as I was dozing off into a nice, comfortable sleep, I was roused by our area bell going cling-a-ling-ling so gently, that I at once knew something was in the wind somewhere. In about five minutes, there was another pull, louder than the first, and in about three minutes after that, another. So I jumped out of bed, and slipping on my wrapper, threw up the window, when lo and behold! there was one of those plaguy Life Guardsmen waiting to be let in at our area gate. “Who’s there?” I cried, pretty loudly. “It’s only me, my charmer!” he answered, in a loud whisper. “Who are you, and what do you want here at this time of night?” I demanded. “Come, that’s a good ’un, after asking me to supper with you,” he replied. “Come down, I tell you. It’s only Ned Twist, of the Guards.--How about that cold beefsteak-pie, my heart’s idol?” “Go along about your business,” I said, in a loud voice. “You ought to be ashamed of yourself--you ought.” “Come, none of your jokes,” he replied; “I am so plaguy hungry. I’m good for the whole of that pie of your missus’s; so come down, and let us in, there’s a beauty.” “Go along with you, do!” I said, in a very loud voice, “or I’ll call the police.” “Hush-sh-sh!” he said, in a whisper, “or you’ll be letting that old she-dragon of a missus of yours hear you, and then it will be all up with my beefsteak-pie, angel! And that will never do, for I’ve just refused a splendid offer of tripe and onions from a lovely cook in Osnaburgh-street. So, once for all, do you mean to come down or not?--or I shall have that angel’s tripe all cold before I get back to her.” “Go along with you!” I cried out, unable to contain myself any longer, now I had heard all he had got to say--“go along with you--I’m that she-dragon of a mistress, and if you are not off, I’ll give you in custody----” But the words were scarcely out of my mouth, before Mr. Ned Twist ran away as fast as his legs would carry him; and as he turned the corner, I caught a glimpse of the handsome fellow’s face by the gaslight, and knew that he was one of the very men who were always coming and asking if Mr. Smith lived there. In the morning, when I inquired of Miss Susan whether she was acquainted with one Ned Twist, in the Life Guards, of course she knew nothing about the gentleman; and, unfortunately, I had forgotten to wheedle out of the man the name of the party he really had come to see, so that I could not fix her with anything positive. [Illustration: _George Cruikshank_ “_It’s my Cousin M’am!_”]