Dick, having inspected the amiable creature in a glance, was nothing loath. So the waiter, having brought the wine, was sent for an additional glass, and then again for eatables. Dick's companion proved so agreeable that he soon ordered more wine and presently forgot the music in contemplating her charms, her air of piquant impudence, her affectations, and the shallow smartness of her talk. He was so entertained by her that, when the night was late, on arriving with her at Westminster Bridge, he took a hackney coach and accompanied her to her lodgings, which, to his astonishment, were in the quite respectable-looking house of a hosier in High Holborn. At his frank expression of surprise, she seemed huffed; wondered why she should not be supposed to live like any other lady, and said it was nobody's business if she chose now and then to go out for an evening of pleasure in a free and easy manner. Her ruffled feelings were soon smoothed down, however, and when Dick left her it was with an appointment to take her to the next Hampstead Assembly. This Vauxhall incident cost Dick so much of the money got from the sale of his new suit that he was soon fain to visit the Monmouth Street dealer again, this time carrying the gamekeeper's suit and wearing that bestowed on him by the whimsical gentleman met at Taunton. For both these suits, the shopkeeper gave him a sum of money and a very plain blue frock, a worn white waistcoat, and a pair of mended black breeches. Thus Dick left the shop in vastly different attire from that in which he had entered it, and when he returned to his lodging the change made his landlady's son gape with wonder. Before Dick had made up his mind as to how he should rebuild his fortunes, he received one afternoon a visitor in a hackney coach, who was none other than the companionable young lady of Vauxhall, to whom he had made known his place of residence. Her errand now was to learn why he had failed to keep his engagement for the Hampstead Assembly. She did not stay long to reproach him, for no sooner had she taken note of his cheapened appearance, and made sure that it came from necessity, than she swept out of his room and back to the coach, on the pretence of being offended at the broken appointment. On leaving the house, she was seen by the landlady's son, who came to Dick presently, with a grin, and remarked that Sukey Green had become a great lady since she had ceased to walk the Strand of nights. On inquiring, Dick learned that his visitor was well known by sight to the landlady's son as having been, not many weeks before, one of the countless frail damsels infesting the sidewalks of the town after nightfall. Some turn of fortune had taken her from her rags and a hole in Butcher Row to the fine clothes and comfortable lodgings she now possessed, instead of to the Bridewell or the river or a pauper's grave, as another turn might have done. Perhaps she had but returned to the condition from which she had fallen.