mrs. lovett was a woman of luxurious habits. perhaps the constant savoury hot pie atmosphere in which she dwelt contributed a something to the development of her tastes, but certainly that lady, in dress, jewellery, and men, had her fancies. did the reader think that she saw anything attractive in the satyr-like visage of todd, with its eccentricities of vision? did the reader think that the lawyers' clerks frequenting her shop suited her taste, varying, as all the world knows that class of bipeds does, between the fat and flabby, and the white and candle looking, if we may be allowed the expression? ah, no,—mrs. lovett's dreams of man had a loftier range, but we must not anticipate. facts will speak trumpet-tongued for themselves.

it is the hour when lawyers' clerks

from many a gloomy chamber stalk;

it is the hour when lovers' vows

are heard in every temple walk.

mrs. lovett was behind her counter all alone, but the loneliness continued but for a very brief period, for from carey-street, with a nervousness of gait highly suggestive of a fear of bailiffs—bailiffs were there in all their glory—comes a—a what shall we say? truly there are some varieties of the genus homo that defy minute classification, but perhaps this individual who hastened down bell yard was the nearest in approximation to what used to be called "a swaggering companion," that can be found. he was a gent upon town—that is to say, according to his own phraseology, he lived upon his wits; and if the reader will substitute dishonesty for wits, he will have a much clearer notion of what the swaggering companion of modern days lived upon. he was tall, burly, forty years of age, and his bloated countenance and sleepy eyes betrayed the effects of a long course of intemperance. he wore mock jewellery of an outrageous size; his attire was flashy and gaudy—his linen ... the less we say about that the better—enormous black whiskers (false) shaded his cheeks, and mangey-looking moustache (real) covered his upper lip—add to all this, such a stock of ignorance and impudence as may be supposed to thoroughly saturate one individual, and the reader has the swaggering companion before him. at a rapid pace he neared mrs. lovett's, muttering to himself as he went—

"i wonder if i can gammon her out of a couple of guineas."

yes, reader, this compound of vulgarity, ignorance, impudence and debauchery was mrs. lovett's gentle fancy—her taste—her—her, what shall we say?—her personification of all that a man should be. do not start; mrs. lovett has many imitators, for, without libelling the fairer, better, and more gentle of that sex, who can be such angels as well as such—a-hem!—there are thousands who would be quite smitten with the "swaggering companion." when he reached the shop-window, he placed his nose against it for a moment to reconnoitre who was in the shop, and seeing the fair one alone, he at once crossed the threshold.

"ah, charmer, how do the fates get on with you?"

"sir—"

a smile upon the face of mrs. lovett was a practical contradiction to the rebuff which her reception of him by words of mouth seemed to carry.

"oh, you bewitching—a—a—"

the remainder of the sentence was lost in the devouring a pie, which the "swaggering companion" took from the shop counter.

"really, sir," said mrs. lovett—"i wish you would not come here, i am all alone, and—"

"alone? you beautiful female.—oh you nice creature.—allow me."

the "swaggering companion" lifted up that portion of the counter which enabled mrs. lovett to pass from one side of it to the other, and as coolly as possible walked into the parlour. mrs. lovett followed him, protesting at what she called his impudence. but for all that, a bottle of spirits and some biscuits were procured. the "swaggering companion," however, pushed the biscuits aside, saying—

"pies for me. pies for me."

mrs. lovett looked at him scrutinisingly as she said—

"and do you really like the pies, or do you only eat them out of compliment to me?"

"really like them? i tell you what it is; out of compliment to you, of course, i could eat anything, but the pies are delicacies.—where do you get your veal?"

"well, if you will have pies you shall, major bounce."—that was the name which the "swaggering companion" appended to his disgusting corporealty.

"certainly, my dear, certainly. as i was saying, i could freely, to compliment you, eat old tomkins, the tailor, of fleet street."

"really. how do you think he would taste?"

"tough!"

"ha! ha!"

it was an odd laugh that of mrs. lovett's. had she borrowed it from todd?

"my dear mrs. l.," said the major, "what made you laugh in that sort of way? ah, if i could only persuade you to go from l to b—"

"sir?"

"now, my charmer, seriously speaking:—here am i, major bounce, a gentleman with immense expectations, ready and willing to wed the most charming woman under the sun, if she will only say 'yes.'"

"have you any objection to america?"

"america? none in the least.—with you for a companion, america would be a paradise. a regular garden of, what do you call it, my dear? only say the word, my darling."

the major's arm was gently insinuated round the lady's waist, and after a few moments she spoke.

"major bounce, i—i have made money."

"the devil!—so have i, but the police one day—a-hem!—a-hem!—what a cough i have."

"what on earth do you mean?"

"oh, nothing—nothing—only a joke. you said you had made money, and that put me in mind of what i read in the 'chronicle' to-day of some coiners, that's all. ha-ha!"

"when i spoke of making money, i meant in the way of trade, but having made it, i should not like to spend it in london, and be pointed out as the well-known pie-woman."

"pie-woman! oh, the wretches—only let—"

"peace. hold your tongue, and hear me out. if i marry and retire, it will be far from here—very far indeed."

"ah, any land, with you." the major absolutely saluted the lady.

"be quiet. pray, in what service are you a major?"

"the south american, my love. a much higher service than the british."

"indeed."

"lord bless you, yes. if i was now to go to my estates in south america, there would be a jubilee of ten days at the very least, and the people as well as the government would not know how to make enough of me, i can assure you. in fact, i have as much right to take the rank of general as of major, but the natural modesty of a military man, and of myself in particular, steps in and says 'a major be it.'"

"then you have property?"

"property—property? i believe you, i have. lots!"

the major dealt his forehead a slap as he spoke, which might be taken as an indication that that was where his property was situated, and that it consisted of his ignorance and impudence—very good trading capitals in this world for, strange to say, the parties solely possessing such qualifications get on much better than education, probity, and genius can push forward their unhappy victims. mrs. lovett was silent for some minutes, during which the major saluted her again. then, suddenly rising, she said—

"i will give you an answer to-morrow. go away now. we shall be soon interrupted. if i do consent to be yours, there will be something to do before we leave england."

"by jove, only mention it to me, and it is as good as done. by-the-bye, there is something to do before i leave here, and that is, my charmer, to pay you for the pies."

"oh, no—no."

"yes, yes—my honour. touch my honour, even in regard of a pie, and touch my life.—i put two guineas in one end of my purse, to pay my glover in the strand, and at the other end are some small coins—where the deuce—can—i—have—put—it."

the major made an affectation of feeling in all his pockets for his lost purse, and then, with a serio-comic look, he said—

"by jove, some rascal has picked my pocket."

"never mind me," said mrs. lovett, "i don't want payment for the pies."

"well, but—the—the glover. poor devil, and i promised him his money this morning. for a soldier and a man of honour to break his word is death. what shall i do?—mrs. l., could you lend me a couple of guineas until i have the happiness of seeing you again?"

"certainly, major, certainly i can."

the gallant son of mars pocketed the coins, and after saluting mrs. lovett some half score of times—and she, the beast, liked it—he left the shop and went chuckling into the strand, where in a few minutes he was in a pot-house, from whence he emerged not until he had liquidated one of the guineas. was mrs. lovett taken in by the major? did she believe his title, or his wealth, and his common honesty? did she believe in the story of the purse and of the two guineas that were to be paid to the poor glover because he wanted them? no—no—certainly not. but for all that, she admired the major.—he was her beau ideal of a fine man! that was sufficient. moreover, being what he was—a rogue, cheat, and common swindler—she could exercise, so she thought, a species of control over him which no decent man would put up with, and so in her own mind she had determined to marry the major and fly; but as she said—"there was a little something to be done first." did that relate to the disposal of todd? we shall see. if she calculated upon the major putting sweeney todd out of the way, she sadly miscalculated; but the wisest heads will blunder. compared to todd, the major was indeed a poor creature; but mrs. lovett, in the stern courage of her own intellect, could not conceive the possibility of the great, puffy, bloated, fierce major bounce being as arrant a coward as ever was kicked. he was so, though, for all that. after he had left her, mrs. lovett sat for a long time in a profound reverie, and as it happened that no one came into the shop; the current of her evil thoughts was uninterrupted.

"i have sufficient," she said; "and before it gets too late, i will leave this mode of life. why did i—tempted by the fiend todd—undertake it, but that i might make wealth by it, and so assume a position that my heart panted for. i will not delay until it is too late, or i may lose the enjoyment that i have sacrificed so much to find the means of getting. i live in this world but for the gratification of the senses, and finding that i could not gratify them without abundant means, i fell upon this plan. i—ah—that is he—"

suddenly the swaggering companion, the redoubtable major bounce, rushed past the shop-window, without so much as looking in for a single moment, and made his way towards carey street. mrs. lovett started up and made her way into the front shop. major bounce was out of sight, but from fleet street came a poor, draggled, miserable looking woman, making vain efforts at a speed which her weakness prevented her from keeping up.—she called aloud—

"stop! stop!—only a moment, flukes! only a moment, john. stop!—stop!"

her strength failed her, and she fell exhausted upon mrs. lovett's door-step.

"heartless!—heartless ever!" she cried. "may the judgment of the almighty reach him—may he suffer—yes—may he suffer only what i have suffered."

"who and what are you?" said mrs. lovett.

"poor, and therefore everything that is abject and despicable in london."

"what a truth," said mrs. lovett. "what a truth that is. who would not do even as i do to avoid poverty in a widowed life!—it is too horrible. amid savages it is nothing, but here it is indeed criminality of the deepest dye. whom did you call after, woman?"

"my husband."

"husband. describe him."

"a sottish-looking man, with moustache. once seen, he is not easily mistaken—ruffian and villain are stamped by nature upon his face."

mrs. lovett winced a little.

"come in," she said, "i will relieve you for the present. come in."

the woman by a great effort succeeded in rising and crossing the threshold. mrs. lovett gave her a seat, and having presented her with a glass of cordial and a pie, she waited until the poor creature should be sufficiently recovered to speak composedly, and then she said to her with perfect calmness, as though she was by no manner of means personally interested in the matter—

"now tell me—is the man with moustache and the braided coat, who passed hastily up bell yard a few moments only before you, really your husband?"

"yes, madam, that is flukes—"

"who?"

"flukes, madam."

"and pray who and what is flukes?"

"he was a tailor, and he might have been as respectable a man, and earned as honest and good a living as any one in the trade, but a love of idleness and dissipation undid him."

"flukes—a tailor?"

"yes, madam; and now that i am utterly destitute, and in want of the common necessaries of life, if i chance to meet him in the streets and ask him for the merest trifle to relieve my necessities, he flies from me in the manner he has done to-day."

"indeed!"

"yes, madam. if we were in a lonely place he would strike me, so that i should, from the injury he would do me, be unable to follow him, but that in the public streets he dare-not do, for he fears some man would interfere and put a stop to his cruelty."

"there, my good woman," said mrs. lovett, "there are five shillings for you. go now, for i expect to be busy very shortly."

with a profusion of thanks, that while they lasted were quite stunning, poor mrs. flukes left the pie-shop and hobbled homewards. when she was gone the colour went and came several times upon the face of mrs. lovett, and then she repeated to herself—"flukes—a tailor!"

"pies ready?" said a voice at the door.

"not quite."

"how long, mum; we want half a dozen of the muttons to-day."

"in about ten minutes."

"thank you, i'll look in again."

"flukes—a tailor? indeed!—flukes—a tailor? well i ought to have expected something like this. what a glorious thing it is really to care for no one but oneself after all. i shall lose my faith in—in—fine men."