CHAPTER X.

Within a day or two afterwards, Mr. Tag-rag received a letter from the

Lord Chamberlain's office, notifying him that his Majesty had been

graciously pleased to appoint him draper and hosier to his Majesty! It

occasioned him feelings of tumultuous pride and pleasure, similar to

those with which the Earl of Dreddlington would have received tidings of

his long-coveted marquisate having been conferred upon him. He started

off, within a quarter of an hour after the receipt of the letter, to a

carver and gilder a few doors off, and gave orders for the immediate

preparation of a first-rate cast, gilded, of the royal arms; which, in

about a week's time, might be seen, a truly resplendent object,

dazzlingly conspicuous over the central door of Mr. Tag-rag's

establishment, inspiring awe into the minds of passers-by, and envy into

Mr. Tag-rag's neighbors and rivals. He immediately sent off letters of

gratitude to Mr. Titmouse, and to "the Right Honorable, the Most Noble

the Earl of Dreddlington;" to the latter personage, at the same time,

forwarding a most splendid crimson satin flowered dressing-gown, as "an

humble token of his gratitude for his Lordship's mark of particular

condescension."

Both the letter and the dressing-gown gave great satisfaction to the

earl's valet, (than whom they never got any farther,) and who, having

tried on the glistening addition to his wardrobe, forthwith sat down and

wrote a very fine reply, in his Lordship's name, to the note which had

accompanied it, taking an opportunity to satisfy his conscience, by

stating to the earl the next morning that a Mr. Tag-rag had "_called_"

to express his humble thanks for his Lordship's goodness. He was,

moreover, so well satisfied with this specimen of Mr. Tag-rag's

articles, that he forthwith opened an account with him, and sent a very

liberal order to start with. The same thing occurred with several of the

subordinate functionaries at the palace; and--to let my reader, a little

prematurely, however, into a secret--this was the extent of the

additional custom which Mr. Tag-rag's appointment secured him; and, even

for these supplies, I never heard of his getting paid. But it did

wonders with him in the estimation of the world. 'Twas evident that he

was in a fair way of becoming the head house in the trade. His

appointment caused no little ferment in that nook of the city with which

he was connected. The worshipful Company of Squirt-Makers elected him a

member; and on a vacancy suddenly occurring in the ward to which he

belonged, for he had a considerable shop in the city also, he was made a

common council-man. Mr. Tag-rag soon made a great stir as a champion of

civil and religious liberty. As for church and county rates, in

particular, he demonstrated the gross injustice and absurdity of calling

upon one who had no _personal_ occasion for the use of a church, of a

county bridge, a county jail, or a lunatic asylum, to be called upon to

contribute to the support of them. A few speeches in this strain

attracted so much attention to him, that several leading men in the ward

(a very "liberal" one) intimated to him that he stood the best chance of

succeeding to the honor of alderman on the next vacancy; and when he and

Mrs. Tag-rag were alone together, he would start the subject of the

expenses of the mayoralty with no little anxiety. He went to the chapel

no longer on foot, but in a stylish sort of covered gig, with a kind of

coal-scuttle shaped box screwed on behind, into which was squeezed his

footboy, (who, by the way, had a thin stripe of crimson let into each

leg of his trousers, upon Mr. Tag-rag's appointment to an office under

the Crown;) he was, also, always a trifle later in arriving at the

chapel, than he had been accustomed to be. He had a crimson velvet

cushion running along the front of his pew, and the Bibles and

hymn-books very smartly gilded. He was presently advanced to the honored

post of chief deacon; and on one occasion, in the unexpected absence of

the central luminary of the system, was asked to occupy the chair at a

"great meeting" of the SOCIETY FOR THE PROMOTION OF CIVIL AND RELIGIOUS

DISCORD; when he took the opportunity of declaring his opinion, which

was enthusiastically cheered, that the principles of free trade ought to

be applied to religion; and that the voluntary system was that which was

designed by God to secure the free blessings of competition in spiritual

teaching. As for Satin Lodge, he stuck two little wings to it; and had

one of the portraits of Tittlebat Titmouse (as Tippetiwink) hung over

his drawing-room mantel-piece, splendidly framed and glazed.

Some little time after Tag-rag had obtained the royal appointment, which

I have been so particular in recording, Gammon, _happening_ to be

passing his shop, stepped in, and observing Mr. Tag-rag, very cordially

greeted him; and then, as if it had been a thought of the moment only,

without taking him from the shop, intimated that he had been westward,

engaged in completing the formal details of a rearrangement of the

greater portion of Mr. Titmouse's extensive estates, upon which that

gentleman had recently determined, and the sight of Mr. Tag-rag's

establishment had suggested to Mr. Gammon, that possibly Mr. Tag-rag

would feel gratified at being made a party--for form's sake--to the

transaction; as Mr. Gammon was sure that Mr. Titmouse would feel

delighted at having associated with the Earl of Dreddlington, and one

or two other persons of distinction, in the meditated arrangement, the

name of so early and sincere a friend as Mr. Tag-rag; "one who,

moreover"--here Gammon paused, and gave a smile of inexpressible

significance, "but it was not for _him_ to hint his suspicions"----

"Sir--I--I--_will_ you come into my room?" interrupted Tag-rag, rather

eagerly, anxious to have a more definite indication of Mr. Gammon's

opinion; but that gentleman, looking at his watch, pleaded want of time,

and suddenly shaking Mr. Tag-rag by the hand, moved towards the door.

"You were talking of signing, sir--Have you got with you what you want

signed? I'll sign anything!--anything for Mr. Titmouse; only too

proud--it's quite an honor to be in any way connected with him!" Gammon,

on hearing this, felt in his pockets, as if he supposed that he should

find there what he perfectly well knew had been lying ready, cut and

dried, in his safe at Saffron Hill for months.

"I find I have not got the little document with me," said he,

carelessly; "I suppose it's lying about, with other loose papers, at the

office, or I may have left it at the earl's"--[though Gammon's objects

required him here to allude to the Earl of Dreddlington, I think it only

fair to say that he had never been, for one instant in his life, in that

great man's company.]

"I'll tell you what, Mr. Gammon." said Tag-rag, considering--"Your

office is at Saffron Hill? Well, I shall be passing in your direction

to-morrow, on my way to my city establishment, about noon, and will look

in and do all you wish."

"Could you arrange to meet the earl there?--or, as his Lordship's

movements are--ah, ha!--not very"----

"Should be most proud to meet his Lordship, sir, to express my personal

gratitude"----

"Oh, the earl never likes to be reminded, Mr. Tag-rag, of any little

courtesy or kindness he may have conferred! But if you will be with us

about twelve, we can wait a little while; and if his Lordship should not

be punctual, we must even let you sign first, ah, ha!--and explain it to

his Lordship on his arrival, for I know your time is very precious, Mr.

Tag-rag! Gracious! Mr. Tag-rag, what a constant stream of customers you

have!--I heard it said, the other day, that you were rapidly absorbing

all the leading business in your line in Oxford Street."

"You're very polite, Mr. Gammon! Certainly, I've no reason to complain.

I always keep the best of everything, both here and in the city, and

sell at the lowest prices, and spare no pains to please; and it's hard

if"----

"Ah, how do you do?" quoth Gammon, suddenly starting, and bowing to some

one on the other side of the way, whom he did _not_ see. "Well,

good-day, Mr. Tag-rag--good-day! To-morrow at twelve, by the way?"

"I'm yours to command, Mr. Gammon," replied Tag-rag; and so they parted.

Just about twelve o'clock the next day, the latter, in a great bustle,

saying he had fifty places to call at in the city, made his appearance

at Saffron Hill.

"His Lordship a'n't here, I suppose?" quoth he, after shaking hands with

Mr. Quirk and Mr. Gammon. The latter gentleman pulled out his watch,

and, shrugging his shoulders, said with a smile, "No--we'll give him

half an hour's grace."

"Half an hour, my dear sir!" exclaimed Tag-rag, "I couldn't stay so

long, even for the high honor of meeting his Lordship. I am a man of

business, he isn't; first come first served, you know, eh? All fair

that!" There were a good many recently engrossed parchments and writings

scattered over the table, and from among them Gammon, after tossing

them about for some time, at length drew out a sheet of foolscap. It was

stamped, and there was writing upon the first and second pages.

"Now, gentlemen, quick's the word--time's precious!" said Tag-rag,

taking up a pen and dipping it into the inkstand. Gammon, with an

unconcerned air, placed before him the document he had been looking for.

"Ah, how well I know the handwriting! That flourish of his--a sort of

boldness about it, a'n't there?" said Tag-rag, observing the signature

of Titmouse immediately above the spot on which he was going to place

his own; there being written in pencil, underneath, the word

"Dreddlington," evidently for the intended signature of the earl. "I'm

between two good ones, at any rate, eh?" said Tag-rag. Gammon or Quirk

said something about a "term to attend the inheritance"--"trustee of an

outstanding term"--"legal estate vested in the trustees"--"too great

power to be put in the hands of any but those of the highest honor."

"Stay!" quoth Gammon, ringing his little hand-bell--"nothing like

regularity, even in trifles." He was answered by one of the clerks, a

very dashing person--"We only wish you to witness a signature," said

Gammon. "Now, we shall release you, Mr. Tag-rag, in a moment. Say 'I

deliver this as my act and deed'--putting your finger on the little

wafer there."

So said and so did Mr. Tag-rag as he had been directed; the clerk wrote

his name under the witnessing clause, "Abominable Amminadab;" and from

that moment Mr. Tag-rag had unconsciously acquired an interest in the

future stability of Mr. Titmouse's fortunes, to the extent of some FORTY

THOUSAND POUNDS.

"_Now_, gentlemen, you'll make my compliments to his Lordship, and if he

asks how I came to sign before him, explain the hurry I was in. Time and

tide wait for no man. Good-morning, gentlemen; good-morning; best

regards to our friend, Mr. Titmouse." Gammon attended him to the door,

cordially shaking him by the hand, and presently returned to the room he

had just quitted, where he found Mr. Quirk holding in his hand the

document just signed by Tag-rag; which was, in fact, a joint and several

bond, conditioned in a penalty of forty thousand pounds, for the due

repayment, by Titmouse, of twenty thousand pounds, and interest at five

per cent, about to be advanced to him on mortgage of a portion of the

Yatton property. Gammon, sitting down, gently took the instrument from

Mr. Quirk, and with a bit of India-rubber calmly effaced the pencilled

signature of "_Dreddlington_."

"You're a ve--ry clever fellow, Gammon!" exclaimed Mr. Quirk, presently,

with a sort of sigh, and after, as it were, holding his breath for some

time. Gammon made no reply. His face was slightly pale, and wore an

anxious expression. "It will do _now_," continued Mr. Quirk, rubbing his

hands, and with a gleeful expression of countenance.

"That remains to be seen," replied Gammon, in a low tone.

"Eh? What? Does anything occur--eh? By Jove, no screw loose, I hope?"

"No--but we're in _very deep water_ now, Mr. Quirk"----

"Well--devil only cares, so long as _you_ keep a sharp look-out, Gammon.

I'll trust the helm to you! I'll pit you against Old Nick any day,

friend Gammon!"

As Gammon did not seem in a talkative mood, Quirk shortly afterwards

left him.

Now, though Mr. Tag-rag is no favorite of mine, I begin to feel a good

deal of anxiety on his behalf. I wish he had not been in so vast a

"hurry," in a matter which required such grave deliberation, as

"signing, sealing, and delivering." When a man is called on to go

through so serious a ceremony, it would be well if he could be apprised

of the significance of the formula--_"I deliver this as my act and

deed."_ Thus hath expressed himself upon this point, a great authority

in the law, old Master Plowden. 'T is a passage somewhat quaint in form,

but not the less forcible and important in substance:--

"Words are oft _spoken_ unadvisedly, and pass from men lightly and

inconsiderately; but, where the agreement is by _deed_, there is

more time for deliberation; for when a man passes a thing by deed,

first, there is the determination of the mind to do it, and upon

that he causes it to be _written_, which is one part of

deliberation; and, afterwards, he _puts his seal to it_, which is

another part of deliberation; and, lastly, he _delivers the writing

as his deed_, which is the consummation of his resolution. So that

there is great deliberation used in the making of deeds, for which

reason they are received as a _lien_, final to the party, and are

adjudged to bind the party, without examining upon what cause or

consideration they were made."[24]

Possibly some one now reading these pages hath had most dismal

experience in the matter above mentioned; and I hope that such dismal

experience, a due reflection will avert from many a reader. As for

Tag-rag, it may turn out that our fears for him are groundless:

nevertheless _one hates to see men do important things in a

hurry_:--and, as we shall lose sight of Mr. Tag-rag for some time, there

can be no harm in wishing him well out of what he has just done.

"If it were _done_ when 't is done, then 't were well

It were done _quickly_"--

and not otherwise.

The London season was now advancing towards its close. Fine ladies were

sated and exhausted with operas, concerts, balls, routs, soirées,

assemblies, bazaars, fêtes, and the Park. Their lords were getting

tired of their clubs during the day, and hurried dinners, late hours,

foul air, and long speeches, at the two Houses; where, however they

might doze away the time, they could seldom get the luxury of a

downright nap for more than an hour or two together--always waking, and

fancying themselves in the tower of Babel, and that it was on fire, so

strange and startling were the lights and the hubbub! The very

whippers-in were looking jaded and done--each being like a Smithfield

drover's dog on a Monday night, which at length can neither bark nor

bite in return for a kick or a blow, and, hoarse and wearied, falls

asleep on his way home--a regular somnambulist. Where the Earl of

Dreddlington and Lady Cecilia were to pass their autumn, was a question

which they were beginning to discuss rather anxiously. Any one glancing

over their flourishing list of residences in England, Scotland, Wales,

and Ireland, which were paraded in the Peerages and Court Guides, would

have supposed that they had an ample choice before them: but the reader

of this history knows better. The mortifying explanation--mortifying to

the poor earl--having been once given by me, I shall not again do so.

Suffice it to say, that Poppleton Hall, Hertfordshire, had its

disadvantages; there they must keep up a full establishment, and receive

county company and other visitors--being in arrear with much

hospitality. 'Twas expensive work, also, at the watering-places; and

expensive and also troublesome to go abroad at the earl's advanced

period of life. Pensively ruminating on these matters one evening, they

were interrupted by a servant bringing in a note, which proved to be

from Titmouse--inviting them, in terms of profound courtesy and great

cordiality, to honor Yatton, by making a stay there during as great a

portion of the autumn as they could not better occupy. Mr. Titmouse

frankly added, that he could not avoid acknowledging some little degree

of selfishness in giving the invitation--namely, in expressing a hope

that the earl's presence would afford him, if so disposed, an

opportunity of introducing his host to any of the leading members of the

county who might be honored by the earl's acquaintance; that, situated

as Titmouse was, he owned to an increasing anxiety on that point. He

added, that he trusted the earl and Lady Cecilia would consider Yatton,

while they were there, as in all respects their own residence, and that

no exertion should be wanting to render their stay as agreeable as

possible. The humble appeal of Titmouse prevailed with his august

kinsman; who, on the next day, sent him a letter saying that his

Lordship fully recognized the claims which Mr. Titmouse had upon him as

the head of the family, and that his Lordship should feel very glad in

availing himself of the opportunity which offered itself, of placing Mr.

Titmouse on a proper footing of intercourse with the people of the

county. That, for this purpose, His Lordship should decline any

invitations they might receive to pass their autumn elsewhere, &c. &c.

&c. In plain English, they jumped (but as decorously as possible) at the

invitation. It had emanated originally from Gammon, who, from motives of

his own, had suggested it to Titmouse, bade him act upon it, and had

drawn up the letter conveying it. I say, from motives of his own, Gammon

was bent upon becoming personally acquainted with the earl, and fixing

himself, if possible, thoroughly in his Lordship's confidence. He had

contrived to ascertain from Titmouse, without that gentleman's being,

however, aware of it, that the few occasions on which his (Gammon's)

name had been mentioned by the earl, it had been accompanied by

slighting expressions--by indications of even dislike and suspicion.

Give him, however, thought he, but the opportunity, and he could very

soon change the nature of the earl's feelings towards him. As soon,

therefore, as the earl's acceptance of the invitation had been

communicated to Gammon, he resolved to be one of the guests at Yatton

during the time of the earl's stay--a step, into the propriety of which

he easily brought Mr. Quirk to enter, but which he did not, for the

present, communicate to Titmouse, lest he should, by prematurely

disclosing it to the earl, raise any obstacle, arising out of an

objection on the part of his Lordship; who, if he but found Gammon

actually _there_, must submit to the infliction with what grace he

might. In due time it was notified on the part of the earl, by his man

of business, to Mr. Titmouse, (who had gone down to Yatton,) through

_his_ man of business, that the earl, and a formidable portion of his

establishment, would make their appearance at Yatton by a named day. The

earl had chosen to extend the invitation to Miss Macspleuchan and also

to as many attendants as he thought fit to take with him, instead of

letting them consume their board wages in entire idleness in town or at

Poppleton. Heavens! what accommodation was required, for the earl, for

the Lady Cecilia, each of their personal attendants, Miss Macspleuchan,

and five servants! Then there were two other guests invited, in order to

form company and amusement for the earl--the Marquis Gants-Jaunes de

Millefleurs, and a Mr. Tuft. Accommodation must be had for these; and,

to secure it, Mr. Titmouse and Mr. Gammon were driven to almost the

extremities of the house. Four servants, in a sort of baggage-wagon,

preceded the arrival of the earl and Lady Cecilia by a day or two, in

order to "arrange everything;" and, somehow or another, one of the first

things that was done with this view, was to install his Lordship's chief

servants in the quarters of Mr. Titmouse's servants, who, it was

suggested, should endeavor to make themselves as comfortable as they

could in some little unfurnished rooms over the stables! And, in a word,

before Mr. Titmouse's grand guests had been at the Hall four-and-twenty

hours, there was established there the same freezing state and solemn

ceremony which prevailed in the earl's own establishment. Down came at

length, thundering through the village, the earl's dusty

travelling-carriage and four; himself, Lady Cecilia, and Miss

Macspleuchan within, his valet and Lady Cecilia's maid behind: presently

it wound round the park road, crashing and flashing through the gravel,

and rattling under the old gateway, and at length stood before the Hall

door--the reeking horses pulled up with a sudden jerk, which almost

threw them all upon their haunches. Mr. Titmouse was in readiness to

receive his distinguished visitors; the carriage-door was opened--down

went the steps--and in a few moments' time the proud old Earl of

Dreddlington and his proud daughter, having entered the Hall, had become

the guests of its flustered and ambitious little proprietor. While all

the visitors--great and small--are occupied in their dressing-rooms,

recovering themselves from the cramp and fatigue of a long journey, and

are preparing to make their appearance at dinner, let me take the

opportunity to give you a sketch of the only one of them, of the smaller

sort, to whom you are at present a stranger: I mean Mr. Tuft--Mr. VENOM

TUFT.

Oft hath an inexperienced mushroom-hunter, deceived at a distance, run

up to secure what seemed to be a fine cluster of mushrooms, growing

under the shade of a stately tree, but which, on stooping down to gather

them, he discovers with disappointment and disgust to be no mushrooms at

all, but vile, unwholesome--even poisonous funguses: which, to prevent

their similarly deluding others, he kicks up and crushes under foot. And

is not this a type of what often happens in society? Under the "cold

shade of aristocracy," how often is to be met with--the SYCOPHANT?--Mr.

Venom Tuft was one of them. His character was written in his face.

Disagreeable to look at--though _he_ thought far otherwise--he yet

contrived to make himself pleasant to be listened to, for a while, by

the languid and _ennuyé_ fashionable. He spoke ever--

"In a _toady's_ key,

With bated breath and whispering humbleness."

His person was at once effeminate and coarse; his gesture and address

were cringing--there was an intolerable calmness and gentleness about

them at all times, but especially while laboring in his vocation. He had

the art of administering appropriate and acceptable flattery by a look

only, deferential and insinuating--as well as by words. He had always at

command a copious store of gossip, highly seasoned with scandal; which

he collected and prepared with industry and judgment. Clever toadies are

generally bitter ones. With sense enough to perceive, but not spirit

enough to abandon their odious propensities, they are aware of the

ignominious spectacle they exhibit before the eyes of men of the least

degree of independence and discernment, and whose open contempt they

have not power or manliness enough to resent. Then their smothered rage

takes an inward turn; it tends to, and centres in the tongue, from which

it falls in drops of scalding virus; and thus it is, that the functions

of sycophant and slanderer are so often found united in the same

miserable individual. Does a sycophant fancy that his patron--if one may

use such a term--is not aware of his degrading character and position?

Would that he could but hear himself spoken of by those in whose

presence he has last been prostrating himself! If he could but for one

moment "see himself as others see him"--surely he would instantly

wriggle out of the withering sight of man! But Mr. Tuft was not an

everyday toady. Being a clever man, it occurred to him as calculated

infinitely to enhance the value of his attentions, if he could get them

to be regarded as those of a man of some ability and reputation. So

reasonable a wish, as thus to rise to eminence in the calling in life to

which he had devoted himself--viz. toadyism--stimulated him to

considerable exertion, which was in time rewarded by a measure of

success; for he began to be looked on as _something_ of a literary man.

Then he would spend his mornings in reading up, in those quarters whence

he might cull materials for display in society at a later period of the

day; when he would watch his opportunity, or, if none presented itself,

make one, by diverting the current of conversation into the channel on

which was the gay and varied bordering of his very recent acquisitions.

All his knowledge was of this gossiping _pro hâc vice_ character.----He

was very skilful in administering his flattery. Did he dine with his

Grace, or his Lordship, whose speech in the House appeared in that or

the preceding day's newspapers? Mr. Tuft got it up carefully, and also

the speech in answer to it, with a double view--to show himself at home

in the question! and then to differ a little with his Grace, or his

Lordship, in order to be presently convinced, and set right by them! Or

when conversation turned upon the topics which had, over-night, called

up his Grace or his Lordship on his legs, Mr. Tuft would softly break in

by observing that such and such a point had been "admirably put in the

debate by _some one_ of the speakers--he did not recollect whom;" and on

being apprised of, and receiving a courteous bow from, the great man

entitled to the undesigned compliment, look _so_ surprised--almost,

indeed, piqued! Carefully, however, as he managed matters, he was soon

found out by _men_, and compelled to betake himself, with ten-fold

ardor, to the women, with whom he lasted a little longer. _They_

considered him a great literary man; for he could quote and criticise a

good deal of poetry, and abuse many novels. He could show that what

everybody else admired was full of faults; what all condemned was

admirable: so that the fair creatures were forced to distrust their own

judgment, in proportion as they deferred to his. He would allow no one

to be entitled to the praise of literary excellence except individuals

of rank, and one or two men of established literary reputation, who had

not thought it worth their while to repel his obsequious advances, or

convenient not to do so. Then he would polish the poetry of fine ladies,

touch up their little tales, and secure their insertion in fashionable

periodicals. On these accounts, and of his piquant tittle-tattle, no

soirée or conversazione was complete without him, any more than without

tea, coffee, ice, or lemonade. All toadies hate one another; but his

brethren both hated and feared Mr. Tuft; for he was not only so

successful himself, but possessed and used such engines for _depressing

them_. Mr. Tuft had hoped to succeed in being popped in by one of his

patrons for a snug little borough; but the great man got tired of him,

and turned him off, though the ladies of the family still secured him

occasional access to the dinner-table. He did not, however, make a very

grateful return for such good-natured condescensions. Ugly and ungainly

as he was, he yet imagined himself possessed of personal attractions for

the ladies, and converted their innocent and unsuspecting familiarities,

which had emanated from those confident in their purity and their

elevation, into tokens of the ascendency he had gained over them; and of

which, with equal cruelty, folly, and presumption, he would afterwards

boast pretty freely. Till this came, however, to be suspected and

discovered, Mr. Tuft visited a good many leading houses in town, and

spent no inconsiderable portion of each autumn at some one or other of

the country mansions of his patrons--from whose "castles," "halls,"

"abbeys," "priories," and "seats," he took great pride in dating his

letters to his friends. I must not forget to mention that he kept a

book, very gorgeously bound and embellished, with silver-gilt clasps,

and bearing on the back the words--"Book of Autographs;" but I should

have written it--"Trophies of Toadyism." This book contained autograph

notes of the leading nobility, addressed familiarly to himself, thus:--

"The Duke of Walworth presents his compliments to Mr. Tuft, and

feels particularly obliged by," &c.

"The Duchess of Diamond hopes Mr. Tuft will not forget to bring

with him this evening," &c.

"The Marquis of M---- has the honor to assure Mr. Tuft that," &c.

"Dear Mr. Tuft,

"Why were you not at ---- House last night? We were dreadfully dull

without you! X ---- just as stupid as you always say he _is_."

[This was from a very pretty and fashionable countess, whose

initials it bore.]

"If Mr. Tuft is dead, Lady Dulcimer requests to be informed when

his funeral will take place, as she, together with a host of

mourners, intends to show him a last mark of respect."

"Dear Mr. Tuft,

"The poodle you brought me has got the mange, or some horrid

complaint or other, which is making all his hair fall off. Do come

and tell me what is to be done. Where can I send the sweet

suffering angel?--Yours,

ARABELLA D----."

[This was from the eldest and loveliest daughter of a very great

duke.]

"The Lord Chancellor presents his compliments, and begs to

acknowledge the receipt of Mr. Venom Tuft's obliging present of his

little '_Essay on Greatness_.'"

These are samples, taken at random, of the contents of Mr. Tuft's book

of autographs, evidencing abundantly the satisfactory terms of intimacy

upon which he lived with the great; and it was ecstasy to him, to see

this glittering record of his triumphs glanced over by the envious

admiring eyes of those in his own station in society. How he delighted

to be asked about the sayings and doings of the exclusive circles! How

confidentially would he intimate the desperate condition of a sick

peer--an expected _éclaircissement_ of some fashionable folly and

crime--or a move to be made in the Upper House that evening! Poor Tuft

little suspecting (lying so snug in his shell of self-conceit) how

frequently he fell, on these occasions, among the Philistines--and was,

unconsciously to himself, being trotted out by a calm sarcastic

hypocrite, for the amusement of the standers-by, just as a little monkey

is poked with a stick to get up and exhibit himself and his tricks. Such

was Mr. Tuft, a great friend and admirer of "the marquis," through whose

influence he had procured the invitation from Titmouse, in virtue of

which he was now dressing in a nice little room at the back of the Hall,

overlooking the stables; being bent upon improving his already tolerably

familiar acquaintance with the Earl of Dreddlington and Lady Cecilia,

and also extracting from the man whose hospitality he was enjoying,

materials for merriment among his great friends against the next season.

When the party had collected in the drawing-room in readiness for

dinner, you might have seen Mr. Tuft in earnestly respectful

conversation with the Lady Cecilia; Mr. Gammon standing talking to Miss

Macspleuchan, with an air of courteous ease and frankness--having

observed her sitting neglected by everybody; the earl conversing now

with the marquis, then with Titmouse, and anon with Tuft, with whom he

appeared to be particularly pleased. Happening at length to be standing

near Gammon--a calm, gentlemanlike person of whom he knew nothing, nor

suspected that his keen eye had taken in his Lordship's true character

and capacity at a glance; nor that he would, in a few hours' time,

acquire as complete a mastery over his said Lordship, as ever the

present famous _hippodamist_ at Windsor,[25] by touching a nerve in the

mouth of a horse, reduces him to helpless docility and submission--the

earl and he fell into casual conversation for a moment or two. The air

of deference with which Gammon received the slight advances of the great

man, was exquisite and indescribable. It gave him clearly to understand

that his lofty pretensions were known to, and profoundly appreciated by,

the individual whom he was addressing. Gammon said but little: that

little, however, how significant and decisive! He knew that the earl

would presently inquire of Titmouse who the unknown visitor was; and

that on being told, in the conceited and probably disparaging manner

which Gammon knew Titmouse would adopt, if he supposed it would please

the earl, that "it was only Mr. Gammon, one of his solicitors," he would

sink at once and forever beneath the notice of the earl. He resolved,

therefore, to anticipate--to contrive that it should ooze out easily and

advantageously from himself, so that he could see the effect it had upon

the earl, and regulate his movements accordingly. Gammon sat down before

the fortress of the earl's pride, resolved that, for all it appeared so

inaccessible and impregnable, it should fall, however his skill and

patience might be taxed in the siege. Till he had cast his piercing eye

upon the earl, Gammon had felt a little of the nervousness which one may

imagine would be experienced by Van Amburgh, who, on being called into

the presence of majesty to give a specimen of his skill upon an animal

concealed from him, of whose name and qualities he was ignorant--should

summon all his terrors into his eye, and string his muscles to their

highest tension; and, on the door being opened, turn with smiling

scorn--if not indignation--from a sucking pig, a calf, an ass, or a

chicken. Something similar were the feelings experienced by Gammon, as

soon as he had scanned the countenance and figure of the Earl of

Dreddlington. He quickly perceived that the dash of awe which he had

thrown into his manner was producing its due effect upon that most

magnificent simpleton. Watching his opportunity, he gently introduced

the topic of the recent change of ownership which Yatton had undergone;

and in speaking of the manner in which Mr. Titmouse had borne his sudden

prosperity--"Yes, my Lord," continued Gammon, with apparent

carelessness, "I recollect making some such observation to him, and he

replied, 'Very true, _Mr. Gammon_'"--Gammon finished his sentence

calmly; but he perceived that the earl had withdrawn himself into his

earldom. He had given a very slight start; a little color had mounted

into his cheek; a sensible hauteur had been assumed, and by the time

that Gammon had done speaking, the space between them had been--as Lord

Dreddlington imagined, unobservedly--increased by two or three inches.

Gammon was a _man_--an able and a proud man--and he felt galled; but,

"let it pass," he presently reflected--"let it pass, you pompous old

idiot; I will one day repay it with interest." The earl separated from

him, Gammon regarding him as a gaudy craft sheering off for a while, but

doomed to be soon sunk. Mr. Tuft, (who was the son of a respectable

retired tobacconist,) having ascertained that Gammon was only Mr.

Titmouse's attorney, conducted himself for a while as though there were

no such person in the room; but being a quick observer, and catching

once or twice the faint sarcastic smile with which Gammon's eye was

settled on him, he experienced a very galling and uneasy consciousness

of his presence. The marquis's superior tact and perception of character

led him to treat Gammon very differently--with a deference and anxiety

to please him, which Gammon understood thoroughly--in fact, he and the

marquis had many qualities in common, but Gammon was the man of _power_.

During dinner he sat beside Miss Macspleuchan, and was almost the only

person who spoke to her--in fact, he said but little to any one else. He

took wine with Titmouse with a marked, but guarded, air of _confidence_.

The marquis took wine with Gammon with an air of studied courtesy. The

earl's attention was almost entirely engrossed by Mr. Tuft, who sat next

to him, chattering in his ear like a little magpie perched upon his

shoulder. The marquis sat next to the Lady Cecilia; for whose amusement,

as far as his cautious tact would allow him, he from time to time drew

out their little host. At length, in answer to a question by the

marquis, the earl let fall some pompous observation, from which the

marquis, who was getting very tired of the vapid monotony which pervaded

the table, ventured to differ pretty decisively. Tuft instantly sided

with the earl, and spoke with infinite fluency for some minutes: Gammon

saw in a moment that he was an absurd pretender; and watching his

opportunity, for the first time that he had interchanged a syllable with

him, with one word exposing a palpable historical blunder of poor

Tuft's, overthrew him as completely as a bullet from a crossbow

dislodges a tomtit from the wall on which he is hopping about,

unconscious of his danger. 'Twas a thing that there could be no mistake

about whatever.

"That's a _settler_, Tuft," said the marquis, after a pause: Tuft

reddened violently, and gulped down a glass of wine; and presently, with

the slightly staggered earl, became a silent listener to the discussion

into which the marquis and Gammon had entered. Obtuse as was the earl,

Gammon contrived to let him see how effectually he was supporting his

Lordship's opinion, which Mr. Tuft had so ridiculously failed in. The

marquis got slightly the worst of the encounter with Gammon, whose

object he saw, and whose tact he admired; and with much judgment

permitted Gammon to appear to the earl as his successful defender, in

order that he might himself make a friend of Gammon. Moreover, he was

not at all annoyed at witnessing the complete and unexpected

discomfiture of poor Tuft, whom, for all his intimacy with that

gentleman, the marquis thoroughly despised.

However it might possibly be that his grand visitors enjoyed themselves,

it was far otherwise with Mr. Titmouse; who, being compelled to keep

sober, was quite miserable. None of those around him were drinking

men:--and the consequence was, that he would retire early to his

bedroom, and amuse himself with brandy and water, and cigars, leaving

his guests to amuse themselves with cards, billiards, or otherwise, as

best they might. He did, indeed, "stand like a cipher in the great

account;" instead of feeling himself the Earl of Dreddlington's host, he

felt himself as one of his Lordship's inferior guests, struggling in

vain against the freezing state and etiquette which the earl carried

with him wherever he went, like a sort of atmosphere. In this extremity

he secretly clung to Gammon, and reposed upon his powerful support and

sympathy more implicitly than ever he had done before. As the shooting

season had commenced, and game was plentiful at Yatton, the marquis and

Tuft found full occupation during the day, as occasionally did Mr.

Gammon. Mr. Titmouse once accompanied them; but having contrived very

nearly to blow his own hand off, and also to blow out the eyes of the

marquis, it was intimated to him that he had better go out alone for

the future--as he did accordingly, but soon got tired of such solitary

sport. Besides--hares, pheasants, partridges--old and young, cock or

hen--'twas all one--none of them seemed to care one straw for him or his

gun, let him pop and blaze away as loud and as long, as near or as far

off, as he liked. The only thing he hit--and that plump--was one of his

unfortunate dogs, which he killed on the spot; and then coming up with

it, stamped upon the poor creature's bleeding carcass, saying with a

furious oath--"Why didn't you keep out of the way, then, you brute?"

The earl was really anxious to perform his promise of introducing, or

procuring introduction for Titmouse, to the leading nobility and gentry

of the county; but it proved a more difficult task than his Lordship had

anticipated--for Titmouse's early doings at Yatton had not yet been

forgotten. Some of the haughty Whig gentry joined with their Tory

neighbors in manifesting their open contempt and dislike, for one who

could so disgrace the name and station to which he had been elevated

in the county; and the earl had to encounter one or two somewhat

mortifying rebuffs, in the course of his efforts for the establishment

of his young kinsman. There were some, however, whom mere political

considerations--others, whom deference for the earl's rank, and

unwillingness to hurt his feelings--induced to receive the new Squire of

Yatton on a footing of formal intimacy and equality; so that his

Lordship's dignified exertions were not entirely useless. The whole

party at the Hall attended the earl to church on the Sundays--entirely

filling the squire's pew and the adjoining one; their decorous conduct

presenting a very edifying spectacle to the humble congregation, and

suggesting a striking contrast between the present, and the former,

visitors of Mr. Titmouse. Worthy Dr. Tatham was asked several times to

dinner, at the earl's instance; by whom he was treated on such occasions

with great, though stately, courtesy. The only persons with whom the

little doctor felt at his ease, were Mr. Gammon and Miss Macspleuchan,

who treated him with the utmost cordiality and respect. What became

during the day of the two ladies, I hardly know. There was no instrument

at Yatton: bagatelle-board, and novels from a circulating library at

York, frequent rides and drives through the grounds and about the

country, and occasional visits to and from one or two families with whom

Lady Cecilia had a town acquaintance, occupied their day; and in the

evening, a rubber at whist, or écarté, with the earl--sometimes, too,

with the marquis and Mr. Tuft, both of whom lost no opportunity of

paying marked attention to Lady Cecilia, with a view of dissipating as

far as possible the inevitable ennui of her situation--would while away

the short evenings, very early hours being now kept at the Hall. 'Twas

wonderful that two such men as the marquis and Mr. Tuft could stay so

long as they did at so very dull a place, and with such dull people.

Inwardly they both voted the earl an insufferable old twaddler; his

daughter a piece of languid insipidity; and one would have thought it

daily more irksome for them to keep up their courtly attentions. They

had, however, as may presently be seen, objects of their own in view.

As Gammon, a little to the earl's surprise, continued apparently a

permanent guest at the Hall, where he seemed ever engaged in

superintending and getting into order the important affairs of Mr.

Titmouse, it could hardly be but that he and the earl should be

occasionally thrown together; for as the earl did not shoot, and never

read books, even had there been any to read, he had little to do, when

not engaged upon the expeditions I have alluded to, but saunter about

the house and grounds, and enter into frivolous, but solemn and formal

conversation with almost any one he met. The assistance which Gammon had

rendered the earl on the occasion of their first meeting at dinner, had

not been forgotten by his Lordship, but had served to take off the edge

from his preconceived contemptuous dislike for that gentleman. Gammon,

however, steadily kept in the background, resolved that all advances

should come from the earl. When, once or twice, his Lordship inquired,

with what Gammon saw to be only an affected carelessness, into the state

of Mr. Titmouse's affairs, Mr. Gammon evinced a courteous readiness to

give him _general_ information; but with an evident caution and anxiety,

not unduly to expose, even to the earl--to Mr. Titmouse's distinguished

kinsman, the state of his property. He would, however, disclose

sufficient to demonstrate his zeal and ability on behalf of Mr.

Titmouse's interests, his consummate qualifications as a man of

business; and from time to time perceived that his display was not lost

upon the earl. Mr. Gammon's anxiety, in particular, to prevent the

borough of Yatton from being a second time wrested out of the hands of

its proprietor, and returning, by a corrupt and profligate arrangement

with Ministers, a Tory to Parliament, gave the earl peculiar

satisfaction. He was led by the mention of this topic into a long

conversation with Mr. Gammon upon political matters; and, at its close,

was greatly struck with the soundness of his views, the decision and

strength of his liberal opinions, and the vigor and acuteness with which

he had throughout agreed with everything the earl had said, and

fortified every position he had taken; evincing, at the same time, a

profound appreciation of his Lordship's luminous exposition of political

principles. The earl was forced to own to himself, that he had never

before met with a man of Mr. Gammon's strength of intellect, whose

views and opinions had so intimately and entirely coincided--were,

indeed, identical with his own. 'Twas delightful to witness them upon

these occasions--to observe the air of reverence and admiration with

which Gammon listened to the lessons of political wisdom which fell,

with increasing length and frequency, from the lips of his Lordship.

"[Greek: Tou kai apo glôssês melitos glukiôn reen authê.]"

Nor was it only when they were alone together, that Gammon would thus

sit at the feet of Gamaliel; he was not ashamed to do so openly at the

dinner-table; but, ah! how delicately and dexterously did he conceal

from the spectators the game he was playing--more difficult to do so,

though it daily became--because, the more willing Gammon was to receive,

the more eager the earl was to communicate instruction! If, on any of

these occasions, oppressed by the multifariousness of his knowledge, and

its sudden overpowering confluence, he would pause in the midst of a

little series of half-formed sentences, Gammon would be, at hand, to

glide in easily, and finish what the earl had begun, out of the earl's

ample and rich materials, of which Gammon had caught a glimpse, and only

worked out the earl's own, somewhat numerous, half-formed illustrations.

The marquis and Mr. Tuft began, however, at length to feel a little

impatient at observing the _way_ which Gammon was making with the earl;

but of what use was it for them to interfere? Gammon was an exceedingly

awkward person to meddle with; for having once got fair play, by gaining

the earl's ear, his accuracy, readiness, extent of information upon

political topics, and admirable temper, told very powerfully against his

two opponents, who at length interfered less and less with him; the

marquis only _feeling_ pique, but Tuft also _showing_ it. Had it been

otherwise, indeed, with the latter gentleman, it would have been odd;

for Gammon seemed to feel a peculiar pleasure in demolishing him. The

marquis, however, once resolved to show Gammon how distinctly he

perceived his plan of operations, by waiting till he had accompanied the

poor earl up to a climax of absurdity; and then, with his eye on Gammon,

bursting into laughter. Seldom had Gammon been more ruffled than by that

well-timed laugh; for he felt _found out_!

When the earl and his astute companion were alone, the latter would

listen with lively interest, over and over again, never wearied, to his

Lordship's magnificent accounts of what he had intended to do, had he

only continued in office, in the important department over which he had

presided, viz. the Board of Green Cloth; and more than once put his

Lordship into a soft flutter of excitement, by hinting at rumors which,

he said, were rife--that in the event of a change of ministers, which

was looked for, his Lordship was to be President of the Council. "Sir,"

the earl would say, "I should not shrink from the performance of my duty

to my sovereign, to whatever post he might be pleased to call me. The

one you mention, sir, has its peculiar difficulties; and if I know

anything of myself, sir, it is one for which--I should say--I am

peculiarly qualified. Sir, the duty of presiding over the deliberations

of powerful minds, requires signal discretion and dignity, because, in

short, especially in affairs of state--Do you comprehend me, Mr.

Gammon?"

"I understand your Lordship to say, that where the occasion is one of

such magnitude, and the disturbing forces are upon so vast a scale, to

moderate and guide conflicting interests and opinions"----

"Sir, it _is_ so; _tantas componere lites, hic labor, hoc opus_,"

interrupted the earl, with a desperate attempt to fish up a fragment or

two of his early scholarship; and his features wore for a moment a

solemn commanding expression, which satisfied Gammon of the sway which

his Lordship would have had when presiding at the council-board. Gammon

would also occasionally introduce the subject of heraldry, asking many

anxious questions concerning that exalted science, and also respecting

the genealogies of leading members of the peerage, with which he safely

presumed that the earl would be, as also he proved, perfectly familiar;

and his Lordship would go on for an hour at once upon these interesting

and most instructive subjects.

Shortly after luncheon one day, of which only Gammon, the earl, and the

two ladies, were in the Hall to partake, Mr. Gammon had occasion to

enter the drawing-room, where he found the earl sitting upon the sofa,

with his massive gold spectacles on, leaning over the table, engaged in

the perusal of a portion of a work then in course of periodical

publication, and which had only that morning been delivered at the Hall.

The earl asked Gammon if he had seen it, and was answered in the

negative.

"Sir," said the earl, rising and removing his glasses, "it is a

remarkably interesting publication, showing considerable knowledge of a

very difficult and all-important subject, and one, in respect of which

the lower orders of the people in this country--nay, I lament to be

obliged to add, the great bulk of the middle classes also, are wofully

deficient--I mean heraldry, and the history of the origin, progress, and

present state of the families of the old nobility and gentry of this

country." The work which had been so fortunate as thus to meet with the

approbation of the earl, was the last monthly number of a History of the

County of York, of which, as yet, only thirty-eight seven-and-sixpenny

quarto numbers had made their appearance. It formed an admirable and

instructive publication, every number of which had contained a

glorification of some different Yorkshire family. The discriminating

patronage of Mr. Titmouse for this inestimable performance, had been

secured by a most obsequious letter from the learned editor, but more

especially by a device of his in the last number, which it would have

been strange indeed if it could have failed to catch the eye, and

interest the feelings of the new aristocratical owner of Yatton.

Opposite to an engraving of the Hall, was placed a magnificent

genealogical tree, surmounted by a many-quartered shield of armorial

bearings, both of which purported to be an accurate record of the

ancestral glories of the house of "TITMOUSE of YATTON!" A minute

investigation might indeed have detected that the recent flight of

_Titmice_ which were perched on the lower branches of this imposing

pedigree, bore nearly as small a proportion to the long array of

chivalrous Drelincourts and Dreddlingtons which constituted the massive

trunk, as did the paternal coat[26] (to which the profound research and

ingenuity of Sir GORGEOUS TINTACK, the Garter king-at-arms, had

succeeded in demonstrating the inalienable right of Titmouse) to the

interminable series of quarterings, derived from the same source, which

occupied the remainder of the escutcheon. At these mysteriously

significant symbols, however, Mr. Titmouse, though quite ready to

believe that they indicated some just cause or other of family pride,

had looked with the same appreciating intelligence which you may fancy

you see a chicken displaying, while hesitatingly clapping its foot upon,

and quaintly cocking its eye at, a slip of paper lying in a yard,

covered over with algebraic characters and calculations. Far otherwise,

however, was it with the earl, in whose eyes the complex and recondite

character of the production infinitely enhanced its value, and struck in

his bosom several deep chords of genealogical feeling, as he proceeded,

in answer to various anxious inquiries of Gammon, to give him a very

full and minute account of the unrivalled splendor and antiquity of his

Lordship's ancestry. Now be it understood that Gammon--while prosecuting

the researches which had preceded the elevation of Mr. Titmouse to that

rank and fortune of which the united voice of the fashionable world had

now pronounced him so eminently worthy--had made himself pretty well

acquainted with the previous history and connections of that ancient and

illustrious house, of which the Earl of Dreddlington was the head; and

his familiarity with this topic, though it did not _surprise_ the earl,

because he conceived it to be every one's duty to acquaint himself with

such momentous matters, rapidly raised Gammon in the good opinion of his

Lordship; to whom at length, it occurred to view him in quite a new

light; viz. as the chosen instrument by whose means (under Providence)

the perverse and self-willed Aubrey had been righteously cast down from

that high place, which his rebellious opposition to the wishes and

political views of his liege lord had rendered him unworthy to occupy;

while a more loyal branch had been raised from obscurity to his

forfeited rank and estates. In fact, the earl began to look upon Gammon

as one, whose just regard for his Lordship's transcendent position in

the aristocracy of England had led even to anticipate his Lordship's

possible wishes; and proceeded accordingly to rivet this spontaneous

allegiance, by discoursing with the most condescending affability on the

successive noble and princely alliances which had, during a long series

of generations, refined the ancient blood of the Drelincourts into the

sort of super-sublimated ichor which at present flowed in his own veins.

The progress of the earl's feelings was watched with the greatest

interest by Mr. Gammon, who perceived the increasing extent to which

respect for him was mingling with his Lordship's sublime

self-satisfaction; and, watching the opportunity, struck a spark into

the dry tinder of his Lordship's vain imagination, blew it gently--and

saw that it caught and spread. Confident in his knowledge of the state

of affairs, and that his Lordship had reached the highest point of

credulity, Gammon had the almost incredible audacity to intimate, in a

hesitating but highly significant manner, his impression, that the

recent failure in the male line of the princely house of

HOCH-STIFFELHAUSEN NARRENSTEIN DUMMLEINBERG[27] had placed his Lordship,

in right of the marriage of one of his ancestors, during the Thirty

Years' War, with a princess of that august line, in a situation to

claim, if such should be his Lordship's pleasure, the dormant honors and

sovereign rank attached to the possession of that important

principality. The earl appeared for a few moments transfixed with awe!

The bare possibility of such an event seemed too much for him to

realize; but when further conversation with Gammon had familiarized his

Lordship with the notion, his mind's eye involuntarily and naturally

glanced to his old rival, the Earl of Fitz-Walter: what would _he_ say

to all this? How would _his_ little honors pale beside the splendors of

his Serene Highness the Prince of Hoch-Stiffelhausen Narrenstein

Dummleinberg! He was not sorry when Mr. Gammon, soon afterwards, left

him to follow out unrestrainedly the swelling current of his thoughts,

and yield himself up to the transporting ecstasies of anticipated

sovereignty. To such a pitch did his excitement carry him, that he might

shortly afterwards have been seen walking up and down the Elm Avenue,

with the feelings and air of an old KING.

Not satisfied, however, with the success of his daring experiment upon

the credulity and inflammable imagination of the aspiring old

nobleman--whom his suggestion had set upon instituting extensive

inquiries into the position of the Dreddlington family with reference

to the foreign alliances which it had formed in times past, and of which

so dazzling an incident might really be in existence--it occurred to Mr.

Gammon, on another occasion of his being left alone with the earl, and

who, he saw, was growing manifestly more pleased with the frequent

recurrence of them, to sink a shaft into a new mine. He therefore, on

mere speculation, introduced, as a subject of casual conversation, the

imprudence of persons of rank and large fortune devolving the management

of their pecuniary affairs so entirely upon others--and thus leaving

themselves exposed to all the serious consequences of employing

incompetent, indolent, or mercenary agents. Mr. Gammon proceeded to

observe that he had recently known an instance of a distinguished

nobleman, (whose name--oh, Gammon!--he for very obvious reasons

suppressed,) who, having occasion to raise a large sum of money by way

of mortgage, left the sole negotiation of the affair to an agent, who

was afterwards proved to have been in league with the lender, (the

mortgagee,) and had permitted his employer to pay, for ten or twelve

years, an excess of interest over that for which he might, had he

chosen, have obtained the requisite loan, which actually made a

difference in the distinguished borrower's income of a thousand a-year!

Here, looking out of the northeast corner of his eye, the placid

speaker, continuing unmoved, observed the earl start a little, glance

somewhat anxiously at him, but in silence, and slightly quicken the pace

at which he had been walking. Gammon presently added, in a careless sort

of way, that accident had brought him into professional intercourse with

that nobleman--[Oh, Gammon! Gammon!]--whom he was ultimately

instrumental in saving from the annual robbery which was being inflicted

upon him. It was enough; Gammon saw that what he had been saying had

sunk like lead into the mind of his noble and acute companion, who, for

the rest of the day, seemed burdened and oppressed with either it or

some other cause of anxiety; and, from an occasional uneasy and wistful

eye which the earl fixed upon him at dinner, he felt conscious that not

long would elapse, before he should hear something from the earl

connected with the topic in question--and he was not mistaken. The very

next day they met in the park; and after one or two casual observations,

the earl remarked that, by the way, with reference to their yesterday's

conversation, it "_did so happen_"--very singularly--that the earl had a

friend who was placed in a situation very similar to that which had been

mentioned by Mr. Gammon to the earl; it was a _very intimate_

friend--and therefore the earl would like to hear what was Mr. Gammon's

opinion of the case. Gammon was scarcely able to refrain from a smile,

as the earl went on, evincing every moment a more vivid interest in

behalf of his mysterious "_friend_," who at last stood suddenly

confessed as the Earl of Dreddlington himself; for in answer to a

question of Mr. Gammon, his Lordship unwittingly spoke _in the first

person_! On perceiving this, he got much confused; but Gammon passed it

off very easily; and by his earnest confidential tone and manner, soon

soothed and reconciled the earl to the vexatious disclosure he had

made--vexatious only because the earl had thought fit, so very

unnecessarily, to make a mystery of an everyday matter. He rather

loftily enjoined Mr. Gammon to secrecy upon the subject, to which Gammon

readily pledged himself, and then they entered upon an unrestrained

discussion of the matter. Suffice it to say, that in the end Gammon

assured the earl that he would, without any difficulty, undertake to

procure a transfer of the mortgage at present existing on his Lordship's

property, which should lower his annual payments by at least one and a

half per cent: and which, on a rough calculation, would make a

difference of very nearly five hundred a-year in the earl's favor. But

Gammon explicitly informed the earl that he was not to suppose that he

had been overreached, or his interests been in any way neglected, in the

original transaction; that it had been conducted on his Lordship's

behalf, by his solicitor, Mr. Mudge, one of the most respectable men in

the profession; and that a few years made all the difference in matters

of this description; and before he, Mr. Gammon, would interfere any

further in the business, he requested his Lordship to write to Mr.

Mudge, enclosing a draft of the arrangement proposed by Mr. Gammon, and

desiring Mr. Mudge to say what he thought of it. This the earl did; and

in a few days' time received an answer from Mr. Mudge, to the effect

that he was happy that there was a prospect of so favorable an

arrangement as that proposed, to which he could see no objection

whatever; and would co-operate with Mr. Gammon in any way, and at any

time, which his Lordship might point out. Mr. Gammon was, in fact,

rendering here a real and very important service to the earl; being an

able, acute, and energetic man of business--while Mr. Mudge was very

nearly superannuated--had grown rich and indolent, no longer attending

to his practice with pristine energy; but _pottering_ and dozing over

it, as it were, from day to day; unable, from his antiquated style of

doing business, and the constantly narrowing circle of his connections,

to avail himself of those resources which were open to younger and more

energetic practitioners, with more varied resources. Thus, though money

was now much more plentiful, and consequently to be got for a less sum

than when, some ten years before, the earl had been compelled to borrow

to a large amount upon mortgage, old Mr. Mudge had suffered matters to

remain all the while as they were; and so they _would_ have remained,

but for Gammon's accidental interference: the earl being not a man of

business--one who could not bear to allude to the fact of his property

being mortgaged--who did not like even to _think_ of it; and concluded

that good old Mr. Mudge kept a sufficiently sharp eye upon his noble

client's interest. The earl gave Mr. Mudge's letter to Mr. Gammon, and

requested him to lose no time in putting himself into communication with

Mr. Mudge, for the purpose of effecting the suggested transfer. This

Gammon undertook to do; and perceiving that he had fortunately made so

strong a lodgement in the earl's good opinion, whose interests now bound

him, in a measure, to Mr. Gammon, that gentleman thought that he might

safely quit Yatton and return to town, in order to attend to divers

matters of pressing exigency. Before his departure, however, he had a

very long interview with Titmouse, in the course of which he gave that

now submissive personage a few simple, perspicuous, and decisive

directions, as to the line of conduct he was to pursue, and which alone

could conduce to his permanent interests: enjoining him, moreover, to

pursue that line, on terror of the consequences of failing to do so. The

Earl of Dreddlington, in taking leave of Mr. Gammon, evinced the utmost

degree of cordiality consistent with the stateliness of his demeanor. He

felt, in fact, real regret at parting with a man of such superior

intellect--one evincing such a fascinating deference towards himself,

(the earl:) and it glanced across his Lordship's mind, that such a man

as Mr. Gammon would be the very fittest man who could be thought of, in

respect of tact, energy, and knowledge, to become prime minister to--his

Serene Highness the Prince of Hoch-Stiffelhausen Narrenstein

Dummleinberg!

The longer that the earl continued at Yatton--in which he could not

have more thoroughly established himself if he had in the ordinary way

engaged it for the autumn--the more he was struck with its beauties; and

the oftener they presented themselves to his mind's eye, the keener

became his regrets at the split in the family interests which had so

long existed, and his desire to take advantage of what seemed almost an

opportunity, specially afforded by Providence, for reuniting them. As

the earl took his solitary walks, he thought with deep anxiety of his

own advanced age, and sensibly increasing feebleness. The position of

his affairs was not satisfactory. When he died, he would leave behind

him an only child--and that a daughter--on whom would devolve the

splendid responsibility of sustaining, alone, the honors of her ancient

family. Then there was his newly discovered kinsman, Mr. Titmouse, sole

and unembarrassed proprietor of this fine old family property;

simple-minded and confiding, with a truly reverential feeling towards

them, the heads of the family; also the undoubted, undisputed proprietor

of the borough of Yatton; who entertained and avowed the same liberal

and enlightened political opinions, which the earl had ever maintained

with dignified consistency and determination; and who, by a rare

conjunction of personal merit and of circumstance, had been elevated to

an unprecedented pitch of popularity, in the highest regions of society;

and who was, moreover, already next in succession, after himself and the

Lady Cecilia, to the ancient barony of Drelincourt and the estates

annexed to it. How little was there, in reality, to set against all

this? An eccentricity of manner, for which nature only, if any one, was

to blame; a tendency to extreme modishness in dress, and a slight

deficiency in the knowledge of the etiquette of society, but which daily

experience and intercourse were rapidly supplying; and a slight

disposition towards the pleasures of the table, which no doubt would

disappear on the instant of his having an object of permanent and

elevating attachment. Such was Mr. Titmouse. He had as yet, undoubtedly,

made no advances to Lady Cecilia, nor evinced any disposition to do so,

though numerous and favorable had been, and continued to be, the

opportunities for his doing so. Might not this, however, be set down

entirely to the score of his excessive diffidence--distrust of his

pretensions to aspire after so august an alliance as that with the Lady

Cecilia? Yet there certainly was another way of accounting for his

conduct: had he got already entangled with an attachment elsewhere?--Run

after in society, as he had been, in a manner totally unprecedented

during his very first season--had his affections been inveigled?--When

the earl dwelt upon this dismal possibility, if it were when he was

lying awake in bed, he would be seized with a fit of intolerable

restlessness--and getting up, wrap himself in his dressing-gown, and

pace his chamber for an hour together, running over, in his mind, the

names of all the women he knew who would be likely to lay snares for

Titmouse, in order to secure him for a daughter. Then there was the Lady

Cecilia--but she, he knew, would not run counter to his wishes, and he

had, therefore, no difficulty to apprehend on _that_ score. She had ever

been calmly submissive to his will; had the same lofty sense of family

dignity that he enjoyed; and had often concurred in his deep regrets on

account of the separation of the family interests. She was still

unmarried--and yet, on her father's decease, would be a peeress in her

own right, and possessed of the family estates. The fastidiousness which

alone, thought the earl, had kept her hitherto single, would not, he

felt persuaded, be allowed by her to interfere, for the purpose of

preventing so excellent a family arrangement as would be effected by her

union with Titmouse. Once married--and being secured suitable

settlements from Titmouse--if there should prove to be any

incompatibility of temper or discrepancy of disposition, come the worst

to the worst, there was the shelter of a separation and separate

maintenance to look to; a thing which was becoming of daily

occurrence--which implied no real reproach to either party--and left

them always at liberty to return to each other's society--when so

disposed. And as for the dress and manners of Titmouse, granting them to

be a little extravagant, would not, in all probability, a word from her

suffice to dispel his fantastic vulgarity--to elevate him into a

gentleman? Thus thought her fond and enlightened parent, and thus--in

point of fact--thought also she; from which it is evident, that

Titmouse, once brought to the point--made sensible where his duty and

his privilege converged--it would be a straightforward plain-sailing

business. To bring about so desirable a state of things as this--to give

the young people an opportunity of thoroughly knowing and endearing

themselves to each other, were among the objects which the earl had

proposed to himself, in accepting the invitation to Yatton. Time was

wearing on, however, and yet no decisive step had been taken. Lady

Cecilia's icy coldness--her petrifying indifference of manner, her

phlegmatic temperament and lofty pride, were qualities, all of which

were calculated rather to check than encourage the advances of a suitor,

especially of such an one as Titmouse; but, though the earl did not know

it, there were others whose ardor and impatience to possess themselves

of such superior loveliness, could not be similarly restrained or

discouraged. Will not the reader find it difficult to believe, that Mr.

Venom Tuft, having been long on the look-out for--Heaven save the

mark!--an aristocratic wife, had conceived it not impossible to engage

the affections of Lady Cecilia--to fascinate her by the display of his

brilliant acquirements; and that the comparative seclusion of Yatton

would afford him the requisite opportunity for effecting his wishes? Yet

even so it really was: intoxicated with vanity, which led him to believe

himself peculiarly agreeable to women, he at length had the

inconceivable folly and presumption, on the morning after an evening in

which he fancied that he had displayed peculiar brilliance, to intimate

to her that his affections were no longer under his own control, having

been taken captive by her irresistible charms. Vain thought! as well

might a cock-sparrow have sought to mate himself with the stately swan!

It was for some time rather difficult for the Lady Cecilia to understand

that he was seriously making her a proposal. At length, however, she

comprehended him: evincing the utmost degree of astonishment which her

drooping eyelids and languid hauteur of manner would permit her to

manifest. When poor Tuft found that such was the case, his face burned

like fire, and he felt in a fierce fluster within.

"You haven't mistaken me for Miss Macspleuchan, Mr. Tuft, have you?"

said Lady Cecilia, with a faint smile. "You and Mr. Titmouse and the

marquis, I hear, sat much longer after dinner last night than usual!"

Tuft was utterly confounded. Was her Ladyship insinuating that he was

under the influence of wine? He was for a while speechless.

"I assure you, Lady Cecilia"----at length stammered he.

"Oh--now I understand!--You are rehearsing for Lady Tawdry's private

theatricals? Do you play there next month? Well, I dare say you'll make

a delicious Romeo." Here the earl happening to enter, Lady Cecilia, with

a languid smile, apprised him that Mr. Tuft had been rehearsing, to

admiration, a love-scene which he was studying for Lady Tawdry's

theatricals; on which the earl, in a good-natured way, said that he

should like to witness it, if not too much trouble to Mr. Tuft. If that

gentleman could have crept up the chimney without being observed, he

would have employed the first moment of sooty repose and security, in

praying that the Lady Cecilia might bring herself to believe, that he

had really been doing what at present he feared she only affected to

believe, viz. that he had been only playing at love-making. He resolved

to outstay the earl, who, indeed, withdrew in a few minutes' time,

having entered only for the purpose of asking Lady Cecilia a question;

and on her Ladyship and her would-be lover being again alone--

"If I have been guilty of presumption, Lady Cecilia"----commenced Tuft,

with tremulous earnestness, looking a truly piteous object.

"Not the least, Mr. Tuft," said she, calmly smiling; "or, even if you

_have_, I'll forgive it on one condition"----

"Your Ladyship has only to intimate"----

"That you will go through it all with Miss Macspleuchan; or, couldn't we

get up a sweet scene with my maid? Annette is a pretty little thing, and

her broken English"----

"Your Ladyship is pleased to be exceedingly severe; but I feel that I

deserve it. Still, knowing your Ladyship's good-nature, I will venture

to ask one great favor, which, if you refuse, I will within an hour quit

Yatton; that your Ladyship will, in mercy to my feelings, mention this

little scene to no one."

"If you wish it, Mr. Tuft, I will preserve your secret," she replied in

a kinder and more serious manner than he had ever witnessed in her; and,

when he had escaped into solitude, he could hardly tell whom he hated

most--himself, or the Lady Cecilia. Several days afterwards, the Marquis

Gants-Jaunes de Millefleurs, purposing to quit Yatton on his way

northward, sought a favorable opportunity to lay himself--the

brilliant, irresistible marquis--at the feet of the all-conquering Lady

Cecilia, the future Lady Drelincourt, peeress in her own right, and

mistress of the family estates. He had done the same kind of thing half

a dozen times to as many women--all of them of ample fortune, and most

of them also of rank. His manner was exquisitely delicate and winning;

but Lady Cecilia, with a slight blush, (for she was really pleased,)

calmly refused him. He saw it was utterly in vain; and for a few moments

felt in an unutterably foolish position. Quickly recovering himself,

however, he assumed an air of delicate raillery, and put her into such

good humor, that, forgetful in the moment of her promise to poor Tuft,

she, in the "strictest confidence in the world," communicated to the

marquis the offer which Mr. Tuft had been beforehand with him in making

to her! The marquis's cheek flushed and tingled; and, without being able

to analyze what passed through his mind, the result may be stated as an

intolerable feeling, that he and Tuft were a couple of sneaking

adventurers, and worse--of ridiculous and exposed adventurers. For

almost the first time in his life, he felt such an embarrassment amid

the momentary conflict of his thoughts and feelings, as kept him silent.

At length, "I presume, Lady Cecilia," said he, in a low tone, with an

air of distress, and a glance which did more in his behalf with Lady

Cecilia than a thousand of his most flattering and eloquent speeches,

"that I shall, in like manner, afford amusement to your Ladyship and Mr.

Tuft?"

"Sir," said she, haughtily, and coloring--"Mr. Tuft and the Marquis

Gants-Jaunes de Millefleurs, are two very different persons. I am

surprised, Monsieur le Marquis, that you should have made such an

observation!"

Hereupon he felt greatly consoled, and perfectly secure against being

exposed to Tuft, as Tuft had been exposed to him. Yet he was mistaken.

How can the reader forgive Lady Cecilia for her double breach of

promise, when he is informed, that only a day or two afterwards, Tuft

and she being thrown together, partly out of pity to her rejected and

bitterly mortified suitor, partly from an impulse of womanly vanity, and

partly from a sort of glimpse of even-handed justice requiring such a

step, as a kind of reparation to Tuft for her exposure of him to the

marquis--she ("in the strictest confidence," however) informed him that

his example had been followed by the marquis; utterly forgetful of that

excellent maxim, "begin nothing of which you have not well considered

the end." It had not occurred to her Ladyship as being a thing almost

certain to ensue upon her breach of faith, that Tuft would ask her

whether she had violated _his_ confidence. He did so: she blushed

scarlet--and though, like her august papa, she could have _equivocated_

when she could not have _lied_, here she was in a dilemma from which

nothing but a fib could possibly extricate her; and in a confident tone,

but with a burning cheek, she told a falsehood, and had, moreover, the

pain of being conscious, by Mr. Tuft's look, that he did not believe

her.--Nothing could exceed the comical air of embarrassment of the

marquis and Mr. Tuft, whenever, after this, they were alone together!

How fearful lest--how doubtful whether--each knew as much as the other!

To return, however, to the Earl of Dreddlington, (who was utterly in

ignorance of the marquis and Mr. Tuft's proposals to Lady Cecilia,) the

difficulty which at present harassed his Lordship was, how he could,

without compromising his own dignity, or injuring his darling scheme by

a premature development of his purpose, sound Titmouse upon the subject.

How to break the ice--to broach the affair--was the great problem which

the earl turned over and over again in his mind. Now, be it observed,

that when a muddle-headed man is called upon at length _to act_--however

long beforehand he may have had notice of it--however assured he may

have been of the necessity for eventually taking one course or another,

and consequently, however ample the opportunity had for consideration,

he remains confused and irresolute up to the very _last instant_--when

he acts, after all, merely as the creature of caprice and impulse! 'Twas

thus with Lord Dreddlington. He had thought of half a dozen different

ways of commencing with Titmouse, and decided upon adopting each; yet,

on the arrival of the anxiously looked for moment, he had lost sight of

them all, in his inward fluster and nervousness.

'Twas noon, and Titmouse, smoking a cigar, was walking slowly up and

down, his hands stuck into his surtout pockets, and resting on his hips,

in the fir-tree walk at the end of the garden--the spot to which he

seemed, during the stay of his grand guests, to have been tacitly

restricted for the enjoyment of the luxury in question. As soon as

Titmouse was aware of the earl's approach, he hastily tossed aside his

cigar. The earl "begged" he would take another; and tried to calm and

steady himself, by a moment's reflection upon his overwhelming

superiority over Titmouse in every respect; but it was in vain.

Now--to pause for a moment--what anxiety and embarrassment would not his

Lordship have been spared, had he been aware of one little fact; viz.

that Mr. Gammon was unconsciously, secretly, and potently, his friend,

in the great matter which lay so near to his heart? For so, in truth, it

was. He had used all the art he was master of, and availed himself of

all his mysterious power over Titmouse, to get him to make, at all

events, an _advance_ to his distinguished kinswoman. Considering,

however, how necessary it was "to be off with the old love before he was

on with the new," he had commenced operations by satisfying Titmouse

how vain and hopeless, and, indeed, unworthy of him, was his passion for

poor Miss Aubrey. Here, however, Gammon had not so much difficulty to

contend with as he had anticipated; for Miss Aubrey's image had been

long ago jostled out of Titmouse's recollection, by the innumerable

brilliant and fashionable women among whom he had been latterly thrown.

When, therefore, Gammon veraciously informed him that Miss Aubrey had

_fallen into a decline_! and that, moreover, when he (Gammon) had,

according to his promise to Titmouse, taken an opportunity of pressing

his wishes upon her, she had scornfully scouted the bare notion of such

a thing!

"'Pon--my soul! The--devil--she did!" said Titmouse, with an air of

insolent astonishment. "The gal's a devilish pretty gal, no doubt," he

presently continued, knocking the ashes off his cigar with an

indifferent air; "but--it's too good a joke--'pon my soul it is; but d'

ye think, Gammon, she ever supposed I _meant_ marriage? By Jove!" Here

he winked his eye at Gammon, and then slowly expelled a mouthful of

smoke. Gammon had grown pale with the conflict excited within him, by

the last words of the execrable little miscreant. He controlled his

feelings, however, and succeeded in preserving silence.

"Ah--well!" continued Titmouse, after another whiff or two, with an air

of commiseration, "if the poor gal's _booked_ for kingdom come--eh? it's

no use; there's no harm done. Deuced poor, all of 'em, I hear! It's

devilish hard, by the way, Gammon, that the prettiest gals are always

the soonest picked off for the churchyard!" As soon as Gammon had

completely mastered his feelings, he proceeded to excite the pride and

ambition of Titmouse, by expatiating upon the splendor of an alliance

with the last representative of the elder branch of so ancient and

illustrious a house; in fact, when Gammon came, he said, to think of it,

he feared it was _too_ grand a stroke, and that Lady Cecilia would not

entertain the notion for a moment. He told Titmouse that she had refused

crowds of young lords: that she would be a peeress of the realm in her

own right, with an independent income of £5,000 a-year; and have

mansions, seats, and castles, in each of the four quarters of the

kingdom! Topics such as these excited and inflated Titmouse to the full

extent desired by Mr. Gammon; who, moreover, with great solemnity of

manner, gave him distinctly to understand, that on his being able to

effect an alliance with the Lady Cecilia, absolutely depended his

continuance in, or expulsion from, the possession of the whole Yatton

property. Thus it came to pass, that Titmouse was penetrated by a far

keener desire to ally himself to the Lady Cecilia, than ever the earl

had experienced to bring about such an auspicious event; and at the very

moment of Titmouse's catching sight of the earl, while pacing up and

down the fir-tree walk, inhaling the soothing influence of his cigar--as

I a short time ago presented him to the reader--he was tormenting

himself with apprehensions that such a prize was too splendid for _him_

to draw, and asking himself the constantly recurring question, how, in

the name of all that was funny, could he set the thing a-going? When

Greek met Greek, _then_ came--it was said--the tug of war: and when the

Earl of Dreddlington and Titmouse--a great fool and a little fool?--came

to meet each other, impelled by the same wishes, and restrained by

similar apprehensions, it was like the encounter of two wily

diplomatists, sitting down with the intention of outwitting each other,

in obtaining an object, in respect of which their aim was, in

fact--unknown to each other--precisely coincident; this hidden

coincidence being the exact point which their exquisite manœuvres

had succeeded in reciprocally masking: it being quite possible for

Talleyrand and Pozzo di Borgo, thus pitted against each other, to have

separated, after a dozen long conferences, each having failed to secure

their common object--peace.

"Well, Mr. Titmouse"--commenced the earl, blandly, stepping at once,

with graceful boldness, out of the mist, confusion, and perplexity which

prevailed among his Lordship's ideas, few as they were--"_what are you

thinking about_?--For you _seem_ to be thinking!" and a courteous little

laugh accompanied the last words.

"'Pon--'pon my life--I--I--_beg_ your Lordship's pardon--but

it's--monstrous odd your Lordship should have known it"--stammered

Titmouse; and his face suddenly grew of a scarlet color.

"Sir," replied the earl, with greater skill than he had ever evinced in

his whole life before--(such is the effect of any one's being intensely

_in earnest_)--"it is not at all odd, when it happens that--the

probability is--that--we are, perhaps--mind, sir, I mean

possibly--thinking _about the same thing_!" Titmouse grew more and more

confused, gazing in silence, with a strange simpering stare, at his

noble companion, who, with his hands joined behind him, was walking

slowly along with Titmouse.

"Sir," continued the earl, in a low tone--breaking a very awkward

pause--"it gives me sincere satisfaction to assure you, that I can fully

appreciate the delicate embarrassment which I perceive you are now"----

"My Lord--your Lordship's most _uncommon_ polite"--quoth Titmouse,

suddenly taking off his hat, and bowing very low. The earl moved his hat

also, and slightly bowed, with a proudly gratified air; and again

occurred a pause, which was broken by Titmouse.

"Then your Lordship thinks--a--a--that--_it will do_?" he inquired very

sheepishly, but anxiously.

"Sir, I have the honor to assure you, that as far as I am concerned, I

see no obst"----

"Yes--but excuse me, my Lord--your Lordship sees--I mean--my Lord, your

Lordship sees----doesn't your Lordship?"

"Sir, I think--nay, I believe I _do_"--interrupted the earl, wishing to

relieve the evident embarrassment of his companion--"but--I see--nothing

that should--alarm you."

[How interesting to watch the mysterious process by which these two

powerful minds were gradually approximating towards understanding each

other! 'Twas a sort of _equation_ with an unknown quantity, in due

course of elimination!]

"Doesn't your Lordship, indeed?" inquired Titmouse, rather briskly.

"Sir, it was a saying of one of the great--I mean, sir, it is--you must

often have heard, sir--in short, _nothing venture, nothing have_!"

"I'd venture a precious deal, my Lord, if I only thought I could get

what _I'm_ after!"

"Sir?" exclaimed the earl, condescendingly.

"If your Lordship would only be so particular--so uncommon kind--as to

name the thing to her Ladyship--by way of--eh, my Lord? A sort of

breaking the ice, and all that"----

"Sir, I feel and have a just pride in assuring you, that the Lady

Cecilia is a young lady of that superior delicacy of"----

"_Does_ your Lordship really think I've a _ghost_ of a chance?"

interrupted Titmouse, anxiously. "_She_ must have named the thing to

your Lordship, no doubt--eh, my Lord?"

This queer notion of the young lady's delicacy a little staggered her

distinguished father for a moment or two. What was he to say? She and

he had really often named the thing to each other; and here the question

was put to him plumply. The earl scorned a flat lie, and never

condescended to equivocation except when it was absolutely necessary.

"Sir," he said hesitatingly; "undoubtedly--If I were to say--that now

and then, when your attentions have been so pointed"----

"'Pon my life, my Lord, I never meant it; if your Lordship will only

believe me," interrupted Titmouse, earnestly; "I beg a thousand

pardons--I mean no harm, my Lord."

"Sir, there is no harm done," said the earl, kindly. "Sir, I know human

nature too well, or I have lived thus long to little purpose, not to be

aware that we are not always master of our own feelings."

"That's exactly it, my Lord! Excuse me, but your Lordship's hit the

thing off to a T, as folks say!"

"Do not imagine, Mr. Titmouse, that I think your attentions may have

been _unpleasant_ to the Lady Cecilia--by no means; I cannot, with

truth, say any such thing!"

"Oh, my Lord!" exclaimed Titmouse, taking off his hat, bowing, and

placing his hand upon his breast, where his little heart was palpitating

with unusual force and distinctness.

"_Faint heart_, says the proverb, Mr. Titmouse, ah, ha!" quoth the earl,

with gentle gayety.

"Yes, my Lord, it's enough to make one faint indeed! Now, if your

Lordship--(I'm not used to this sort of thing, my Lord)--would just make

a sort of beginning for me, my Lord, with the Lady Cicely, to set us

going, my Lord--the least shove would do, my Lord--because, my Lord,

_courtship's_ a very--a--a"----

"Well, Mr. Titmouse," said the earl, with a gracious smile, "since your

modesty is so overpowering--I'll try--to become your ambassador to the

Lady Cecilia. If, Mr. Titmouse," his Lordship presently added in a

serious tone, "you are fortunate enough to succeed in engaging the

affections of the Lady Cecilia, you will discover that you have secured

indeed an invaluable prize."

"To be sure, my Lord! And consider, too, her Ladyship's uncommon high

rank--it's so particular condescending.--By the way, my Lord, will

she--if she and I can hit it off, so as to marry one another--be called

_Mrs. Titmouse_, or shall I be called _Lord Titmouse_? I wonder how that

will be, my Lord? 'Tis only, your Lordship understands, on Lady Cicely's

account I ask, because it's, in course, all one to _me_ when once we're

married."

The earl was gazing at him as he went on, with an expression of mingled

surprise and concern: presently, however, he added with calm

seriousness, "Sir, it is not an unreasonable question, though I should

have imagined that you could hardly--be--but--in short, the Lady Cecilia

will retain her rank, and become the Lady Cecilia Titmouse--that is,

during my life; but on my demise, she succeeds to the barony of

Drelincourt, and then will be called, of course, Lady Drelincourt."

"And what shall _I_ be then, my Lord?" inquired Titmouse, eagerly.

"Sir, you will of course continue Mr. Titmouse."

"'Pon my life, my Lord--shall I indeed?" he interrupted with a

crestfallen air, "must we be called _Mr. Titmouse and Lady Drelincourt_?

Excuse me, my Lord, but it don't sound at all like man and wife."

"Sir, so it always has been, and will be, and so it ever ought to be,"

replied the earl, gravely.

"Well but, my Lord, (excuse me, my Lord)--but marriage is a very serious

thing, my Lord, your Lordship knows"----

"It is, sir, indeed," replied the earl, gloom visibly overspreading his

features.

"Suppose," continued Titmouse, "Lady Cicely should die before me?"

The earl, remaining silent, fixed on Titmouse the eye of a FATHER--a

father, though a very foolish one; and presently, with a sensible tremor

in his voice, replied, "Sir, these are rather singular questions--but,"

he paused for some moments--"in such a mournful contingency as the one

you have hinted at"----

"Oh, my Lord! I humbly beg pardon--of course, I should be, 'pon my soul,

my Lord, most uncommon sorry"--interrupted Titmouse, with a little alarm

in his manner.

"I was saying, sir--that in such an event, if Lady Drelincourt left no

issue, you would succeed to the barony; but should she leave issue, they

will be called Honorable"----

"What!--'the Honorable Tittlebat Titmouse,' if it's a boy, and the

'Honorable Cecilia Titmouse,' if it's a girl?"

"Sir, it will be so--unless you should choose to take the name and arms

of Dreddlington, on marrying the sole heiress"----

"Oh! indeed, my Lord? 'Pon my life, my Lord, _that's_ worth

considering--because--betwixt your Lordship and I, I a'n't over and

above pleased with my own name. What will it cost to change it, now, my

Lord?"

"Sir," said the earl, struck with the idea, "that is really a thing

worth considering. But as for the _expense_--in an affair of such

magnitude, sir, I presume it would not be a matter of serious

consideration."

After some further conversation, the earl came plump upon the great

pivot upon which the whole arrangement was to turn--settlements and

jointures--oh, as to them, Titmouse, who was recovering from the shock

of the discovery that his marriage, however it might degrade the Lady

Cecilia, would not ennoble him--promised everything--would leave

everything in the hands of his Lordship. Soon afterwards they separated;

the earl suggesting to him, that probably in a matter of infinite

delicacy, like that on which they had been conversing, he would keep his

own counsel--to which also Titmouse pledged himself. Soon afterwards,

and before seeing his daughter, with an anxious, but not an excited air,

he ordered his horse, and took a long ride, accompanied only by his

groom: and if ever in his whole life he had attempted serious

REFLECTION, it was on the occasion of that same long, slow, and solitary

ride; then, for the first time, he forgot his peerage, and thought only

of the _man_--and the father.

But to what purpose? Shortly after his return, he sought the Lady

Cecilia, and performed his promise, by preparing her to receive,

probably on the ensuing day, the proposals of TITTLEBAT TITMOUSE.

The desired opportunity occurred the next day. Titmouse had slept like a

top all night, after smoking in his bedroom a great many cigars, and

drinking several tumblers of brandy and water. Lady Cecilia, however,

had passed a very uneasy, and almost a sleepless night, and did not make

her appearance at the breakfast-table. Understanding that her Ladyship

was in the drawing-room, and alone, about noon, Titmouse, who had

bestowed during the interval more than usual pains upon his dress,

gently opened the door, and observing her reclining alone on the sofa,

he closed the door behind him, with a sudden beating of the heart, and

approached her, bowing profoundly. Poor Lady Cecilia immediately sat up,

very pale and trembling.

"Good-morning, good-morning, Lady Cicely," commenced Titmouse, with

evident agitation, taking a chair and sitting down in it, plump opposite

to her.

"You aren't well this morning, are you, Lady Cicely?" he continued,

observing how pale she looked, and that she did not seem disposed to

speak.

"I am quite well," she replied in a low tone: and then each was silent.

"It's beginning to look like winter a little, eh, Lady Cicely?" said he,

after an embarrassing pause, looking through the windows--and his words

diffused an icy coldness over Lady Cecilia. 'Twas an overcast day; and a

strong wind was stripping the sere and yellow leaves in great numbers

from the lofty trees which were not far distant, and gave forth a

melancholy, rushing, moaning sound.

"Certainly it is getting rather cheerless," replied Lady Cecilia, after

several moments' pause. Titmouse turned pale; and twirling his fingers

in his hair, fixed upon her a stupid and most embarrassing look, under

which her eyes fell towards the ground, and remained looking in that

direction.

"I--I--hope his Lordship's been saying a good word for me, Lady Cicely?"

he inquired with an absurdly sheepish air.

"My father mentioned your name to me yesterday," she replied, trembling

excessively.

"'Pon my soul, monstrous kind!" said Titmouse, trying desperately to

look at his ease. "_Said_ he'd break the ice for me." Here ensued

another pause. "Everybody must have a beginning, you know. 'Pon my

solemn honor, Lady Cicely, all he said about me is quite true."

Profoundly as was Lady Cecilia depressed, she looked up at Titmouse for

a moment with evident surprise. "Now, Lady Cicely, just as between

friends, didn't he tell you something _very_ particular about me?

Didn't he? Eh?" She made him no answer.

"I dare say, Lady Cicely, though somehow you look sad enough, you a'n't

_vexed_ to see me here? Eh? There's many and many a woman in London that

would--but it's no use now. 'Pon my soul, I love you, I do, Lady

Cicely;" she trembled violently, for he was drawing his chair nearer to

her. She felt sick--sick almost to death; and a mist came for a moment

over her eyes.

"I know it's--it's a monstrous unpleasant piece of--I mean, it's an

awkward thing to do; but I hope you love _me_, Lady Cicely, eh! a

little?" Her head hung down, and a very scalding tear oozed out and

trickled down her cheek. "Hope you aren't sorry, dear Lady Cicely? _I'm_

most uncommon proud and happy! Come, Lady Cicely." He took the thin

white hand that was nearest him, and raised it to his lips. Had his

perceptions been only a trifle keener, he could not have failed to

observe a faint thrill pervade Lady Cecilia as he performed this act of

gallantry, and an expression of features which looked very much like

disgust. He had, however, seen love made on the stage, frequently; and,

as he had seen lovers do there, he now dropped down on one knee, still

holding Lady Cecilia's hand in his, and pressing it a second time to his

lips.

"If your Ladyship will only make me--so happy--as to be--my wife--'pon

my life you're welcome to all I have; and you may consider this place

entirely your own! Do you understand me, dearest Lady Cicely? Come! 'Pon

my life--I'm quite distracted--do you love me, Lady Cicely? Only say the

word." A faint--a very faint sound issued from her lips--'twas--blush

for her, my lady reader--"YES." [Oh, poor Lady Cecilia! Oh, fatal--fatal

falsehood!]

"Then, as true as God's in heaven, dear gal, I love you," said he, with

ardor and energy; and rising from his knee, he sat down beside her upon

the sofa--placed an arm round her waist; with his other hand grasped

hers--and--imprinted a kiss upon the pale cheek which had been so

haughtily withdrawn from the presumptuous advances of the Marquis de

Millefleurs, and from some half dozen others; several of whom had been

men of commanding pretensions--elegant in person and manners--of great

accomplishments--of intellect--of considerable fortune--of good family;

but in her opinion, and that of the earl her father, not of family good

_enough_, nor fortune considerable _enough_, to entitle any of them to

an alliance with her.

"'Pon my life, Lady Cicely, you _are_ a most lovely gal," quoth

Titmouse, with increasing energy--"and now you're all my own! Though I

_am_ only plain Mr. Titmouse, and you'll be Lady Cicely still--I'll make

you a good husband!" and again he pressed her hand and kissed her cold

cheek. But slow and dull as were the Lady Cecilia's feelings, they were

becoming too much excited to admit of her continuing much longer in the

room.

"I'm sure--you'll--excuse--me, Mr. Titmouse," said she, rising, and

speaking quickly and faintly. When she had regained her room, she wept

bitterly for upwards of an hour; and Miss Macspleuchan, well aware of

the cause of it, knew not how to console one who had so deliberately

immolated herself before the hideous little image of Mammon; who, in

degrading herself, had also--and Miss Macspleuchan, a true lady, when

alone, shed bitter and scalding tears, and her bosom swelled with

wounded pride and indignation at the thought--degraded her whole sex. In

due time, however, the _Aurora_, a fashionable morning London newspaper,

thus announced to the public, as an _auspicious_ event, the one which I

have so faithfully, feeling much pain the while, described to the

reader:--

"It is rumored that Mr. Titmouse, who so lately recovered the very

large estates of Yatton, in Yorkshire, and whose appearance in the

fashionable world has created so great a sensation, and who is

already connected, by consanguinity, with the ancient and noble

family of Dreddlington, is about to form a closer alliance with it,

and is now the accepted suitor of the lovely and accomplished Lady

Cecilia Philippa Leopoldina Plantagenet, sole daughter and heiress

of the Right Hon. the Earl of Dreddlington, and next in succession

to the barony of Drelincourt, the most ancient, we believe, in the

kingdom."