Chapter X (2)

"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."