Ten Thousand a-Year Volume Ii Part 30

"Human nature, Charles, must not be tried too far--look at Agnes, and the darling little loves"----

"I am not likely to consult their interests, Kate, by yielding to unmanly emotion--am I, sweet Agnes?" She made him no reply, but shook her head, sobbing bitterly.

"Pray what do you think, Charles, of your friend _Mr. Gammon_, now?"

inquired Kate, suddenly and scornfully. "Oh, the smooth-tongued villain!

I've always hated him!"

"I must say there's something about his eye that is anything but pleasing," said Mrs. Aubrey; "and so I thought when I saw him at York for a moment."

"He's a hypocrite, Charles--depend upon it, and in this letter he has thrown off the mask"--interrupted Kate.

"But _is_ it _his_ letter? How do we know that he has had anything to do with it?" inquired her brother, calmly--"It is much more probable that it is the production of old Mr. Quirk alone, for whom Mr. Gammon has, I know, a profound contempt. The handwriting is Mr. Quirk's; the style is a.s.suredly not Mr. Gammon's; and the whole tone of the communication is such as satisfies me that neither was the composition of the letter, nor the idea of sending it, his; besides, he has really shown on every occasion a straightforward and disinterested"----

"Oh, Charles, it is very weak of you to be so hood-winked by such a fellow; I shudder to think of him! One of these days, Charles, you will be of my opinion, and recollect what I now say!"--While she thus spoke, and Mrs. Aubrey was, with a trembling hand, preparing tea, a double knock was heard at the street door.

"Heavens, Charles! who can that possibly be, and at this time of night?"

exclaimed Kate, with alarmed energy.

"I really cannot conjecture"--replied Mr. Aubrey, with an agitation of manner which he found it impossible to conceal--"we've certainly but very few visitors--and it is so late." The servant in a few minutes terminated their suspense, and occasioned them nearly equal alarm and amazement, by laying down on the table a card bearing the name of MR.

GAMMON.

"Mr. Gammon!" exclaimed all three, in a breath, looking apprehensively at each other--"Is he _alone_?" inquired Mr. Aubrey, with forced calmness.

"Yes, sir."

"Show him into the study, then," replied Mr. Aubrey, "and say I will be with him in a few moments' time."

"Dear Charles, don't, dearest, think of going down," said his wife and sister, with excessive alarm and agitation; "desire him to send up his message."

"No, I shall go and see him, and at once," replied Mr. Aubrey, taking one of the candles.

"For Heaven's sake, Charles, mind what you say to the man: he will watch every word you utter. And, dearest, don't stay long; consider what tortures we shall be in!" said poor Mrs. Aubrey, accompanying him to the door, and trembling from head to foot.

"Rely on my prudence, and also that I shall not stop long," he replied; and descending the stairs, he entered the study. In a chair near the little book-strewn table sat his dreaded visitor--suggesting to his disturbed vision the idea of a deadly snake coiled up before him.

Instantly, on seeing Mr. Aubrey, Gammon rose, with distress and agitation visible in his countenance and deportment. Mr. Aubrey, with calmness and dignity, begged him to resume his seat; and when he had done so, sat down opposite to him, with a sternly inquisitive look, awaiting his visitor's errand. He was not kept long in suspense.

"Oh, Mr. Aubrey!" commenced Mr. Gammon, with a somewhat tremulous voice, "I perceive, from your manner, that my fears are justified, and that I am an intruder--a dishonorable and hypocritical one I must indeed appear; but, as I have done nothing to forfeit my right to be treated as should be one gentleman by another, I request you to hear me. This visit appears indeed unseasonable; but, late this afternoon, I made a discovery which has shocked me severely, nay, I may say, disgusted me beyond expression. Am I right, Mr. Aubrey, in supposing that this evening you have received a letter from Mr. Quirk, and about the balance due on our account?"

"I have, sir," replied Mr. Aubrey, coldly.

"I thought as much," muttered Gammon, with suppressed vehemence--"execrable, heartless, sordid old----And he _knew_,"

continued Gammon, addressing Mr. Aubrey in an indignant tone, "that my word was solemnly pledged to you."

"I have no intention of making any complaint, or uttering any reproaches, sir," said Mr. Aubrey, eying his agitated companion searchingly.

"But _I_ have, Mr. Aubrey," said Gammon, haughtily. "My senior partner has broken faith with me. Sir, you have already paid more than will cover what is justly due to us; and I recommend you, after this, to _have the bill taxed_. You will thereby get rid of every farthing of the balance now demanded; and I give you this recommendation _bona fide_, and upon the honor of a gentleman." Notwithstanding the air of sincerity with which this was uttered, a cold thrill of apprehension and suspicion pa.s.sed through Mr. Aubrey's heart, and he felt confident that some subtle and dangerous manuvre was being practised upon him--that he was urged to take some hostile step for instance--which would be unsuccessful, and yet afford a pretext to Messrs. Quirk, Gammon, and Snap, to treat him as one guilty of a breach of faith, and _warrant them in proceeding to extremities_. He regarded Mr. Gammon's words as the hissing of a serpent, and shuddered.

"I have no intention, sir, to do anything of the kind," said Mr. Aubrey.

"The original agreement between us was, that your bill should not be taxed. I adhere to it; and whatever course you may feel disposed to adopt, I shall take no steps whatever of the kind you mention. At the same time it is utterly impossible for me to pay"----

"Mr. Aubrey!" interrupted Gammon, imploringly.

"And what you do intend to do, for Heaven's sake, sir, do quickly, and keep me not in suspense."

"I perceive, Mr. Aubrey, that notwithstanding what I have said, I am distrusted," replied Gammon, with a somewhat proud and peremptory tone and manner.--"I excuse it; you are justly irritated, and have been insulted: so have I, too, sir; and I choose to repeat to you, upon my sacred word of honor as a gentleman, and in the sight of Heaven, that I entirely disown and scout this whole procedure; that I never knew anything about it till, accidentally, I discovered lying on Mr. Quirk's desk, after his departure this evening from the office, a rough draft of a letter which I presumed you had received; especially as, on a strict inquiry of the clerks, I found that a letter had been put into the post, addressed to you. Nay, more; Mr. Quirk, whose rapacity increases--I grieve to own--with his years, has been for many weeks hara.s.sing me about this detestable business, and urging me to consent, but in vain, to such an application as he has now meanly made behind my back, regardless of the injury it was calculated to do my feelings, and, indeed, the doubt it must throw over my sincerity and honor, which I prize infinitely beyond life itself. Only a fortnight ago, Mr. Aubrey, this old man solemnly pledged himself," continued Gammon, with suppressed fury, "never to mention the matter to either me or you, again, for at least a couple of years, unless something extraordinary should intervene!--If the letter which you have received be a transcript of the rough draft which I have read, it is a vulgar, unfeeling, brutal letter, and contains, moreover--for why should I keep faith with even my senior partner, who has so outrageously broken faith with me?--two or three wilfully false statements. I therefore feel it due to myself to disavow all partic.i.p.ation in this miserable product of fraud and extortion--and if you still distrust me, I can only regret it, but shall not presume to find fault with you for it. I am half disposed, on account of this, and one or two other things which have happened, to close my connection with Mr. Quirk from this day--forever. He and I have nothing in common; and the species of business which he and Mr. Snap chiefly court and relish, is perfectly odious to me. But if I should continue in the firm, I will undertake to supply you with one pretty conclusive evidence of my sincerity and truth in what I have been saying to you--namely, that on the faith and honor of a gentleman, you may depend upon hearing no more of this matter from any member of our firm, except from me, and that at a very remote period. Let the _event_, Mr.

Aubrey, speak for itself."--While Gammon was speaking with eloquent earnestness and fervor, he had felt Mr. Aubrey's eye fixed on him with an expression of stern incredulity--which, however, he at length perceived, with infinite inward relief and pleasure, to be giving way as he went on.

"Certainly, Mr. Gammon"--said Mr. Aubrey, in a very different tone and manner from that which he had till then adopted--"I will not disguise from you that the letter you have mentioned, has occasioned me--and my family--deep distress and dismay; for it is utterly out of my power to comply with its requisitions: and if it be intended to be really acted on, and followed up"--he paused, and with difficulty repressed his emotions, "all my little plans are forever frustrated--and I am at your mercy--to go to prison, if you choose, and there end my days."--He paused--his lip trembled, and his eyes were for a moment obscured with starting tears. So also was it with Mr. Gammon, who looked for some time aside. "But,"--resumed Mr. Aubrey,--"after the explicit and voluntary a.s.surance which you have given me, I feel it impossible not to give you implicit credence. I can imagine no motive for what would be otherwise such elaborate and dreadful deception!"

"_Motive_, Mr. Aubrey! The only motive I am conscious of, is one supplied by profound sympathy for your misfortunes--admiration of your character--and my sole object is, your speedy extrication from your very serious embarra.s.sments. I am in the habit, Mr. Aubrey," he continued in a lower tone, "of concealing and checking my feelings--but there _are_ occasions"--he paused, and added with a somewhat faltering voice--"Mr.

Aubrey, it pains me inexpressibly to observe that your anxieties--your severe exertions--I trust in G.o.d I may not rightly add, your _privations_--are telling on your appearance. You are certainly much thinner." It was impossible any longer to distrust the sincerity of Mr.

Gammon--to withstand the arts of this consummate actor. Mr. Aubrey held out long, but at length surrendered entirely, and fully believed all that Gammon had said:--entertaining, moreover, commensurate feelings of _grat.i.tude_, towards one who had done so much to protect him from rapacious avarice, and the ruin into which it would have precipitated him; and of _respect_, for one who had evinced such an anxious, scrupulous, and sensitive jealousy for his own honor and reputation, and resolute determination to vindicate it against suspicion. Subsequent conversation served to strengthen his favorable disposition towards Gammon, and the same effect was also produced when he adverted to his previous and unwarrantable distrust and disbelief of that gentleman. He looked fatigued and hara.s.sed; it was growing late; he had come, on his errand of courtesy and kindness, a great distance: why should not Mr.

Aubrey ask him up-stairs, to join them at tea? To be sure, Mr. Aubrey had hitherto felt a disinclination--he scarce knew why--to have any more than mere business intercourse with Mr. Gammon, a member of such a firm as Quirk, Gammon, and Snap--and, moreover, Mr. Runnington had more than once let fall expressions indicative of vehement suspicion of Mr.

Gammon; so had the Attorney-General; but what had Gammon's _conduct_ been? Had it not practically given the lie to such insinuations and distrust, unless Mr. Aubrey was to own himself incapable of forming a judgment on a man's line of conduct which had been so closely watched as that of Gammon, by himself, Aubrey? Then Miss Aubrey had ever, and especially that very evening--expressed an intense dislike of Mr.

Gammon--had avowed, also, her early and uniform disgust--'twould be extremely embarra.s.sing to her suddenly to introduce into her presence such an individual as Gammon: again, he had promised to return quickly, in order to relieve their anxiety: why should he not have the inexpressible gratification of letting Mr. Gammon himself, in his own pointed and impressive manner, dispel all their fears? He would, probably, not stay long.

"Mr. Gammon," said he, having balanced for some moments these conflicting considerations in his mind, "there are only Mrs. Aubrey, and my sister, Miss Aubrey, up-stairs. I am sure they will be happy to see me return to them in time for tea, accompanied by the bearer of such agreeable tidings as yours. Mr. Quirk's letter, to be frank, reached me when in their presence, and we all read it together, and were distressed and confounded at its contents." After a faint show of reluctance to trespa.s.s on the ladies so suddenly, and at so late an hour, Mr. Gammon slipped off his great-coat, and with intense but suppressed feelings of exultation at the success of his scheme, followed Mr. Aubrey up-stairs.

He was not a little fl.u.s.tered on entering the room and catching a first glimpse of the two lovely women--and one of them _Miss Aubrey_--sitting in it, their faces turned with eager interest and apprehension towards the door, as he made his appearance. He observed that both of them started, and turned excessively pale.

"Let me introduce to you," said Mr. Aubrey, quickly, and with a bright a.s.suring smile, "a gentleman who has kindly called to relieve us all from great anxiety--Mr. Gammon: Mr. Gammon, Mrs. Aubrey--Miss Aubrey."

Mr. Gammon bowed with an air of deep deference, but with easy self-possession; his soul thrilling within him at the sight of her whose image had never been from before his eyes since they had first seen her.

"I shall trespa.s.s on you for only a few minutes, ladies," said he, diffidently, approaching the chair towards which he was motioned. "I could not resist the opportunity so politely afforded me by Mr. Aubrey of paying my compliments here, and personally a.s.suring you of my utter abhorrence of the mercenary and oppressive conduct of a person with whom, alas! I am closely connected in business, and whose letter to you of this evening I only casually became acquainted with, a few moments before starting off hither. Forget it, ladies; I pledge my honor that it shall _never be acted on_!" This he said with a fervor of manner that could not but make an impression on those whom he addressed.

"I'm sure we are happy to see you, Mr. Gammon, and very much obliged to you, indeed," said Mrs. Aubrey, with a sweet smile, and a face from which alarm was vanishing fast. Miss Aubrey said nothing; her brilliant eyes glanced with piercing anxiety, now at her brother, then at his companion. Gammon felt that he was distrusted. Nothing could be more prepossessing--more bland and insinuating, without a trace of fulsomeness, than his manner and address, as he took his seat between these two agitated but lovely women. Miss Aubrey's paleness rather suddenly gave way to a vivid and beautiful flush; and her eyes presently sparkled with delighted surprise on perceiving the relieved air of her brother, and the apparent cordiality and sincerity of Mr. Gammon. When she reflected, moreover, on her expressions of harshness and severity concerning him that very evening, and of which he now appeared so undeserving, it threw into her manner towards him a sort of delicate and charming embarra.s.sment. Her ear drank in eagerly every word he uttered, so pointed, so significant, so full of earnest good-will towards her brother. Their visitor's manner was that of a gentleman; his countenance and conversation were those of a man of intellect. Was _this_ the keen and cruel pettifogger whom she had learned at once to dread and to despise? They and he were, in a word, completely at their ease with one another, within a few minutes after he had taken his seat at the tea-table. Miss Aubrey's beauty shone that evening with even unwonted l.u.s.tre, and appeared as if it had not been in the least impaired by the anguish of mind which she had so long suffered. 'Tis quite impossible for me to do justice to the expression of her full beaming blue eyes--an expression of mingled pa.s.sion and intellect--of blended softness and spirit--such as, especially in conjunction with the rich tones of her voice, shed something like madness into the breast of Gammon. She, as well as her lovely sister-in-law, was dressed in mourning, which infinitely set off her dazzling complexion, and, simple and elegant in its drapery, displayed her exquisite proportions to the greatest possible advantage. "Oh, my G.o.d!" thought Gammon, with a momentary thrill of disgust and horror: "and this is the transcendent creature of whom that little miscreant, t.i.tmouse, spoke to me in terms of such presumptuous and revolting license!" What would he not have given to kiss the fair and delicate white hand which pa.s.sed to him his antique tea-cup! Then Gammon's thoughts turned for a moment inward--_why, what a scoundrel was he_! At that instant he was, as it were, reeking with his recent lie. He was there on cruel, false pretences, which alone had secured him access into that little drawing-room, and brought him into contiguity with the dazzling beauty beside him--pure, and innocent as beautiful;--he was a fiend beside an angel. What an execrable hypocrite was he! He caught, on that memorable occasion, a sudden glimpse even of his own real inner man--of his infernal SELFISHNESS and HYPOCRISY--and involuntarily shuddered! Yes--he was striving to fascinate his _victims_!--those whom he was fast pressing on to the verge of destruction--against whom he was, at that moment, meditating profound and subtle schemes of mischief! At length they all got into animated conversation.

Though infinitely charmed by the unaffected simplicity and frankness of their manners, he experienced a sad and painful consciousness at not having made the least _way_ with them. Though physically near to them, he seemed yet really at an unapproachable distance--and particularly from Miss Aubrey. He felt that the courtesy bestowed upon him was accidental, the result merely of his present position, and of the intelligence which he had come to communicate. It was not _personal_--'twas nothing to _Gammon himself_; it would never be renewed, unless he should renew his device! There was not the faintest semblance of _sympathy_ between them and him. Fallen as they were into a lower sphere, they had yet about them, so to speak, a certain atmosphere of conscious personal consequence, derived from high birth and breeding--from superior feelings and a.s.sociations--from a native frankness and dignity of character, which was indestructible and inalienable; and which chilled and checked undue advances of any sort.

They were still the Aubreys of Yatton, and he in their presence, still Mr. Gammon of the firm of Quirk, Gammon, and Snap, of Saffron Hill--and all this, too, without--on the part of the Aubreys--the least effort, the least intention, or even consciousness. No, there had not been exhibited towards him the faintest indication of hauteur. On the contrary, he had been treated with perfect cordiality and frankness.

Yet, dissatisfaction and vexation were, he scarce knew at the moment why, pervading his whole soul. Had he accurately a.n.a.lyzed his own feelings he would have discovered the real clause--_in his own unreasonable, unjustifiable wishes and intentions_! But to return, they talked of t.i.tmouse, and his mode of life and conduct--of his expected alliance with the Lady Cecilia, at the mention of which Gammon's quick eye detected a pa.s.sing smile of scorn on Miss Aubrey's fine countenance, that was _death to all his own fond and ambitious hopes_. After he had been sitting with them for scarcely an hour, he detected Miss Aubrey stealthily glancing at her watch, and at once arose to take his departure with a very easy and graceful air, expressing an apprehension that he had trespa.s.sed upon their kindness. He was cordially a.s.sured to the contrary; but at the same time was not invited either to prolong his stay, or renew his visit. Miss Aubrey made him, he thought, as he inclined towards her, _rather_ a formal courtesy; and the tone of voice--soft and silvery--in which she said "good-night, Mr. Gammon,"

fell on his eager ear, and sank into his vexed heart, like music. On quitting the house, a deep sigh of disappointment escaped him. As he gazed for a moment with longing eyes at the windows of the room in which Miss Aubrey was sitting, he felt profound depression of spirit. He had altogether _failed_; and he had a sort of insupportable consciousness that he deserved to fail, on every account. Her image was before his mind's eye every moment while he was threading his way back to his chambers in Thavies' Inn. He sat for an hour or two before the remnant of his fire, lost in a revery; and sleep came not to his eyes till a very late hour in the morning.

Just as the tortuous mind of Gammon was loosing hold of its sinister purposes in sleep, Mr. Aubrey might have been seen taking his seat in his little study, having himself spent a restless night. 'Twas little more than half-past four o'clock when he entered, candle in hand, the scene of his early and cheerful labors, and sat down before his table, which was covered with loose ma.n.u.scripts and books. His face was certainly overcast with anxiety, but his soul was calm and resolute.

Having lit his fire, he placed his shaded candle upon the table, and leaning back for a moment in his chair, while the flickering increasing light of his crackling fire and of the candle, revealed to him, with a sense of indescribable snugness, his shelves crammed with books, and the window covered with an ample crimson curtain, effectually excluding the chill morning air--he reflected with a heavy sigh upon the precarious tenure by which he held the little comforts yet thus left to him. Oh, thought he--if Providence saw fit to relieve me from the frightful pressure of liability under which I am bound to the earth, at what labor, at what privation would I repine! What gladness would not spring up in my heart!--But rousing himself from vain thoughts of this kind, he began to arrange his ma.n.u.scripts; when his ear caught a sound on the stair--'twas the light stealthy step of his sister, coming down to perform her promised undertaking--not an unusual one by any means--to transcribe for the press the ma.n.u.script which he expected to complete that morning. "My sweet Kate," said he, tenderly, as she entered with her little chamber light, extinguishing it as she entered,--"I am really grieved to see you stirring so early--do, dearest Kate--go back to bed."

But she kissed his cheek affectionately, and refused to do any such thing; and telling him of the restless night she had pa.s.sed, of which indeed her pale and depressed features bore but too legible evidence, she sat herself down in her accustomed place, nearly opposite to him; gently cleared away s.p.a.ce enough for her little desk, and then opening it, was presently engaged in her delightful task--for to her it _was_ indeed delightful--of copying out her brother's composition. Thus she sat, silent and industrious--scarce opening her lips, except to ask him to explain an illegible word or so--opposite to her doting brother, till the hour had arrived--eight o'clock--for the close of their morning toil. The reader will be pleased to hear that the article on which they had been thus engaged--and which was the discussion of a question of foreign politics, of great difficulty and importance--produced him a check for sixty guineas, and excited general attention and admiration.

Oh, how precious was this reward of his honorable and severe toil! How it cheered him who had earned it, and those who were, alas! entirely dependent upon his exertions! And how sensibly, too, it augmented their little means! Grateful, indeed, were all of them for the success which had attended his labors!

As I do not intend to occupy the reader with any details relating to Mr.

Aubrey's Temple avocations, I shall content myself with saying that the more Mr. Weasel and Mr. Aubrey came to know of each other, the more Aubrey respected his legal knowledge and ability, and he, Aubrey's intellectual energy and successful application; which, indeed, consciously brought home to Aubrey its own reward, in the daily acquisition of solid learning, and increasing facility in the use of it.

His mind was formed for THINGS, and was not apt to occupy itself with mere _words_, or technicalities. He was ever in quest of the principles of law--of its reason, and spirit. He quickly began to appreciate the sound practical good sense on which almost all its chief rules are founded, and the effectual manner in which they are accommodated to the innumerable and ever-varying exigencies of human affairs. The mere forms and technicalities of the law, Mr. Aubrey often thought might be compared to short-hand, whose characters to the uninitiated appear quaint and useless, but are perfectly invaluable to him who has seen the object, and patiently acquired the use of them. Whatever Mr. Aubrey's hand found to do, while studying the law, he did it, indeed, _with his might_--which is the grand secret of the difference in the success of different persons addressing themselves to legal studies. Great or small, easy or difficult, simple or complicated, interesting or uninteresting, as might be the affair submitted to him, he made a point of mastering it thoroughly, and, as far as possible, _by his own efforts_; which generated, early, a habit of self-reliance which no one better than he knew the value of--how inestimable, how indispensable, not to the lawyer merely, but to any one intrusted with the responsible management of affairs. In short, he secured that satisfaction and success which are sure to attend the exertions of a man of superior sense and spirit, who is in earnest about that which he has undertaken.

He frequently surprised Mr. Weasel with the exactness and extent of his legal information--with his acuteness, clear-headedness, and tenacity in dealing with matters of downright difficulty: and Mr. Weasel had once or twice an opportunity of expressing his very flattering opinion concerning Mr. Aubrey to the Attorney-General. The mention of that eminent person reminds me of an observation which I intended to have made some time ago. The reader is not to imagine, from my silence upon the subject, that Mr. Aubrey, in his fallen fortunes, was heartlessly forgotten or neglected by the distinguished friends and a.s.sociates of former and more prosperous days. It was not they who withdrew from him, but he who withdrew from them; and that, too, of set purpose, resolutely adhered to, on the ground that it could not be otherwise, without seriously interfering with the due prosecution of those plans of life on which depended not only his _all_, and that of those connected with him--but his fond hopes of yet extricating himself, by his own personal exertions, from the direful difficulties and dangers which at present environed him--of achieving, with his own right hand, independence. Let me not forget here to state a fact which I conceive infinitely to redound to poor Aubrey's honor--viz. that he thrice refused offers made him from very high quarters, of considerable _sinecures, i. e._ handsome salaries for purely nominal services--which he was earnestly and repeatedly reminded would at once afford him a liberal maintenance, and leave the whole of his time at his own disposal, to follow any pursuit or profession which he chose. Mr. Aubrey justly considered that it was very difficult, if not indeed impossible, for any honorable and high-minded man to be a sinecurist.--He who holds a sinecure, is, in my opinion, plundering the public; and how it can be more contrary to the dictates of honor and justice, deliberately to defraud an individual, than deliberately and audaciously to defraud that collection of individuals called the public, let casuists determine. As for Mr.

Aubrey, _he_ saw stretching before him the clear, straight, bright line of honor, and resolved to follow it, without faltering or wavering, come what come might. He resolved that, with the blessing of Providence, his own exertions should procure his bread, and, if such was the will of Heaven, lead him to distinction among mankind. He had formed this determination, and resolved to work it out--never to pause, nor give way, but to die in the struggle. Such a spirit must conquer whatever is opposed to it. What is _difficulty_? Only a word indicating the degree of strength requisite for accomplishing particular objects; a mere notice of the necessity for exertion; a bugbear to children and fools; an effective stimulus to men.

Mr. Gammon experienced little trouble in wheedling Mr. Quirk out of his purpose of enforcing payment, by Mr. Aubrey, of the balance of his account; demonstrating to the old gentleman the policy of waiting a little longer. He pledged himself, when the proper time came, to adopt measures of undoubted efficacy--a.s.suring his for some time sullen senior, in a low tone, that since his letter had reached Mr. Aubrey, circ.u.mstances had occurred which would render it in the last degree dangerous to press that gentleman upon the subject. What that was, which had happened, Mr. Gammon, as usual, refused to state. This was a considerable source of vexation to Mr. Quirk: but he had a far greater one, in the decisive and final overthrow of his fondly-cherished hopes concerning his daughter's alliance with t.i.tmouse. The paragraph in the _Aurora_, announcing Mr. t.i.tmouse's engagement to his brilliant relative, the Lady Cecilia, had emanated from the pen of Mr. Gammon; who had had several objects in view in giving early publicity to the event.

_Happening_(!) on the morning on which it appeared, to be glancing over the fascinating columns of the _Aurora_ at a public office, (the paper taken in at their own establishment being the _Morning Growl_,) he made a point of purchasing that day's _Aurora_; and on returning to Saffron Hill, he inquired whether Mr. Quirk were at home. Hearing that he was sitting alone, in his room--in rushed Mr. Gammon, breathless with surprise and haste, and plucking the newspaper out of his pocket,--"By Heavens, Mr. Quirk!"--he almost gasped as he doubled down the paper to the place where stood the announcement in question, and put it into Mr.

Quirk's hands,--"this young fellow's given you the slip, after all!

See!--The moment that my back is turned"----

Mr. Quirk having, with a little trepidation, adjusted his spectacles, perused the paragraph with a somewhat flushed face. He had, in fact, for some time had grievous misgivings on the subject of his chance of becoming the father-in-law of his distinguished client, Mr. t.i.tmouse; but now his faintest glimmering of hope was suddenly and completely extinguished, and the old gentleman felt quite desolate. He looked up, as soon as he had finished reading, and gazed ruefully at his indignant and sympathizing companion.