"Particular fond of _them_, sir," replied Titmouse, endeavoring to clear his throat; for in spite of a strong effort to appear at his ease, he was unsuccessful; so that, when Gammon's keen eye glanced at the bedizened figure of his guest, a bitter smile passed over his face, without having been observed by Titmouse. "_This_," thought he, as his eye passed from the ring glittering on the little finger of the right hand, to the studs and breast-pin in the shirt-front, and thence to the guard-chain glaring entirely outside a damson-colored satin waistcoat, and the spotless white glove which yet glistened on the left hand--"This is the writer of the dismal epistle of the other day, announcing his desperation and destitution!" "Your health, Mr. Titmouse!--help yourself!" said Mr. Gammon, in a cheerful and cordial tone; Titmouse pouring out a glass only three-quarters full, raised it to his lips with a slightly tremulous hand, and returned Mr. Gammon's salutation. When had Titmouse tasted a glass of wine before? a reflection occurring not only to himself, but also to Gammon, to whom it was a circumstance that might be serviceable. "You see, Mr. Titmouse, mine's only a small bachelor's establishment, and I cannot put my old servant out of the way by having my friends to dinner"--[quite forgetting that the day before he had entertained at least six friends, including Mr. Frankpledge--but, the idea of going through a dinner _with Mr. Titmouse_!] And now, O inexperienced Titmouse! unacquainted with the potent qualities of wine, I warn you to be cautious how you drink many glasses, for you cannot calculate the effect which they will have upon you; and, indeed, methinks that with this man you have a game to play which will not admit of much wine being drunk. Be you, therefore, on your guard; for wine is like a strong serpent, who will creep unperceivedly into your empty head, and coil himself up therein, until at length he begins to move about--and all things are as nought to you! "Oh, sir, 'pon my honor, beg you won't name it--all one to me, sir!--Beautiful wine this, sir." "Pretty fair, I think--certainly rather old;--but what fruit will you take--raspberries or cherries?" "Why--a--I've so lately dined," replied Titmouse, alluding to the brace of biscuits on which he had luxuriated several hours before. He would have preferred the cherries, but did not feel quite at his ease how to dispose of the _stones_ nicely--gracefully--so he took a very few raspberries upon his plate, and ate them slowly, and with a modest and timid air. "Well, Mr. Titmouse," commenced Gammon, with an air of concern, "I was really much distressed by your last letter!" "Uncommon glad to hear it, sir--knew you would, sir--you're so kind-hearted;--all quite true, sir!" "I had no idea that you were reduced to such straits," said Gammon, in a sympathizing tone, but settling his eye involuntarily on the ring of Titmouse.