"Oh no, sir! No, sir!" exclaimed Titmouse, with eager anxiety. "This gent, Mr. Gammon, and I, have made it all up, gents! I'm not angry any more--not the least, 'pon my soul I'm not--and quite forgive you--and no mistake!" "_Angry!_--_Forgive!!_ Mr. Titmouse!" echoed Mr. Quirk, with an air sternly ironical. "We are under great obligations to you for your forbearance!" "Oh, come, gents!" said Titmouse, more and more disturbed, "I _was_ too warm, I dare say, and--and--I ask your pardon, all of you, gents! I won't say another word if you'll but buckle to business again--quite exactly in your own way--because you see"---- "It's growing _very_ late," said Mr. Quirk, coldly, and looking at his watch; "however, after what you have said, probably at some future time, when we've _leisure_ to look into the thing"---- Poor Titmouse was near dropping on his knees, in mingled agony and fright. "May I be allowed to say," interposed the bland voice of Mr. Gammon, anxiously addressing himself to Mr. Quirk, "that Mr. Titmouse a few minutes ago assured me, outside there, that if you, as the head of the firm, could only be persuaded to permit our house to take up his case again"---- "I did--I did indeed, gents! so help me----!" interrupted Mr. Titmouse, eagerly backing with an oath the ready lie of Mr. Gammon. Mr. Quirk, with a stern countenance, drew his hand across his chin musingly, and stood silently for a few moments, apparently irresolute. "Well," said he at length, but very coldly, "since that is so, probably we may be induced to resume our heavy labors in your behalf; and if you will favor us with a call to-morrow night, at the same hour, we may have, by that time, made up our minds as to the course we shall think fit to adopt." "Lord, sir, I'll be here as the clock strikes, and as meek as a mouse; and pray, have it all your own way for the future, gents--do!"--cried Titmouse, clasping his hands together on his breast. "Good-night, sir--good-night!" exclaimed the partners, stiffly--motioning him towards the door. "Good-night, gents!" said Titmouse, bowing very low, and feeling himself at the same time being--bowed _out_! As he passed out of the room, he cast a lingering look at their three frigid faces, as if they were angels sternly shutting him out from Paradise. What misery was his, as he walked slowly homeward, with much the same feelings (now that the fumes of the brandy had somewhat evaporated, and the reaction of excitement was coming on, aggravated by a recollection of the desperate check he had received) as those of a sick and troubled man, who, suddenly roused out of a delicious dream, drops into wretched reality, as it were out of a fairyland, which, with all its dear innumerable delights, is melting overhead into thin air--disappearing, _forever_!