had such wonderful ancestors; not, at the moment, adverting to the circumstance that he was himself descended from the very same ancestors, and had as rich blood in him as the earl and Lady Cecilia--when a servant entered and informed him in a whisper that "his carriage had arrived." He considered that etiquette required him to depart immediately. "Beg your pardon; but if ever you should come down to my estate in the country, shall be most uncommon proud to see your Ladyship." "I beg your pardon; you are mistaken, sir," interrupted Miss Macspleuchan, hastily, and blushing scarlet; the fact being that Titmouse had not caught her name on its having been once or twice pronounced by Lady Cecilia; and very naturally concluded that she also must be a lady of rank. Titmouse was, however, so occupied with his efforts to make a graceful exit, that he did not catch the explanation of his mistake; and, bowing almost down to the ground, reached the landing, where the tall servant, with a very easy grace, gave him his hat and cane, and preceded him down-stairs. As he descended, he felt in his pockets for some loose silver, and gave several shillings between the servants who stood in the hall to witness his departure; after which, one of them having opened the door and gently let down the steps of the glass-coach, Titmouse popped into it. "Home, sir?" inquired the servant, as he closed the door. "The Cabbage-Stalk Hotel, Covent Garden," replied Titmouse, with an affected drawl. His answer was communicated to the coachman, who thereupon addressed a sharp argument to the brace of meek and skinny horses, standing with downcast heads before him--which they lifted up--then they got into motion--and away rumbled the glass-coach. As soon as its distinguished inmate had become calm enough to reflect upon the events of the evening, he came to the conclusion that the Earl of Dreddlington was a very great man indeed; the Lady Cecilia very beautiful, but rather proud; and Miss Macspleuchan (Lady Somebody, as he supposed) one of the most interesting ladies whom he had ever met with; that there was something _uncommon_ pleasing about her: in short, he felt a sort of grateful attachment towards her; but how long it would have lasted after his hearing that she was only a plain miss, and a poor relation, I leave the acute reader to conjecture. CHAPTER VI. Mr. Gammon was with Titmouse about half-past nine o'clock the next morning, not a little anxious to hear how that young gentleman had got on over-night; but met with a totally different reception from any that he had before experienced.