a sudden _grunt_ of surprise and anger, to acknowledge the propriety of Gammon's remaining behind, to protect Titmouse from the designing Yahoo that had got hold of him; and solemnly pledged himself, as in the sight of Heaven, to use his utmost efforts to bring about, as speedily as possible, the two grand objects of Mr. Quirk's wishes. With this the old gentleman was fain to be satisfied; but entered the chaise which was to convey Miss Quirk and himself to Grilston, with as rueful a countenance as he had ever exhibited in his life. Mr. Titmouse was sufficiently recovered to be present at the departure of Miss Quirk, who regarded his interesting and languid looks with an eye of melting sympathy and affection. With half a smile and half a tear, she slipped into his hand, as he led her to the chaise, a little sprig of heart's ease, which he at once stuck into the button-hole of his coat. "'Pon my soul--must you go? Devilish sorry you can't stay to have seen some fun!--The old gent" (meaning her father) "don't quite seem to like it--he, he!" said he, in a low tone; then he handed her into the chaise, she dropping her veil to conceal the starting tear of mingled disappointment, and desire, and disgust, and they drove off, Titmouse kissing his hand to her as he stood upon the steps; and, as soon as they were out of sight, he exchanged a very significant smile with Mr. Gammon. The next day, Titmouse rose about ten o'clock, almost entirely recovered from his indisposition. Accompanied by Mr. Yahoo and Mr. Fitz-Snooks, with whom he was conversing as to the course he should take with reference to Sir Harkaway--whom, however, they advised him to treat with silent contempt, as he, Titmouse, was clearly in the wrong--he took a stroll about noon, down the path leading to the park gates. They all three had cigars in their mouths, Titmouse walking between them, as odious-looking a little puppy, sure, as man ever saw--puffing out his smoke slowly, and with half-closed eye, his right hand stuck into his coat-pocket, and resting on his hip. These three figures--Heaven save the mark!--were the new lord of Yatton and his select friends! "By jingo, surely here comes a parson," quoth Titmouse; "what the devil can he want here?"--'Twas Dr. Tatham, who slowly approached them, dressed in his Sunday suit, and leaning on his old-fashioned walking-stick, given him many, many years ago by the deceased Mrs. Aubrey. "Let's have some sport," said Fitz-Snooks. "We must look devilish serious--no grinning till the proper time," said Yahoo. "Hallo--you sir!" commenced Titmouse, "who are you?" Dr. Tatham took off his hat, bowed, and was passing on. "_Devilish_ cool, upon--my--soul--sir?" said Titmouse, stopping, and staring impudently at the worthy little doctor, who seemed taken quite by surprise. "My worthy old gentleman," said Yahoo, with mock respect, "are you aware who it was that asked you a question?" "I am not, sir," replied Dr. Tatham, quietly but resolutely.