"What! and can _he_ do anything, too? I thought it was only you."--The little fool had brought a glimpse of color into Gammon's cheek--but Titmouse's volatility quickly relieved his tripping Prospero. "By the way--'pon my life--sha'n't I have to pay it all back again! There's a go! I hadn't thought of that." "I shall first try to get it out of Mr. Aubrey," said Gammon, "and then out of another friend of yours. In the mean while we must not drop the Tag-rags just yet." They then got into a long and confidential conversation together; in the course of which, Titmouse happened to pop out a little secret of his, which till then he had managed to keep from Gammon, and which occasioned that gentleman a great and sudden inward confusion--one which it was odd that so keen an observer as Titmouse did not perceive indications of in the countenance of Gammon; viz. his--Titmouse's--fervent and disinterested love for Miss Aubrey. While he was rattling on with eager volubility upon this topic, Gammon, after casting about a little in his mind, as to how he should deal with this interesting discovery, resolved for the present to humor the notion, and got out of Titmouse a full and particular account of his original "_smite_," as that gentleman called his passion for Miss Aubrey--the indelible impression she had made on his heart--the letter which he had addressed to her--[here Gammon's vivid fancy portrayed to him the sort of composition which must have reached Miss Aubrey, and he nearly burst into a gentle fit of laughter]--and, with a strange candor, or rather, to do him justice, with that frank simplicity which is characteristic of noble natures--he at length described his unlucky encounter with Miss Aubrey and her maid, in the winter; whereat Gammon felt a sort of sudden inward spasm, which excited a certain twinging sensation in his right toe--but it passed away--'twas after all, only a little juvenile indiscretion of Titmouse's; but Gammon, with rather a serious air, assured Titmouse that he had probably greatly endangered his prospect with Miss Aubrey. "Eh? Why, devil take it! a'n't I going to offer to her, though she's got nothing?" interrupted Titmouse, with astonishment. "True!--Ah, I had lost sight of that. Well, if you will pledge yourself to address no more letters to her, nor take any steps to see her, without first communicating with me--I think I can promise--hem!" he looked archly at Titmouse. "She's a most _uncommon_ lovely gal"--he simpered sheepishly. The fact was that Gammon had conceived quite another scheme for Titmouse--wholly inconsistent with his pure, ardent, and enlightened attachment to Miss Aubrey; 'twas undoubtedly rather a bold and ambitious one, but Gammon did not despair; for he had that confidence in himself, and in his knowledge of human nature, which always supported him in the most arduous and apparently hopeless undertakings.