the topic of the recent change of ownership which Yatton had undergone; and in speaking of the manner in which Mr. Titmouse had borne his sudden prosperity--"Yes, my Lord," continued Gammon, with apparent carelessness, "I recollect making some such observation to him, and he replied, 'Very true, _Mr. Gammon_'"--Gammon finished his sentence calmly; but he perceived that the earl had withdrawn himself into his earldom. He had given a very slight start; a little color had mounted into his cheek; a sensible hauteur had been assumed, and by the time that Gammon had done speaking, the space between them had been--as Lord Dreddlington imagined, unobservedly--increased by two or three inches. Gammon was a _man_--an able and a proud man--and he felt galled; but, "let it pass," he presently reflected--"let it pass, you pompous old idiot; I will one day repay it with interest." The earl separated from him, Gammon regarding him as a gaudy craft sheering off for a while, but doomed to be soon sunk. Mr. Tuft, (who was the son of a respectable retired tobacconist,) having ascertained that Gammon was only Mr. Titmouse's attorney, conducted himself for a while as though there were no such person in the room; but being a quick observer, and catching once or twice the faint sarcastic smile with which Gammon's eye was settled on him, he experienced a very galling and uneasy consciousness of his presence. The marquis's superior tact and perception of character led him to treat Gammon very differently--with a deference and anxiety to please him, which Gammon understood thoroughly--in fact, he and the marquis had many qualities in common, but Gammon was the man of _power_. During dinner he sat beside Miss Macspleuchan, and was almost the only person who spoke to her--in fact, he said but little to any one else. He took wine with Titmouse with a marked, but guarded, air of _confidence_. The marquis took wine with Gammon with an air of studied courtesy. The earl's attention was almost entirely engrossed by Mr. Tuft, who sat next to him, chattering in his ear like a little magpie perched upon his shoulder. The marquis sat next to the Lady Cecilia; for whose amusement, as far as his cautious tact would allow him, he from time to time drew out their little host. At length, in answer to a question by the marquis, the earl let fall some pompous observation, from which the marquis, who was getting very tired of the vapid monotony which pervaded the table, ventured to differ pretty decisively. Tuft instantly sided with the earl, and spoke with infinite fluency for some minutes: Gammon saw in a moment that he was an absurd pretender; and watching his opportunity, for the first time that he had interchanged a syllable with him, with one word exposing a palpable historical blunder of poor Tuft's, overthrew him as completely as a bullet from a crossbow dislodges a tomtit from the wall on which he is hopping about, unconscious of his danger.