"That is at present no concern--nay, it never will be any concern of yours or mine. Surely it is enough for you, that you are enjoying the rank and fortune belonging to some one else? Good gracious! I can't help reminding you--fancy the natural son of a cobbler--figuring away as the Right Honorable Lord Drelincourt--while all the while, the real Lord Drelincourt is--nay, at this moment, pining, poor soul! in poverty and obscurity." "Well--I dare say he's used to it, so it can't hurt him much! But I've been thinking, Mr. Gammon, couldn't we get him--pressed? or enlisted into the army?--He's a deuced deal better out of the way, you know, for both of us!" "Sir!" interrupted Gammon, speaking very seriously, and even with a melancholy and apprehensive air--"leave the future to _me_. I have made all requisite arrangements, and am myself implicated already to a fearful extent on your behalf. The only person on earth, besides myself, who can disturb my arrangements, is yourself." Here a gentle tapping was heard at the door. "Be off!" shouted Titmouse, with angry impatience; but Mr. Gammon, who was anxious himself to be gone, stepped to the door, and opening it, a servant entered--a tall graceful footman, with powdered hair, shoulder-knot, and blue and yellow livery--and who obsequiously intimated to Mr. Titmouse, that Signor Sol-fa had been in attendance for at least half-an-hour. "A--a--I don't sing to-day--let him come to-morrow," said Titmouse, with attempted ease, and the servant withdrew. "Farewell, Mr. Titmouse--I have a most important engagement awaiting me at the office--so I must take my leave. Will you execute the necessary documents so soon as they are ready? I will cause them to be prepared immediately." "Oh, yes!"--and he added in a lower tone--"take care, Mr. Gammon, that no one knows _why_!--eh, you know?"