you Mr. Titmouse?"

"Yes," he replied, more faintly than before.

"Oh--I have brought you, sir, a letter from Mr. Gammon, of the firm of
Quirk, Gammon, and Snap, solicitors, Saffron Hill," said the stranger,
unconscious that his words shot a flash of light into a little abyss of
grief and despair before him. "He begged me to give this letter into
your own hands, and said he hoped you'd send him an answer by the first
morning's post."

"Yes--oh--I see--certainly--to be sure--with pleasure--how is Mr.
Gammon?--uncommon kind of him--very humble respects to him--take care to
answer it," stammered Titmouse, in a breath, hardly knowing whether he
were standing on his head or his heels, and not quite certain where he
was.

"Good-evening, sir," replied the stranger, evidently a little surprised
at Titmouse's manner, and withdrew. Titmouse shut his door. With
prodigious trepidation of hand and flutter of spirits, he opened the
letter--an enclosure meeting his eyes in the shape of a bank-note.

"Oh Lord!" he murmured, turning white as the sheet of paper he held.
Then the letter dropped from his hand, and he stood as if stupefied for
some moments; but presently rapture darted through him; a five-pound
bank-note was in his hand, and it had been enclosed in the following
letter:--

"_35, Thavies' Inn, 29th July 18--._

"MY DEAR MR. TITMOUSE,

"Your last note addressed to our firm, has given me the greatest
pain, and I hasten, on my return from the country, to forward you
the enclosed trifle, out of my own personal resources--and I
sincerely hope it will be of temporary service to you. May I beg
the favor of your company on Sunday evening next, at seven o'clock,
to take a glass of wine with me? I shall be quite alone and
disengaged, and may have it in my power to make you some important
communications, concerning matters in which, I assure you, I feel a
very deep interest on your account. Begging the favor of an early
answer to-morrow morning, I trust you will believe me, ever, my
dear sir, your most faithful humble servant,
"OILY GAMMON.

"TITTLEBAT TITMOUSE, ESQ."

The first balmy drop of the long-expected golden shower had at length
fallen upon the panting Titmouse. How polite--nay, how affectionate and
respectful--was the note of Mr. Gammon! and, for the first tim