e 10th of August--the
lighter-hearted he grew! Titmouse resolved religiously to keep his own
counsel; to avoid even--at all events for the present--communicating
with Huckaback.

On the ensuing Sunday he rose very early, and took nearly twice as long
a time as usual to dress--by reason of his often falling into many
delicious and momentarily intoxicating reveries. By eleven o'clock he
might have been seen entering the gallery of St. Andrew's Church,
Holborn; where he considered that doubtless Mr. Gammon, who lived in the
neighborhood, might have a seat. He asked three or four pew-openers,
both below and above stairs, if they knew which was Mr. Gammon's
pew--Mr. Gammon of Thavies' Inn; not dreaming of presumptuously going to
the pew, but of sitting in some place which commanded a view of it. Mr.
Gammon, I need hardly say, was quite unknown there--no one had ever
heard of such a person; nevertheless Titmouse, (albeit a little galled
at being, in spite of his elegant appearance, slipped into a back seat
in the gallery,) remained to the close of the service--but his thoughts
wandered grievously the whole time. Having quitted the church in a
buoyant humor, he sauntered in the direction of Hyde Park. How soon
might he become, instead of a mere spectator as heretofore, a partaker
in its glories! The dawn of the day of fortune was on his long-benighted
soul; and he could hardly subdue his excited feelings. Having eaten
nothing but a couple of biscuits during the day, as the clock struck
seven he made his punctual appearance at Mr. Gammon's, with a pair of
span-new white kid gloves on; and somewhat flurried, was speedily
ushered, by a comfortable-looking elderly female servant, into Mr.
Gammon's room. Mr. Titmouse was dressed just as he had been when first
presented to the reader, sallying forth into Oxford Street. Mr. Gammon,
who was sitting reading the _Sunday Flash_ at a table on which stood a
couple of decanters, several wine-glasses, and one or two dishes of
fruit, rose and received his distinguished visitor with the most
delightful affability.

"I am most happy, Mr. Titmouse, to see you in this friendly way," said
he, shaking him cordially by the hand.

"Oh, don't name it, sir!" quoth Titmouse, rather indistinctly, and
hastily running his hand through his hair.

"I've nothing, you see, to offer you but a little fruit and a glass of
fair port or sherry. You see I am a very quiet man on Sundays!"

"Particular fond of _