'em laughing at it, to be sure! What makes people give such
queer names? Would you like to read it here, sir?--you're welcome."

"No, thank you, ma'am--it's of not the _least_ consequence," he replied,
with a desperate air; and tossing it with attempted carelessness into
his hat, which he put on his head, he very civilly wished her
good-night, and departed--very nearly inclined to sickness, or
faintness, or something of the sort, which the fresh air might perhaps
dispel. He quickly espied a lamp at a corner, which promised to afford
him an uninterrupted opportunity of inspecting his letter. He took it
out of his hat. It was addressed--simply, "Mr. Titmouse, _Cocking_
Court, Oxford Street," (which accounted, perhaps, for the clerk's having
been unable to find it;) and having been opened with trembling
eagerness, thus it read:--

"Messrs. Quirk, Gammon, and Snap, present their compliments to Mr.
Titmouse, and are anxious to save him the trouble of his intended
visit this evening.

"They exceedingly regret that obstacles (which it is to be hoped,
however, may not prove _ultimately_ insurmountable) exist in the
way of their prosecuting their intended inquiries on behalf of Mr.
Titmouse.

"Since their last night's interview with him, circumstances, which
they could not have foreseen, and over which they have no control,
have occurred, which render it unnecessary for Mr. T. to give
himself any more anxiety in the affair--at least, not until he
shall have heard from Messrs. Q. G. and S.

"If anything of importance _should_ hereafter transpire, it is not
improbable that Mr. T. may hear from them.

"They were favored, this afternoon, with a visit from Mr. T.'s
friend--a Mr. Hucklebottom."

"_Saffron Hill, Wednesday Evening, 12th July 18--._"

When poor Titmouse had finished reading over this vague, frigid, and
disheartening note a second time, a convulsive sob or two pierced his
bosom, indicative of its being indeed swollen with sorrow; and at
length, overcome by his feelings, he cried bitterly--not checked even by
the occasional exclamations of one or two passers-by. He could not at
all control himself. He felt as if he could have almost relieved
himself, by banging his head against the wall! A tumultuous feeling of
mingled grief and despair prevented his thoughts, for a long while, from
settling on any one idea or object. At length,