them_, sir," replied Titmouse, endeavoring to clear
his throat; for in spite of a strong effort to appear at his ease, he
was unsuccessful; so that, when Gammon's keen eye glanced at the
bedizened figure of his guest, a bitter smile passed over his face,
without having been observed by Titmouse. "_This_," thought he, as his
eye passed from the ring glittering on the little finger of the right
hand, to the studs and breast-pin in the shirt-front, and thence to the
guard-chain glaring entirely outside a damson-colored satin waistcoat,
and the spotless white glove which yet glistened on the left hand--"This
is the writer of the dismal epistle of the other day, announcing his
desperation and destitution!"

"Your health, Mr. Titmouse!--help yourself!" said Mr. Gammon, in a
cheerful and cordial tone; Titmouse pouring out a glass only
three-quarters full, raised it to his lips with a slightly tremulous
hand, and returned Mr. Gammon's salutation. When had Titmouse tasted a
glass of wine before? a reflection occurring not only to himself, but
also to Gammon, to whom it was a circumstance that might be serviceable.

"You see, Mr. Titmouse, mine's only a small bachelor's establishment,
and I cannot put my old servant out of the way by having my friends to
dinner"--[quite forgetting that the day before he had entertained at
least six friends, including Mr. Frankpledge--but, the idea of going
through a dinner _with Mr. Titmouse_!]

And now, O inexperienced Titmouse! unacquainted with the potent
qualities of wine, I warn you to be cautious how you drink many glasses,
for you cannot calculate the effect which they will have upon you; and,
indeed, methinks that with this man you have a game to play which will
not admit of much wine being drunk. Be you, therefore, on your guard;
for wine is like a strong serpent, who will creep unperceivedly into
your empty head, and coil himself up therein, until at length he begins
to move about--and all things are as nought to you!

"Oh, sir, 'pon my honor, beg you won't name it--all one to me,
sir!--Beautiful wine this, sir."

"Pretty fair, I think--certainly rather old;--but what fruit will you
take--raspberries or cherries?"

"Why--a--I've so lately dined," replied Titmouse, alluding to the brace
of biscuits on which he had luxuriated several hours before. He would
have preferred the cherries, but did not feel quite at his ease how to
dispose of the _stones_ nicely--gracefully--so he took a