Titmouse. He believed that
poor Tittlebat was an orphan, unhappy soul! alone in the wide
world--_now_ he would become the prey of designing strangers and
adventurers. Tag-rag did not like the appearance of Gammon. No doubt
that person would try and ingratiate himself as much as possible with
Titmouse! Then Titmouse was remarkably good-looking. "I wonder what
Tabby will think of him when she sees him!" How anxious Tittlebat must
be to see her--_his_ daughter! How could Tag-rag make Tittlebat's stay
at his premises (for he could not bring himself to believe that on the
morrow he could not set all right, and disavow the abominable conduct of
Lutestring) agreeable and delightful? He would discharge the first of
his young men that did not show Titmouse proper respect.--What low
lodgings poor Tittlebat lived in!--Why could he not take up his quarters
at Satin Lodge? They always had a nice spare bedroom. Ah! _that_ would
be a stroke! How Tabby could endear herself to him! What a number of
things Mrs. Tag-rag could do to make him comfortable!

About seven o'clock Tag-rag quitted his premises in Oxford Street, for
his country house; and, occupied with these and similar delightful and
anxious thoughts and speculations, hurried along Oxford Street on his
way to the Clapham stage, without thinking of his umbrella, though it
rained fast. When he had taken his place on the coach-box, beside old
Crack, (as he had done almost every night for years,) he was so
unusually silent that Crack naturally thought his best passenger was
going to become bankrupt, or compound with his creditors, or do
something in that line, shortly. Mr. Tag-rag could hardly keep his
temper at the slow pace old Crack was driving at--just when Mr. Tag-rag
would have wished to gallop the whole way. Never had he descended with
so much briskness, as when the coach at length drew up before the little
green gate, which opened on the tidy little gravel walk, which led up to
the little green wooden porch, which sheltered the little door which
admitted you into little Satin Lodge. As Tag-rag stood for a moment
wiping his wet shoes upon the mat, he could not help observing, for the
first time, by the inward light of ten thousand a-year, how _uncommon_
narrow the passage was; and thinking that Satin Lodge would never _do_,
when he should be the father-in-law of a man worth ten thousand
a-year--but he could easily let that house then, and take a large one.
As he hung his hat