ted
expression of his features, she really regarded him with something akin
to interest; and, though she might hardly have owned it even to herself,
his expected good fortune invested him with a sort of subdued radiance.
_Ten thousand a-year_!--Miss Quirk's heart fluttered! By the time that
he was well enough to take his departure, she had, at his request, read
over to him nearly half of that truly interesting work,--the Newgate
Calendar; she had sung to him and played to him whatever he asked her;
and, in short, she felt that if she could but be certain that he would
gain his great lawsuit, and step into ten thousand a-year, she could
_love_ him. She insisted, on the day of his quitting Alibi House, that
he should write in her album; and he very readily complied. It was
nearly ten minutes before he could get a pen to suit him. At length he
succeeded, and left the following interesting memento of himself in the
very centre of a fresh page:--

"Tittlebat Titmouse Is My name,
England Is My Nation,
London Is My dwelling-Place,
And Christ Is My Salvation.
"TITTLEBAT TITMOUSE,
"halibi lodge."

Miss Quirk turned pale with astonishment and vexation on seeing this
elegant and striking addition to her album. Titmouse, on the contrary,
looked at it with no little pride; for having had a capital pen, and his
heart being in his task, he had produced what he conceived to be a very
superior specimen of penmanship: in fact, the signature was by far the
best he had ever written. When he had gone, Miss Quirk was twenty times
on the point of tearing out the leaf which had been so dismally
disfigured; but on her father coming home in the evening, he laughed
heartily--"and as to tearing it out," said he, "let us first see which
way the verdict goes!"

Titmouse became, after this, a pretty frequent visitor at Alibi House;
growing more and more attached to Miss Quirk, who, however, conducted
herself towards him with much judgment. His inscription on her album had
done a vast deal towards cooling down the ardor with which she had been
disposed to regard even the future owner of ten thousand a-year. Poor
Snap seemed to have lost all chance, being treated with greater coldness
by Miss Quirk on every succeeding visit to Alibi House. At this he was
sorely discomfited; for she would have whatever money her father might
die possessed of, besides a commanding interest in the partne