"Well, Mr. Titmouse"—commenced the earl, blandly, stepping at once, with graceful boldness, out of the mist, confusion, and perplexity which prevailed among his Lordship's ideas, few as they were—"what are you thinking about?—For you seem to be thinking!" and a courteous little laugh accompanied the last words.
"'Pon—'pon my life—I—I—beg your Lordship's pardon—but it's—monstrous odd your Lordship should have known it"—stammered Titmouse; and his face suddenly grew of a scarlet color.
"Sir," replied the earl, with greater skill than he had ever evinced in his whole life before—(such is the effect of any one's being intensely in earnest)—"it is not at all odd, when it happens that—the probability is—that—we are, perhaps—mind, sir, I mean possibly—thinking about the same thing!" Titmouse grew more and more confused, gazing in silence, with a strange simpering stare, at his noble companion, who, with his hands joined behind him, was walking slowly along with Titmouse.
"Sir," continued the earl, in a low tone—breaking a very awkward pause—"it gives me sincere satisfaction to assure you, that I can fully appreciate the delicate embarrassment which I perceive you are now"——
"My Lord—your Lordship's most uncommon polite"—quoth Titmouse, suddenly taking off his hat, and bowing very low. The earl moved his hat also, and slightly bowed, with a proudly gratified air; and again occurred a pause, which was broken by Titmouse.
"Then your Lordship thinks—a—a—that—it will do?" he inquired very sheepishly, but anxiously.
"Sir, I have the honor to assure you, that as far as I am concerned, I see no obst"——
"Yes—but excuse me, my Lord—your Lordship sees—I mean—my Lord, your Lordship sees——doesn't your Lordship?"
"Sir, I think—nay, I believe I do"—interrupted the earl, wishing to relieve the evident embarrassment of his companion—"but—I see—nothing that should—alarm you."