"No—but is it all true?—honor!" inquired Titmouse, in a very subdued voice.
"As God is my witness!" replied Gammon.
"Well," exclaimed Titmouse, after a prodigious sigh, "then at any rate, you're in for it with me; you said just now you'd done it all. Aha! I recollect, Mr. Gammon! I should no more have thought of it myself—Lord! than—what d'ye say to that, Mr. Gammon?"
"Alas, sir! it will not avail you," replied Gammon, with a fearful smile; "for I never made the dreadful discovery of your illegitimacy till it was too late—till at least two months after I had put you (whom I believed the true heir) into possession of Yatton!"
"Ah—I don't know—but—why didn't you tell Lord Dreddlington? Why did you let me marry Lady Cicely? By Jove, but it's you he'll kill," quoth Titmouse, eagerly.
"Yes!—Alas! I ought to have done so," replied Mr. Gammon, with a profound sigh—adding, abstractedly, "It may not be too late to make his Lordship some amends. I may save his title from degradation. Lord Drelincourt"——
"O Lord!" ejaculated Titmouse, involuntarily, and almost unconsciously, staring stupidly at Gammon, who continued with a renewed sigh—"Yes, I ought to have told his Lordship—but I own—I was led away by feelings of pity—of affection for YOU—and, alas! is this the return?" He spoke this with a look and in a tone of sorrowful reproach.
"Well, you shouldn't have come down on one so suddenly—all at once—how can a man—eh? Such horrid news!"
"It has cost me, sir, infinitely greater pain to tell you, than it has cost you to hear it!"