Martin Chuzzlewit

by Charles Dickens

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  WHEREIN A CERTAIN GENTLEMAN BECOMES PARTICULAR IN HIS ATTENTIONS TO ACERTAIN LADY; AND MORE COMING EVENTS THAN ONE, CAST THEIR SHADOWS BEFORE

  The family were within two or three days of their departure from MrsTodgers's, and the commercial gentlemen were to a man despondent andnot to be comforted, because of the approaching separation, when Baileyjunior, at the jocund time of noon, presented himself before MissCharity Pecksniff, then sitting with her sister in the banquet chamber,hemming six new pocket-handkerchiefs for Mr Jinkins; and havingexpressed a hope, preliminary and pious, that he might be blest, gaveher in his pleasant way to understand that a visitor attended to payhis respects to her, and was at that moment waiting in the drawing-room.Perhaps this last announcement showed in a more striking point of viewthan many lengthened speeches could have done, the trustfulness andfaith of Bailey's nature; since he had, in fact, last seen the visitoron the door-mat, where, after signifying to him that he would do well togo upstairs, he had left him to the guidance of his own sagacity. Henceit was at least an even chance that the visitor was then wandering onthe roof of the house, or vainly seeking to extricate himself from themaze of bedrooms; Todgers's being precisely that kind of establishmentin which an unpiloted stranger is pretty sure to find himself in someplace where he least expects and least desires to be.

  'A gentleman for me!' cried Charity, pausing in her work; 'my gracious,Bailey!'

  'Ah!' said Bailey. 'It IS my gracious, an't it? Wouldn't I be graciousneither, not if I wos him!'

  The remark was rendered somewhat obscure in itself, by reason (as thereader may have observed) of a redundancy of negatives; but accompaniedby action expressive of a faithful couple walking arm-in-arm towardsa parochial church, mutually exchanging looks of love, it clearlysignified this youth's conviction that the caller's purpose was of anamorous tendency. Miss Charity affected to reprove so great a liberty;but she could not help smiling. He was a strange boy, to be sure. Therewas always some ground of probability and likelihood mingled with hisabsurd behaviour. That was the best of it!

  'But I don't know any gentlemen, Bailey,' said Miss Pecksniff. 'I thinkyou must have made a mistake.'

  Mr Bailey smiled at the extreme wildness of such a supposition, andregarded the young ladies with unimpaired affability.

  'My dear Merry,' said Charity, 'who CAN it be? Isn't it odd? I have agreat mind not to go to him really. So very strange, you know!'

  The younger sister plainly considered that this appeal had its origin inthe pride of being called upon and asked for; and that it was intendedas an assertion of superiority, and a retaliation upon her for havingcaptured the commercial gentlemen. Therefore, she replied, with greataffection and politeness, that it was, no doubt, very strange indeed;and that she was totally at a loss to conceive what the ridiculousperson unknown could mean by it.

  'Quite impossible to divine!' said Charity, with some sharpness, 'thoughstill, at the same time, you needn't be angry, my dear.'

  'Thank you,' retorted Merry, singing at her needle. 'I am quite aware ofthat, my love.'

  'I am afraid your head is turned, you silly thing,' said Cherry.

  'Do you know, my dear,' said Merry, with engaging candour, 'that I havebeen afraid of that, myself, all along! So much incense and nonsense,and all the rest of it, is enough to turn a stronger head than mine.What a relief it must be to you, my dear, to be so very comfortable inthat respect, and not to be worried by those odious men! How do you doit, Cherry?'

  This artless inquiry might have led to turbulent results, but for thestrong emotions of delight evinced by Bailey junior, whose relish in theturn the conversation had lately taken was so acute, that it impelledand forced him to the instantaneous performance of a dancing step,extremely difficult in its nature, and only to be achieved in amoment of ecstasy, which is commonly called The Frog's Hornpipe. Amanifestation so lively, brought to their immediate recollection thegreat virtuous precept, 'Keep up appearances whatever you do,' in whichthey had been educated. They forbore at once, and jointly signified toMr Bailey that if he should presume to practice that figure any more intheir presence, they would instantly acquaint Mrs Todgers with the fact,and would demand his condign punishment, at the hands of that lady. Theyoung gentleman having expressed the bitterness of his contrition byaffecting to wipe away scalding tears with his apron, and afterwardsfeigning to wring a vast amount of water from that garment, held thedoor open while Miss Charity passed out; and so that damsel went instate upstairs to receive her mysterious adorer.

  By some strange occurrence of favourable circumstances he had found outthe drawing-room, and was sitting there alone.

  'Ah, cousin!' he said. 'Here I am, you see. You thought I was lost, I'llbe bound. Well! how do you find yourself by this time?'

  Miss Charity replied that she was quite well, and gave Mr JonasChuzzlewit her hand.

  'That's right,' said Mr Jonas, 'and you've got over the fatigues of thejourney have you? I say. How's the other one?'

  'My sister is very well, I believe,' returned the young lady. 'I havenot heard her complain of any indisposition, sir. Perhaps you would liketo see her, and ask her yourself?'

  'No, no cousin!' said Mr Jonas, sitting down beside her on thewindow-seat. 'Don't be in a hurry. There's no occasion for that, youknow. What a cruel girl you are!'

  'It's impossible for YOU to know,' said Cherry, 'whether I am or not.'

  'Well, perhaps it is,' said Mr Jonas. 'I say--Did you think I was lost?You haven't told me that.'

  'I didn't think at all about it,' answered Cherry.

  'Didn't you though?' said Jonas, pondering upon this strange reply. 'Didthe other one?'

  'I am sure it's impossible for me to say what my sister may, or may nothave thought on such a subject,' cried Cherry. 'She never said anythingto me about it, one way or other.'

  'Didn't she laugh about it?' inquired Jonas.

  'No. She didn't even laugh about it,' answered Charity.

  'She's a terrible one to laugh, an't she?' said Jonas, lowering hisvoice.

  'She is very lively,' said Cherry.

  'Liveliness is a pleasant thing--when it don't lead to spending money.An't it?' asked Mr Jonas.

  'Very much so, indeed,' said Cherry, with a demureness of manner thatgave a very disinterested character to her assent.

  'Such liveliness as yours I mean, you know,' observed Mr Jonas, as henudged her with his elbow. 'I should have come to see you before, but Ididn't know where you was. How quick you hurried off, that morning!'

  'I was amenable to my papa's directions,' said Miss Charity.

  'I wish he had given me his direction,' returned her cousin, 'and thenI should have found you out before. Why, I shouldn't have found you evennow, if I hadn't met him in the street this morning. What a sleek, slychap he is! Just like a tomcat, an't he?'

  'I must trouble you to have the goodness to speak more respectfully ofmy papa, Mr Jonas,' said Charity. 'I can't allow such a tone as that,even in jest.'

  'Ecod, you may say what you like of MY father, then, and so I give youleave,' said Jonas. 'I think it's liquid aggravation that circulatesthrough his veins, and not regular blood. How old should you think myfather was, cousin?'

  'Old, no doubt,' replied Miss Charity; 'but a fine old gentleman.'

  'A fine old gentleman!' repeated Jonas, giving the crown of his hat anangry knock. 'Ah! It's time he was thinking of being drawn out a littlefiner too. Why, he's eighty!'

  'Is he, indeed?' said the young lady.

  'And ecod,' cried Jonas, 'now he's gone so far without giving in, Idon't see much to prevent his being ninety; no, nor even a hundred. Why,a man with any feeling ought to be ashamed of being eighty, let alonemore. Where's his religion, I should like to know, when he goes flyingin the face of the Bible like that? Threescore-and-ten's the mark, andno man with a conscience, and a proper sense of what's expected of him,has any business to live longer.'

  Is any one surprised at Mr Jonas making such
a reference to such abook for such a purpose? Does any one doubt the old saw, that the Devil(being a layman) quotes Scripture for his own ends? If he will take thetrouble to look about him, he may find a greater number of confirmationsof the fact in the occurrences of any single day, than the steam-gun candischarge balls in a minute.

  'But there's enough of my father,' said Jonas; 'it's of no use to goputting one's self out of the way by talking about HIM. I called to askyou to come and take a walk, cousin, and see some of the sights; andto come to our house afterwards, and have a bit of something. Pecksniffwill most likely look in in the evening, he says, and bring you home.See, here's his writing; I made him put it down this morning when hetold me he shouldn't be back before I came here; in case you wouldn'tbelieve me. There's nothing like proof, is there? Ha, ha! I say--you'llbring the other one, you know!'

  Miss Charity cast her eyes upon her father's autograph, which merelysaid--'Go, my children, with your cousin. Let there be union among uswhen it is possible;' and after enough of hesitation to impart a propervalue to her consent, withdrew to prepare her sister and herself for theexcursion. She soon returned, accompanied by Miss Mercy, who was byno means pleased to leave the brilliant triumphs of Todgers's for thesociety of Mr Jonas and his respected father.

  'Aha!' cried Jonas. 'There you are, are you?'

  'Yes, fright,' said Mercy, 'here I am; and I would much rather beanywhere else, I assure you.'

  'You don't mean that,' cried Mr Jonas. 'You can't, you know. It isn'tpossible.'

  'You can have what opinion you like, fright,' retorted Mercy. 'I amcontent to keep mine; and mine is that you are a very unpleasant,odious, disagreeable person.' Here she laughed heartily, and seemed toenjoy herself very much.

  'Oh, you're a sharp gal!' said Mr Jonas. 'She's a regular teaser, an'tshe, cousin?'

  Miss Charity replied in effect, that she was unable to say what thehabits and propensities of a regular teaser might be; and that even ifshe possessed such information, it would ill become her to admit theexistence of any creature with such an unceremonious name in her family;far less in the person of a beloved sister; 'whatever,' added Cherrywith an angry glance, 'whatever her real nature may be.'

  'Well, my dear,' said Merry, 'the only observation I have to make is,that if we don't go out at once, I shall certainly take my bonnet offagain, and stay at home.'

  This threat had the desired effect of preventing any fartheraltercation, for Mr Jonas immediately proposed an adjournment, andthe same being carried unanimously, they departed from the housestraightway. On the doorstep, Mr Jonas gave an arm to each cousin;which act of gallantry being observed by Bailey junior, from the garretwindow, was by him saluted with a loud and violent fit of coughing, towhich paroxysm he was still the victim when they turned the corner.

  Mr Jonas inquired in the first instance if they were good walkers andbeing answered, 'Yes,' submitted their pedestrian powers to a prettysevere test; for he showed them as many sights, in the way of bridges,churches, streets, outsides of theatres, and other free spectacles,in that one forenoon, as most people see in a twelvemonth. It wasobservable in this gentleman, that he had an insurmountable distaste tothe insides of buildings, and that he was perfectly acquainted withthe merits of all shows, in respect of which there was any charge foradmission, which it seemed were every one detestable, and of the verylowest grade of merit. He was so thoroughly possessed with this opinion,that when Miss Charity happened to mention the circumstance of theirhaving been twice or thrice to the theatre with Mr Jinkins and party, heinquired, as a matter of course, 'where the orders came from?' and beingtold that Mr Jinkins and party paid, was beyond description entertained,observing that 'they must be nice flats, certainly;' and often in thecourse of the walk, bursting out again into a perfect convulsion oflaughter at the surpassing silliness of those gentlemen, and (doubtless)at his own superior wisdom.

  When they had been out for some hours and were thoroughly fatigued, itbeing by that time twilight, Mr Jonas intimated that he would show themone of the best pieces of fun with which he was acquainted. This jokewas of a practical kind, and its humour lay in taking a hackney-coachto the extreme limits of possibility for a shilling. Happily it broughtthem to the place where Mr Jonas dwelt, or the young ladies might haverather missed the point and cream of the jest.

  The old-established firm of Anthony Chuzzlewit and Son, ManchesterWarehousemen, and so forth, had its place of business in a very narrowstreet somewhere behind the Post Office; where every house was in thebrightest summer morning very gloomy; and where light porters wateredthe pavement, each before his own employer's premises, in fantasticpatterns, in the dog-days; and where spruce gentlemen with their handsin the pockets of symmetrical trousers, were always to be seen inwarm weather, contemplating their undeniable boots in dusty warehousedoorways; which appeared to be the hardest work they did, except now andthen carrying pens behind their ears. A dim, dirty, smoky, tumble-down,rotten old house it was, as anybody would desire to see; but there thefirm of Anthony Chuzzlewit and Son transacted all their business andtheir pleasure too, such as it was; for neither the young man nor theold had any other residence, or any care or thought beyond its narrowlimits.

  Business, as may be readily supposed, was the main thing in thisestablishment; insomuch indeed that it shouldered comfort out ofdoors, and jostled the domestic arrangements at every turn. Thus in themiserable bedrooms there were files of moth-eaten letters hanging upagainst the walls; and linen rollers, and fragments of old patterns,and odds and ends of spoiled goods, strewed upon the ground; while themeagre bedsteads, washing-stands, and scraps of carpet, were huddledaway into corners as objects of secondary consideration, not to bethought of but as disagreeable necessities, furnishing no profit, andintruding on the one affair of life. The single sitting-room was onthe same principle, a chaos of boxes and old papers, and had morecounting-house stools in it than chairs; not to mention a great monsterof a desk straddling over the middle of the floor, and an iron safesunk into the wall above the fireplace. The solitary little table forpurposes of refection and social enjoyment, bore as fair a proportionto the desk and other business furniture, as the graces and harmlessrelaxations of life had ever done, in the persons of the old man and hisson, to their pursuit of wealth. It was meanly laid out now for dinner;and in a chair before the fire sat Anthony himself, who rose to greethis son and his fair cousins as they entered.

  An ancient proverb warns us that we should not expect to find old headsupon young shoulders; to which it may be added that we seldom meet withthat unnatural combination, but we feel a strong desire to knock themoff; merely from an inherent love we have of seeing things in theirright places. It is not improbable that many men, in no wise cholericby nature, felt this impulse rising up within them, when they first madethe acquaintance of Mr Jonas; but if they had known him more intimatelyin his own house, and had sat with him at his own board, it wouldassuredly have been paramount to all other considerations.

  'Well, ghost!' said Mr Jonas, dutifully addressing his parent by thattitle. 'Is dinner nearly ready?'

  'I should think it was,' rejoined the old man.

  'What's the good of that?' rejoined the son. 'I should think it was. Iwant to know.'

  'Ah! I don't know for certain,' said Anthony.

  'You don't know for certain,' rejoined his son in a lower tone. 'No. Youdon't know anything for certain, YOU don't. Give me your candle here. Iwant it for the gals.'

  Anthony handed him a battered old office candlestick, with which MrJonas preceded the young ladies to the nearest bedroom, where he leftthem to take off their shawls and bonnets; and returning, occupiedhimself in opening a bottle of wine, sharpening the carving-knife, andmuttering compliments to his father, until they and the dinner appearedtogether. The repast consisted of a hot leg of mutton with greens andpotatoes; and the dishes having been set upon the table by a slipshodold woman, they were left to enjoy it after their own manner.

  'Bachelor's Hall, you know, cousin,' said M
r Jonas to Charity. 'Isay--the other one will be having a laugh at this when she gets home,won't she? Here; you sit on the right side of me, and I'll have her uponthe left. Other one, will you come here?'

  'You're such a fright,' replied Mercy, 'that I know I shall have noappetite if I sit so near you; but I suppose I must.'

  'An't she lively?' whispered Mr Jonas to the elder sister, with hisfavourite elbow emphasis.

  'Oh I really don't know!' replied Miss Pecksniff, tartly. 'I am tired ofbeing asked such ridiculous questions.'

  'What's that precious old father of mine about now?' said Mr Jonas,seeing that his parent was travelling up and down the room instead oftaking his seat at table. 'What are you looking for?'

  'I've lost my glasses, Jonas,' said old Anthony.

  'Sit down without your glasses, can't you?' returned his son. 'You don'teat or drink out of 'em, I think; and where's that sleepy-headed oldChuffey got to! Now, stupid. Oh! you know your name, do you?'

  It would seem that he didn't, for he didn't come until the fathercalled. As he spoke, the door of a small glass office, which waspartitioned off from the rest of the room, was slowly opened, and alittle blear-eyed, weazen-faced, ancient man came creeping out. He wasof a remote fashion, and dusty, like the rest of the furniture; he wasdressed in a decayed suit of black; with breeches garnished at the kneeswith rusty wisps of ribbon, the very paupers of shoestrings; on thelower portion of his spindle legs were dingy worsted stockings of thesame colour. He looked as if he had been put away and forgotten half acentury before, and somebody had just found him in a lumber-closet.

  Such as he was, he came slowly creeping on towards the table, until atlast he crept into the vacant chair, from which, as his dim facultiesbecame conscious of the presence of strangers, and those strangersladies, he rose again, apparently intending to make a bow. But he satdown once more without having made it, and breathing on his shrivelledhands to warm them, remained with his poor blue nose immovable above hisplate, looking at nothing, with eyes that saw nothing, and a face thatmeant nothing. Take him in that state, and he was an embodiment ofnothing. Nothing else.

  'Our clerk,' said Mr Jonas, as host and master of the ceremonies: 'OldChuffey.'

  'Is he deaf?' inquired one of the young ladies.

  'No, I don't know that he is. He an't deaf, is he, father?'

  'I never heard him say he was,' replied the old man.

  'Blind?' inquired the young ladies.

  'N--no. I never understood that he was at all blind,' said Jonas,carelessly. 'You don't consider him so, do you, father?'

  'Certainly not,' replied Anthony.

  'What is he, then?'

  'Why, I'll tell you what he is,' said Mr Jonas, apart to the youngladies, 'he's precious old, for one thing; and I an't best pleased withhim for that, for I think my father must have caught it of him. He's astrange old chap, for another,' he added in a louder voice, 'and don'tunderstand any one hardly, but HIM!' He pointed to his honoured parentwith the carving-fork, in order that they might know whom he meant.

  'How very strange!' cried the sisters.

  'Why, you see,' said Mr Jonas, 'he's been addling his old brains withfigures and book-keeping all his life; and twenty years ago or so hewent and took a fever. All the time he was out of his head (which wasthree weeks) he never left off casting up; and he got to so many millionat last that I don't believe he's ever been quite right since. We don'tdo much business now though, and he an't a bad clerk.'

  'A very good one,' said Anthony.

  'Well! He an't a dear one at all events,' observed Jonas; 'and he earnshis salt, which is enough for our look-out. I was telling you that hehardly understands any one except my father; he always understands him,though, and wakes up quite wonderful. He's been used to his ways solong, you see! Why, I've seen him play whist, with my father for apartner; and a good rubber too; when he had no more notion what sort ofpeople he was playing against, than you have.'

  'Has he no appetite?' asked Merry.

  'Oh, yes,' said Jonas, plying his own knife and fork very fast. 'Heeats--when he's helped. But he don't care whether he waits a minute oran hour, as long as father's here; so when I'm at all sharp set, as I amto-day, I come to him after I've taken the edge off my own hunger, youknow. Now, Chuffey, stupid, are you ready?'

  Chuffey remained immovable.

  'Always a perverse old file, he was,' said Mr Jonas, coolly helpinghimself to another slice. 'Ask him, father.'

  'Are you ready for your dinner, Chuffey?' asked the old man

  'Yes, yes,' said Chuffey, lighting up into a sentient human creature atthe first sound of the voice, so that it was at once a curious and quitea moving sight to see him. 'Yes, yes. Quite ready, Mr Chuzzlewit. Quiteready, sir. All ready, all ready, all ready.' With that he stopped,smilingly, and listened for some further address; but being spoken tono more, the light forsook his face by little and little, until he wasnothing again.

  'He'll be very disagreeable, mind,' said Jonas, addressing his cousinsas he handed the old man's portion to his father. 'He always chokeshimself when it an't broth. Look at him, now! Did you ever see a horsewith such a wall-eyed expression as he's got? If it hadn't been for thejoke of it I wouldn't have let him come in to-day; but I thought he'damuse you.'

  The poor old subject of this humane speech was, happily for himself, asunconscious of its purport as of most other remarks that were made inhis presence. But the mutton being tough, and his gums weak, he quicklyverified the statement relative to his choking propensities, andunderwent so much in his attempts to dine, that Mr Jonas was infinitelyamused; protesting that he had seldom seen him better company in allhis life, and that he was enough to make a man split his sides withlaughing. Indeed, he went so far as to assure the sisters, that in thispoint of view he considered Chuffey superior to his own father; which,as he significantly added, was saying a great deal.

  It was strange enough that Anthony Chuzzlewit, himself so old a man,should take a pleasure in these gibings of his estimable son at theexpense of the poor shadow at their table. But he did, unquestionably;though not so much--to do him justice--with reference to their ancientclerk, as in exultation at the sharpness of Jonas. For the same reasonthat young man's coarse allusions, even to himself, filled him with astealthy glee; causing him to rub his hands and chuckle covertly, as ifhe said in his sleeve, 'I taught him. I trained him. This is the heir ofmy bringing-up. Sly, cunning, and covetous, he'll not squander my money.I worked for this; I hoped for this; it has been the great end and aimof my life.'

  What a noble end and aim it was to contemplate in the attainment truly!But there be some who manufacture idols after the fashion of themselves,and fail to worship them when they are made; charging their deformity onoutraged nature. Anthony was better than these at any rate.

  Chuffey boggled over his plate so long, that Mr Jonas, losing patience,took it from him at last with his own hands, and requested his fatherto signify to that venerable person that he had better 'peg away at hisbread;' which Anthony did.

  'Aye, aye!' cried the old man, brightening up as before, when this wascommunicated to him in the same voice, 'quite right, quite right. He'syour own son, Mr Chuzzlewit! Bless him for a sharp lad! Bless him, blesshim!'

  Mr Jonas considered this so particularly childish (perhaps with somereason), that he only laughed the more, and told his cousins that he wasafraid one of these fine days, Chuffey would be the death of him. Thecloth was then removed, and the bottle of wine set upon the table, fromwhich Mr Jonas filled the young ladies' glasses, calling on them not tospare it, as they might be certain there was plenty more where that camefrom. But he added with some haste after this sally that it was only hisjoke, and they wouldn't suppose him to be in earnest, he was sure.

  'I shall drink,' said Anthony, 'to Pecksniff. Your father, my dears. Aclever man, Pecksniff. A wary man! A hypocrite, though, eh? A hypocrite,girls, eh? Ha, ha, ha! Well, so he is. Now, among friends, he is. Idon't think the worse of him for that, unless it is that he
overdoes it.You may overdo anything, my darlings. You may overdo even hypocrisy. AskJonas!'

  'You can't overdo taking care of yourself,' observed that hopefulgentleman with his mouth full.

  'Do you hear that, my dears?' cried Anthony, quite enraptured. 'Wisdom,wisdom! A good exception, Jonas. No. It's not easy to overdo that.'

  'Except,' whispered Mr Jonas to his favourite cousin, 'except when onelives too long. Ha, ha! Tell the other one that--I say!'

  'Good gracious me!' said Cherry, in a petulant manner. 'You can tell heryourself, if you wish, can't you?'

  'She seems to make such game of one,' replied Mr Jonas.

  'Then why need you trouble yourself about her?' said Charity. 'I am sureshe doesn't trouble herself much about you.'

  'Don't she though?' asked Jonas.

  'Good gracious me, need I tell you that she don't?' returned the younglady.

  Mr Jonas made no verbal rejoinder, but he glanced at Mercy with an oddexpression in his face; and said THAT wouldn't break his heart, shemight depend upon it. Then he looked on Charity with even greater favourthan before, and besought her, as his polite manner was, to 'come alittle closer.'

  'There's another thing that's not easily overdone, father,' remarkedJonas, after a short silence.

  'What's that?' asked the father; grinning already in anticipation.

  'A bargain,' said the son. 'Here's the rule for bargains--"Do other men,for they would do you." That's the true business precept. All others arecounterfeits.'

  The delighted father applauded this sentiment to the echo; and was somuch tickled by it, that he was at the pains of imparting the same tohis ancient clerk, who rubbed his hands, nodded his palsied head, winkedhis watery eyes, and cried in his whistling tones, 'Good! good! Your ownson, Mr Chuzzlewit' with every feeble demonstration of delight that hewas capable of making. But this old man's enthusiasm had the redeemingquality of being felt in sympathy with the only creature to whom he waslinked by ties of long association, and by his present helplessness. Andif there had been anybody there, who cared to think about it, some dregsof a better nature unawakened, might perhaps have been descried throughthat very medium, melancholy though it was, yet lingering at the bottomof the worn-out cask called Chuffey.

  As matters stood, nobody thought or said anything upon the subject; soChuffey fell back into a dark corner on one side of the fireplace, wherehe always spent his evenings, and was neither seen nor heard again thatnight; save once, when a cup of tea was given him, in which he was seento soak his bread mechanically. There was no reason to suppose that hewent to sleep at these seasons, or that he heard, or saw, or felt, orthought. He remained, as it were, frozen up--if any term expressive ofsuch a vigorous process can be applied to him--until he was again thawedfor the moment by a word or touch from Anthony.

  Miss Charity made tea by desire of Mr Jonas, and felt and looked solike the lady of the house that she was in the prettiest confusionimaginable; the more so from Mr Jonas sitting close beside her, andwhispering a variety of admiring expressions in her ear. Miss Mercy, forher part, felt the entertainment of the evening to be so distinctlyand exclusively theirs, that she silently deplored the commercialgentlemen--at that moment, no doubt, wearying for her return--and yawnedover yesterday's newspaper. As to Anthony, he went to sleep outright, soJonas and Cherry had a clear stage to themselves as long as they choseto keep possession of it.

  When the tea-tray was taken away, as it was at last, Mr Jonas produced adirty pack of cards, and entertained the sisters with divers small featsof dexterity: whereof the main purpose of every one was, that you wereto decoy somebody into laying a wager with you that you couldn't do it;and were then immediately to win and pocket his money. Mr Jonasinformed them that these accomplishments were in high vogue in the mostintellectual circles, and that large amounts were constantly changinghands on such hazards. And it may be remarked that he fully believedthis; for there is a simplicity of cunning no less than a simplicityof innocence; and in all matters where a lively faith in knavery andmeanness was required as the ground-work of belief, Mr Jonas was one ofthe most credulous of men. His ignorance, which was stupendous, may betaken into account, if the reader pleases, separately.

  This fine young man had all the inclination to be a profligate of thefirst water, and only lacked the one good trait in the common catalogueof debauched vices--open-handedness--to be a notable vagabond. But therehis griping and penurious habits stepped in; and as one poison willsometimes neutralise another, when wholesome remedies would not avail,so he was restrained by a bad passion from quaffing his full measure ofevil, when virtue might have sought to hold him back in vain.

  By the time he had unfolded all the peddling schemes he knew upon thecards, it was growing late in the evening; and Mr Pecksniff not makinghis appearance, the young ladies expressed a wish to return home. Butthis, Mr Jonas, in his gallantry, would by no means allow, until theyhad partaken of some bread and cheese and porter; and even then he wasexcessively unwilling to allow them to depart; often beseeching MissCharity to come a little closer, or to stop a little longer, andpreferring many other complimentary petitions of that nature in his ownhospitable and earnest way. When all his efforts to detain them werefruitless, he put on his hat and greatcoat preparatory to escorting themto Todgers's; remarking that he knew they would rather walk thither thanride; and that for his part he was quite of their opinion.

  'Good night,' said Anthony. 'Good night; remember me to--ha, ha, ha!--toPecksniff. Take care of your cousin, my dears; beware of Jonas; he's adangerous fellow. Don't quarrel for him, in any case!'

  'Oh, the creature!' cried Mercy. 'The idea of quarrelling for HIM! Youmay take him, Cherry, my love, all to yourself. I make you a present ofmy share.'

  'What! I'm a sour grape, am I, cousin?' said Jonas.

  Miss Charity was more entertained by this repartee than one would havesupposed likely, considering its advanced age and simple character. Butin her sisterly affection she took Mr Jonas to task for leaning so veryhard upon a broken reed, and said that he must not be so cruel to poorMerry any more, or she (Charity) would positively be obliged to hatehim. Mercy, who really had her share of good humour, only retorted witha laugh; and they walked home in consequence without any angry passagesof words upon the way. Mr Jonas being in the middle, and having a cousinon each arm, sometimes squeezed the wrong one; so tightly too, as tocause her not a little inconvenience; but as he talked to Charity inwhispers the whole time, and paid her great attention, no doubt this wasan accidental circumstance. When they arrived at Todgers's, and the doorwas opened, Mercy broke hastily from them, and ran upstairs; but Charityand Jonas lingered on the steps talking together for more than fiveminutes; so, as Mrs Todgers observed next morning, to a third party, 'Itwas pretty clear what was going on THERE, and she was glad of it, for itreally was high time that Miss Pecksniff thought of settling.'

  And now the day was coming on, when that bright vision which had burston Todgers's so suddenly, and made a sunshine in the shady breast ofJinkins, was to be seen no more; when it was to be packed, like a brownpaper parcel, or a fish-basket, or an oyster barrel or a fat gentleman,or any other dull reality of life, in a stagecoach and carried down intothe country.

  'Never, my dear Miss Pecksniffs,' said Mrs Todgers, when they retiredto rest on the last night of their stay, 'never have I seen anestablishment so perfectly broken-hearted as mine is at this presentmoment of time. I don't believe the gentlemen will be the gentlemen theywere, or anything like it--no, not for weeks to come. You have a greatdeal to answer for, both of you.'

  They modestly disclaimed any wilful agency in this disastrous state ofthings, and regretted it very much.

  'Your pious pa, too,' said Mrs Todgers. 'There's a loss! My dear MissPecksniffs, your pa is a perfect missionary of peace and love.'

  Entertaining an uncertainty as to the particular kind of love supposedto be comprised in Mr Pecksniff's mission, the young ladies received thecompliment rather coldly.

  'If I d
ared,' said Mrs Todgers, perceiving this, 'to violate aconfidence which has been reposed in me, and to tell you why I must begof you to leave the little door between your room and mine open tonight,I think you would be interested. But I mustn't do it, for I promised MrJinkins faithfully, that I would be as silent as the tomb.'

  'Dear Mrs Todgers! What can you mean?'

  'Why, then, my sweet Miss Pecksniffs,' said the lady of the house; 'myown loves, if you will allow me the privilege of taking that freedom onthe eve of our separation, Mr Jinkins and the gentlemen have made upa little musical party among themselves, and DO intend, in the dead ofthis night, to perform a serenade upon the stairs outside the door. Icould have wished, I own,' said Mrs Todgers, with her usual foresight,'that it had been fixed to take place an hour or two earlier; becausewhen gentlemen sit up late they drink, and when they drink they're notso musical, perhaps, as when they don't. But this is the arrangement;and I know you will be gratified, my dear Miss Pecksniffs, by such amark of their attention.'

  The young ladies were at first so much excited by the news, that theyvowed they couldn't think of going to bed until the serenade was over.But half an hour of cool waiting so altered their opinion that they notonly went to bed, but fell asleep; and were, moreover, not ecstaticallycharmed to be awakened some time afterwards by certain dulcet strainsbreaking in upon the silent watches of the night.

  It was very affecting--very. Nothing more dismal could have been desiredby the most fastidious taste. The gentleman of a vocal turn was headmute, or chief mourner; Jinkins took the bass; and the rest tookanything they could get. The youngest gentleman blew his melancholy intoa flute. He didn't blow much out of it, but that was all the better.If the two Miss Pecksniffs and Mrs Todgers had perished by spontaneouscombustion, and the serenade had been in honour of their ashes, it wouldhave been impossible to surpass the unutterable despair expressed inthat one chorus, 'Go where glory waits thee!' It was a requiem, a dirge,a moan, a howl, a wail, a lament, an abstract of everything that issorrowful and hideous in sound. The flute of the youngest gentleman waswild and fitful. It came and went in gusts, like the wind. For a longtime together he seemed to have left off, and when it was quite settledby Mrs Todgers and the young ladies that, overcome by his feelings, hehad retired in tears, he unexpectedly turned up again at the very top ofthe tune, gasping for breath. He was a tremendous performer. There wasno knowing where to have him; and exactly when you thought he was doingnothing at all, then was he doing the very thing that ought to astonishyou most.

  There were several of these concerted pieces; perhaps two or three toomany, though that, as Mrs Todgers said, was a fault on the right side.But even then, even at that solemn moment, when the thrilling sounds maybe presumed to have penetrated into the very depths of his nature, if hehad any depths, Jinkins couldn't leave the youngest gentleman alone. Heasked him distinctly, before the second song began--as a personal favourtoo, mark the villain in that--not to play. Yes; he said so; not toplay. The breathing of the youngest gentleman was heard through thekey-hole of the door. He DIDN'T play. What vent was a flute for thepassions swelling up within his breast? A trombone would have been aworld too mild.

  The serenade approached its close. Its crowning interest was at hand.The gentleman of a literary turn had written a song on the departure ofthe ladies, and adapted it to an old tune. They all joined, exceptthe youngest gentleman in company, who, for the reasons aforesaid,maintained a fearful silence. The song (which was of a classical nature)invoked the oracle of Apollo, and demanded to know what would becomeof Todgers's when CHARITY and MERCY were banished from its walls. Theoracle delivered no opinion particularly worth remembering, accordingto the not infrequent practice of oracles from the earliest ages down tothe present time. In the absence of enlightenment on that subject, thestrain deserted it, and went on to show that the Miss Pecksniffs werenearly related to Rule Britannia, and that if Great Britain hadn't beenan island, there could have been no Miss Pecksniffs. And being now on anautical tack, it closed with this verse:

  'All hail to the vessel of Pecksniff the sire! And favouring breezes to fan; While Tritons flock round it, and proudly admire The architect, artist, and man!'

  As they presented this beautiful picture to the imagination, thegentlemen gradually withdrew to bed to give the music the effect ofdistance; and so it died away, and Todgers's was left to its repose.

  Mr Bailey reserved his vocal offering until the morning, when he puthis head into the room as the young ladies were kneeling before theirtrunks, packing up, and treated them to an imitation of the voice ofa young dog in trying circumstances; when that animal is supposed bypersons of a lively fancy, to relieve his feelings by calling for penand ink.

  'Well, young ladies,' said the youth, 'so you're a-going home, are you,worse luck?'

  'Yes, Bailey, we're going home,' returned Mercy.

  'An't you a-going to leave none of 'em a lock of your hair?' inquiredthe youth. 'It's real, an't it?'

  They laughed at this, and told him of course it was.

  'Oh, is it of course, though?' said Bailey. 'I know better than that.Hers an't. Why, I see it hanging up once, on that nail by the winder.Besides, I have gone behind her at dinner-time and pulled it; and shenever know'd. I say, young ladies, I'm a-going to leave. I an't a-goingto stand being called names by her, no longer.'

  Miss Mercy inquired what his plans for the future might be; in reply towhom Mr Bailey intimated that he thought of going either into top-boots,or into the army.

  'Into the army!' cried the young ladies, with a laugh.

  'Ah!' said Bailey, 'why not? There's a many drummers in the Tower. I'macquainted with 'em. Don't their country set a valley on 'em, mind you!Not at all!'

  'You'll be shot, I see,' observed Mercy.

  'Well!' cried Mr Bailey, 'wot if I am? There's something gamey in it,young ladies, an't there? I'd sooner be hit with a cannon-ball than arolling-pin, and she's always a-catching up something of that sort, andthrowing it at me, when the gentlemans' appetites is good. Wot,' saidMr Bailey, stung by the recollection of his wrongs, 'wot, if they DOconsume the per-vishuns. It an't MY fault, is it?'

  'Surely no one says it is,' said Mercy.

  'Don't they though?' retorted the youth. 'No. Yes. Ah! oh! No one mayn'tsay it is! but some one knows it is. But I an't a-going to have everyrise in prices wisited on me. I an't a-going to be killed becausethe markets is dear. I won't stop. And therefore,' added Mr Bailey,relenting into a smile, 'wotever you mean to give me, you'd better giveme all at once, becos if ever you come back agin, I shan't be here; andas to the other boy, HE won't deserve nothing, I know.'

  The young ladies, on behalf of Mr Pecksniff and themselves, actedon this thoughtful advice; and in consideration of their privatefriendship, presented Mr Bailey with a gratuity so liberal that he couldhardly do enough to show his gratitude; which found but an imperfectvent, during the remainder of the day, in divers secret slaps upon hispocket, and other such facetious pantomime. Nor was it confined to theseebullitions; for besides crushing a bandbox, with a bonnet in it, heseriously damaged Mr Pecksniff's luggage, by ardently hauling it downfrom the top of the house; and in short evinced, by every means in hispower, a lively sense of the favours he had received from that gentlemanand his family.

  Mr Pecksniff and Mr Jinkins came home to dinner arm-in-arm; for thelatter gentleman had made half-holiday on purpose; thus gaining animmense advantage over the youngest gentleman and the rest, whose time,as it perversely chanced, was all bespoke, until the evening. The bottleof wine was Mr Pecksniff's treat, and they were very sociable indeed;though full of lamentations on the necessity of parting. While they werein the midst of their enjoyment, old Anthony and his son were announced;much to the surprise of Mr Pecksniff, and greatly to the discomfiture ofJinkins.

  'Come to say good-bye, you see,' said Anthony, in a low voice, to MrPecksniff, as they took their seats apart at the table, while the restconversed among themselves. 'Where's the us
e of a division betweenyou and me? We are the two halves of a pair of scissors, when apart,Pecksniff; but together we are something. Eh?'

  'Unanimity, my good sir,' rejoined Mr Pecksniff, 'is always delightful.'

  'I don't know about that,' said the old man, 'for there are some peopleI would rather differ from than agree with. But you know my opinion ofyou.'

  Mr Pecksniff, still having 'hypocrite' in his mind, only replied by amotion of his head, which was something between an affirmative bow, anda negative shake.

  'Complimentary,' said Anthony. 'Complimentary, upon my word. It was aninvoluntary tribute to your abilities, even at the time; and it was nota time to suggest compliments either. But we agreed in the coach, youknow, that we quite understood each other.'

  'Oh, quite!' assented Mr Pecksniff, in a manner which implied that hehimself was misunderstood most cruelly, but would not complain.

  Anthony glanced at his son as he sat beside Miss Charity, and then at MrPecksniff, and then at his son again, very many times. It happened thatMr Pecksniff's glances took a similar direction; but when he becameaware of it, he first cast down his eyes, and then closed them; as if hewere determined that the old man should read nothing there.

  'Jonas is a shrewd lad,' said the old man.

  'He appears,' rejoined Mr Pecksniff in his most candid manner, 'to bevery shrewd.'

  'And careful,' said the old man.

  'And careful, I have no doubt,' returned Mr Pecksniff.

  'Look ye!' said Anthony in his ear. 'I think he is sweet upon youdaughter.'

  'Tut, my good sir,' said Mr Pecksniff, with his eyes still closed;'young people--young people--a kind of cousins, too--no more sweetnessthan is in that, sir.'

  'Why, there is very little sweetness in that, according to ourexperience,' returned Anthony. 'Isn't there a trifle more here?'

  'Impossible to say,' rejoined Mr Pecksniff. 'Quite impossible! Yousurprise me.'

  'Yes, I know that,' said the old man, drily. 'It may last; I mean thesweetness, not the surprise; and it may die off. Supposing it shouldlast, perhaps (you having feathered your nest pretty well, and I havingdone the same), we might have a mutual interest in the matter.'

  Mr Pecksniff, smiling gently, was about to speak, but Anthony stoppedhim.

  'I know what you are going to say. It's quite unnecessary. You havenever thought of this for a moment; and in a point so nearly affectingthe happiness of your dear child, you couldn't, as a tender father,express an opinion; and so forth. Yes, quite right. And like you! But itseems to me, my dear Pecksniff,' added Anthony, laying his hand uponhis sleeve, 'that if you and I kept up the joke of pretending not to seethis, one of us might possibly be placed in a position of disadvantage;and as I am very unwilling to be that party myself, you will excuse mytaking the liberty of putting the matter beyond a doubt thus early; andhaving it distinctly understood, as it is now, that we do see it, and doknow it. Thank you for your attention. We are now upon an equal footing;which is agreeable to us both, I am sure.'

  He rose as he spoke; and giving Mr Pecksniff a nod of intelligence,moved away from him to where the young people were sitting; leaving thatgood man somewhat puzzled and discomfited by such very plain dealing,and not quite free from a sense of having been foiled in the exercise ofhis familiar weapons.

  But the night-coach had a punctual character, and it was time to joinit at the office; which was so near at hand that they had already senttheir luggage and arranged to walk. Thither the whole party repaired,therefore, after no more delay than sufficed for the equipment of theMiss Pecksniffs and Mrs Todgers. They found the coach already at itsstarting-place, and the horses in; there, too, were a large majorityof the commercial gentlemen, including the youngest, who was visiblyagitated, and in a state of deep mental dejection.

  Nothing could equal the distress of Mrs Todgers in parting from theyoung ladies, except the strong emotions with which she bade adieu to MrPecksniff. Never surely was a pocket-handkerchief taken in and out ofa flat reticule so often as Mrs Todgers's was, as she stood upon thepavement by the coach-door supported on either side by a commercialgentleman; and by the sight of the coach-lamps caught such briefsnatches and glimpses of the good man's face, as the constantinterposition of Mr Jinkins allowed. For Jinkins, to the last theyoungest gentleman's rock a-head in life, stood upon the coachsteptalking to the ladies. Upon the other step was Mr Jonas, who maintainedthat position in right of his cousinship; whereas the youngestgentleman, who had been first upon the ground, was deep in thebooking-office among the black and red placards, and the portraits offast coaches, where he was ignominiously harassed by porters, and had tocontend and strive perpetually with heavy baggage. This falseposition, combined with his nervous excitement, brought about the veryconsummation and catastrophe of his miseries; for when in the moment ofparting he aimed a flower, a hothouse flower that had cost money, at thefair hand of Mercy, it reached, instead, the coachman on the box, whothanked him kindly, and stuck it in his buttonhole.

  They were off now; and Todgers's was alone again. The two young ladies,leaning back in their separate corners, resigned themselves to theirown regretful thoughts. But Mr Pecksniff, dismissing all ephemeralconsiderations of social pleasure and enjoyment, concentrated hismeditations on the one great virtuous purpose before him, of castingout that ingrate and deceiver, whose presence yet troubled his domestichearth, and was a sacrilege upon the altars of his household gods.