CHAPTER TWENTY
IS A CHAPTER OF LOVE
'Pecksniff,' said Jonas, taking off his hat, to see that the blackcrape band was all right; and finding that it was, putting it on again,complacently; 'what do you mean to give your daughters when they marry?'
'My dear Mr Jonas,' cried the affectionate parent, with an ingenuoussmile, 'what a very singular inquiry!'
'Now, don't you mind whether it's a singular inquiry or a plural one,'retorted Jonas, eyeing Mr Pecksniff with no great favour, 'but answerit, or let it alone. One or the other.'
'Hum! The question, my dear friend,' said Mr Pecksniff, laying his handtenderly upon his kinsman's knee, 'is involved with many considerations.What would I give them? Eh?'
'Ah! what would you give 'em?' repeated Jonas.
'Why, that, 'said Mr Pecksniff, 'would naturally depend in a greatmeasure upon the kind of husbands they might choose, my dear youngfriend.'
Mr Jonas was evidently disconcerted, and at a loss how to proceed.It was a good answer. It seemed a deep one, but such is the wisdom ofsimplicity!'
'My standard for the merits I would require in a son-in-law,' said MrPecksniff, after a short silence, 'is a high one. Forgive me, my dear MrJonas,' he added, greatly moved, 'if I say that you have spoiled me, andmade it a fanciful one; an imaginative one; a prismatically tinged one,if I may be permitted to call it so.'
'What do you mean by that?' growled Jonas, looking at him with increaseddisfavour.
'Indeed, my dear friend,' said Mr Pecksniff, 'you may well inquire.The heart is not always a royal mint, with patent machinery to work itsmetal into current coin. Sometimes it throws it out in strange forms,not easily recognized as coin at all. But it is sterling gold. It has atleast that merit. It is sterling gold.'
'Is it?' grumbled Jonas, with a doubtful shake of the head.
'Aye!' said Mr Pecksniff, warming with his subject 'it is. To be plainwith you, Mr Jonas, if I could find two such sons-in-law as you will oneday make to some deserving man, capable of appreciating a nature such asyours, I would--forgetful of myself--bestow upon my daughters portionsreaching to the very utmost limit of my means.'
This was strong language, and it was earnestly delivered. But who canwonder that such a man as Mr Pecksniff, after all he had seen and heardof Mr Jonas, should be strong and earnest upon such a theme; a themethat touched even the worldly lips of undertakers with the honey ofeloquence!
Mr Jonas was silent, and looked thoughtfully at the landscape. Forthey were seated on the outside of the coach, at the back, and weretravelling down into the country. He accompanied Mr Pecksniff home for afew days' change of air and scene after his recent trials.
'Well,' he said, at last, with captivating bluntness, 'suppose you gotone such son-in-law as me, what then?'
Mr Pecksniff regarded him at first with inexpressible surprise; thengradually breaking into a sort of dejected vivacity, said:
'Then well I know whose husband he would be!'
'Whose?' asked Jonas, drily.
'My eldest girl's, Mr Jonas,' replied Pecksniff, with moistening eyes.'My dear Cherry's; my staff, my scrip, my treasure, Mr Jonas. A hardstruggle, but it is in the nature of things! I must one day part withher to a husband. I know it, my dear friend. I am prepared for it.'
'Ecod! you've been prepared for that a pretty long time, I shouldthink,' said Jonas.
'Many have sought to bear her from me,' said Mr Pecksniff. 'All havefailed. "I never will give my hand, papa"--those were her words--"unlessmy heart is won." She has not been quite so happy as she used to be, oflate. I don't know why.'
Again Mr Jonas looked at the landscape; then at the coachman; then atthe luggage on the roof; finally at Mr Pecksniff.
'I suppose you'll have to part with the other one, some of these days?'he observed, as he caught that gentleman's eye.
'Probably,' said the parent. 'Years will tame down the wildness of myfoolish bird, and then it will be caged. But Cherry, Mr Jonas, Cherry--'
'Oh, ah!' interrupted Jonas. 'Years have made her all right enough.Nobody doubts that. But you haven't answered what I asked you. Ofcourse, you're not obliged to do it, you know, if you don't like. You'rethe best judge.'
There was a warning sulkiness in the manner of this speech, whichadmonished Mr Pecksniff that his dear friend was not to be trifled withor fenced off, and that he must either return a straight-forward replyto his question, or plainly give him to understand that he declined toenlighten him upon the subject to which it referred. Mindful in thisdilemma of the caution old Anthony had given him almost with hislatest breath, he resolved to speak to the point, and so told Mr Jonas(enlarging upon the communication as a proof of his great attachment andconfidence), that in the case he had put; to wit, in the event of sucha man as he proposing for his daughter's hand, he would endow her with afortune of four thousand pounds.
'I should sadly pinch and cramp myself to do so,' was his fatherlyremark; 'but that would be my duty, and my conscience would reward me.For myself, my conscience is my bank. I have a trifle invested there--amere trifle, Mr Jonas--but I prize it as a store of value, I assureyou.'
The good man's enemies would have divided upon this question into twoparties. One would have asserted without scruple that if Mr Pecksniff'sconscience were his bank, and he kept a running account there, he musthave overdrawn it beyond all mortal means of computation. The otherwould have contended that it was a mere fictitious form; a perfectlyblank book; or one in which entries were only made with a peculiar kindof invisible ink to become legible at some indefinite time; and that henever troubled it at all.
'It would sadly pinch and cramp me, my dear friend,' repeated MrPecksniff, 'but Providence--perhaps I may be permitted to say a specialProvidence--has blessed my endeavours, and I could guarantee to make thesacrifice.'
A question of philosophy arises here, whether Mr Pecksniff had or hadnot good reason to say that he was specially patronized and encouragedin his undertakings. All his life long he had been walking up and downthe narrow ways and by-places, with a hook in one hand and a crook inthe other, scraping all sorts of valuable odds and ends into his pouch.Now, there being a special Providence in the fall of a sparrow, itfollows (so Mr Pecksniff, and only such admirable men, would havereasoned), that there must also be a special Providence in the alightingof the stone or stick, or other substance which is aimed at the sparrow.And Mr Pecksniff's hook, or crook, having invariably knocked the sparrowon the head and brought him down, that gentleman may have been led toconsider himself as specially licensed to bag sparrows, and as beingspecially seized and possessed of all the birds he had got together.That many undertakings, national as well as individual--but especiallythe former--are held to be specially brought to a glorious andsuccessful issue, which never could be so regarded on any other processof reasoning, must be clear to all men. Therefore the precedents wouldseem to show that Mr Pecksniff had (as things go) good argument forwhat he said and might be permitted to say it, and did not say itpresumptuously, vainly, or arrogantly, but in a spirit of high faith andgreat wisdom.
Mr Jonas, not being much accustomed to perplex his mind with theories ofthis nature, expressed no opinion on the subject. Nor did he receivehis companion's announcement with one solitary syllable, good, bad, orindifferent. He preserved this taciturnity for a quarter of an hour atleast, and during the whole of that time appeared to be steadily engagedin subjecting some given amount to the operation of every known rule infigures; adding to it, taking from it, multiplying it, reducing it bylong and short division; working it by the rule-of-three direct andinversed; exchange or barter; practice; simple interest; compoundinterest; and other means of arithmetical calculation. The resultof these labours appeared to be satisfactory, for when he did breaksilence, it was as one who had arrived at some specific result, andfreed himself from a state of distressing uncertainty.
'Come, old Pecksniff!'--Such was his jocose address, as he slapped thatgentleman on the back, at the end of the stage--'let's have s
omething!'
'With all my heart,' said Mr Pecksniff.
'Let's treat the driver,' cried Jonas.
'If you think it won't hurt the man, or render him discontented with hisstation--certainly,' faltered Mr Pecksniff.
Jonas only laughed at this, and getting down from the coach-top withgreat alacrity, cut a cumbersome kind of caper in the road. After which,he went into the public-house, and there ordered spirituous drink tosuch an extent, that Mr Pecksniff had some doubts of his perfect sanity,until Jonas set them quite at rest by saying, when the coach could waitno longer:
'I've been standing treat for a whole week and more, and lettingyou have all the delicacies of the season. YOU shall pay for thisPecksniff.' It was not a joke either, as Mr Pecksniff at first supposed;for he went off to the coach without further ceremony, and left hisrespected victim to settle the bill.
But Mr Pecksniff was a man of meek endurance, and Mr Jonas was hisfriend. Moreover, his regard for that gentleman was founded, as we know,on pure esteem, and a knowledge of the excellence of his character. Hecame out from the tavern with a smiling face, and even went so far asto repeat the performance, on a less expensive scale, at the nextale-house. There was a certain wildness in the spirits of Mr Jonas (notusually a part of his character) which was far from being subduedby these means, and, for the rest of the journey, he was so verybuoyant--it may be said, boisterous--that Mr Pecksniff had somedifficulty in keeping pace with him.
They were not expected--oh dear, no! Mr Pecksniff had proposed in Londonto give the girls a surprise, and had said he wouldn't write a word toprepare them on any account, in order that he and Mr Jonas might takethem unawares, and just see what they were doing, when they thoughttheir dear papa was miles and miles away. As a consequence of thisplayful device, there was nobody to meet them at the finger-post, butthat was of small consequence, for they had come down by the daycoach, and Mr Pecksniff had only a carpetbag, while Mr Jonas had onlya portmanteau. They took the portmanteau between them, put the bag uponit, and walked off up the lane without delay; Mr Pecksniff already goingon tiptoe as if, without this precaution, his fond children, being thenat a distance of a couple of miles or so, would have some filial senseof his approach.
It was a lovely evening in the spring-time of the year; and in the softstillness of the twilight, all nature was very calm and beautiful. Theday had been fine and warm; but at the coming on of night, the air grewcool, and in the mellowing distance smoke was rising gently from thecottage chimneys. There were a thousand pleasant scents diffused around,from young leaves and fresh buds; the cuckoo had been singing all daylong, and was but just now hushed; the smell of earth newly-upturned,first breath of hope to the first labourer after his garden withered,was fragrant in the evening breeze. It was a time when most men cherishgood resolves, and sorrow for the wasted past; when most men, lookingon the shadows as they gather, think of that evening which must close onall, and that to-morrow which has none beyond.
'Precious dull,' said Mr Jonas, looking about. 'It's enough to make aman go melancholy mad.'
'We shall have lights and a fire soon,' observed Mr Pecksniff.
'We shall need 'em by the time we get there,' said Jonas. 'Why the devildon't you talk? What are you thinking of?'
'To tell you the truth, Mr Jonas,' said Pecksniff with great solemnity,'my mind was running at that moment on our late dear friend, yourdeparted father.'
Mr Jonas immediately let his burden fall, and said, threatening him withhis hand:
'Drop that, Pecksniff!'
Mr Pecksniff not exactly knowing whether allusion was made to thesubject or the portmanteau, stared at his friend in unaffected surprise.
'Drop it, I say!' cried Jonas, fiercely. 'Do you hear? Drop it, now andfor ever. You had better, I give you notice!'
'It was quite a mistake,' urged Mr Pecksniff, very much dismayed;'though I admit it was foolish. I might have known it was a tenderstring.'
'Don't talk to me about tender strings,' said Jonas, wiping his foreheadwith the cuff of his coat. 'I'm not going to be crowed over by you,because I don't like dead company.'
Mr Pecksniff had got out the words 'Crowed over, Mr Jonas!' when thatyoung man, with a dark expression in his countenance, cut him short oncemore:
'Mind!' he said. 'I won't have it. I advise you not to revive thesubject, neither to me nor anybody else. You can take a hint, if youchoose as well as another man. There's enough said about it. Comealong!'
Taking up his part of the load again, when he had said these words,he hurried on so fast that Mr Pecksniff, at the other end of theportmanteau, found himself dragged forward, in a very inconvenient andungraceful manner, to the great detriment of what is called by fancygentlemen 'the bark' upon his shins, which were most unmercifully bumpedagainst the hard leather and the iron buckles. In the course of a fewminutes, however, Mr Jonas relaxed his speed, and suffered his companionto come up with him, and to bring the portmanteau into a tolerablystraight position.
It was pretty clear that he regretted his late outbreak, and that hemistrusted its effect on Mr Pecksniff; for as often as that gentlemanglanced towards Mr Jonas, he found Mr Jonas glancing at him, which wasa new source of embarrassment. It was but a short-lived one, though, forMr Jonas soon began to whistle, whereupon Mr Pecksniff, taking his cuefrom his friend, began to hum a tune melodiously.
'Pretty nearly there, ain't we?' said Jonas, when this had lasted sometime.
'Close, my dear friend,' said Mr Pecksniff.
'What'll they be doing, do you suppose?' asked Jonas.
'Impossible to say,' cried Mr Pecksniff. 'Giddy truants! They may beaway from home, perhaps. I was going to--he! he! he!--I was going topropose,' said Mr Pecksniff, 'that we should enter by the back way, andcome upon them like a clap of thunder, Mr Jonas.'
It might not have been easy to decide in respect of which of theirmanifold properties, Jonas, Mr Pecksniff, the carpet-bag, and theportmanteau, could be likened to a clap of thunder. But Mr Jonas givinghis assent to this proposal, they stole round into the back yard, andsoftly advanced towards the kitchen window, through which the mingledlight of fire and candle shone upon the darkening night.
Truly Mr Pecksniff is blessed in his children--in one of them, at anyrate. The prudent Cherry--staff and scrip, and treasure of her dotingfather--there she sits, at a little table white as driven snow, beforethe kitchen fire, making up accounts! See the neat maiden, as with penin hand, and calculating look addressed towards the ceiling and bunchof keys within a little basket at her side, she checks the housekeepingexpenditure! From flat-iron, dish-cover, and warming-pan; from pot andkettle, face of brass footman, and black-leaded stove; bright glancesof approbation wink and glow upon her. The very onions dangling from thebeam, mantle and shine like cherubs' cheeks. Something of the influenceof those vegetables sinks into Mr Pecksniff's nature. He weeps.
It is but for a moment, and he hides it from the observation ofhis friend--very carefully--by a somewhat elaborate use of hispocket-handkerchief, in fact; for he would not have his weakness known.
'Pleasant,' he murmured, 'pleasant to a father's feelings! My dear girl!Shall we let her know we are here, Mr Jonas?'
'Why, I suppose you don't mean to spend the evening in the stable, orthe coach-house,' he returned.
'That, indeed, is not such hospitality as I would show to YOU, myfriend,' cried Mr Pecksniff, pressing his hand. And then he took a longbreath, and tapping at the window, shouted with stentorian blandness:
'Boh!'
Cherry dropped her pen and screamed. But innocence is ever bold, orshould be. As they opened the door, the valiant girl exclaimed in a firmvoice, and with a presence of mind which even in that trying moment didnot desert her, 'Who are you? What do you want? Speak! or I will call myPa.'
Mr Pecksniff held out his arms. She knew him instantly, and rushed intohis fond embrace.
'It was thoughtless of us, Mr Jonas, it was very thoughtless,' saidPecksniff, smoothing his daugther's hair. 'My darling
, do you see that Iam not alone!'
Not she. She had seen nothing but her father until now. She saw MrJonas now, though; and blushed, and hung her head down, as she gave himwelcome.
But where was Merry? Mr Pecksniff didn't ask the question in reproach,but in a vein of mildness touched with a gentle sorrow. She wasupstairs, reading on the parlour couch. Ah! Domestic details had nocharms for HER. 'But call her down,' said Mr Pecksniff, with a placidresignation. 'Call her down, my love.'
She was called and came, all flushed and tumbled from reposing on thesofa; but none the worse for that. No, not at all. Rather the better, ifanything.
'Oh my goodness me!' cried the arch girl, turning to her cousin when shehad kissed her father on both cheeks, and in her frolicsome nature hadbestowed a supernumerary salute upon the tip of his nose, 'YOU here,fright! Well, I'm very thankful that you won't trouble ME much!'
'What! you're as lively as ever, are you?' said Jonas. 'Oh! You're awicked one!'
'There, go along!' retorted Merry, pushing him away. 'I'm sure I don'tknow what I shall ever do, if I have to see much of you. Go along, forgracious' sake!'
Mr Pecksniff striking in here, with a request that Mr Jonas wouldimmediately walk upstairs, he so far complied with the young lady'sadjuration as to go at once. But though he had the fair Cherry on hisarm, he could not help looking back at her sister, and exchanging somefurther dialogue of the same bantering description, as they all fourascended to the parlour; where--for the young ladies happened, by goodfortune, to be a little later than usual that night--the tea-board wasat that moment being set out.
Mr Pinch was not at home, so they had it all to themselves, and werevery snug and talkative, Jonas sitting between the two sisters, anddisplaying his gallantry in that engaging manner which was peculiarto him. It was a hard thing, Mr Pecksniff said, when tea was done,and cleared away, to leave so pleasant a little party, but having someimportant papers to examine in his own apartment, he must beg them toexcuse him for half an hour. With this apology he withdrew, singinga careless strain as he went. He had not been gone five minutes, whenMerry, who had been sitting in the window, apart from Jonas and hersister, burst into a half-smothered laugh, and skipped towards the door.
'Hallo!' cried Jonas. 'Don't go.'
'Oh, I dare say!' rejoined Merry, looking back. 'You're very anxious Ishould stay, fright, ain't you?'
'Yes, I am,' said Jonas. 'Upon my word I am. I want to speak to you.'But as she left the room notwithstanding, he ran out after her,and brought her back, after a short struggle in the passage whichscandalized Miss Cherry very much.
'Upon my word, Merry,' urged that young lady, 'I wonder at you! Thereare bounds even to absurdity, my dear.'
'Thank you, my sweet,' said Merry, pursing up her rosy Lips. 'Muchobliged to it for its advice. Oh! do leave me alone, you monster, do!'This entreaty was wrung from her by a new proceeding on the part ofMr Jonas, who pulled her down, all breathless as she was, into a seatbeside him on the sofa, having at the same time Miss Cherry upon theother side.
'Now,' said Jonas, clasping the waist of each; 'I have got both armsfull, haven't I?'
'One of them will be black and blue to-morrow, if you don't let me go,'cried the playful Merry.
'Ah! I don't mind YOUR pinching,' grinned Jonas, 'a bit.'
'Pinch him for me, Cherry, pray,' said Mercy. 'I never did hate anybodyso much as I hate this creature, I declare!'
'No, no, don't say that,' urged Jonas, 'and don't pinch either, becauseI want to be serious. I say--Cousin Charity--'
'Well! what?' she answered sharply.
'I want to have some sober talk,' said Jonas; 'I want to prevent anymistakes, you know, and to put everything upon a pleasant understanding.That's desirable and proper, ain't it?'
Neither of the sisters spoke a word. Mr Jonas paused and cleared histhroat, which was very dry.
'She'll not believe what I am going to say, will she, cousin?' saidJonas, timidly squeezing Miss Charity.
'Really, Mr Jonas, I don't know, until I hear what it is. It's quiteimpossible!'
'Why, you see,' said Jonas, 'her way always being to make game ofpeople, I know she'll laugh, or pretend to--I know that, beforehand. Butyou can tell her I'm in earnest, cousin; can't you? You'll confess youknow, won't you? You'll be honourable, I'm sure,' he added persuasively.
No answer. His throat seemed to grow hotter and hotter, and to be moreand more difficult of control.
'You see, Cousin Charity,' said Jonas, 'nobody but you can tell herwhat pains I took to get into her company when you were both at theboarding-house in the city, because nobody's so well aware of it, youknow. Nobody else can tell her how hard I tried to get to know youbetter, in order that I might get to know her without seeming to wishit; can they? I always asked you about her, and said where had she gone,and when would she come, and how lively she was, and all that; didn't I,cousin? I know you'll tell her so, if you haven't told her so already,and--and--I dare say you have, because I'm sure you're honourable, ain'tyou?'
Still not a word. The right arm of Mr Jonas--the elder sister sat uponhis right--may have been sensible of some tumultuous throbbing which wasnot within itself; but nothing else apprised him that his words had hadthe least effect.
'Even if you kept it to yourself, and haven't told her,' resumed Jonas,'it don't much matter, because you'll bear honest witness now; won'tyou? We've been very good friends from the first; haven't we? and ofcourse we shall be quite friends in future, and so I don't mind speakingbefore you a bit. Cousin Mercy, you've heard what I've been saying.She'll confirm it, every word; she must. Will you have me for yourhusband? Eh?'
As he released his hold of Charity, to put this question with bettereffect, she started up and hurried away to her own room, marking herprogress as she went by such a train of passionate and incoherent sound,as nothing but a slighted woman in her anger could produce.
'Let me go away. Let me go after her,' said Merry, pushing him off,and giving him--to tell the truth--more than one sounding slap upon hisoutstretched face.
'Not till you say yes. You haven't told me. Will you have me for yourhusband?'
'No, I won't. I can't bear the sight of you. I have told you so ahundred times. You are a fright. Besides, I always thought you liked mysister best. We all thought so.'
'But that wasn't my fault,' said Jonas.
'Yes it was; you know it was.'
'Any trick is fair in love,' said Jonas. 'She may have thought I likedher best, but you didn't.'
'I did!'
'No, you didn't. You never could have thought I liked her best, when youwere by.'
'There's no accounting for tastes,' said Merry; 'at least I didn't meanto say that. I don't know what I mean. Let me go to her.'
'Say "Yes," and then I will.'
'If I ever brought myself to say so, it should only be that I might hateand tease you all my life.'
'That's as good,' cried Jonas, 'as saying it right out. It's a bargain,cousin. We're a pair, if ever there was one.'
This gallant speech was succeeded by a confused noise of kissing andslapping; and then the fair but much dishevelled Merry broke away, andfollowed in the footsteps of her sister.
Now whether Mr Pecksniff had been listening--which in one of hischaracter appears impossible; or divined almost by inspiration what thematter was--which, in a man of his sagacity is far more probable; orhappened by sheer good fortune to find himself in exactly theright place, at precisely the right time--which, under the specialguardianship in which he lived might very reasonably happen; it is quitecertain that at the moment when the sisters came together in their ownroom, he appeared at the chamber door. And a marvellous contrast itwas--they so heated, noisy, and vehement; he so calm, so self-possessed,so cool and full of peace, that not a hair upon his head was stirred.
'Children!' said Mr Pecksniff, spreading out his hands in wonder, butnot before he had shut the door, and set his back against it. 'Girls!Daughters! What is this?'
; 'The wretch; the apostate; the false, mean, odious villain; has beforemy very face proposed to Mercy!' was his eldest daughter's answer.
'Who has proposed to Mercy!' asked Mr Pecksniff.
'HE has. That thing, Jonas, downstairs.'
'Jonas proposed to Mercy?' said Mr Pecksniff. 'Aye, aye! Indeed!'
'Have you nothing else to say?' cried Charity. 'Am I to be driven mad,papa? He has proposed to Mercy, not to me.'
'Oh, fie! For shame!' said Mr Pecksniff, gravely. 'Oh, for shame! Canthe triumph of a sister move you to this terrible display, my child? Oh,really this is very sad! I am sorry; I am surprised and hurt to seeyou so. Mercy, my girl, bless you! See to her. Ah, envy, envy, what apassion you are!'
Uttering this apostrophe in a tone full of grief and lamentation, MrPecksniff left the room (taking care to shut the door behind him),and walked downstairs into the parlour. There he found his intendedson-in-law, whom he seized by both hands.
'Jonas!' cried Mr Pecksniff. 'Jonas! the dearest wish of my heart is nowfulfilled!'
'Very well; I'm glad to hear it,' said Jonas. 'That'll do. I say! Asit ain't the one you're so fond of, you must come down with anotherthousand, Pecksniff. You must make it up five. It's worth that, to keepyour treasure to yourself, you know. You get off very cheap that way,and haven't a sacrifice to make.'
The grin with which he accompanied this, set off his other attractionsto such unspeakable advantage, that even Mr Pecksniff lost his presenceof mind for a moment, and looked at the young man as if he were quitestupefied with wonder and admiration. But he quickly regained hiscomposure, and was in the very act of changing the subject, when a hastystep was heard without, and Tom Pinch, in a state of great excitement,came darting into the room.
On seeing a stranger there, apparently engaged with Mr Pecksniff inprivate conversation, Tom was very much abashed, though he still lookedas if he had something of great importance to communicate, which wouldbe a sufficient apology for his intrusion.
'Mr Pinch,' said Pecksniff, 'this is hardly decent. You will excuse mysaying that I think your conduct scarcely decent, Mr Pinch.'
'I beg your pardon, sir,' replied Tom, 'for not knocking at the door.'
'Rather beg this gentleman's pardon, Mr Pinch,' said Pecksniff. 'I knowyou; he does not.--My young man, Mr Jonas.'
The son-in-law that was to be gave him a slight nod--not activelydisdainful or contemptuous, only passively; for he was in a good humour.
'Could I speak a word with you, sir, if you please?' said Tom. 'It'srather pressing.'
'It should be very pressing to justify this strange behaviour, MrPinch,' returned his master. 'Excuse me for one moment, my dear friend.Now, sir, what is the reason of this rough intrusion?'
'I am very sorry, sir, I am sure,' said Tom, standing, cap in hand,before his patron in the passage; 'and I know it must have a very rudeappearance--'
'It HAS a very rude appearance, Mr Pinch.'
'Yes, I feel that, sir; but the truth is, I was so surprised to seethem, and knew you would be too, that I ran home very fast indeed, andreally hadn't enough command over myself to know what I was doing verywell. I was in the church just now, sir, touching the organ for my ownamusement, when I happened to look round, and saw a gentleman and ladystanding in the aisle listening. They seemed to be strangers, sir, aswell as I could make out in the dusk; and I thought I didn't knowthem; so presently I left off, and said, would they walk up into theorgan-loft, or take a seat? No, they said, they wouldn't do that; butthey thanked me for the music they had heard. In fact,' observed Tom,blushing, 'they said, "Delicious music!" at least, SHE did; and I amsure that was a greater pleasure and honour to me than any compliment Icould have had. I--I--beg your pardon sir;' he was all in a tremble, anddropped his hat for the second time 'but I--I'm rather flurried, and Ifear I've wandered from the point.'
'If you will come back to it, Thomas,' said Mr Pecksniff, with an icylook, 'I shall feel obliged.'
'Yes, sir,' returned Tom, 'certainly. They had a posting carriage at theporch, sir, and had stopped to hear the organ, they said. And then theysaid--SHE said, I mean, "I believe you live with Mr Pecksniff, sir?" Isaid I had that honour, and I took the liberty, sir,' added Tom, raisinghis eyes to his benefactor's face, 'of saying, as I always will andmust, with your permission, that I was under great obligations to you,and never could express my sense of them sufficiently.'
'That,' said Mr Pecksniff, 'was very, very wrong. Take your time, MrPinch.'
'Thank you, sir,' cried Tom. 'On that they asked me--she asked, Imean--"Wasn't there a bridle road to Mr Pecksniff's house?"'
Mr Pecksniff suddenly became full of interest.
'"Without going by the Dragon?" When I said there was, and said howhappy I should be to show it 'em, they sent the carriage on by the road,and came with me across the meadows. I left 'em at the turnstile to runforward and tell you they were coming, and they'll be here, sir, in--inless than a minute's time, I should say,' added Tom, fetching his breathwith difficulty.
'Now, who,' said Mr Pecksniff, pondering, 'who may these people be?'
'Bless my soul, sir!' cried Tom, 'I meant to mention that at first, Ithought I had. I knew them--her, I mean--directly. The gentleman whowas ill at the Dragon, sir, last winter; and the young lady who attendedhim.'
Tom's teeth chattered in his head, and he positively staggered withamazement, at witnessing the extraordinary effect produced on MrPecksniff by these simple words. The dread of losing the old man'sfavour almost as soon as they were reconciled, through the mere factof having Jonas in the house; the impossibility of dismissing Jonas,or shutting him up, or tying him hand and foot and putting him inthe coal-cellar, without offending him beyond recall; the horriblediscordance prevailing in the establishment, and the impossibility ofreducing it to decent harmony with Charity in loud hysterics, Mercy inthe utmost disorder, Jonas in the parlour, and Martin Chuzzlewit and hisyoung charge upon the very doorsteps; the total hopelessness of beingable to disguise or feasibly explain this state of rampant confusion;the sudden accumulation over his devoted head of every complicatedperplexity and entanglement for his extrication from which he hadtrusted to time, good fortune, chance, and his own plotting, so filledthe entrapped architect with dismay, that if Tom could have been aGorgon staring at Mr Pecksniff, and Mr Pecksniff could have been aGorgon staring at Tom, they could not have horrified each other half somuch as in their own bewildered persons.
'Dear, dear!' cried Tom, 'what have I done? I hoped it would be apleasant surprise, sir. I thought you would like to know.'
But at that moment a loud knocking was heard at the hall door.
Martin Chuzzlewit Page 22