WHEREIN A CERTAIN GENTLEMAN BECOMES PARTICULAR IN HIS ATTENTIONS TO
A CERTAIN LADY; AND MORE COMING EVENTS THAN ONE, CAST THEIR SHADOWS
BEFORE
The family were within two or three days of their departure from Mrs
Todgers's, and the commercial gentlemen were to a man despondent and
not to be comforted, because of the approaching separation, when
Bailey junior, at the jocund time of noon, presented himself before
Miss Charity Pecksniff, then sitting with her sister in the banquet
chamber, hemming six new pocket-handkerchiefs for Mr Jinkins; and
having expressed a hope, preliminary and pious, that he might be
blest, gave her in his pleasant way to understand that a visitor
attended to pay his respects to her, and was at that moment waiting
in the drawing-room. Perhaps this last announcement showed in a
more striking point of view than many lengthened speeches could have
done, the trustfulness and faith of Bailey's nature; since he had,
in fact, last seen the visitor on the door-mat, where, after
signifying to him that he would do well to go upstairs, he had left
him to the guidance of his own sagacity. Hence it was at least an
even chance that the visitor was then wandering on the roof of the
house, or vainly seeking to extricate himself from the maze of
bedrooms; Todgers's being precisely that kind of establishment in
which an unpiloted stranger is pretty sure to find himself in some
place 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
gracious neither, not if I wos him!'
The remark was rendered somewhat obscure in itself, by reason (as
the reader may have observed) of a redundancy of negatives; but
accompanied by action expressive of a faithful couple walking arm-
in-arm towards a parochial church, mutually exchanging looks of
love, it clearly signified this youth's conviction that the caller's
purpose was of an amorous tendency. Miss Charity affected to
reprove so great a liberty; but she could not help smiling. He was
a strange boy, to be sure. There was always some ground of
probability and likelihood mingled with his absurd behaviour. That
was the best of it!
'But I don't know any gentlemen, Bailey,' said Miss Pecksniff. 'I
think you must have made a mistake.'
Mr Bailey smiled at the extreme wildness of such a supposition, and
regarded the young ladies with unimpaired affability.
'My dear Merry,' said Charity, 'who CAN it be? Isn't it odd? I
have a great mind not to go to him really. So very strange, you
know!'
The younger sister plainly considered that this appeal had its
origin in the pride of being called upon and asked for; and that it
was intended as an assertion of superiority, and a retaliation upon
her for having captured the commercial gentlemen. Therefore, she
replied, with great affection and politeness, that it was, no doubt,
very strange indeed; and that she was totally at a loss to conceive
what the ridiculous person unknown could mean by it.
'Quite impossible to divine!' said Charity, with some sharpness,
'though still, at the same time, you needn't be angry, my dear.'
'Thank you,' retorted Merry, singing at her needle. 'I am quite
aware of that, 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
have been 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 in that respect, and not to be worried by those odious
men! How do you do it, Cherry?'
This artless inquiry might have led to turbulent results, but for
the strong emotions of delight evinced by Bailey junior, whose
relish in the turn the conversation had lately taken was so acute,
that it impelled and forced him to the instantaneous performance of
a dancing step, extremely difficult in its nature, and only to be
achieved in a moment of ecstasy, which is commonly called The Frog's
Hornpipe. A manifestation so lively, brought to their immediate
recollection the great virtuous precept, 'Keep up appearances
whatever you do,' in which they had been educated. They forbore at
once, and jointly signified to Mr Bailey that if he should presume
to practice that figure any more in their presence, they would
instantly acquaint Mrs Todgers with the fact, and would demand his
condign punishment, at the hands of that lady. The young gentleman
having expressed the bitterness of his contrition by affecting to
wipe away scalding tears with his apron, and afterwards feigning to
wring a vast amount of water from that garment, held the door open
while Miss Charity passed out; and so that damsel went in state
upstairs to receive her mysterious adorer.
By some strange occurrence of favourable circumstances he had found
out the drawing-room, and was sitting there alone.
'Ah, cousin!' he said. 'Here I am, you see. You thought I was
lost, I'll be bound. Well! how do you find yourself by this time?'
Miss Charity replied that she was quite well, and gave Mr Jonas
Chuzzlewit her hand.
'That's right,' said Mr Jonas, 'and you've got over the fatigues of
the journey have you? I say. How's the other one?'
'My sister is very well, I believe,' returned the young lady. 'I
have not heard her complain of any indisposition, sir. Perhaps you
would like to see her, and ask her yourself?'
'No, no cousin!' said Mr Jonas, sitting down beside her on the
window-seat. 'Don't be in a hurry. There's no occasion for that,
you know. 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.
'Did the other one?'
'I am sure it's impossible for me to say what my sister may, or may
not have thought on such a subject,' cried Cherry. 'She never said
anything to 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 his
voice.
'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
that gave a very disinterested character to her assent.
'Such liveliness as yours I mean, you know,' observed Mr Jonas, as
he nudged her with his elbow. 'I should have come to see you
before, but I didn'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
then I should have found you out before. Why, I shouldn't have
found you even now, if I hadn't met him in the street this morning.
What a sleek, sly chap he is! Just like a tomcat, an't he?'
'I must trouble you to have the goodness to speak more respectfully
of my 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
you leave,' said Jonas. 'I think it's liquid aggravation that
circulates through his veins, and not regular blood. How old should
you think my father 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
an angry knock. 'Ah! It's time he was thinking of being drawn out a
little finer 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, I
don'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
alone more. Where's his religion, I should like to know, when he
goes flying in the face of the Bible like that? Threescore-and-
ten's the mark, and no 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 a
book 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 the trouble to look about him, he may find a greater
number of confirmations of the fact in the occurrences of any single
day, than the steam-gun can discharge balls in a minute.
'But there's enough of my father,' said Jonas; 'it's of no use to go
putting one's self out of the way by talking about HIM. I called to
ask you to come and take a walk, cousin, and see some of the sights;
and to come to our house afterwards, and have a bit of something.
Pecksniff will 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 he told me he shouldn't be back before I came
here; in case you wouldn't believe me. There's nothing like proof,
is there? Ha, ha! I say--you'll bring the other one, you know!'
Miss Charity cast her eyes upon her father's autograph, which merely
said--'Go, my children, with your cousin. Let there be union among
us when it is possible;' and after enough of hesitation to impart a
proper value to her consent, withdrew to prepare her sister and
herself for the excursion. She soon returned, accompanied by Miss
Mercy, who was by no means pleased to leave the brilliant triumphs
of Todgers's for the society 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 be
anywhere else, I assure you.'
'You don't mean that,' cried Mr Jonas. 'You can't, you know. It
isn't possible.'
'You can have what opinion you like, fright,' retorted Mercy. 'I am
content to keep mine; and mine is that you are a very unpleasant,
odious, disagreeable person.' Here she laughed heartily, and seemed
to enjoy herself very much.
'Oh, you're a sharp gal!' said Mr Jonas. 'She's a regular teaser,
an't she, cousin?'
Miss Charity replied in effect, that she was unable to say what the
habits and propensities of a regular teaser might be; and that even
if she possessed such information, it would ill become her to admit
the existence of any creature with such an unceremonious name in her
family; far less in the person of a beloved sister; 'whatever,'
added Cherry with 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 off again, and stay at home.'
This threat had the desired effect of preventing any farther
altercation, for Mr Jonas immediately proposed an adjournment, and
the same being carried unanimously, they departed from the house
straightway. On the doorstep, Mr Jonas gave an arm to each cousin;
which act of gallantry being observed by Bailey junior, from the
garret window, was by him saluted with a loud and violent fit of
coughing, to which paroxysm he was still the victim when they turned
the corner.
Mr Jonas inquired in the first instance if they were good walkers
and being answered, 'Yes,' submitted their pedestrian powers to a
pretty severe 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 was observable in this gentleman, that he had an
insurmountable distaste to the insides of buildings, and that he was
perfectly acquainted with the merits of all shows, in respect of
which there was any charge for admission, which it seemed were every
one detestable, and of the very lowest grade of merit. He was so
thoroughly possessed with this opinion, that when Miss Charity
happened to mention the circumstance of their having been twice or
thrice to the theatre with Mr Jinkins and party, he inquired, as a
matter of course, 'where the orders came from?' and being told that
Mr Jinkins and party paid, was beyond description entertained,
observing that 'they must be nice flats, certainly;' and often in
the course of the walk, bursting out again into a perfect convulsion
of laughter 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,
it being by that time twilight, Mr Jonas intimated that he would
show them one of the best pieces of fun with which he was
acquainted. This joke was of a practical kind, and its humour lay
in taking a hackney-coach to the extreme limits of possibility for a
shilling. Happily it brought them to the place where Mr Jonas
dwelt, or the young ladies might have rather missed the point and
cream of the jest.
The old-established firm of Anthony Chuzzlewit and Son, Manchester
Warehousemen, and so forth, had its place of business in a very
narrow street somewhere behind the Post Office; where every house
was in the brightest summer morning very gloomy; and where light
porters watered the pavement, each before his own employer's
premises, in fantastic patterns, in the dog-days; and where spruce
gentlemen with their hands in the pockets of symmetrical trousers,
were always to be seen in warm weather, contemplating their
undeniable boots in dusty warehouse doorways; which appeared to be
the hardest work they did, except now and then carrying pens behind
their ears. A dim, dirty, smoky, tumble-down, rotten old house it
was, as anybody would desire to see; but there the firm of Anthony
Chuzzlewit and Son transacted all their business and their pleasure
too, such as it was; for neither the young man nor the old had any
other residence, or any care or thought beyond its narrow limits.
Business, as may be readily supposed, was the main thing in this
establishment; insomuch indeed that it shouldered comfort out of
doors, and jostled the domestic arrangements at every turn. Thus in
the miserable bedrooms there were files of moth-eaten letters
hanging up against the walls; and linen rollers, and fragments of
old patterns, and odds and ends of spoiled goods, strewed upon the
ground; while the meagre bedsteads, washing-stands, and scraps of
carpet, were huddled away into corners as objects of secondary
consideration, not to be thought of but as disagreeable necessities,
furnishing no profit, and intruding on the one affair of life. The
single sitting-room was on the same principle, a chaos of boxes and
old papers, and had more counting-house stools in it than chairs;
not to mention a great monster of a desk straddling over the middle
of the floor, and an iron safe sunk into the wall above the fireplace.
The solitary little table for purposes of refection and social
enjoyment, bore as fair a proportion to the desk and other business
furniture, as the graces and harmless relaxations of life had ever
done, in the persons of the old man and his son, 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 greet his son
and his fair cousins as they entered.
An ancient proverb warns us that we should not expect to find old
heads upon young shoulders; to which it may be added that we seldom
meet with that unnatural combination, but we feel a strong desire to
knock them off; merely from an inherent love we have of seeing
things in their right places. It is not improbable that many men,
in no wise choleric by nature, felt this impulse rising up within
them, when they first made the acquaintance of Mr Jonas; but if
they had known him more intimately in his own house, and had sat
with him at his own board, it would assuredly have been paramount to
all other considerations.
'Well, ghost!' said Mr Jonas, dutifully addressing his parent by
that title. '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. I want 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. You don't know anything for certain, YOU don't. Give me your
candle here. I want it for the gals.'
Anthony handed him a battered old office candlestick, with which Mr
Jonas preceded the young ladies to the nearest bedroom, where he
left them to take off their shawls and bonnets; and returning,
occupied himself in opening a bottle of wine, sharpening the
carving-knife, and muttering compliments to his father, until they
and the dinner appeared together. The repast consisted of a hot leg
of mutton with greens and potatoes; and the dishes having been set
upon the table by a slipshod old woman, they were left to enjoy it
after their own manner.
'Bachelor's Hall, you know, cousin,' said Mr Jonas to Charity. 'I
say--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 upon the left. Other one, will you come here?'
'You're such a fright,' replied Mercy, 'that I know I shall have no
appetite if I sit so near you; but I suppose I must.'
'An't she lively?' whispered Mr Jonas to the elder sister, with his
favourite elbow emphasis.
'Oh I really don't know!' replied Miss Pecksniff, tartly. 'I am
tired of being 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
of taking 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't eat or drink out of 'em, I think; and where's that sleepy-
headed old Chuffey 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 father
called. As he spoke, the door of a small glass office, which was
partitioned off from the rest of the room, was slowly opened, and a
little blear-eyed, weazen-faced, ancient man came creeping out. He
was of a remote fashion, and dusty, like the rest of the furniture;
he was dressed in a decayed suit of black; with breeches garnished
at the knees with rusty wisps of ribbon, the very paupers of
shoestrings; on the lower portion of his spindle legs were dingy
worsted stockings of the same colour. He looked as if he had
been put away and forgotten half a century before, and somebody
had just found him in a lumber-closet.
Such as he was, he came slowly creeping on towards the table, until
at last he crept into the vacant chair, from which, as his dim
faculties became conscious of the presence of strangers, and those
strangers ladies, he rose again, apparently intending to make a bow.
But he sat down once more without having made it, and breathing on
his shrivelled hands to warm them, remained with his poor blue nose
immovable above his plate, looking at nothing, with eyes that saw
nothing, and a face that meant nothing. Take him in that state, and
he was an embodiment of nothing. Nothing else.
'Our clerk,' said Mr Jonas, as host and master of the ceremonies:
'Old Chuffey.'
'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 young
ladies, 'he's precious old, for one thing; and I an't best pleased
with him for that, for I think my father must have caught it of him.
He's a strange old chap, for another,' he added in a louder voice,
'and don't understand any one hardly, but HIM!' He pointed to his
honoured parent with 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
with figures and book-keeping all his life; and twenty years ago or
so he went and took a fever. All the time he was out of his head
(which was three weeks) he never left off casting up; and he got to
so many million at last that I don't believe he's ever been quite
right since. We don't do 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
earns his salt, which is enough for our look-out. I was telling you
that he hardly understands any one except my father; he always
understands him, though, and wakes up quite wonderful. He's been
used to his ways so long, you see! Why, I've seen him play whist,
with my father for a partner; and a good rubber too; when he had no
more notion what sort of people 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. 'He
eats--when he's helped. But he don't care whether he waits a minute
or an hour, as long as father's here; so when I'm at all sharp set,
as I am to-day, I come to him after I've taken the edge off my own
hunger, you know. Now, Chuffey, stupid, are you ready?'
Chuffey remained immovable.
'Always a perverse old file, he was,' said Mr Jonas, coolly helping
himself 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
at the first sound of the voice, so that it was at once a curious
and quite a moving sight to see him. 'Yes, yes. Quite ready, Mr
Chuzzlewit. Quite ready, sir. All ready, all ready, all ready.'
With that he stopped, smilingly, and listened for some further
address; but being spoken to no more, the light forsook his face by
little and little, until he was nothing again.
'He'll be very disagreeable, mind,' said Jonas, addressing his
cousins as he handed the old man's portion to his father. 'He
always chokes himself when it an't broth. Look at him, now! Did
you ever see a horse with such a wall-eyed expression as he's got?
If it hadn't been for the joke of it I wouldn't have let him come
in to-day; but I thought he'd amuse you.'
The poor old subject of this humane speech was, happily for himself,
as unconscious of its purport as of most other remarks that were
made in his presence. But the mutton being tough, and his gums
weak, he quickly verified the statement relative to his choking
propensities, and underwent so much in his attempts to dine, that Mr
Jonas was infinitely amused; protesting that he had seldom seen him
better company in all his life, and that he was enough to make a man
split his sides with laughing. Indeed, he went so far as to assure
the sisters, that in this point 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 the
expense of the poor shadow at their table. But he did,
unquestionably; though not so much--to do him justice--with
reference to their ancient clerk, as in exultation at the sharpness
of Jonas. For the same reason that young man's coarse allusions,
even to himself, filled him with a stealthy glee; causing him to rub
his hands and chuckle covertly, as if he said in his sleeve, 'I
taught him. I trained him. This is the heir of my 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 aim of 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 on outraged nature. Anthony was better than these
at any rate.
Chuffey boggled over his plate so long, that Mr Jones, losing
patience, took it from him at last with his own hands, and requested
his father to signify to that venerable person that he had better
'peg away at his bread;' which Anthony did.
'Aye, aye!' cried the old man, brightening up as before, when this
was communicated to him in the same voice, 'quite right, quite
right. He's your own son, Mr Chuzzlewit! Bless him for a sharp
lad! Bless him, bless him!'
Mr Jonas considered this so particularly childish (perhaps with some
reason), that he only laughed the more, and told his cousins that he
was afraid one of these fine days, Chuffey would be the death of
him. The cloth was then removed, and the bottle of wine set upon
the table, from which Mr Jonas filled the young ladies' glasses,
calling on them not to spare it, as they might be certain there was
plenty more where that came from. But he added with some haste
after this sally that it was only his joke, and they wouldn't
suppose him to be in earnest, he was sure.
'I shall drink,' said Anthony, 'to Pecksniff. Your father, my
dears. A clever 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. I don'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. Ask Jonas!'
'You can't overdo taking care of yourself,' observed that hopeful
gentleman 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
one lives too long. Ha, ha! Tell the other one that--I say!'
'Good gracious me!' said Cherry, in a petulant manner. 'You can
tell her yourself, 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
sure she 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
young lady.
Mr Jonas made no verbal rejoinder, but he glanced at Mercy with an
odd expression in his face; and said THAT wouldn't break his heart,
she might depend upon it. Then he looked on Charity with even
greater favour than before, and besought her, as his polite manner
was, to 'come a little closer.'
'There's another thing that's not easily overdone, father,' remarked
Jonas, 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 are counterfeits.'
The delighted father applauded this sentiment to the echo; and was
so much tickled by it, that he was at the pains of imparting the
same to his ancient clerk, who rubbed his hands, nodded his palsied
head, winked his watery eyes, and cried in his whistling tones,
'Good! good! Your own son, Mr Chuzzlewit' with every feeble
demonstration of delight that he was capable of making. But this
old man's enthusiasm had the redeeming quality of being felt in
sympathy with the only creature to whom he was linked by ties of
long association, and by his present helplessness. And if there had
been anybody there, who cared to think about it, some dregs of a
better nature unawakened, might perhaps have been descried through
that very medium, melancholy though it was, yet lingering at the
bottom of the worn-out cask called Chuffey.
As matters stood, nobody thought or said anything upon the subject;
so Chuffey fell back into a dark corner on one side of the
fireplace, where he always spent his evenings, and was neither seen
nor heard again that night; save once, when a cup of tea was given
him, in which he was seen to soak his bread mechanically. There was
no reason to suppose that he went to sleep at these seasons, or that
he heard, or saw, or felt, or thought. He remained, as it were,
frozen up--if any term expressive of such a vigorous process can be
applied to him--until he was again thawed for the moment by a word
or touch from Anthony.
Miss Charity made tea by desire of Mr Jonas, and felt and looked so
like the lady of the house that she was in the prettiest confusion
imaginable; the more so from Mr Jonas sitting close beside her, and
whispering a variety of admiring expressions in her ear. Miss
Mercy, for her part, felt the entertainment of the evening to be so
distinctly and exclusively theirs, that she silently deplored the
commercial gentlemen--at that moment, no doubt, wearying for her
return--and yawned over yesterday's newspaper. As to Anthony, he
went to sleep outright, so Jonas and Cherry had a clear stage to
themselves as long as they chose to keep possession of it.
When the tea-tray was taken away, as it was at last, Mr Jonas
produced a dirty pack of cards, and entertained the sisters with
divers small feats of dexterity: whereof the main purpose of every
one was, that you were to 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 Jonas informed them that these accomplishments
were in high vogue in the most intellectual circles, and that large
amounts were constantly changing hands on such hazards. And it may
be remarked that he fully believed this; for there is a simplicity
of cunning no less than a simplicity of innocence; and in all
matters where a lively faith in knavery and meanness was required as
the ground-work of belief, Mr Jonas was one of the most credulous of
men. His ignorance, which was stupendous, may be taken into
account, if the reader pleases, separately.
This fine young man had all the inclination to be a profligate of
the first water, and only lacked the one good trait in the common
catalogue of debauched vices--open-handedness--to be a notable
vagabond. But there his griping and penurious habits stepped in;
and as one poison will sometimes neutralise another, when wholesome
remedies would not avail, so he was restrained by a bad passion from
quaffing his full measure of evil, when virtue might have sought to
hold him back in vain.
By the time he had unfolded all the peddling schemes he knew upon
the cards, it was growing late in the evening; and Mr Pecksniff not
making his appearance, the young ladies expressed a wish to return
home. But this, Mr Jonas, in his gallantry, would by no means
allow, until they had partaken of some bread and cheese and porter;
and even then he was excessively unwilling to allow them to depart;
often beseeching Miss Charity to come a little closer, or to stop a
little longer, and preferring many other complimentary petitions of
that nature in his own hospitable and earnest way. When all his
efforts to detain them were fruitless, he put on his hat and
greatcoat preparatory to escorting them to Todgers's; remarking that
he knew they would rather walk thither than ride; and that for his
part he was quite of their opinion.
'Good night,' said Anthony. 'Good night; remember me to--ha, ha,
ha!--to Pecksniff. Take care of your cousin, my dears; beware of
Jonas; he's a dangerous fellow. Don't quarrel for him, in any
case!'
'Oh, the creature!' cried Mercy. 'The idea of quarrelling for HIM!
You may take him, Cherry, my love, all to yourself. I make you a
present of my share.'
'What! I'm a sour grape, am I, cousin?' said Jonas.
Miss Charity was more entertained by this repartee than one would
have supposed likely, considering its advanced age and simple
character. But in her sisterly affection she took Mr Jonas to task
for leaning so very hard upon a broken reed, and said that he must
not be so cruel to poor Merry any more, or she (Charity) would
positively be obliged to hate him. Mercy, who really had her share
of good humour, only retorted with a laugh; and they walked home in
consequence without any angry passages of words upon the way. Mr
Jonas being in the middle, and having a cousin on each arm,
sometimes squeezed the wrong one; so tightly too, as to cause her
not a little inconvenience; but as he talked to Charity in whispers
the whole time, and paid her great attention, no doubt this was an
accidental circumstance. When they arrived at Todgers's, and the
door was opened, Mercy broke hastily from them, and ran upstairs;
but Charity and Jonas lingered on the steps talking together for
more than five minutes; so, as Mrs Todgers observed next morning, to
a third party, 'It was pretty clear what was going on THERE, and she
was glad of it, for it really was high time that Miss Pecksniff
thought of settling.'
And now the day was coming on, when that bright vision which had
burst on Todgers's so suddenly, and made a sunshine in the shady
breast of Jinkins, was to be seen no more; when it was to be packed,
like a brown paper 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 into the country.
'Never, my dear Miss Pecksniffs,' said Mrs Todgers, when they
retired to rest on the last night of their stay, 'never have I seen
an establishment so perfectly broken-hearted as mine is at this
present moment of time. I don't believe the gentlemen will be the
gentlemen they were, or anything like it--no, not for weeks to come.
You have a great deal to answer for, both of you.'
They modestly disclaimed any wilful agency in this disastrous state
of things, and regretted it very much.
'Your pious pa, too,' said Mrs Todgers. 'There's a loss! My dear
Miss Pecksniffs, your pa is a perfect missionary of peace and love.'
Entertaining an uncertainty as to the particular kind of love
supposed to be comprised in Mr Pecksniff's mission, the young ladies
received the compliment rather coldly.
'If I dared,' said Mrs Todgers, perceiving this, 'to violate a
confidence which has been reposed in me, and to tell you why I must
beg of 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 Mr Jinkins 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;
'my own loves, if you will allow me the privilege of taking that
freedom on the eve of our separation, Mr Jinkins and the gentlemen
have made up a little musical party among themselves, and DO intend,
in the dead of this night, to perform a serenade upon the stairs
outside the door. I could have wished, I own,' said Mrs Todgers,
with her usual foresight, 'that it had been fixed to take place an
hour or two earlier; because when gentlemen sit up late they drink,
and when they drink they're not so 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 a mark of their
attention.'
The young ladies were at first so much excited by the news, that
they vowed 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 not only went to bed, but fell asleep; and were, moreover,
not ecstatically charmed to be awakened some time afterwards by
certain dulcet strains breaking in upon the silent watches of the
night.
It was very affecting--very. Nothing more dismal could have been
desired by the most fastidious taste. The gentleman of a vocal turn
was head mute, or chief mourner; Jinkins took the bass; and the rest
took anything they could get. The youngest gentleman blew his
melancholy into a 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 spontaneous combustion, and the serenade had been in
honour of their ashes, it would have been impossible to surpass the
unutterable despair expressed in that 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 is sorrowful and hideous in
sound. The flute of the youngest gentleman was wild and fitful. It
came and went in gusts, like the wind. For a long time together he
seemed to have left off, and when it was quite settled by Mrs
Todgers and the young ladies that, overcome by his feelings, he had
retired in tears, he unexpectedly turned up again at the very top of
the tune, gasping for breath. He was a tremendous performer. There
was no knowing where to have him; and exactly when you thought he
was doing nothing at all, then was he doing the very thing that
ought to astonish you most.
There were several of these concerted pieces; perhaps two or three
too many, 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 may be presumed to have penetrated into the very depths of
his nature, if he had any depths, Jinkins couldn't leave the
youngest gentleman alone. He asked him distinctly, before the
second song began--as a personal favour too, mark the villain in
that--not to play. Yes; he said so; not to play. The breathing of
the youngest gentleman was heard through the key-hole of the door.
He DIDN'T play. What vent was a flute for the passions swelling up
within his breast? A trombone would have been a world 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 of the ladies, and adapted it to an old tune. They all
joined, except the 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 become of Todgers's when CHARITY and
MERCY were banished from its walls. The oracle delivered no opinion
particularly worth remembering, according to the not infrequent
practice of oracles from the earliest ages down to the present time.
In the absence of enlightenment on that subject, the strain deserted
it, and went on to show that the Miss Pecksniffs were nearly related
to Rule Britannia, and that if Great Britain hadn't been an island,
there could have been no Miss Pecksniffs. And being now on a
nautical 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, the
gentlemen gradually withdrew to bed to give the music the effect of
distance; and so it died away, and Todgers's was left to its
repose.
Mr Bailey reserved his vocal offering until the morning, when he put
his head into the room as the young ladies were kneeling before
their trunks, packing up, and treated them to an imitation of the
voice of a young dog in trying circumstances; when that animal is
supposed by persons of a lively fancy, to relieve his feelings by
calling for pen and 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?'
inquired the 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 she never know'd. I say, young ladies, I'm a-going
to leave. I an't a-going to stand being called names by her, no
longer.'
Miss Mercy inquired what his plans for the future might be; in reply
to whom 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'm acquainted 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 a rolling-pin, and she's always a-catching up something of that
sort, and throwing it at me, when the gentlemans' appetites is good.
Wot,' said Mr Bailey, stung by the recollection of his wrongs, 'wot,
if they DO consume 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't say it is! but some one knows it is. But I an't a-going to
have every rise in prices wisited on me. I an't a-going to be
killed because the 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 give me all at once, becos if ever you come back
agin, I shan't be here; and as to the other boy, HE won't deserve
nothing, I know.'
The young ladies, on behalf of Mr Pecksniff and themselves, acted on
this thoughtful advice; and in consideration of their private
friendship, presented Mr Bailey with a gratuity so liberal that he
could hardly do enough to show his gratitude; which found but an
imperfect vent, during the remainder of the day, in divers secret
slaps upon his pocket, and other such facetious pantomime. Nor was
it confined to these ebullitions; for besides crushing a bandbox,
with a bonnet in it, he seriously damaged Mr Pecksniff's luggage, by
ardently hauling it down from the top of the house; and in short
evinced, by every means in his power, a lively sense of the favours
he had received from that gentleman and his family.
Mr Pecksniff and Mr Jinkins came home to dinner arm-in-arm; for the
latter gentleman had made half-holiday on purpose; thus gaining an
immense advantage over the youngest gentleman and the rest, whose
time, as it perversely chanced, was all bespoke, until the evening.
The bottle of wine was Mr Pecksniff's treat, and they were very
sociable indeed; though full of lamentations on the necessity of
parting. While they were in the midst of their enjoyment, old
Anthony and his son were announced; much to the surprise of Mr
Pecksniff, and greatly to the discomfiture of Jinkins.
'Come to say good-bye, you see,' said Anthony, in a low voice, to Mr
Pecksniff, as they took their seats apart at the table, while the
rest conversed among themselves. 'Where's the use of a division
between you 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
people I would rather differ from than agree with. But you know my
opinion of you.'
Mr Pecksniff, still having 'hypocrite' in his mind, only replied by
a motion of his head, which was something between an affirmative
bow, and a negative shake.
'Complimentary,' said Anthony. 'Complimentary, upon my word. It
was an involuntary tribute to your abilities, even at the time; and
it was not a time to suggest compliments either. But we agreed in
the coach, you know, that we quite understood each other.'
'Oh, quite!' assented Mr Pecksniff, in a manner which implied that
he himself was misunderstood most cruelly, but would not complain.
Anthony glanced at his son as he sat beside Miss Charity, and then
at Mr Pecksniff, and then at his son again, very many times. It
happened that Mr Pecksniff's glances took a similar direction; but
when he became aware of it, he first cast down his eyes, and then
closed them; as if he were 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
be very 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 you
daughter.'
'Tut, my good sir,' said Mr Pecksniff, with his eyes still closed;
'young people--young people--a kind of cousins, too--no more
sweetness than is in that, sir.'
'Why, there is very little sweetness in that, according to our
experience,' returned Anthony. 'Isn't there a trifle more here?'
'Impossible to say,' rejoined Mr Pecksniff. 'Quite impossible! You
surprise me.'
'Yes, I know that,' said the old man, drily. 'It may last; I mean
the sweetness, not the surprise; and it may die off. Supposing it
should last, perhaps (you having feathered your nest pretty well,
and I having done the same), we might have a mutual interest in the
matter.'
Mr Pecksniff, smiling gently, was about to speak, but Anthony
stopped him.
'I know what you are going to say. It's quite unnecessary. You
have never thought of this for a moment; and in a point so nearly
affecting the 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 it seems to me, my dear Pecksniff,' added Anthony,
laying his hand upon his sleeve, 'that if you and I kept up the joke
of pretending not to see this, 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 my taking the liberty of putting the
matter beyond a doubt thus early; and having it distinctly
understood, as it is now, that we do see it, and do know 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
that good man somewhat puzzled and discomfited by such very plain
dealing, and not quite free from a sense of having been foiled in
the exercise of his familiar weapons.
But the night-coach had a punctual character, and it was time to
join it at the office; which was so near at hand that they had
already sent their luggage and arranged to walk. Thither the whole
party repaired, therefore, after no more delay than sufficed for the
equipment of the Miss Pecksniffs and Mrs Todgers. They found the
coach already at its starting-place, and the horses in; there, too,
were a large majority of the commercial gentlemen, including the
youngest, who was visibly agitated, and in a state of deep mental
dejection.
Nothing could equal the distress of Mrs Todgers in parting from the
young ladies, except the strong emotions with which she bade adieu
to Mr Pecksniff. Never surely was a pocket-handkerchief taken in
and out of a flat reticule so often as Mrs Todgers's was, as she
stood upon the pavement by the coach-door supported on either side
by a commercial gentleman; and by the sight of the coach-lamps
caught such brief snatches and glimpses of the good man's face, as
the constant interposition of Mr Jinkins allowed. For Jinkins, to
the last the youngest gentleman's rock a-head in life, stood upon the
coachstep talking to the ladies. Upon the other step was Mr Jonas,
who maintained that position in right of his cousinship; whereas the
youngest gentleman, who had been first upon the ground, was deep in
the booking-office among the black and red placards, and the
portraits of fast coaches, where he was ignominiously harassed by
porters, and had to contend and strive perpetually with heavy
baggage. This false position, combined with his nervous excitement,
brought about the very consummation and catastrophe of his miseries;
for when in the moment of parting he aimed a flower, a hothouse
flower that had cost money, at the fair hand of Mercy, it reached,
instead, the coachman on the box, who thanked 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 their own regretful thoughts. But Mr Pecksniff, dismissing all
ephemeral considerations of social pleasure and enjoyment,
concentrated his meditations on the one great virtuous purpose
before him, of casting out that ingrate and deceiver, whose presence
yet troubled his domestic hearth, and was a sacrilege upon the
altars of his household gods.