Martin Chuzzlewit

  CHAPTER THIRTY

  PROVES THAT CHANGES MAY BE RUNG IN THE BEST-REGULATED FAMILIES, AND THATMR PECKNIFF WAS A SPECIAL HAND AT A TRIPLE-BOB-MAJOR

  As the surgeon's first care after amputating a limb, is to take up thearteries the cruel knife has severed, so it is the duty of this history,which in its remorseless course has cut from the Pecksniffian trunk itsright arm, Mercy, to look to the parent stem, and see how in all itsvarious ramifications it got on without her.

  And first of Mr Pecksniff it may be observed, that having provided forhis youngest daughter that choicest of blessings, a tender and indulgenthusband; and having gratified the dearest wish of his parental heart byestablishing her in life so happily; he renewed his youth, and spreadingthe plumage of his own bright conscience, felt himself equal to allkinds of flights. It is customary with fathers in stage-plays, aftergiving their daughters to the men of their hearts, to congratulatethemselves on having no other business on their hands but to dieimmediately; though it is rarely found that they are in a hurry to doit. Mr Pecksniff, being a father of a more sage and practical class,appeared to think that his immediate business was to live; and havingdeprived himself of one comfort, to surround himself with others.

  But however much inclined the good man was to be jocose and playful, andin the garden of his fancy to disport himself (if one may say so) likean architectural kitten, he had one impediment constantly opposed tohim. The gentle Cherry, stung by a sense of slight and injury, whichfar from softening down or wearing out, rankled and festered in herheart--the gentle Cherry was in flat rebellion. She waged fierce waragainst her dear papa, she led her parent what is usually called, forwant of a better figure of speech, the life of a dog. But never did thatdog live, in kennel, stable-yard, or house, whose life was half as hardas Mr Pecksniff's with his gentle child.

  The father and daughter were sitting at their breakfast. Tom hadretired, and they were alone. Mr Pecksniff frowned at first; but havingcleared his brow, looked stealthily at his child. Her nose was very redindeed, and screwed up tight, with hostile preparation.

  'Cherry,' cried Mr Pecksniff, 'what is amiss between us? My child, whyare we disunited?'

  Miss Pecksniff's answer was scarcely a response to this gush ofaffection, for it was simply, 'Bother, Pa!'

  'Bother!' repeated Mr Pecksniff, in a tone of anguish.

  'Oh! 'tis too late, Pa,' said his daughter, calmly 'to talk to me likethis. I know what it means, and what its value is.'

  'This is hard!' cried Mr Pecksniff, addressing his breakfast-cup. 'Thisis very hard! She is my child. I carried her in my arms when she woreshapeless worsted shoes--I might say, mufflers--many years ago!'

  'You needn't taunt me with that, Pa,' retorted Cherry, with a spitefullook. 'I am not so many years older than my sister, either, though sheIS married to your friend!'

  'Ah, human nature, human nature! Poor human nature!' said Mr Pecksniff,shaking his head at human nature, as if he didn't belong to it. 'Tothink that this discord should arise from such a cause! oh dear, ohdear!'

  'From such a cause indeed!' cried Cherry. 'State the real cause, Pa, orI'll state it myself. Mind! I will!'

  Perhaps the energy with which she said this was infectious. However thatmay be, Mr Pecksniff changed his tone and the expression of his face forone of anger, if not downright violence, when he said:

  'You will! you have. You did yesterday. You do always. You have nodecency; you make no secret of your temper; you have exposed yourself toMr Chuzzlewit a hundred times.'

  'Myself!' cried Cherry, with a bitter smile. 'Oh indeed! I don't mindthat.'

  'Me, too, then,' said Mr Pecksniff.

  His daughter answered with a scornful laugh.

  'And since we have come to an explanation, Charity,' said Mr Pecksniff,rolling his head portentously, 'let me tell you that I won't allow it.None of your nonsense, Miss! I won't permit it to be done.'

  'I shall do,' said Charity, rocking her chair backwards and forwards,and raising her voice to a high pitch, 'I shall do, Pa, what I pleaseand what I have done. I am not going to be crushed in everything, dependupon it. I've been more shamefully used than anybody ever was inthis world,' here she began to cry and sob, 'and may expect the worsetreatment from you, I know. But I don't care for that. No, I don't!'

  Mr Pecksniff was made so desperate by the loud tone in which she spoke,that, after looking about him in frantic uncertainty for some means ofsoftening it, he rose and shook her until the ornamental bow of hairupon her head nodded like a plume. She was so very much astonished bythis assault, that it really had the desired effect.

  'I'll do it again!' cried Mr Pecksniff, as he resumed his seat andfetched his breath, 'if you dare to talk in that loud manner. How doyou mean about being shamefully used? If Mr Jonas chose your sister inpreference to you, who could help it, I should wish to know? What have Ito do with it?'

  'Wasn't I made a convenience of? Weren't my feelings trifled with?Didn't he address himself to me first?' sobbed Cherry, clasping herhands; 'and oh, good gracious, that I should live to be shook!'

  'You'll live to be shaken again,' returned her parent, 'if you driveme to that means of maintaining the decorum of this humble roof. Yousurprise me. I wonder you have not more spirit. If Mr Jonas didn't carefor you, how could you wish to have him?'

  'I wish to have him!' exclaimed Cherry. 'I wish to have him, Pa!'

  'Then what are you making all this piece of work for,' retorted herfather, 'if you didn't wish to have him?'

  'Because I was treated with duplicity,' said Cherry; 'and because my ownsister and my own father conspired against me. I am not angry with HER,'said Cherry; looking much more angry than ever. 'I pity her. I'm sorryfor her. I know the fate that's in store for her, with that Wretch.'

  'Mr Jonas will survive your calling him a wretch, my child, I dare say,'said Mr Pecksniff, with returning resignation; 'but call him what youlike and make an end of it.'

  'Not an end, Pa,' said Charity. 'No, not an end. That's not the onlypoint on which we're not agreed. I won't submit to it. It's better youshould know that at once. No; I won't submit to it indeed, Pa! I amnot quite a fool, and I am not blind. All I have got to say is, I won'tsubmit to it.'

  Whatever she meant, she shook Mr Pecksniff now; for his lame attempt toseem composed was melancholy in the last degree. His anger changed tomeekness, and his words were mild and fawning.

  'My dear,' he said; 'if in the short excitement of an angry moment Iresorted to an unjustifiable means of suppressing a little outbreakcalculated to injure you as well as myself--it's possible I may havedone so; perhaps I did--I ask your pardon. A father asking pardon ofhis child,' said Mr Pecksniff, 'is, I believe, a spectacle to soften themost rugged nature.'

  But it didn't at all soften Miss Pecksniff; perhaps because her naturewas not rugged enough. On the contrary, she persisted in saying, overand over again, that she wasn't quite a fool, and wasn't blind, andwouldn't submit to it.

  'You labour under some mistake, my child!' said Mr Pecksniff, 'butI will not ask you what it is; I don't desire to know. No, pray!' headded, holding out his hand and colouring again, 'let us avoid thesubject, my dear, whatever it is!'

  'It's quite right that the subject should be avoided between us,sir,' said Cherry. 'But I wish to be able to avoid it altogether, andconsequently must beg you to provide me with a home.'

  Mr Pecksniff looked about the room, and said, 'A home, my child!'

  'Another home, papa,' said Cherry, with increasing stateliness 'Place meat Mrs Todgers's or somewhere, on an independent footing; but I will notlive here, if such is to be the case.'

  It is possible that Miss Pecksniff saw in Mrs Todgers's a visionof enthusiastic men, pining to fall in adoration at her feet. It ispossible that Mr Pecksniff, in his new-born juvenility, saw, in thesuggestion of that same establishment, an easy means of relievinghimself from an irksome charge in the way of temper and watchfulness.It is undoubtedly a fact that in the attentive ears of Mr Pecksniff, theproposition d
id not sound quite like the dismal knell of all his hopes.

  But he was a man of great feeling and acute sensibility; and he squeezedhis pocket-handkerchief against his eyes with both hands--as such menalways do, especially when they are observed. 'One of my birds,' MrPecksniff said, 'has left me for the stranger's breast; the other wouldtake wing to Todgers's! Well, well, what am I? I don't know what I am,exactly. Never mind!'

  Even this remark, made more pathetic perhaps by his breaking down inthe middle of it, had no effect upon Charity. She was grim, rigid, andinflexible.

  'But I have ever,' said Mr Pecksniff, 'sacrificed my children'shappiness to my own--I mean my own happiness to my children's--and Iwill not begin to regulate my life by other rules of conduct now. If youcan be happier at Mrs Todgers's than in your father's house, my dear, goto Mrs Todgers's! Do not think of me, my girl!' said Mr Pecksniff withemotion; 'I shall get on pretty well, no doubt.'

  Miss Charity, who knew he had a secret pleasure in the contemplation ofthe proposed change, suppressed her own, and went on to negotiate theterms. His views upon this subject were at first so very limited thatanother difference, involving possibly another shaking, threatened toensue; but by degrees they came to something like an understanding, andthe storm blew over. Indeed, Miss Charity's idea was so agreeableto both, that it would have been strange if they had not come to anamicable agreement. It was soon arranged between them that the projectshould be tried, and that immediately; and that Cherry's not being well,and needing change of scene, and wishing to be near her sister, shouldform the excuse for her departure to Mr Chuzzlewit and Mary, to both ofwhom she had pleaded indisposition for some time past. These premisesagreed on, Mr Pecksniff gave her his blessing, with all the dignity ofa self-denying man who had made a hard sacrifice, but comforted himselfwith the reflection that virtue is its own reward. Thus they werereconciled for the first time since that not easily forgiven night,when Mr Jonas, repudiating the elder, had confessed his passion for theyounger sister, and Mr Pecksniff had abetted him on moral grounds.

  But how happened it--in the name of an unexpected addition to that smallfamily, the Seven Wonders of the World, whatever and wherever they maybe, how happened it--that Mr Pecksniff and his daughter were aboutto part? How happened it that their mutual relations were so greatlyaltered? Why was Miss Pecksniff so clamorous to have it understood thatshe was neither blind nor foolish, and she wouldn't bear it? It is notpossible that Mr Pecksniff had any thoughts of marrying again; or thathis daughter, with the sharp eye of a single woman, fathomed his design!

  Let us inquire into this.

  Mr Pecksniff, as a man without reproach, from whom the breath of slanderpassed like common breath from any other polished surface, could affordto do what common men could not. He knew the purity of his own motives;and when he had a motive worked at it as only a very good man (or a verybad one) can. Did he set before himself any strong and palpable motivesfor taking a second wife? Yes; and not one or two of them, but acombination of very many.

  Old Martin Chuzzlewit had gradually undergone an important change. Evenupon the night when he made such an ill-timed arrival at Mr Pecksniff'shouse, he was comparatively subdued and easy to deal with. This MrPecksniff attributed, at the time, to the effect his brother's death hadhad upon him. But from that hour his character seemed to have modifiedby regular degrees, and to have softened down into a dull indifferencefor almost every one but Mr Pecksniff. His looks were much the same asever, but his mind was singularly altered. It was not that this or thatpassion stood out in brighter or in dimmer hues; but that the colour ofthe whole man was faded. As one trait disappeared, no other trait sprungup to take its place. His senses dwindled too. He was less keen ofsight; was deaf sometimes; took little notice of what passed before him;and would be profoundly taciturn for days together. The process of thisalteration was so easy that almost as soon as it began to be observedit was complete. But Mr Pecksniff saw it first, and having AnthonyChuzzlewit fresh in his recollection, saw in his brother Martin the sameprocess of decay.

  To a gentleman of Mr Pecksniff's tenderness, this was a very mournfulsight. He could not but foresee the probability of his respectedrelative being made the victim of designing persons, and of his richesfalling into worthless hands. It gave him so much pain that he resolvedto secure the property to himself; to keep bad testamentary suitors at adistance; to wall up the old gentleman, as it were, for his own use. Bylittle and little, therefore, he began to try whether Mr Chuzzlewit gaveany promise of becoming an instrument in his hands, and finding that hedid, and indeed that he was very supple in his plastic fingers, he madeit the business of his life--kind soul!--to establish an ascendancy overhim; and every little test he durst apply meeting with a success beyondhis hopes, he began to think he heard old Martin's cash already chinkingin his own unworldly pockets.

  But when Mr Pecksniff pondered on this subject (as, in his zealousway, he often did), and thought with an uplifted heart of the train ofcircumstances which had delivered the old gentleman into his hands forthe confusion of evil-doers and the triumph of a righteous nature, healways felt that Mary Graham was his stumbling-block. Let the old mansay what he would, Mr Pecksniff knew he had a strong affection for her.He knew that he showed it in a thousand little ways; that he liked tohave her near him, and was never quite at ease when she was absentlong. That he had ever really sworn to leave her nothing in his will, MrPecksniff greatly doubted. That even if he had, there were many ways bywhich he could evade the oath and satisfy his conscience, Mr Pecksniffknew. That her unprotected state was no light burden on the old man'smind, he also knew, for Mr Chuzzlewit had plainly told him so. 'Then,'said Mr Pecksniff 'what if I married her! What,' repeated Mr Pecksniff,sticking up his hair and glancing at his bust by Spoker; 'whatif, making sure of his approval first--he is nearly imbecile, poorgentleman--I married her!'

  Mr Pecksniff had a lively sense of the Beautiful; especially in women.His manner towards the sex was remarkable for its insinuating character.It is recorded of him in another part of these pages, that he embracedMrs Todgers on the smallest provocation; and it was a way he had; it wasa part of the gentle placidity of his disposition. Before any thought ofmatrimony was in his mind, he had bestowed on Mary many little tokens ofhis spiritual admiration. They had been indignantly received, but thatwas nothing. True, as the idea expanded within him, these had becometoo ardent to escape the piercing eye of Cherry, who read his scheme atonce; but he had always felt the power of Mary's charms. So Interest andInclination made a pair, and drew the curricle of Mr Pecksniff's plan.

  As to any thought of revenging himself on young Martin for his insolentexpressions when they parted, and of shutting him out still moreeffectually from any hope of reconciliation with his grandfather, MrPecksniff was much too meek and forgiving to be suspected of harbouringit. As to being refused by Mary, Mr Pecksniff was quite satisfied thatin her position she could never hold out if he and Mr Chuzzlewit wereboth against her. As to consulting the wishes of her heart in such acase, it formed no part of Mr Pecksniff's moral code; for he knew what agood man he was, and what a blessing he must be to anybody. His daughterhaving broken the ice, and the murder being out between them, MrPecksniff had now only to pursue his design as cleverly as he could, andby the craftiest approaches.

  'Well, my good sir,' said Mr Pecksniff, meeting old Martin in thegarden, for it was his habit to walk in and out by that way, as thefancy took him; 'and how is my dear friend this delicious morning?'

  'Do you mean me?' asked the old man.

  'Ah!' said Mr Pecksniff, 'one of his deaf days, I see. Could I mean anyone else, my dear sir?'

  'You might have meant Mary,' said the old man.

  'Indeed I might. Quite true. I might speak of her as a dear, dearfriend, I hope?' observed Mr Pecksniff.

  'I hope so,' returned old Martin. 'I think she deserves it.'

  'Think!' cried Pecksniff, 'think, Mr Chuzzlewit!'

  'You are speaking, I know,' returned Martin, 'but I don't catc
h what yousay. Speak up!'

  'He's getting deafer than a flint,' said Pecksniff. 'I was saying, mydear sir, that I am afraid I must make up my mind to part with Cherry.'

  'What has SHE been doing?' asked the old man.

  'He puts the most ridiculous questions I ever heard!' muttered MrPecksniff. 'He's a child to-day.' After which he added, in a mild roar:'She hasn't been doing anything, my dear friend.'

  'What are you going to part with her for?' demanded Martin.

  'She hasn't her health by any means,' said Mr Pecksniff. 'She missesher sister, my dear sir; they doted on each other from the cradle. And Ithink of giving her a run in London for a change. A good long run, sir,if I find she likes it.'

  'Quite right,' cried Martin. 'It's judicious.'

  'I am glad to hear you say so. I hope you mean to bear me company inthis dull part, while she's away?' said Mr Pecksniff.

  'I have no intention of removing from it,' was Martin's answer.

  'Then why,' said Mr Pecksniff, taking the old man's arm in his, andwalking slowly on; 'Why, my good sir, can't you come and stay with me?I am sure I could surround you with more comforts--lowly as is myCot--than you can obtain at a village house of entertainment. And pardonme, Mr Chuzzlewit, pardon me if I say that such a place as the Dragon,however well-conducted (and, as far as I know, Mrs Lupin is one of theworthiest creatures in this county), is hardly a home for Miss Graham.'

  Martin mused a moment; and then said, as he shook him by the hand:

  'No. You're quite right; it is not.'

  'The very sight of skittles,' Mr Pecksniff eloquently pursued, 'is farfrom being congenial to a delicate mind.'

  'It's an amusement of the vulgar,' said old Martin, 'certainly.'

  'Of the very vulgar,' Mr Pecksniff answered. 'Then why not bring MissGraham here, sir? Here is the house. Here am I alone in it, for ThomasPinch I do not count as any one. Our lovely friend shall occupy mydaughter's chamber; you shall choose your own; we shall not quarrel, Ihope!'

  'We are not likely to do that,' said Martin.

  Mr Pecksniff pressed his hand. 'We understand each other, my dear sir,I see!--I can wind him,' he thought, with exultation, 'round my littlefinger.'

  'You leave the recompense to me?' said the old man, after a minute'ssilence.

  'Oh! do not speak of recompense!' cried Pecksniff.

  'I say,' repeated Martin, with a glimmer of his old obstinacy, 'youleave the recompense to me. Do you?'

  'Since you desire it, my good sir.'

  'I always desire it,' said the old man. 'You know I always desire it. Iwish to pay as I go, even when I buy of you. Not that I do not leave abalance to be settled one day, Pecksniff.'

  The architect was too much overcome to speak. He tried to drop a tearupon his patron's hand, but couldn't find one in his dry distillery.

  'May that day be very distant!' was his pious exclamation. 'Ah, sir! IfI could say how deep an interest I have in you and yours! I allude toour beautiful young friend.'

  'True,' he answered. 'True. She need have some one interested in her.I did her wrong to train her as I did. Orphan though she was, she wouldhave found some one to protect her whom she might have loved again. Whenshe was a child, I pleased myself with the thought that in gratifying mywhim of placing her between me and false-hearted knaves, I had doneher a kindness. Now she is a woman, I have no such comfort. She has noprotector but herself. I have put her at such odds with the world, thatany dog may bark or fawn upon her at his pleasure. Indeed she stands inneed of delicate consideration. Yes; indeed she does!'

  'If her position could be altered and defined, sir?' Mr Pecksniffhinted.

  'How can that be done? Should I make a seamstress of her, or agoverness?'

  'Heaven forbid!' said Mr Pecksniff. 'My dear sir, there are other ways.There are indeed. But I am much excited and embarrassed at present, andwould rather not pursue the subject. I scarcely know what I mean. Permitme to resume it at another time.'

  'You are not unwell?' asked Martin anxiously.

  'No, no!' cried Pecksniff. 'No. Permit me to resume it at another time.I'll walk a little. Bless you!'

  Old Martin blessed him in return, and squeezed his hand. As he turnedaway, and slowly walked towards the house, Mr Pecksniff stood gazingafter him; being pretty well recovered from his late emotion, which, inany other man, one might have thought had been assumed as a machineryfor feeling Martin's pulse. The change in the old man found such aslight expression in his figure, that Mr Pecksniff, looking after him,could not help saying to himself:

  'And I can wind him round my little finger! Only think!'

  Old Martin happening to turn his head, saluted him affectionately. MrPecksniff returned the gesture.

  'Why, the time was,' said Mr Pecksniff; 'and not long ago, when hewouldn't look at me! How soothing is this change. Such is the delicatetexture of the human heart; so complicated is the process of its beingsoftened! Externally he looks the same, and I can wind him round mylittle finger. Only think!'

  In sober truth, there did appear to be nothing on which Mr Pecksniffmight not have ventured with Martin Chuzzlewit; for whatever MrPecksniff said or did was right, and whatever he advised was done.Martin had escaped so many snares from needy fortune-hunters, and hadwithered in the shell of his suspicion and distrust for so many years,but to become the good man's tool and plaything. With the happiness ofthis conviction painted on his face, the architect went forth upon hismorning walk.

  The summer weather in his bosom was reflected in the breast of Nature.Through deep green vistas where the boughs arched overhead, and showedthe sunlight flashing in the beautiful perspective; through dewy fernfrom which the startled hares leaped up, and fled at his approach; bymantled pools, and fallen trees, and down in hollow places, rustlingamong last year's leaves whose scent woke memory of the past; the placidPecksniff strolled. By meadow gates and hedges fragrant with wild roses;and by thatched-roof cottages whose inmates humbly bowed before him asa man both good and wise; the worthy Pecksniff walked in tranquilmeditation. The bee passed onward, humming of the work he had to do;the idle gnats for ever going round and round in one contracting andexpanding ring, yet always going on as fast as he, danced merrily beforehim; the colour of the long grass came and went, as if the light cloudsmade it timid as they floated through the distant air. The birds,so many Pecksniff consciences, sang gayly upon every branch; and MrPecksniff paid HIS homage to the day by ruminating on his projects as hewalked along.

  Chancing to trip, in his abstraction, over the spreading root of an oldtree, he raised his pious eyes to take a survey of the ground beforehim. It startled him to see the embodied image of his thoughts not farahead. Mary herself. And alone.

  At first Mr Pecksniff stopped as if with the intention of avoidingher; but his next impulse was to advance, which he did at a brisk pace;caroling as he went so sweetly and with so much innocence that he onlywanted feathers and wings to be a bird.

  Hearing notes behind her, not belonging to the songsters of the grove,she looked round. Mr Pecksniff kissed his hand, and was at her sideimmediately.

  'Communing with nature?' said Mr Pecksniff. 'So am I.'

  She said the morning was so beautiful that she had walked further thanshe intended, and would return. Mr Pecksniff said it was exactly hiscase, and he would return with her.

  'Take my arm, sweet girl,' said Mr Pecksniff.

  Mary declined it, and walked so very fast that he remonstrated. 'Youwere loitering when I came upon you,' Mr Pecksniff said. 'Why be socruel as to hurry now? You would not shun me, would you?'

  'Yes, I would,' she answered, turning her glowing cheek indignantlyupon him, 'you know I would. Release me, Mr Pecksniff. Your touch isdisagreeable to me.'

  His touch! What? That chaste patriarchal touch which Mrs Todgers--surelya discreet lady--had endured, not only without complaint, but withapparent satisfaction! This was positively wrong. Mr Pecksniff was sorryto hear her say it.

  'If you have not observed,' said Mary, 'tha
t it is so, pray takeassurance from my lips, and do not, as you are a gentleman, continue tooffend me.'

  'Well, well!' said Mr Pecksniff, mildly, 'I feel that I might considerthis becoming in a daughter of my own, and why should I object to itin one so beautiful! It's harsh. It cuts me to the soul,' said MrPecksniff; 'but I cannot quarrel with you, Mary.'

  She tried to say she was sorry to hear it, but burst into tears. MrPecksniff now repeated the Todgers performance on a comfortable scale,as if he intended it to last some time; and in his disengaged hand,catching hers, employed himself in separating the fingers with his own,and sometimes kissing them, as he pursued the conversation thus:

  'I am glad we met. I am very glad we met. I am able now to ease mybosom of a heavy load, and speak to you in confidence. Mary,' said MrPecksniff in his tenderest tones, indeed they were so very tender thathe almost squeaked: 'My soul! I love you!'

  A fantastic thing, that maiden affectation! She made believe to shudder.

  'I love you,' said Mr Pecksniff, 'my gentle life, with a devotion whichis quite surprising, even to myself. I did suppose that the sensationwas buried in the silent tomb of a lady, only second to you in qualitiesof the mind and form; but I find I am mistaken.'

  She tried to disengage her hand, but might as well have tried to freeherself from the embrace of an affectionate boa-constrictor; if anythingso wily may be brought into comparison with Pecksniff.

  'Although I am a widower,' said Mr Pecksniff, examining the rings uponher fingers, and tracing the course of one delicate blue vein with hisfat thumb, 'a widower with two daughters, still I am not encumbered,my love. One of them, as you know, is married. The other, by her owndesire, but with a view, I will confess--why not?--to my altering mycondition, is about to leave her father's house. I have a character,I hope. People are pleased to speak well of me, I think. My personand manner are not absolutely those of a monster, I trust. Ah! naughtyHand!' said Mr Pecksniff, apostrophizing the reluctant prize, 'why didyou take me prisoner? Go, go!'

  He slapped the hand to punish it; but relenting, folded it in hiswaistcoat to comfort it again.

  'Blessed in each other, and in the society of our venerable friend, mydarling,' said Mr Pecksniff, 'we shall be happy. When he is wafted to ahaven of rest, we will console each other. My pretty primrose, what doyou say?'

  'It is possible,' Mary answered, in a hurried manner, 'that I ought tofeel grateful for this mark of your confidence. I cannot say that I do,but I am willing to suppose you may deserve my thanks. Take them; andpray leave me, Mr Pecksniff.'

  The good man smiled a greasy smile; and drew her closer to him.

  'Pray, pray release me, Mr Pecksniff. I cannot listen to your proposal.I cannot receive it. There are many to whom it may be acceptable, but itis not so to me. As an act of kindness and an act of pity, leave me!'

  Mr Pecksniff walked on with his arm round her waist, and her hand inhis, as contentedly as if they had been all in all to each other, andwere joined in the bonds of truest love.

  'If you force me by your superior strength,' said Mary, who finding thatgood words had not the least effect upon him, made no further effort tosuppress her indignation; 'if you force me by your superior strengthto accompany you back, and to be the subject of your insolence upon theway, you cannot constrain the expression of my thoughts. I hold you inthe deepest abhorrence. I know your real nature and despise it.'

  'No, no,' said Mr Pecksniff, sweetly. 'No, no, no!'

  'By what arts or unhappy chances you have gained your influence overMr Chuzzlewit, I do not know,' said Mary; 'it may be strong enough tosoften even this, but he shall know of this, trust me, sir.'

  Mr Pecksniff raised his heavy eyelids languidly, and let them fallagain. It was saying with perfect coolness, 'Aye, aye! Indeed!'

  'Is it not enough,' said Mary, 'that you warp and change his nature,adapt his every prejudice to your bad ends, and harden a heart naturallykind by shutting out the truth and allowing none but false and distortedviews to reach it; is it not enough that you have the power of doingthis, and that you exercise it, but must you also be so coarse, socruel, and so cowardly to me?'

  Still Mr Pecksniff led her calmly on, and looked as mild as any lambthat ever pastured in the fields.

  'Will nothing move you, sir?' cried Mary.

  'My dear,' observed Mr Pecksniff, with a placid leer, 'a habit ofself-examination, and the practice of--shall I say of virtue?'

  'Of hypocrisy,' said Mary.

  'No, no,' resumed Mr Pecksniff, chafing the captive hand reproachfully,'of virtue--have enabled me to set such guards upon myself, that itis really difficult to ruffle me. It is a curious fact, but it isdifficult, do you know, for any one to ruffle me. And did she think,'said Mr Pecksniff, with a playful tightening of his grasp 'that SHEcould! How little did she know his heart!'

  Little, indeed! Her mind was so strangely constituted that she wouldhave preferred the caresses of a toad, an adder, or a serpent--nay, thehug of a bear--to the endearments of Mr Pecksniff.

  'Come, come,' said that good gentleman, 'a word or two will set thismatter right, and establish a pleasant understanding between us. I amnot angry, my love.'

  'YOU angry!'

  'No,' said Mr Pecksniff, 'I am not. I say so. Neither are you.'

  There was a beating heart beneath his hand that told another storythough.

  'I am sure you are not,' said Mr Pecksniff: 'and I will tell you why.There are two Martin Chuzzlewits, my dear; and your carrying your angerto one might have a serious effect--who knows!--upon the other. Youwouldn't wish to hurt him, would you?'

  She trembled violently, and looked at him with such a proud disdain thathe turned his eyes away. No doubt lest he should be offended with her inspite of his better self.

  'A passive quarrel, my love,' said Mr Pecksniff, 'may be changed intoan active one, remember. It would be sad to blight even a disinheritedyoung man in his already blighted prospects; but how easy to do it.Ah, how easy! HAVE I influence with our venerable friend, do you think?Well, perhaps I have. Perhaps I have.'

  He raised his eyes to hers; and nodded with an air of banter that wascharming.

  'No,' he continued, thoughtfully. 'Upon the whole, my sweet, if I wereyou I'd keep my secret to myself. I am not at all sure--very far fromit--that it would surprise our friend in any way, for he and I have hadsome conversation together only this morning, and he is anxious, veryanxious, to establish you in some more settled manner. But whether hewas surprised or not surprised, the consequence of your impartingit might be the same. Martin junior might suffer severely. I'd havecompassion on Martin junior, do you know?' said Mr Pecksniff, with apersuasive smile. 'Yes. He don't deserve it, but I would.'

  She wept so bitterly now, and was so much distressed, that he thought itprudent to unclasp her waist, and hold her only by the hand.

  'As to our own share in the precious little mystery,' said Mr Pecksniff,'we will keep it to ourselves, and talk of it between ourselves, andyou shall think it over. You will consent, my love; you will consent,I know. Whatever you may think; you will. I seem to remember to haveheard--I really don't know where, or how'--he added, with bewitchingfrankness, 'that you and Martin junior, when you were children, had asort of childish fondness for each other. When we are married, you shallhave the satisfaction of thinking that it didn't last to ruin him, butpassed away to do him good; for we'll see then what we can do to putsome trifling help in Martin junior's way. HAVE I any influence with ourvenerable friend? Well! Perhaps I have. Perhaps I have.'

  The outlet from the wood in which these tender passages occurred, wasclose to Mr Pecksniff's house. They were now so near it that he stopped,and holding up her little finger, said in playful accents, as a partingfancy:

  'Shall I bite it?'

  Receiving no reply he kissed it instead; and then stooping down,inclined his flabby face to hers--he had a flabby face, although heWAS a good man--and with a blessing, which from such a source was quiteenough to set her up in life, and prosper he
r from that time forthpermitted her to leave him.

  Gallantry in its true sense is supposed to ennoble and dignify aman; and love has shed refinements on innumerable Cymons. But MrPecksniff--perhaps because to one of his exalted nature these were meregrossnesses--certainly did not appear to any unusual advantage, now thathe was left alone. On the contrary, he seemed to be shrunk and reduced;to be trying to hide himself within himself; and to be wretched at nothaving the power to do it. His shoes looked too large; his sleeve lookedtoo long; his hair looked too limp; his features looked too mean; hisexposed throat looked as if a halter would have done it good. For aminute or two, in fact, he was hot, and pale, and mean, and shy, andslinking, and consequently not at all Pecksniffian. But after that, herecovered himself, and went home with as beneficent an air as if he hadbeen the High Priest of the summer weather.

  'I have arranged to go, Papa,' said Charity, 'to-morrow.'

  'So soon, my child!'

  'I can't go too soon,' said Charity, 'under the circumstances. I havewritten to Mrs Todgers to propose an arrangement, and have requested herto meet me at the coach, at all events. You'll be quite your own masternow, Mr Pinch!'

  Mr Pecksniff had just gone out of the room, and Tom had just come intoit.

  'My own master!' repeated Tom.

  'Yes, you'll have nobody to interfere with you,' said Charity. 'At leastI hope you won't. Hem! It's a changing world.'

  'What! are YOU going to be married, Miss Pecksniff?' asked Tom in greatsurprise.

  'Not exactly,' faltered Cherry. 'I haven't made up my mind to be. Ibelieve I could be, if I chose, Mr Pinch.'

  'Of course you could!' said Tom. And he said it in perfect good faith.He believed it from the bottom of his heart.

  'No,' said Cherry, 'I am not going to be married. Nobody is, that I knowof. Hem! But I am not going to live with Papa. I have my reasons, butit's all a secret. I shall always feel very kindly towards you, I assureyou, for the boldness you showed that night. As to you and me, Mr Pinch,WE part the best friends possible!'

  Tom thanked her for her confidence, and for her friendship, but therewas a mystery in the former which perfectly bewildered him. In hisextravagant devotion to the family, he had felt the loss of Merry morethan any one but those who knew that for all the slights he underwent hethought his own demerits were to blame, could possibly have understood.He had scarcely reconciled himself to that when here was Charity aboutto leave them. She had grown up, as it were, under Tom's eye.The sisters were a part of Pecksniff, and a part of Tom; items inPecksniff's goodness, and in Tom's service. He couldn't bear it; not twohours' sleep had Tom that night, through dwelling in his bed upon thesedreadful changes.

  When morning dawned he thought he must have dreamed this piece ofambiguity; but no, on going downstairs he found them packing trunksand cording boxes, and making other preparations for Miss Charity'sdeparture, which lasted all day long. In good time for the eveningcoach, Miss Charity deposited her housekeeping keys with much ceremonyupon the parlour table; took a gracious leave of all the house; andquitted her paternal roof--a blessing for which the Pecksniffian servantwas observed by some profane persons to be particularly active in thethanksgiving at church next Sunday.