Martin Chuzzlewit

  CHAPTER SIX

  COMPRISES, AMONG OTHER IMPORTANT MATTERS, PECKSNIFFIAN ANDARCHITECTURAL, AND EXACT RELATION OF THE PROGRESS MADE BY MR PINCH INTHE CONFIDENCE AND FRIENDSHIP OF THE NEW PUPIL

  It was morning; and the beautiful Aurora, of whom so much hath beenwritten, said, and sung, did, with her rosy fingers, nip and tweak MissPecksniff's nose. It was the frolicsome custom of the Goddess, in herintercourse with the fair Cherry, so to do; or in more prosaic phrase,the tip of that feature in the sweet girl's countenance was alwaysvery red at breakfast-time. For the most part, indeed, it wore, at thatseason of the day, a scraped and frosty look, as if it had been rasped;while a similar phenomenon developed itself in her humour, which wasthen observed to be of a sharp and acid quality, as though an extralemon (figuratively speaking) had been squeezed into the nectar of herdisposition, and had rather damaged its flavour.

  This additional pungency on the part of the fair young creature led, onordinary occasions, to such slight consequences as the copious dilutionof Mr Pinch's tea, or to his coming off uncommonly short in respectof butter, or to other the like results. But on the morning after theInstallation Banquet, she suffered him to wander to and fro among theeatables and drinkables, a perfectly free and unchecked man; so utterlyto Mr Pinch's wonder and confusion, that like the wretched captive whorecovered his liberty in his old age, he could make but little use ofhis enlargement, and fell into a strange kind of flutter for want ofsome kind hand to scrape his bread, and cut him off in the article ofsugar with a lump, and pay him those other little attentions to whichhe was accustomed. There was something almost awful, too, about theself-possession of the new pupil; who 'troubled' Mr Pecksniff for theloaf, and helped himself to a rasher of that gentleman's own particularand private bacon, with all the coolness in life. He even seemed tothink that he was doing quite a regular thing, and to expect that MrPinch would follow his example, since he took occasion to observe ofthat young man 'that he didn't get on'; a speech of so tremendous acharacter, that Tom cast down his eyes involuntarily, and felt as ifhe himself had committed some horrible deed and heinous breach of MrPecksniff's confidence. Indeed, the agony of having such an indiscreetremark addressed to him before the assembled family, was breakfastenough in itself, and would, without any other matter of reflection,have settled Mr Pinch's business and quenched his appetite, for onemeal, though he had been never so hungry.

  The young ladies, however, and Mr Pecksniff likewise, remained inthe very best of spirits in spite of these severe trials, though withsomething of a mysterious understanding among themselves. When the mealwas nearly over, Mr Pecksniff smilingly explained the cause of theircommon satisfaction.

  'It is not often,' he said, 'Martin, that my daughters and I desert ourquiet home to pursue the giddy round of pleasures that revolves abroad.But we think of doing so to-day.'

  'Indeed, sir!' cried the new pupil.

  'Yes,' said Mr Pecksniff, tapping his left hand with a letter whichhe held in his right. 'I have a summons here to repair to London;on professional business, my dear Martin; strictly on professionalbusiness; and I promised my girls, long ago, that whenever that happenedagain, they should accompany me. We shall go forth to-night by theheavy coach--like the dove of old, my dear Martin--and it will be a weekbefore we again deposit our olive-branches in the passage. When I sayolive-branches,' observed Mr Pecksniff, in explanation, 'I mean, ourunpretending luggage.'

  'I hope the young ladies will enjoy their trip,' said Martin.

  'Oh! that I'm sure we shall!' cried Mercy, clapping her hands. 'Goodgracious, Cherry, my darling, the idea of London!'

  'Ardent child!' said Mr Pecksniff, gazing on her in a dreamy way. 'Andyet there is a melancholy sweetness in these youthful hopes! It ispleasant to know that they never can be realised. I remember thinkingonce myself, in the days of my childhood, that pickled onions grew ontrees, and that every elephant was born with an impregnable castle onhis back. I have not found the fact to be so; far from it; and yet thosevisions have comforted me under circumstances of trial. Even when I havehad the anguish of discovering that I have nourished in my breast onostrich, and not a human pupil--even in that hour of agony, they havesoothed me.'

  At this dread allusion to John Westlock, Mr Pinch precipitately chokedin his tea; for he had that very morning received a letter from him, asMr Pecksniff very well knew.

  'You will take care, my dear Martin,' said Mr Pecksniff, resuming hisformer cheerfulness, 'that the house does not run away in our absence.We leave you in charge of everything. There is no mystery; all is freeand open. Unlike the young man in the Eastern tale--who is described asa one-eyed almanac, if I am not mistaken, Mr Pinch?--'

  'A one-eyed calender, I think, sir,' faltered Tom.

  'They are pretty nearly the same thing, I believe,' said Mr Pecksniff,smiling compassionately; 'or they used to be in my time. Unlike thatyoung man, my dear Martin, you are forbidden to enter no corner of thishouse; but are requested to make yourself perfectly at home in everypart of it. You will be jovial, my dear Martin, and will kill the fattedcalf if you please!'

  There was not the least objection, doubtless, to the young man'sslaughtering and appropriating to his own use any calf, fat or lean,that he might happen to find upon the premises; but as no such animalchanced at that time to be grazing on Mr Pecksniff's estate, thisrequest must be considered rather as a polite compliment thata substantial hospitality. It was the finishing ornament of theconversation; for when he had delivered it, Mr Pecksniff rose and ledthe way to that hotbed of architectural genius, the two-pair front.

  'Let me see,' he said, searching among the papers, 'how you can bestemploy yourself, Martin, while I am absent. Suppose you were to giveme your idea of a monument to a Lord Mayor of London; or a tomb for asheriff; or your notion of a cow-house to be erected in a nobleman'spark. Do you know, now,' said Mr Pecksniff, folding his hands, andlooking at his young relation with an air of pensive interest, 'that Ishould very much like to see your notion of a cow-house?'

  But Martin by no means appeared to relish this suggestion.

  'A pump,' said Mr Pecksniff, 'is very chaste practice. I have found thata lamp post is calculated to refine the mind and give it a classicaltendency. An ornamental turnpike has a remarkable effect upon theimagination. What do you say to beginning with an ornamental turnpike?'

  'Whatever Mr Pecksniff pleased,' said Martin, doubtfully.

  'Stay,' said that gentleman. 'Come! as you're ambitious, and are a veryneat draughtsman, you shall--ha ha!--you shall try your hand on theseproposals for a grammar-school; regulating your plan, of course, by theprinted particulars. Upon my word, now,' said Mr Pecksniff, merrily, 'Ishall be very curious to see what you make of the grammar-school.Who knows but a young man of your taste might hit upon something,impracticable and unlikely in itself, but which I could put into shape?For it really is, my dear Martin, it really is in the finishing touchesalone, that great experience and long study in these matters tell. Ha,ha, ha! Now it really will be,' continued Mr Pecksniff, clapping hisyoung friend on the back in his droll humour, 'an amusement to me, tosee what you make of the grammar-school.'

  Martin readily undertook this task, and Mr Pecksniff forthwith proceededto entrust him with the materials necessary for its execution; dwellingmeanwhile on the magical effect of a few finishing touches from the handof a master; which, indeed, as some people said (and these were theold enemies again!) was unquestionably very surprising, and almostmiraculous; as there were cases on record in which the masterlyintroduction of an additional back window, or a kitchen door, orhalf-a-dozen steps, or even a water spout, had made the design of apupil Mr Pecksniff's own work, and had brought substantial rewards intothat gentleman's pocket. But such is the magic of genius, which changesall it handles into gold!

  'When your mind requires to be refreshed by change of occupation,' saidMr Pecksniff, 'Thomas Pinch will instruct you in the art of surveyingthe back garden, or in ascertaining the dead level of the road betweenthis house and the
finger-post, or in any other practical and pleasingpursuit. There are a cart-load of loose bricks, and a score or two ofold flower-pots, in the back yard. If you could pile them up my dearMartin, into any form which would remind me on my return say of St.Peter's at Rome, or the Mosque of St. Sophia at Constantinople, it wouldbe at once improving to you and agreeable to my feelings. And now,' saidMr Pecksniff, in conclusion, 'to drop, for the present, our professionalrelations and advert to private matters, I shall be glad to talk withyou in my own room, while I pack up my portmanteau.'

  Martin attended him; and they remained in secret conference together foran hour or more; leaving Tom Pinch alone. When the young man returned,he was very taciturn and dull, in which state he remained all day; sothat Tom, after trying him once or twice with indifferent conversation,felt a delicacy in obtruding himself upon his thoughts, and said nomore.

  He would not have had leisure to say much, had his new friend been everso loquacious; for first of all Mr Pecksniff called him down to standupon the top of his portmanteau and represent ancient statues there,until such time as it would consent to be locked; and then Miss Charitycalled him to come and cord her trunk; and then Miss Mercy sent for himto come and mend her box; and then he wrote the fullest possible cardsfor all the luggage; and then he volunteered to carry it all downstairs;and after that to see it safely carried on a couple of barrows to theold finger-post at the end of the lane; and then to mind it till thecoach came up. In short, his day's work would have been a pretty heavyone for a porter, but his thorough good-will made nothing of it; and ashe sat upon the luggage at last, waiting for the Pecksniffs, escorted bythe new pupil, to come down the lane, his heart was light with the hopeof having pleased his benefactor.

  'I was almost afraid,' said Tom, taking a letter from his pocket andwiping his face, for he was hot with bustling about though it was a coldday, 'that I shouldn't have had time to write it, and that would havebeen a thousand pities; postage from such a distance being a seriousconsideration, when one's not rich. She will be glad to see my hand,poor girl, and to hear that Pecksniff is as kind as ever. I would haveasked John Westlock to call and see her, and tell her all about me byword of mouth, but I was afraid he might speak against Pecksniff to her,and make her uneasy. Besides, they are particular people where she is,and it might have rendered her situation uncomfortable if she had had avisit from a young man like John. Poor Ruth!'

  Tom Pinch seemed a little disposed to be melancholy for half a minute orso, but he found comfort very soon, and pursued his ruminations thus:

  'I'm a nice man, I don't think, as John used to say (John was a kind,merry-hearted fellow; I wish he had liked Pecksniff better), to befeeling low, on account of the distance between us, when I ought tobe thinking, instead, of my extraordinary good luck in having ever gothere. I must have been born with a silver spoon in my mouth, I am sure,to have ever come across Pecksniff. And here have I fallen again intomy usual good luck with the new pupil! Such an affable, generous, freefellow, as he is, I never saw. Why, we were companions directly! and hea relation of Pecksniff's too, and a clever, dashing youth who might cuthis way through the world as if it were a cheese! Here he comes whilethe words are on my lips' said Tom; 'walking down the lane as if thelane belonged to him.'

  In truth, the new pupil, not at all disconcerted by the honour of havingMiss Mercy Pecksniff on his arm, or by the affectionate adieux of thatyoung lady, approached as Mr Pinch spoke, followed by Miss Charity andMr Pecksniff. As the coach appeared at the same moment, Tom lost no timein entreating the gentleman last mentioned, to undertake the delivery ofhis letter.

  'Oh!' said Mr Pecksniff, glancing at the superscription. 'For yoursister, Thomas. Yes, oh yes, it shall be delivered, Mr Pinch. Make yourmind easy upon that score. She shall certainly have it, Mr Pinch.'

  He made the promise with so much condescension and patronage, thatTom felt he had asked a great deal (this had not occurred to his mindbefore), and thanked him earnestly. The Miss Pecksniffs, according toa custom they had, were amused beyond description at the mention ofMr Pinch's sister. Oh the fright! The bare idea of a Miss Pinch! Goodheavens!

  Tom was greatly pleased to see them so merry, for he took it as a tokenof their favour, and good-humoured regard. Therefore he laughed too andrubbed his hands and wished them a pleasant journey and safe return,and was quite brisk. Even when the coach had rolled away with theolive-branches in the boot and the family of doves inside, he stoodwaving his hand and bowing; so much gratified by the unusually courteousdemeanour of the young ladies, that he was quite regardless, for themoment, of Martin Chuzzlewit, who stood leaning thoughtfully againstthe finger-post, and who after disposing of his fair charge had hardlylifted his eyes from the ground.

  The perfect silence which ensued upon the bustle and departure of thecoach, together with the sharp air of the wintry afternoon, roused themboth at the same time. They turned, as by mutual consent, and moved offarm-in-arm.

  'How melancholy you are!' said Tom; 'what is the matter?'

  'Nothing worth speaking of,' said Martin. 'Very little more than wasthe matter yesterday, and much more, I hope, than will be the matterto-morrow. I'm out of spirits, Pinch.'

  'Well,' cried Tom, 'now do you know I am in capital spirits today, andscarcely ever felt more disposed to be good company. It was a very kindthing in your predecessor, John, to write to me, was it not?'

  'Why, yes,' said Martin carelessly; 'I should have thought he would havehad enough to do to enjoy himself, without thinking of you, Pinch.'

  'Just what I felt to be so very likely,' Tom rejoined; 'but no, he keepshis word, and says, "My dear Pinch, I often think of you," and all sortsof kind and considerate things of that description.'

  'He must be a devilish good-natured fellow,' said Martin, somewhatpeevishly: 'because he can't mean that, you know.'

  'I don't suppose he can, eh?' said Tom, looking wistfully in hiscompanion's face. 'He says so to please me, you think?'

  'Why, is it likely,' rejoined Martin, with greater earnestness, 'thata young man newly escaped from this kennel of a place, and fresh to allthe delights of being his own master in London, can have much leisureor inclination to think favourably of anything or anybody he has leftbehind him here? I put it to you, Pinch, is it natural?'

  After a short reflection, Mr Pinch replied, in a more subdued tone, thatto be sure it was unreasonable to expect any such thing, and that he hadno doubt Martin knew best.

  'Of course I know best,' Martin observed.

  'Yes, I feel that,' said Mr Pinch mildly. 'I said so.' And when he hadmade this rejoinder, they fell into a blank silence again, which lasteduntil they reached home; by which time it was dark.

  Now, Miss Charity Pecksniff, in consideration of the inconvenience ofcarrying them with her in the coach, and the impossibility of preservingthem by artificial means until the family's return, had set forth, in acouple of plates, the fragments of yesterday's feast. In virtue of whichliberal arrangement, they had the happiness to find awaiting them inthe parlour two chaotic heaps of the remains of last night's pleasure,consisting of certain filmy bits of oranges, some mummied sandwiches,various disrupted masses of the geological cake, and several entirecaptain's biscuits. That choice liquor in which to steep these daintiesmight not be wanting, the remains of the two bottles of currant winehad been poured together and corked with a curl-paper; so that everymaterial was at hand for making quite a heavy night of it.

  Martin Chuzzlewit beheld these roystering preparations with infinitecontempt, and stirring the fire into a blaze (to the great destructionof Mr Pecksniff's coals), sat moodily down before it, in the mostcomfortable chair he could find. That he might the better squeezehimself into the small corner that was left for him, Mr Pinch took uphis position on Miss Mercy Pecksniff's stool, and setting his glass downupon the hearthrug and putting his plate upon his knees, began to enjoyhimself.

  If Diogenes coming to life again could have rolled himself, tub and all,into Mr Pecksniff's parlour and could have see
n Tom Pinch as he sat onMercy Pecksniff's stool with his plate and glass before him he couldnot have faced it out, though in his surliest mood, but must havesmiled good-temperedly. The perfect and entire satisfaction of Tom; hissurpassing appreciation of the husky sandwiches, which crumbled in hismouth like saw-dust; the unspeakable relish with which he swallowed thethin wine by drops, and smacked his lips, as though it were so rich andgenerous that to lose an atom of its fruity flavour were a sin; the lookwith which he paused sometimes, with his glass in his hand, proposingsilent toasts to himself; and the anxious shade that came upon hiscontented face when, after wandering round the room, exulting inits uninvaded snugness, his glance encountered the dull brow of hiscompanion; no cynic in the world, though in his hatred of its men a verygriffin, could have withstood these things in Thomas Pinch.

  Some men would have slapped him on the back, and pledged him in a bumperof the currant wine, though it had been the sharpest vinegar--aye, andliked its flavour too; some would have seized him by his honest hand,and thanked him for the lesson that his simple nature taught them. Somewould have laughed with, and others would have laughed at him; of whichlast class was Martin Chuzzlewit, who, unable to restrain himself, atlast laughed loud and long.

  'That's right,' said Tom, nodding approvingly. 'Cheer up! That'scapital!'

  At which encouragement young Martin laughed again; and said, as soon ashe had breath and gravity enough:

  'I never saw such a fellow as you are, Pinch.'

  'Didn't you though?' said Tom. 'Well, it's very likely you do find mestrange, because I have hardly seen anything of the world, and you haveseen a good deal I dare say?'

  'Pretty well for my time of life,' rejoined Martin, drawing his chairstill nearer to the fire, and spreading his feet out on the fender.'Deuce take it, I must talk openly to somebody. I'll talk openly to you,Pinch.'

  'Do!' said Tom. 'I shall take it as being very friendly of you,'

  'I'm not in your way, am I?' inquired Martin, glancing down at Mr Pinch,who was by this time looking at the fire over his leg.

  'Not at all!' cried Tom.

  'You must know then, to make short of a long story,' said Martin,beginning with a kind of effort, as if the revelation were notagreeable to him; 'that I have been bred up from childhood with greatexpectations, and have always been taught to believe that I should be,one day, very rich. So I should have been, but for certain briefreasons which I am going to tell you, and which have led to my beingdisinherited.'

  'By your father?' inquired Mr Pinch, with open eyes.

  'By my grandfather. I have had no parents these many years. Scarcelywithin my remembrance.'

  'Neither have I,' said Tom, touching the young man's hand with his ownand timidly withdrawing it again. 'Dear me!'

  'Why, as to that, you know, Pinch,' pursued the other, stirring the fireagain, and speaking in his rapid, off-hand way; 'it's all very rightand proper to be fond of parents when we have them, and to bear them inremembrance after they're dead, if you have ever known anything of them.But as I never did know anything about mine personally, you know, why, Ican't be expected to be very sentimental about 'em. And I am not; that'sthe truth.'

  Mr Pinch was just then looking thoughtfully at the bars. But onhis companion pausing in this place, he started, and said 'Oh! ofcourse'--and composed himself to listen again.

  'In a word,' said Martin, 'I have been bred and reared all my life bythis grandfather of whom I have just spoken. Now, he has a great manygood points--there is no doubt about that; I'll not disguise the factfrom you--but he has two very great faults, which are the staple of hisbad side. In the first place, he has the most confirmed obstinacy ofcharacter you ever met with in any human creature. In the second, he ismost abominably selfish.'

  'Is he indeed?' cried Tom.

  'In those two respects,' returned the other, 'there never was such aman. I have often heard from those who know, that they have been, timeout of mind, the failings of our family; and I believe there's sometruth in it. But I can't say of my own knowledge. All I have to do, youknow, is to be very thankful that they haven't descended to me, and, tobe very careful that I don't contract 'em.'

  'To be sure,' said Mr Pinch. 'Very proper.'

  'Well, sir,' resumed Martin, stirring the fire once more, and drawinghis chair still closer to it, 'his selfishness makes him exacting,you see; and his obstinacy makes him resolute in his exactions. Theconsequence is that he has always exacted a great deal from me in theway of respect, and submission, and self-denial when his wishes were inquestion, and so forth. I have borne a great deal from him, because Ihave been under obligations to him (if one can ever be said to be underobligations to one's own grandfather), and because I have been reallyattached to him; but we have had a great many quarrels for all that, forI could not accommodate myself to his ways very often--not out of theleast reference to myself, you understand, but because--' he stammeredhere, and was rather at a loss.

  Mr Pinch being about the worst man in the world to help anybody out of adifficulty of this sort, said nothing.

  'Well! as you understand me,' resumed Martin, quickly, 'I needn't huntfor the precise expression I want. Now I come to the cream of my story,and the occasion of my being here. I am in love, Pinch.'

  Mr Pinch looked up into his face with increased interest.

  'I say I am in love. I am in love with one of the most beautiful girlsthe sun ever shone upon. But she is wholly and entirely dependent uponthe pleasure of my grandfather; and if he were to know that she favouredmy passion, she would lose her home and everything she possesses in theworld. There is nothing very selfish in THAT love, I think?'

  'Selfish!' cried Tom. 'You have acted nobly. To love her as I am sureyou do, and yet in consideration for her state of dependence, not evento disclose--'

  'What are you talking about, Pinch?' said Martin pettishly: 'don'tmake yourself ridiculous, my good fellow! What do you mean by notdisclosing?'

  'I beg your pardon,' answered Tom. 'I thought you meant that, or Iwouldn't have said it.'

  'If I didn't tell her I loved her, where would be the use of my being inlove?' said Martin: 'unless to keep myself in a perpetual state of worryand vexation?'

  'That's true,' Tom answered. 'Well! I can guess what SHE said when youtold her,' he added, glancing at Martin's handsome face.

  'Why, not exactly, Pinch,' he rejoined, with a slight frown; 'becauseshe has some girlish notions about duty and gratitude, and all the restof it, which are rather hard to fathom; but in the main you are right.Her heart was mine, I found.'

  'Just what I supposed,' said Tom. 'Quite natural!' and, in his greatsatisfaction, he took a long sip out of his wine-glass.

  'Although I had conducted myself from the first with the utmostcircumspection,' pursued Martin, 'I had not managed matters so well butthat my grandfather, who is full of jealousy and distrust, suspected meof loving her. He said nothing to her, but straightway attacked mein private, and charged me with designing to corrupt the fidelity tohimself (there you observe his selfishness), of a young creature whomhe had trained and educated to be his only disinterested and faithfulcompanion, when he should have disposed of me in marriage to his heart'scontent. Upon that, I took fire immediately, and told him that with hisgood leave I would dispose of myself in marriage, and would rathernot be knocked down by him or any other auctioneer to any bidderwhomsoever.'

  Mr Pinch opened his eyes wider, and looked at the fire harder than hehad done yet.

  'You may be sure,' said Martin, 'that this nettled him, and that hebegan to be the very reverse of complimentary to myself. Interviewsucceeded interview; words engendered words, as they always do; and theupshot of it was, that I was to renounce her, or be renounced by him.Now you must bear in mind, Pinch, that I am not only desperately fondof her (for though she is poor, her beauty and intellect would reflectgreat credit on anybody, I don't care of what pretensions who mightbecome her husband), but that a chief ingredient in my composition is amost determined--'

&nb
sp; 'Obstinacy,' suggested Tom in perfect good faith. But the suggestion wasnot so well received as he had expected; for the young man immediatelyrejoined, with some irritation,

  'What a fellow you are, Pinch!'

  'I beg your pardon,' said Tom, 'I thought you wanted a word.'

  'I didn't want that word,' he rejoined. 'I told you obstinacy was nopart of my character, did I not? I was going to say, if you had givenme leave, that a chief ingredient in my composition is a most determinedfirmness.'

  'Oh!' cried Tom, screwing up his mouth, and nodding. 'Yes, yes; I see!'

  'And being firm,' pursued Martin, 'of course I was not going to yield tohim, or give way by so much as the thousandth part of an inch.'

  'No, no,' said Tom.

  'On the contrary, the more he urged, the more I was determined to opposehim.'

  'To be sure!' said Tom.

  'Very well,' rejoined Martin, throwing himself back in his chair, witha careless wave of both hands, as if the subject were quite settled, andnothing more could be said about it--'There is an end of the matter, andhere am I!'

  Mr Pinch sat staring at the fire for some minutes with a puzzled look,such as he might have assumed if some uncommonly difficult conundrum hadbeen proposed, which he found it impossible to guess. At length he said:

  'Pecksniff, of course, you had known before?'

  'Only by name. No, I had never seen him, for my grandfather kept notonly himself but me, aloof from all his relations. But our separationtook place in a town in the adjoining country. From that place I came toSalisbury, and there I saw Pecksniff's advertisement, which I answered,having always had some natural taste, I believe, in the matters to whichit referred, and thinking it might suit me. As soon as I found it to behis, I was doubly bent on coming to him if possible, on account of hisbeing--'

  'Such an excellent man,' interposed Tom, rubbing his hands: 'so he is.You were quite right.'

  'Why, not so much on that account, if the truth must be spoken,'returned Martin, 'as because my grandfather has an inveterate dislike tohim, and after the old man's arbitrary treatment of me, I had a naturaldesire to run as directly counter to all his opinions as I could. Well!As I said before, here I am. My engagement with the young lady I havebeen telling you about is likely to be a tolerably long one; for neitherher prospects nor mine are very bright; and of course I shall not thinkof marrying until I am well able to do so. It would never do, you know,for me to be plunging myself into poverty and shabbiness and love in oneroom up three pair of stairs, and all that sort of thing.'

  'To say nothing of her,' remarked Tom Pinch, in a low voice.

  'Exactly so,' rejoined Martin, rising to warm his back, and leaningagainst the chimney-piece. 'To say nothing of her. At the same time,of course it's not very hard upon her to be obliged to yield to thenecessity of the case; first, because she loves me very much; andsecondly, because I have sacrificed a great deal on her account, andmight have done much better, you know.'

  It was a very long time before Tom said 'Certainly;' so long, that hemight have taken a nap in the interval, but he did say it at last.

  'Now, there is one odd coincidence connected with this love-story,' saidMartin, 'which brings it to an end. You remember what you told me lastnight as we were coming here, about your pretty visitor in the church?'

  'Surely I do,' said Tom, rising from his stool, and seating himself inthe chair from which the other had lately risen, that he might see hisface. 'Undoubtedly.'

  'That was she.'

  'I knew what you were going to say,' cried Tom, looking fixedly at him,and speaking very softly. 'You don't tell me so?'

  'That was she,' repeated the young man. 'After what I have heardfrom Pecksniff, I have no doubt that she came and went with mygrandfather.--Don't you drink too much of that sour wine, or you'll havea fit of some sort, Pinch, I see.'

  'It is not very wholesome, I am afraid,' said Tom, setting down theempty glass he had for some time held. 'So that was she, was it?'

  Martin nodded assent; and adding, with a restless impatience, that ifhe had been a few days earlier he would have seen her; and that now shemight be, for anything he knew, hundreds of miles away; threw himself,after a few turns across the room, into a chair, and chafed like aspoilt child.

  Tom Pinch's heart was very tender, and he could not bear to see themost indifferent person in distress; still less one who had awakenedan interest in him, and who regarded him (either in fact, or as hesupposed) with kindness, and in a spirit of lenient construction.Whatever his own thoughts had been a few moments before--and to judgefrom his face they must have been pretty serious--he dismissed theminstantly, and gave his young friend the best counsel and comfort thatoccurred to him.

  'All will be well in time,' said Tom, 'I have no doubt; and some trialand adversity just now will only serve to make you more attached to eachother in better days. I have always read that the truth is so, and Ihave a feeling within me, which tells me how natural and right it isthat it should be. That never ran smooth yet,' said Tom, with a smilewhich, despite the homeliness of his face, was pleasanter to see thanmany a proud beauty's brightest glance; 'what never ran smooth yet, canhardly be expected to change its character for us; so we must take it aswe find it, and fashion it into the very best shape we can, by patienceand good-humour. I have no power at all; I needn't tell you that; but Ihave an excellent will; and if I could ever be of use to you, in any waywhatever, how very glad I should be!'

  'Thank you,' said Martin, shaking his hand. 'You're a good fellow, uponmy word, and speak very kindly. Of course you know,' he added, after amoment's pause, as he drew his chair towards the fire again, 'I shouldnot hesitate to avail myself of your services if you could help me atall; but mercy on us!'--Here he rumpled his hair impatiently with hishand, and looked at Tom as if he took it rather ill that he was notsomebody else--'you might as well be a toasting-fork or a frying-pan,Pinch, for any help you can render me.'

  'Except in the inclination,' said Tom, gently.

  'Oh! to be sure. I meant that, of course. If inclination went foranything, I shouldn't want help. I tell you what you may do, though, ifyou will, and at the present moment too.'

  'What is that?' demanded Tom.

  'Read to me.'

  'I shall be delighted,' cried Tom, catching up the candle withenthusiasm. 'Excuse my leaving you in the dark a moment, and I'll fetcha book directly. What will you like? Shakespeare?'

  'Aye!' replied his friend, yawning and stretching himself. 'He'll do. Iam tired with the bustle of to-day, and the novelty of everything aboutme; and in such a case, there's no greater luxury in the world, I think,than being read to sleep. You won't mind my going to sleep, if I can?'

  'Not at all!' cried Tom.

  'Then begin as soon as you like. You needn't leave off when you seeme getting drowsy (unless you feel tired), for it's pleasant to wakegradually to the sounds again. Did you ever try that?'

  'No, I never tried that,' said Tom

  'Well! You can, you know, one of these days when we're both in the righthumour. Don't mind leaving me in the dark. Look sharp!'

  Mr Pinch lost no time in moving away; and in a minute or two returnedwith one of the precious volumes from the shelf beside his bed. Martinhad in the meantime made himself as comfortable as circumstances wouldpermit, by constructing before the fire a temporary sofa of three chairswith Mercy's stool for a pillow, and lying down at full-length upon it.

  'Don't be too loud, please,' he said to Pinch.

  'No, no,' said Tom.

  'You're sure you're not cold'

  'Not at all!' cried Tom.

  'I am quite ready, then.'

  Mr Pinch accordingly, after turning over the leaves of his book with asmuch care as if they were living and highly cherished creatures, madehis own selection, and began to read. Before he had completed fiftylines his friend was snoring.

  'Poor fellow!' said Tom, softly, as he stretched out his head to peepat him over the backs of the chairs. 'He is very young to hav
e so muchtrouble. How trustful and generous in him to bestow all this confidencein me. And that was she, was it?'

  But suddenly remembering their compact, he took up the poem at the placewhere he had left off, and went on reading; always forgetting to snuffthe candle, until its wick looked like a mushroom. He gradually becameso much interested, that he quite forgot to replenish the fire; and wasonly reminded of his neglect by Martin Chuzzlewit starting up after thelapse of an hour or so, and crying with a shiver.

  'Why, it's nearly out, I declare! No wonder I dreamed of being frozen.Do call for some coals. What a fellow you are, Pinch!'