An interval ensued, during which Mr. Chuzzlewit, in an absent frame of mind, sat gazing at the ground, without uttering a word; and as it was plain that he had no desire to be interrupted in his meditations, Mr. Pecksniff and his daughters were profoundly silent also. During the whole of the foregoing dialogue, he had borne his part with a cold, passionless promptitude, as though he had learned and painfully rehearsed it all a hundred times.
Even when his expressions were warmest and his language most encouraging, he had retained the same manner, without the least abatement. But now there was a keener brightness in his eye, and more expression in his voice, as he said, awakening from his thoughtful mood:
`You know what will be said of this? Have you reflected?'
`Said of what, my dear sir?' Mr. Pecksniff asked.
`Of this new understanding between us.'
Mr. Pecksniff looked benevolently sagacious, and at the same time far above all earthly misconstruction, as he shook his head, and observed that a great many things would be said of it, no doubt.
`A great many,' rejoined the old man. `Some will say that I dote in my old age; that illness has shaken me; that I have lost all strength of mind, and have grown childish. You can bear that?'
Mr. Pecksniff answered that it would be dreadfully hard to bear, but he thought he could, if he made a great effort.
`Others will say--I speak of disappointed, angry people only--that you have lied and fawned, and wormed yourself through dirty ways into my favour; by such concessions and such crooked deeds, such meannesses and vile endurances, as nothing could repay: no, not the legacy of half the world we live in.
You can bear that?'
Mr. Pecksniff made reply that this would be also very hard to bear, as reflecting, in some degree, on the discernment of Mr. Chuzzlewit. Still he had a modest confidence that he could sustain the calumny, with the help of a good conscience, and that gentleman's friendship.
`With the great mass of slanderers,' said old Martin, leaning back in his chair, `the tale, as I clearly foresee, will run thus: That to mark my contempt for the rabble whom I despised, I chose from among them the very worst, and made him do my will, and pampered and enriched him at the cost of all the rest. That, after casting about for the means of a punishment which should rankle in the bosoms of these kites the most, and strike into their gall, I devised this scheme at a time when the last link in the chain of grateful love and duty, that held me to my race, was roughly snapped asunder; roughly, for I loved him well; roughly, for I had ever put my trust in his affection; roughly, for that he broke it when I loved him most, God help me! and he without a pang could throw me off, while I clung about his heart! Now,' said the old man, dismissing this passionate outburst as suddenly as he had yielded to it, `is your mind made up to bear this likewise? Lay your account with having it to bear, and put no trust in being set right by me.'
`My dear Mr. Chuzzlewit,' cried Pecksniff in an ecstasy, `for such a man as you have shown yourself to be this day; for a man so injured, yet so very humane; for a man so--I am at a loss what precise term to use yet at the same time so remarkably--I don't know how to express my meaning: for such a man as I have described, I hope it is no presumption to say that I, and I am sure I may add my children also (my dears, we perfectly agree in this, I think?), would bear anything whatever!'
`Enough,' said Martin. `You can charge no consequences on me. When do you retire home?'
`Whenever you please, my dear sir. To-night if you desire it.'
`I desire nothing,' returned the old man, `that is unreasonable. Such a request would be. Will you be ready to return at the end of this week?'
The very time of all others that Mr. Pecksniff would have suggested if it had been left to him to make his own choice. As to his daughters the words, `Let us be at home on Saturday, dear pa,' were actually upon their lips.
`Your expenses, cousin,' said Martin, taking a folded slip of paper from his pocket-book, `may possibly exceed that amount. If so, let me know the balance that I owe you, when we next meet. It would be useless if I told you where I live just now: indeed, I have no fixed abode. When I have, you shall know it. You and your daughters may expect to see me before long: in the meantime I need not tell you that we keep our own confidence. What you will do when you get home is understood between us. Give me no account of it at any time; and never refer to it in any way. I ask that as a favour.
I am commonly a man of few words, cousin; and all that need be said just now is said, I think.'
`One glass of wine, one morsel of this homely cake?' cried Mr. Pecksniff, venturing to detain him. `My dears!'
The sisters flew to wait upon him.
`Poor girls!' said Mr. Pecksniff. `You will excuse their agitation, my dear sir. They are made up of feeling. A bad commodity to go through the world with, Mr. Chuzzlewit! My youngest daughter is almost as much of a woman as my eldest, is she not, sir?'
`Which is the youngest?' asked the old man.
`Mercy, by five years,' said Mr. Pecksniff. `We sometimes venture to consider her rather a fine figure, sir. Speaking as an artist, I may perhaps be permitted to suggest that its outline is graceful and correct. I am naturally,' said Mr. Pecksniff, drying his hands upon his handkerchief, and looking anxiously in his cousin's face at almost every word, `proud, if I may use the expression, to have a daughter who is constructed on the best models.'
`She seems to have a lively disposition,' observed Martin.
`Dear me!' said Mr. Pecksniff. `That is quite remarkable. You have defined her character, my dear sir, as correctly as if you had known her from her birth. She has a lively disposition. I assure you, my dear sir, that in our unpretending home her gaiety is delightful.'
`No doubt,' returned the old man.
