"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.
"Lookye!" said Anthony in his ear. "I think he is sweet upon your 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, dryly. "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
