paraded them before his greedy listener. And in the same niggardly spirit, he left Mr. Pecksniff to infer, if he chose (which he did choose of course), that a consciousness of not having any great natural gifts of speech and manner himself, rendered him desirous to have the credit of introducing to Mr. Montague some one who was well endowed in those respects, and so atone for his own deficiencies. Otherwise, he muttered discontentedly, he would have seen his beloved father-in-law "far enough off," before he would have taken him into his confidence.
Primed in this artful manner, Mr. Pecksniff presented himself at dinner-time in such a state of suavity, benevolence, cheerfulness, politeness, and cordiality, as even he had perhaps never attained before. The frankness of the country gentleman, the refinement of the artist, the good-humoured allowance of the man of the world; philanthropy, forbearance, piety, toleration, all blended together in a flexible adaptability to anything and everything; were expressed in Mr. Pecksniff, as he shook hands with the great speculator and capitalist.
"Welcome, respected Sir," said Mr. Pecksniff, "to our humble village! We are a simple people; primitive clods, Mr. Montague; but we can appreciate the honour of your visit, as my dear son-in-law can testify. It is very strange," said Mr. Pecksniff, pressing his hand almost reverentially, "but I seem to know you. That towering forehead, my dear Jonas," said Mr. Pecksniff aside, "and those clustering masses of rich hair—I must have seen you, my dear sir, in the sparkling throng."
Nothing was more probable, they all agreed.
"I could have wished," said Mr. Pecksniff, "to have had the honour of introducing you to an elderly inmate of our house: to the uncle of our friend. Mr. Chuzzlewit, sir, would have been proud indeed to have taken you by the hand."
"Is the gentleman here now?" asked Montague, turning deeply red.
"He is," said Mr. Pecksniff.
"You said nothing about that, Chuzzlewit."
"I didn't suppose you'd care to hear of it," returned Jonas. "You wouldn't care to know him, I can promise you."
"Jonas? my dear Jonas!" remonstrated Mr. Pecksniff. "Really!"
"Oh! it's all very well for you to speak up for him," said Jonas. "You have nailed him. You 'll get a fortune by him."
"Oho! Is the wind in that quarter!" cried Montague. "Ha, ha, ha!" and here they all laughed—especially Mr. Pecksniff.
"No, no!" said that gentleman, clapping his son-in-law playfully upon the shoulder. "You must not believe all that my young relative says, Mr. Montague. You may believe him in official business, and trust him in official business, but you must not attach importance to his flights of fancy."
"Upon my life, Mr. Pecksniff," cried Montague, "I attach the greatest importance to that last observation of his. I trust and hope it's true. Money cannot be turned and turned again quickly enough in the ordinary course, Mr. Pecksniff. There is nothing like building our fortunes on the weaknesses of mankind."
