"Walk up, pray, Mr. Pinch," said Miss Pecksniff. For Tom halted, irresolutely, at the door.
"I am doubtful whether I should be welcome," replied Tom, "or, I ought rather to say, I have no doubt about it. I will send up a message, I think."
"But what nonsense that is!" returned Miss Pecksniff, speaking apart to Tom. "He is not at home, I am certain; I know he is not; and Merry hasn't the least idea that you ever"
"No," interrupted Tom. "Nor would I have her know it, on any account. I am not so proud of that scuffle, I assure you."
"Ah, but then you are so modest, you see," returned Miss Pecksniff, with a smile. "But pray walk up. If you don't wish her to know it and do wish to speak to her, pray walk up. Pray walk up, Miss Pinch. Don't stand here."
Tom still hesitated; for he felt that he was in an awkward position. But Cherry passing him at this juncture, and leading his sister upstairs; and the house-door being at the same time shut behind them; he followed without quite knowing whether it was well or ill-judged so to do.
"Merry, my darling!" said the fair Miss Pecksniff, opening the door of the usual sitting-room. "Here are Mr. Pinch and his sister come to see you! I thought we should find you here, Mrs. Todgers! How do you do, Mrs. Gamp? And how do you do, Mr. Chuffey, though it's of no use asking you the question, I am well aware."
Honouring each of these parties, as she severally addressed them with an acid smile; Miss Charity presented Mr. Moddle.
"I believe you have seen him before," she pleasantly observed. "Augustus, my sweet child, bring me a chair."
The sweet child did as he was told; and was then about to retire into a corner to mourn in secret, when Miss Charity, calling him in an audible whisper "a little pet," gave him leave to come and sit beside her. It is to be hoped, for the general cheerfulness of mankind, that such a doleful little pet was never seen as Mr. Moddle looked when he complied. So despondent was his temper, that he showed no outward thrill of ecstasy, when Miss Pecksniff placed her lily hand in his, and concealed this mark of her favour from the vulgar gaze, by covering it with a corner of her shawl. Indeed, he was infinitely more rueful then than he had been before; and, sitting uncomfortably upright in his chair, surveyed the company with watery eyes, which seemed to say, without the aid of language, "Oh, good gracious! look here! Won't some kind Christian help me!"
But the ecstasies of Mrs. Gamp were sufficient to have furnished forth a score of young lovers; and they were chiefly awakened by the sight of Tom Pinch and his sister. Mrs. Gamp was a lady of that happy temperament which can be ecstatic without any other stimulating cause than a general desire to establish a large and profitable connection. She added daily so many strings to her bow, that she made a perfect harp of it; and upon that instrument she now began to perform an extemporaneous concerto.
"Why, goodness me!" she said. "Mrs. Chuzzlewit! To think as
