Martin Chuzzlewit

by Charles Dickens

  CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO

  TREATS OF TODGER'S AGAIN; AND OF ANOTHER BLIGHTED PLANT BESIDES THEPLANTS UPON THE LEADS

  Early on the day next after that on which she bade adieu to the hallsof her youth and the scenes of her childhood, Miss Pecksniff, arrivingsafely at the coach-office in London, was there received, and conductedto her peaceful home beneath the shadow of the Monument, by Mrs Todgers.M. Todgers looked a little worn by cares of gravy and other suchsolicitudes arising out of her establishment, but displayed her usualearnestness and warmth of manner.

  'And how, my sweet Miss Pecksniff,' said she, 'how is your princely pa?'

  Miss Pecksniff signified (in confidence) that he contemplated theintroduction of a princely ma; and repeated the sentiment that shewasn't blind, and wasn't quite a fool, and wouldn't bear it.

  Mrs Todgers was more shocked by the intelligence than any one could haveexpected. She was quite bitter. She said there was no truth in man andthat the warmer he expressed himself, as a general principle, the falserand more treacherous he was. She foresaw with astonishing clearness thatthe object of Mr Pecksniff's attachment was designing, worthless, andwicked; and receiving from Charity the fullest confirmation of theseviews, protested with tears in her eyes that she loved Miss Pecksnifflike a sister, and felt her injuries as if they were her own.

  'Your real darling sister, I have not seen her more than once since hermarriage,' said Mrs Todgers, 'and then I thought her looking poorly. Mysweet Miss Pecksniff, I always thought that you was to be the lady?'

  'Oh dear no!' cried Cherry, shaking her head. 'Oh no, Mrs Todgers. Thankyou. No! not for any consideration he could offer.'

  'I dare say you are right,' said Mrs Todgers with a sigh. 'I fearedit all along. But the misery we have had from that match, here amongourselves, in this house, my dear Miss Pecksniff, nobody would believe.'

  'Lor, Mrs Todgers!'

  'Awful, awful!' repeated Mrs Todgers, with strong emphasis. 'Yourecollect our youngest gentleman, my dear?'

  'Of course I do,' said Cherry.

  'You might have observed,' said Mrs Todgers, 'how he used to watch yoursister; and that a kind of stony dumbness came over him whenever she wasin company?'

  'I am sure I never saw anything of the sort,' said Cherry, in a peevishmanner. 'What nonsense, Mrs Todgers!'

  'My dear,' returned that lady in a hollow voice, 'I have seen him againand again, sitting over his pie at dinner, with his spoon a perfectfixture in his mouth, looking at your sister. I have seen him standingin a corner of our drawing-room, gazing at her, in such a lonely,melancholy state, that he was more like a Pump than a man, and mighthave drawed tears.'

  'I never saw it!' cried Cherry; 'that's all I can say.'

  'But when the marriage took place,' said Mrs Todgers, proceedingwith her subject, 'when it was in the paper, and was read out here atbreakfast, I thought he had taken leave of his senses, I did indeed.The violence of that young man, my dear Miss Pecksniff; the frightfulopinions he expressed upon the subject of self-destruction; theextraordinary actions he performed with his tea; the clenching way inwhich he bit his bread and butter; the manner in which he taunted MrJinkins; all combined to form a picture never to be forgotten.'

  'It's a pity he didn't destroy himself, I think,' observed MissPecksniff.

  'Himself!' said Mrs Todgers, 'it took another turn at night. He was fordestroying other people then. There was a little chaffing going on--Ihope you don't consider that a low expression, Miss Pecksniff; it isalways in our gentlemen's mouths--a little chaffing going on, my dear,among 'em, all in good nature, when suddenly he rose up, foaming withhis fury, and but for being held by three would have had Mr Jinkins'slife with a bootjack.'

  Miss Pecksniff's face expressed supreme indifference.

  'And now,' said Mrs Todgers, 'now he is the meekest of men. You canalmost bring the tears into his eyes by looking at him. He sits with methe whole day long on Sundays, talking in such a dismal way that I findit next to impossible to keep my spirits up equal to the accommodationof the boarders. His only comfort is in female society. He takes mehalf-price to the play, to an extent which I sometimes fear is beyondhis means; and I see the tears a-standing in his eyes during the wholeperformance--particularly if it is anything of a comic nature. The turnI experienced only yesterday,' said Mrs Todgers putting her hand to herside, 'when the house-maid threw his bedside carpet out of the window ofhis room, while I was sitting here, no one can imagine. I thought it washim, and that he had done it at last!'

  The contempt with which Miss Charity received this pathetic account ofthe state to which the youngest gentleman in company was reduced,did not say much for her power of sympathising with that unfortunatecharacter. She treated it with great levity, and went on to informherself, then and afterwards, whether any other changes had occurred inthe commercial boarding-house.

  Mr Bailey was gone, and had been succeeded (such is the decay of humangreatness!) by an old woman whose name was reported to be Tamaroo--whichseemed an impossibility. Indeed it appeared in the fullness of time thatthe jocular boarders had appropriated the word from an English ballad,in which it is supposed to express the bold and fiery nature of acertain hackney coachman; and that it was bestowed upon Mr Bailey'ssuccessor by reason of her having nothing fiery about her, except anoccasional attack of that fire which is called St. Anthony's. Thisancient female had been engaged, in fulfillment of a vow, registered byMrs Todgers, that no more boys should darken the commercial doors; andshe was chiefly remarkable for a total absence of all comprehension uponevery subject whatever. She was a perfect Tomb for messages and smallparcels; and when dispatched to the Post Office with letters, had beenfrequently seen endeavouring to insinuate them into casual chinks inprivate doors, under the delusion that any door with a hole in it wouldanswer the purpose. She was a very little old woman, and always worea very coarse apron with a bib before and a loop behind, togetherwith bandages on her wrists, which appeared to be afflicted with aneverlasting sprain. She was on all occasions chary of opening the streetdoor, and ardent to shut it again; and she waited at table in a bonnet.

  This was the only great change over and above the change which hadfallen on the youngest gentleman. As for him, he more than corroboratedthe account of Mrs Todgers; possessing greater sensibility than evenshe had given him credit for. He entertained some terrible notions ofDestiny, among other matters, and talked much about people's 'Missions';upon which he seemed to have some private information not generallyattainable, as he knew it had been poor Merry's mission to crush himin the bud. He was very frail and tearful; for being aware that ashepherd's mission was to pipe to his flocks, and that a boatswain'smission was to pipe all hands, and that one man's mission was to be apaid piper, and another man's mission was to pay the piper, so he hadgot it into his head that his own peculiar mission was to pipe his eye.Which he did perpetually.

  He often informed Mrs Todgers that the sun had set upon him; that thebillows had rolled over him; that the car of Juggernaut had crushed him,and also that the deadly Upas tree of Java had blighted him. His namewas Moddle.

  Towards this most unhappy Moddle, Miss Pecksniff conducted herself atfirst with distant haughtiness, being in no humour to be entertainedwith dirges in honour of her married sister. The poor young gentlemanwas additionally crushed by this, and remonstrated with Mrs Todgers onthe subject.

  'Even she turns from me, Mrs Todgers,' said Moddle.

  'Then why don't you try and be a little bit more cheerful, sir?'retorted Mrs Todgers.

  'Cheerful, Mrs Todgers! cheerful!' cried the youngest gentleman; 'whenshe reminds me of days for ever fled, Mrs Todgers!'

  'Then you had better avoid her for a short time, if she does,' said MrsTodgers, 'and come to know her again, by degrees. That's my advice.'

  'But I can't avoid her,' replied Moddle, 'I haven't strength of mind todo it. Oh, Mrs Todgers, if you knew what a comfort her nose is to me!'

  'Her nose, sir!' Mrs Todgers cried.

  'Her pr
ofile, in general,' said the youngest gentleman, 'butparticularly her nose. It's so like;' here he yielded to a burst ofgrief. 'It's so like hers who is Another's, Mrs Todgers!'

  The observant matron did not fail to report this conversation toCharity, who laughed at the time, but treated Mr Moddle that veryevening with increased consideration, and presented her side face to himas much as possible. Mr Moddle was not less sentimental than usual;was rather more so, if anything; but he sat and stared at her withglistening eyes, and seemed grateful.

  'Well, sir!' said the lady of the Boarding-House next day. 'You held upyour head last night. You're coming round, I think.'

  'Only because she's so like her who is Another's, Mrs Todgers,' rejoinedthe youth. 'When she talks, and when she smiles, I think I'm looking onHER brow again, Mrs Todgers.'

  This was likewise carried to Charity, who talked and smiled next eveningin her most engaging manner, and rallying Mr Moddle on the lowness ofhis spirits, challenged him to play a rubber at cribbage. Mr Moddletaking up the gauntlet, they played several rubbers for sixpences, andCharity won them all. This may have been partially attributable to thegallantry of the youngest gentleman, but it was certainly referable tothe state of his feelings also; for his eyes being frequently dimmed bytears, he thought that aces were tens, and knaves queens, which at timesoccasioned some confusion in his play.

  On the seventh night of cribbage, when Mrs Todgers, sitting by, proposedthat instead of gambling they should play for 'love,' Mr Moddle was seento change colour. On the fourteenth night, he kissed Miss Pecksniff'ssnuffers, in the passage, when she went upstairs to bed; meaning to havekissed her hand, but missing it.

  In short, Mr Moddle began to be impressed with the idea that MissPecksniff's mission was to comfort him; and Miss Pecksniff beganto speculate on the probability of its being her mission to becomeultimately Mrs Moddle. He was a young gentleman (Miss Pecksniff was nota very young lady) with rising prospects, and 'almost' enough to liveon. Really it looked very well.

  Besides--besides--he had been regarded as devoted to Merry. Merry hadjoked about him, and had once spoken of it to her sister as a conquest.He was better looking, better shaped, better spoken, better tempered,better mannered than Jonas. He was easy to manage, could be made toconsult the humours of his Betrothed, and could be shown off like a lambwhen Jonas was a bear. There was the rub!

  In the meantime the cribbage went on, and Mrs Todgers went off; for theyoungest gentleman, dropping her society, began to take Miss Pecksniffto the play. He also began, as Mrs Todgers said, to slip home 'in hisdinner-times,' and to get away from 'the office' at unholy seasons;and twice, as he informed Mrs Todgers himself, he received anonymousletters, enclosing cards from Furniture Warehouses--clearly the act ofthat ungentlemanly ruffian Jinkins; only he hadn't evidence enough tocall him out upon. All of which, so Mrs Todgers told Miss Pecksniff,spoke as plain English as the shining sun.

  'My dear Miss Pecksniff, you may depend upon it,' said Mrs Todgers,'that he is burning to propose.'

  'My goodness me, why don't he then?' cried Cherry.

  'Men are so much more timid than we think 'em, my dear,' returnedMrs Todgers. 'They baulk themselves continually. I saw the words onTodgers's lips for months and months and months, before he said 'em.'

  Miss Pecksniff submitted that Todgers might not have been a fairspecimen.

  'Oh yes, he was. Oh bless you, yes, my dear. I was very particular inthose days, I assure you,' said Mrs Todgers, bridling. 'No, no. You giveMr Moddle a little encouragement, Miss Pecksniff, if you wish him tospeak; and he'll speak fast enough, depend upon it.'

  'I am sure I don't know what encouragement he would have, Mrs Todgers,'returned Charity. 'He walks with me, and plays cards with me, and hecomes and sits alone with me.'

  'Quite right,' said Mrs Todgers. 'That's indispensable, my dear.'

  'And he sits very close to me.'

  'Also quite correct,' said Mrs Todgers.

  'And he looks at me.'

  'To be sure he does,' said Mrs Todgers.

  'And he has his arm upon the back of the chair or sofa, or whatever itis--behind me, you know.'

  'I should think so,' said Mrs Todgers.

  'And then he begins to cry!'

  Mrs Todgers admitted that he might do better than that; and mightundoubtedly profit by the recollection of the great Lord Nelson's signalat the battle of Trafalgar. Still, she said, he would come round, or,not to mince the matter, would be brought round, if Miss Pecksniff tookup a decided position, and plainly showed him that it must be done.

  Determining to regulate her conduct by this opinion, the young ladyreceived Mr Moddle, on the earliest subsequent occasion, with an air ofconstraint; and gradually leading him to inquire, in a dejected manner,why she was so changed, confessed to him that she felt it necessary fortheir mutual peace and happiness to take a decided step. They had beenmuch together lately, she observed, much together, and had tasted thesweets of a genuine reciprocity of sentiment. She never could forgethim, nor could she ever cease to think of him with feelings of theliveliest friendship, but people had begun to talk, the thing had beenobserved, and it was necessary that they should be nothing more to eachother, than any gentleman and lady in society usually are. She was gladshe had had the resolution to say thus much before her feelings had beentried too far; they had been greatly tried, she would admit; but thoughshe was weak and silly, she would soon get the better of it, she hoped.

  Moddle, who had by this time become in the last degree maudlin, and weptabundantly, inferred from the foregoing avowal, that it was his missionto communicate to others the blight which had fallen on himself; andthat, being a kind of unintentional Vampire, he had had Miss Pecksniffassigned to him by the Fates, as Victim Number One. Miss Pecksniffcontroverting this opinion as sinful, Moddle was goaded on to askwhether she could be contented with a blighted heart; and it appearingon further examination that she could be, plighted his dismal troth,which was accepted and returned.

  He bore his good fortune with the utmost moderation. Instead of beingtriumphant, he shed more tears than he had ever been known to shedbefore; and, sobbing, said:

  'Oh! what a day this has been! I can't go back to the office thisafternoon. Oh, what a trying day this has been! Good Gracious!'