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CHAPTER 8
Business disposed of, Mr Swiveller was inwardly reminded of its being nigh dinner-time, and
to the intent that his health might not be endangered by longer abstinence, dispatched
a message to the nearest eating-house requiring an immediate supply of boiled beef and greens
for two. With this demand, however, the eating-house (having experience of its customer) declined
to comply, churlishly sending back for answer that if Mr Swiveller stood in need of beef
perhaps he would be so obliging as to come there and eat it, bringing with him, as grace
before meat, the amount of a certain small account which had long been outstanding. Not
at all intimidated by this rebuff, but rather sharpened in wits and appetite, Mr Swiveller
forwarded the same message to another and more distant eating-house, adding to it by
way of rider that the gentleman was induced to send so far, not only by the great fame
and popularity its beef had acquired, but in consequence of the extreme toughness of
the beef retailed at the obdurant cook's shop, which rendered it quite unfit not merely for
gentlemanly food, but for any human consumption. The good effect of this politic course was
demonstrated by the speedy arrival of a small pewter pyramid, curiously constructed of platters
and covers, whereof the boiled-beef-plates formed the base, and a foaming quart-pot the
apex; the structure being resolved into its component parts afforded all things requisite
and necessary for a hearty meal, to which Mr Swiveller and his friend applied themselves
with great keenness and enjoyment.
'May the present moment,' said ***, sticking his fork into a large carbuncular potato,
'be the worst of our lives! I like the plan of sending 'em with the peel on; there's a
charm in drawing a potato from its native element (if I may so express it) to which
the rich and powerful are strangers. Ah! 'Man wants but little here below, nor wants that
little long!' How true that is!óafter dinner.'
'I hope the eating-house keeper will want but little and that he may not want that little
long,' returned his companion; but I suspect you've no means of paying for this!'
'I shall be passing present, and I'll call,' said ***, winking his eye significantly.
'The waiter's quite helpless. The goods are gone, Fred, and there's an end of it.'
In point of fact, it would seem that the waiter felt this wholesome truth, for when he returned
for the empty plates and dishes and was informed by Mr Swiveller with dignified carelessness
that he would call and settle when he should be passing presently, he displayed some perturbation
of spirit and muttered a few remarks about 'payment on delivery' and 'no trust,' and
other unpleasant subjects, but was fain to content himself with inquiring at what hour
it was likely that the gentleman would call, in order that being presently responsible
for the beef, greens, and sundries, he might take to be in the way at the time. Mr Swiveller,
after mentally calculating his engagements to a nicety, replied that he should look in
at from two minutes before six and seven minutes past; and the man disappearing with this feeble
consolation, Richard Swiveller took a greasy memorandum-book from his pocket and made an
entry therein.
'Is that a reminder, in case you should forget to call?' said Trent with a sneer.
'Not exactly, Fred,' replied the imperturbable Richard, continuing to write with a businesslike
air. 'I enter in this little book the names of the streets that I can't go down while
the shops are open. This dinner today closes Long Acre. I bought a pair of boots in Great
Queen Street last week, and made that no throughfare too. There's only one avenue to the Strand
left often now, and I shall have to stop up that to-night with a pair of gloves. The roads
are closing so fast in every direction, that in a month's time, unless my aunt sends me
a remittance, I shall have to go three or four miles out of town to get over the way.'
'There's no fear of failing, in the end?' said Trent.
'Why, I hope not,' returned Mr Swiveller, 'but the average number of letters it take
to soften her is six, and this time we have got as far as eight without any effect at
all. I'll write another to-morrow morning. I mean to blot it a good deal and shake some
water over it out of the pepper-castor to make it look penitent. 'I'm in such a state
of mind that I hardly know what I write'óblotó' if you could see me at this minute shedding
tears for my past misconduct'ópepper-castorómy hand trembles when I think'óblot againóif
that don't produce the effect, it's all over.'
By this time, Mr Swiveller had finished his entry, and he now replaced his pencil in its
little sheath and closed the book, in a perfectly grave and serious frame of mind. His friend
discovered that it was time for him to fulfil some other engagement, and Richard Swiveller
was accordingly left alone, in company with the rosy wine and his own meditations touching
Miss Sophy Wackles.
'It's rather sudden,' said *** shaking his head with a look of infinite wisdom, and running
on (as he was accustomed to do) with scraps of verse as if they were only prose in a hurry;
'when the heart of a man is depressed with fears, the mist is dispelled when Miss Wackles
appears; she's a very nice girl. She's like the red red rose that's newly sprung in Juneóthere's
no denying thatóshe's also like a melody that's sweetly played in tune. It's really
very sudden. Not that there's any need, on account of Fred's little sister, to turn cool
directly, but its better not to go too far. If I begin to cool at all I must begin at
once, I see that. There's the chance of an action for breach, that's another. There's
the chance ofóno, there's no chance of that, but it's as well to be on the safe side.'
This undeveloped was the possibility, which Richard Swiveller sought to conceal even from
himself, of his not being proof against the charms of Miss Wackles, and in some unguarded
moment, by linking his fortunes to hers forever, of putting it out of his own power to further
their notable scheme to which he had so readily become a party. For all these reasons, he
decided to pick a quarrel with Miss Wackles without delay, and casting about for a pretext
determined in favour of groundless jealousy. Having made up his mind on this important
point, he circulated the glass (from his right hand to left, and back again) pretty freely,
to enable him to act his part with the greater discretion, and then, after making some slight
improvements in his toilet, bent his steps towards the spot hallowed by the fair object
of his meditations.
The spot was at Chelsea, for there Miss Sophia Wackles resided with her widowed mother and
two sisters, in conjunction with whom she maintained a very small day-school for young
ladies of proportionate dimensions; a circumstance which was made known to the neighbourhood
by an oval board over the front first-floor windows, whereupon appeared in circumambient
flourishes the words 'Ladies' Seminary'; and which was further published and proclaimed
at intervals between the hours of half-past nine and ten in the morning, by a straggling
and solitary young lady of tender years standing on the scraper on the tips of her toes and
making futile attempts to reach the knocker with a spelling-book. The several duties of
instruction in this establishment were thus discharged. English grammar, composition,
geography, and the use of the dumb-bells, by Miss Melissa Wackles; writing, arithmetic,
dancing, music, and general fascination, by Miss Sophia Wackles; the art of needle-work,
marking, and samplery, by Miss Jane Wackles; corporal punishment, fasting, and other tortures
and terrors, by Mrs Wackles. Miss Melissa Wackles was the eldest daughter, Miss Sophy
the next, and Miss Jane the youngest. Miss Melissa might have seen five-and-thirty summers
or thereabouts, and verged on the autumnal; Miss Sophy was a fresh, good humoured, buxom
girl of twenty; and Miss Jane numbered scarcely sixteen years. Mrs Wackles was an excellent
but rather venomous old lady of three-score.
To this Ladies' Seminary, then, Richard Swiveller hied, with designs obnoxious to the peace
of the fair Sophia, who, arrayed in *** white, embellished by no ornament but one
blushing rose, received him on his arrival, in the midst of very elegant not to say brilliant
preparations; such as the embellishment of the room with the little flower-pots which
always stood on the window-sill outside, save in windy weather when they blew into the area;
the choice attire of the day-scholars who were allowed to grace the festival; the unwonted
curls of Miss Jane Wackles who had kept her head during the whole of the preceding day
screwed up tight in a yellow play-bill; and the solemn gentility and stately bearing of
the old lady and her eldest daughter, which struck Mr Swiveller as being uncommon but
made no further impression upon him.
The truth isóand, as there is no accounting for tastes, even a taste so strange as this
may be recorded without being looked upon as a wilful and malicious inventionóthe truth
is that neither Mrs Wackles nor her eldest daughter had at any time greatly favoured
the pretensions of Mr Swiveller, being accustomed to make slight mention of him as 'a gay young
man' and to sigh and shake their heads ominously whenever his name was mentioned. Mr Swiveller's
conduct in respect to Miss Sophy having been of that vague and dilatory kind which is usually
looked upon as betokening no fixed matrimonial intentions, the young lady herself began in
course of time to deem it highly desirable, that it should be brought to an issue one
way or other. Hence she had at last consented to play off against Richard Swiveller a stricken
market-gardner known to be ready with his offer on the smallest encouragement, and henceóas
this occasion had been specially assigned for the purposeóthat great anxiety on her
part for Richard Swiveller's presence which had occasioned her to leave the note he has
been seen to receive. 'If he has any expectations at all or any means of keeping a wife well,'
said Mrs Wackles to her eldest daughter, 'he'll state 'em to us now or never.'ó'If he really
cares about me,' thought Miss Sophy, 'he must tell me so, to-night.'
But all these sayings and doings and thinkings being unknown to Mr Swiveller, affected him
not in the least; he was debating in his mind how he could best turn jealous, and wishing
that Sophy were for that occasion only far less pretty than she was, or that she were
her own sister, which would have served his turn as well, when the company came, and among
them the market-gardener, whose name was Cheggs. But Mr Cheggs came not alone or unsupported,
for he prudently brought along with him his sister, Miss Cheggs, who making straight to
Miss Sophy and taking her by both hands, and kissing her on both cheeks, hoped in an audible
whisper that they had not come too early.
'Too early, no!' replied Miss Sophy.
'Oh, my dear,' rejoined Miss Cheggs in the same whisper as before, 'I've been so tormented,
so worried, that it's a mercy we were not here at four o'clock in the afternoon. Alick
has been in such a state of impatience to come! You'd hardly believe that he was dressed
before dinner-time and has been looking at the clock and teasing me ever since. It's
all your fault, you naughty thing.'
Hereupon Miss Sophy blushed, and Mr Cheggs (who was bashful before ladies) blushed too,
and Miss Sophy's mother and sisters, to prevent Mr Cheggs from blushing more, lavished civilities
and attentions upon him, and left Richard Swiveller to take care of himself. Here was
the very thing he wanted, here was good cause reason and foundation for pretending to be
angry; but having this cause reason and foundation which he had come expressly to seek, not expecting
to find, Richard Swiveller was angry in sound earnest, and wondered what the devil Cheggs
meant by his impudence.
However, Mr Swiveller had Miss Sophy's hand for the first quadrille (country-dances being
low, were utterly proscribed) and so gained an advantage over his rival, who sat despondingly
in a corner and contemplated the glorious figure of the young lady as she moved through
the mazy dance. Nor was this the only start Mr Swiveller had of the market-gardener, for
determining to show the family what quality of man they trifled with, and influenced perhaps
by his late libations, he performed such feats of agility and such spins and twirls as filled
the company with astonishment, and in particular caused a very long gentleman who was dancing
with a very short scholar, to stand quite transfixed by wonder and admiration. Even
Mrs Wackles forgot for the moment to snub three small young ladies who were inclined
to be happy, and could not repress a rising thought that to have such a dancer as that
in the family would be a pride indeed.
At this momentous crisis, Miss Cheggs proved herself a vigourous and useful ally, for not
confining herself to expressing by scornful smiles a contempt for Mr Swiveller's accomplishments,
she took every opportunity of whispering into Miss Sophy's ear expressions of condolence
and sympathy on her being worried by such a ridiculous creature, declaring that she
was frightened to death lest Alick should fall upon, and beat him, in the fulness of
his wrath, and entreating Miss Sophy to observe how the eyes of the said Alick gleamed with
love and fury; passions, it may be observed, which being too much for his eyes rushed into
his nose also, and suffused it with a crimson glow.
'You must dance with Miss Chegs,' said Miss Sophy to *** Swiviller, after she had herself
danced twice with Mr Cheggs and made great show of encouraging his advances. 'She's a
nice girlóand her brother's quite delightful.'
'Quite delightful, is he?' muttered ***. 'Quite delighted too, I should say, from the
manner in which he's looking this way.'
Here Miss Jane (previously instructed for the purpose) interposed her many curls and
whispered her sister to observe how jealous Mr Cheggs was.
'Jealous! Like his impudence!' said Richard Swiviller.
'His impudence, Mr Swiviller!' said Miss Jane, tossing her head. 'Take care he don't hear
you, sir, or you may be sorry for it.'
'Oh, pray, Janeó' said Miss Sophy.
'Nonsense!' replied her sister. 'Why shouldn't Mr Cheggs be jealous if he likes? I like that,
certainly. Mr Cheggs has a good a right to be jealous as anyone else has, and perhaps
he may have a better right soon if he hasn't already. You know best about that, Sophy!'
Though this was a concerted plot between Miss Sophy and her sister, originating in humane
intentions and having for its object the inducing Mr Swiviller to declare himself in time, it
failed in its effect; for Miss Jane being one of those young ladies who are prematurely
shrill and shrewish, gave such undue importance to her part that Mr Swiviller retired in dudgeon,
resigning his mistress to Mr Cheggs and conveying a defiance into his looks which that gentleman
indignantly returned.
'Did you speak to me, sir?' said Mr Cheggs, following him into a corner. 'Have the kindness
to smile, sir, in order that we may not be suspected. Did you speak to me, sir'?
Mr Swiviller looked with a supercilious smile at Mr Chegg's toes, then raised his eyes from
them to his ankles, from that to his shin, from that to his knee, and so on very gradually,
keeping up his right leg, until he reached his waistcoat, when he raised his eyes from
button to button until he reached his chin, and travelling straight up the middle of his
nose came at last to his eyes, when he said abruptly,
'No, sir, I didn't.'
`'Hem!' said Mr Cheggs, glancing over his shoulder, 'have the goodness to smile again,
sir. Perhaps you wished to speak to me, sir.'
'No, sir, I didn't do that, either.'
'Perhaps you may have nothing to say to me now, sir,' said Mr Cheggs fiercely.
At these words Richard Swiviller withdrew his eyes from Mr Chegg's face, and travelling
down the middle of his nose and down his waistcoat and down his right leg, reached his toes again,
and carefully surveyed him; this done, he crossed over, and coming up the other leg,
and thence approaching by the waistcoat as before, said when had got to his eyes, 'No
sir, I haven't.'
'Oh, indeed, sir!' said Mr Cheggs. 'I'm glad to hear it. You know where I'm to be found,
I suppose, sir, in case you should have anything to say to me?'
'I can easily inquire, sir, when I want to know.'
'There's nothing more we need say, I believe, sir?'
'Nothing more, sir'óWith that they closed the tremendous dialog by frowning mutually.
Mr Cheggs hastened to tender his hand to Miss Sophy, and Mr Swiviller sat himself down in
a corner in a very moody state.
Hard by this corner, Mrs Wackles and Miss Wackles were seated, looking on at the dance;
and unto Mrs and Miss Wackles, Miss Cheggs occasionally darted when her partner was occupied
with his share of the figure, and made some remark or other which was gall and wormwood
to Richard Swiviller's soul. Looking into the eyes of Mrs and Miss Wackles for encouragement,
and sitting very upright and uncomfortable on a couple of hard stools, were two of the
day-scholars; and when Miss Wackles smiled, and Mrs Wackles smiled, the two little girls
on the stools sought to curry favour by smiling likewise, in gracious acknowledgement of which
attention the old lady frowned them down instantly, and said that if they dared to be guilty of
such an impertinence again, they should be sent under convoy to their respective homes.
This threat caused one of the young ladies, she being of a weak and trembling temperament,
to shed tears, and for this offense they were both filed off immediately, with a dreadful
promptitude that struck terror into the souls of all the pupils.
'I've got such news for you,' said Miss Cheggs approaching once more, 'Alick has been saying
such things to Sophy. Upon my word, you know, it's quite serious and in earnest, that's
clear.'
'What's he been saying, my dear?' demanded Mrs Wackles.
'All manner of things,' replied Miss Cheggs, 'you can't think how out he has been speaking!'
Richard Swiviller considered it advisable to hear no more, but taking advantage of a
pause in the dancing, and the approach of Mr Cheggs to pay his court to the old lady,
swaggered with an extremely careful assumption of extreme carelessness toward the door, passing
on the way Miss Jane Wackles, who in all the glory of her curls was holding a flirtation,
(as good practice when no better was to be had) with a feeble old gentleman who lodged
in the parlour. Near the door sat Miss Sophy, still fluttered and confused by the attentions
of Mr Cheggs, and by her side Richard Swiveller lingered for a moment to exchange a few parting
words.
'My boat is on the shore and my bark is on the sea, but before I pass this door I will
say farewell to thee,' murmured ***, looking gloomily upon her.
'Are you going?' said Miss Sophy, whose heart sank within her at the result of her stratagem,
but who affected a light indifference notwithstanding.
'Am I going!' echoed *** bitterly. 'Yes, I am. What then?'
'Nothing, except that it's very early,' said Miss Sophy; 'but you are your own master,
of course.'
'I would that I had been my own mistress too,' said ***, 'before I had ever entertained
a thought of you. Miss Wackles, I believed you true, and I was blest in so believing,
but now I mourn that e'er I knew, a girl so fair yet so deceiving.'
Miss Sophy bit her lip and affected to look with great interest after Mr Cheggs, who was
quaffing lemonade in the distance.
'I came here,' said ***, rather oblivious of the purpose with which he had really come,
'with my *** expanded, my heart dilated, and my sentiments of a corresponding description.
I go away with feelings that may be conceived but cannot be described, feeling within myself
that desolating truth that my best affections have experienced this night a stifler!'
'I am sure I don't know what you mean, Mr Swiviller,' said Miss Sophy with downcast
eyes. 'I'm very sorry ifó'
'Sorry, Ma'am!' said ***, 'sorry in the possession of a Cheggs! But I wish you a very good night,
concluding with this slight remark, that there is a young lady growing up at this present
moment for me, who has not only great personal attractions but great wealth, and who has
requested her next of kin to propose for my hand, which, having a regard for some members
of her family, I have consented to promise. It's a gratifying circumstance which you'll
be glad to hear, that a young and lovely girl is growing into a woman expressly on my account,
and is now saving up for me. I thought I'd mention it. I have now merely to apologize
for trespassing so long upon your attention. Good night.'
'There's one good thing springs out of all this,' said Richard Swiviller to himself when
he had reached home and was hanging over the candle with the extinguisher in his hand,
'which is, that I now go heart and soul, neck and heels, with Fred in all his scheme about
little Nelly, and right glad he'll be to find me so strong upon it. He shall know all about
that to-morrow, and in the mean time, as it's rather late, I'll try and get a wink of the
balmy.'
'The balmy' came almost as soon as it was courted. In a very few minutes Mr Swiviller
was fast asleep, dreaming that he had married Nelly Trent and come into the property, and
that his first act of power was to lay waste the market-garden of Mr Cheggs and turn it
into a brick-field.