Having revolved these things in his mind and arrived at this conclusion, he communicated to Mr. Swiveller as much of his meditations as he thought proper (Dick would have been perfectly satisfied with less), and giving him the day to recover himself from his late salamandering, accompanied him at evening to Mr. Quilp’s house.
Mightily glad Mr. Quilp was to see them, or mightily glad he seemed to be; and fearfully polite Mr. Quilp was to Mrs. Quilp and Mrs. Jiniwin; and very sharp was the look he cast on his wife to observe how she was affected by the recognition of young Trent. Mrs. Quilp was as innocent as her own mother of any emotion, painful or pleasant, which the sight of him awakened, but as her husband’s glance made her timid and confused, and uncertain what to do or what was required of her, Mr. Quilp did not fail to assign her embarrassment to the cause he had in his mind, and while he chuckled at his penetration was secretly exasperated by his jealousy.
Nothing of this appeared, however. On the contrary, Mr. Quilp was all blandness and suavity, and presided over the case-bottle of rum with extraordinary open-heartedness.
“Why, let me see,” said Quilp. “It must be a matter of nearly two years since we were first acquainted.”
“Nearer three, I think,” said Trent.
“Nearer three!” cried Quilp. “How fast time flies. Does it seem as long as that to you, Mrs. Quilp?”
“Yes, I think it seems full three years, Quilp,” was the unfortunate reply.
“Oh indeed Ma’am,” thought Quilp, “you have been pining, have you? Very good Ma’am.”
“It seems to me but yesterday that you went out to Demerara in the Mary Anne,” said Quilp; “but yesterday, I declare. Well, I like a little wildness. I was wild myself once.”
Mr. Quilp accompanied this admission with such an awful wink, indicative of old rovings and backslidings, that Mrs. Jiniwin was indignant, and could not forbear from remarking under her breath that he might at least put off his confessions until his wife was absent; for which act of boldness and insubordination Mr. Quilp first stared her out of countenance and then drank her health ceremoniously.
“I thought you’d come back directly, Fred. I always thought that,” said Quilp setting down his glass. “And when the Mary Anne returned with you on board, instead of a letter to say what a contrite heart you had and how happy you were in the situation that had been provided for you, I was amused—exceedingly amused. Ha ha ha!”
The young man smiled, but not as though the theme were the most agreeable one that could have been selected for his entertainment; and for that reason Quilp pursued it.
“I always will say,” he resumed, “that when a rich relation having two young people—sisters or brothers, or brother and sister—dependent on him, attaches himself exclusively to one, and casts off the other, he does wrong.”
The young man made a movement of impatience, but Quilp went on as calmly as if he were discussing some abstract question in which nobody present had the slightest personal interest.
“It’s very true,” said Quilp, “that your grandfather urged repeated forgiveness, ingratitude, riot, and extravagance, and all that; but as I told him ‘these are common faults.’ ‘But he’s a scoundrel,’ said he. ‘Granting that,’ said I, (for the sake of argument of course), ‘a great many young noblemen and gentlemen are scoundrels too!’ But he wouldn’t be convinced.”
“I wonder at that, Mr. Quilp,” said the young man sarcastically.
“Well, so did I at the time,” returned Quilp, “but he was always obstinate. He was in a manner a friend of mine, but he was always obstinate and wrongheaded. Little Nell is a nice girl, a charming girl, but you’re her brother, Frederick. You’re her brother after all; as you told him the last time you met, he can’t alter that.”
“He would if he could, confound him for that and all other kindnesses,” said the young man impatiently. “But nothing can come of this subject now, and let us have done with it in the Devil’s name.”
“Agreed,” returned Quilp, “agreed on my part, readily. Why have I alluded to it? Just to show you, Frederick, that I have always stood your friend. You little knew who was your friend and who your foe; now did you? You thought I was against you, and so there has been a coolness between us; but it was all on your side, entirely on your side. Let’s shake hands again, Fred.”
With his head sunk down between his shoulders, and a hideous grin overspreading his face, the dwarf stood up and stretched his short arm across the table. After a moment’s hesitation, the young man stretched out his to meet it; Quilp clutched his fingers in a grip that for the moment stopped the current of the blood within them, and pressing his other hand upon his lip and frowning towards the unsuspicious Richard, released them and sat down.
This action was not lost upon Trent, who, knowing that Richard Swiveller was a mere tool in his hands and knew no more of his designs than he thought proper to communicate, saw that the dwarf perfectly understood their relative position, and fully entered into the character of his friend. It is something to be appreciated, even in
