And with innumerable leers, winks, coughs, nods, smiles, and curtseys, all leading to the establishment of a mysterious and confidential understanding between herself and the bride, Mrs. Gamp, invoking a blessing upon the house, leered, winked, coughed, nodded, smiled, and curtseyed herself out of the room.
“But I will say, and I would if I was led a Martha to the Stakes for it,” Mrs. Gamp remarked below stairs, in a whisper, “that she don’t look much like a merry one at this present moment of time.”
“Ah! wait till you hear her laugh!” said Bailey.
“Hem!” cried Mrs. Gamp, in a kind of groan. “I will, child.”
They said no more in the house, for Mrs. Gamp put on her bonnet, Mr. Sweedlepipe took up her box; and Mr. Bailey accompanied them towards Kingsgate Street; recounting to Mrs. Gamp as they went along, the origin and progress of his acquaintance with Mrs. Chuzzlewit and her sister. It was a pleasant instance of this youth’s precocity, that he fancied Mrs. Gamp had conceived a tenderness for him, and was much tickled by her misplaced attachment.
As the door closed heavily behind them, Mrs. Jonas sat down in a chair, and felt a strange chill creep upon her, whilst she looked about the room. It was pretty much as she had known it, but appeared more dreary. She had thought to see it brightened to receive her.
“It ain’t good enough for you, I suppose?” said Jonas, watching her looks.
“Why, it is dull,” said Merry, trying to be more herself.
“It’ll be duller before you’re done with it,” retorted Jonas, “if you give me any of your airs. You’re a nice article, to turn sulky on first coming home! Ecod, you used to have life enough, when you could plague me with it. The gal’s downstairs. Ring the bell for supper, while I take my boots off!”
She roused herself from looking after him as he left the room, to do what he had desired; when the old man Chuffey laid his hand softly on her arm.
“You are not married?” he said eagerly. “Not married?”
“Yes. A month ago. Good Heaven, what is the matter?”
He answered nothing was the matter; and turned from her. But in her fear and wonder, turning also, she saw him raise his trembling hands above his head, and heard him say:
“Oh! woe, woe, woe, upon this wicked house!”
It was her welcome—Home.
XXVII
Showing that old friends may not only appear with new faces, but in false colours. That people are prone to bite, and that biters may sometimes be bitten.
Mr. Bailey, Junior—for the sporting character, whilom of general utility at Todgers’s, had now regularly set up in life under that name, without troubling himself to obtain from the legislature a direct licence in the form of a Private Bill, which of all kinds and classes of bills is without exception the most unreasonable in its charges—Mr. Bailey, Junior, just tall enough to be seen by an inquiring eye, gazing indolently at society from beneath the apron of his master’s cab, drove slowly up and down Pall Mall about the hour of noon, in waiting for his “Governor.” The horse of distinguished family, who had Capricorn for his nephew, and Cauliflower for his brother, showed himself worthy of his high relations by champing at the bit until his chest was white with foam, and rearing like a horse in heraldry; the plated harness and the patent leather glittered in the sun; pedestrians admired; Mr. Bailey was complacent, but unmoved. He seemed to say, “A barrow, good people, a mere barrow; nothing to what we could do, if we chose!” and on he went, squaring his short green arms outside the apron, as if he were hooked on to it by his armpits.
Mr. Bailey had a great opinion of brother to Cauliflower, and estimated his powers highly. But he never told him so. On the contrary, it was his practice, in driving that animal, to assail him with disrespectful, if not injurious, expressions, as, “Ah! would you!” “Did you think it, then?” “Where are you going to now?” “No, you won’t, my lad!” and similar fragmentary remarks. These being usually accompanied by a jerk of the rein, or a crack of the whip, led to many trials of strength between them, and to many contentions for the upper-hand, terminating, now and then, in china-shops, and other unusual goals, as Mr. Bailey had already hinted to his friend Poll Sweedlepipe.
On the present occasion Mr. Bailey, being in spirits, was more than commonly hard upon his charge; in consequence of which that fiery animal confined himself almost entirely to his hind legs in displaying his paces, and constantly got himself into positions with reference to the cabriolet that very much amazed the passengers in the street. But Mr. Bailey, not at all disturbed, had still a shower of pleasantries to bestow on anyone who crossed his path; as, calling to a full-grown coal-heaver in a wagon, who for a moment blocked the way, “Now, young ’un, who trusted you with a cart?” inquiring of elderly ladies who wanted to cross, and ran back again, “Why they didn’t go to the workhouse and get an order to be buried?” tempting boys, with friendly words, to get up behind, and immediately afterwards cutting them down; and the like flashes of a cheerful humour, which he would occasionally relieve by going round St. James’s Square at a hand gallop, and coming slowly into Pall Mall by another entry, as if, in the interval, his pace had been a perfect crawl.
It was not until these amusements had been very often repeated, and the apple-stall at the corner had sustained so many miraculous escapes
