IT WAS MORNING; AND THE BEAUTIFUL AURORA, of whom so much hath been written, said, and sung, did, with her rosy fingers, nip and tweak Miss Pecksniff's nose. It was the frolicsome custom of the Goddess, in her intercourse with the fair Cherry, so to do; or in more prosaic phrase, the tip of that feature in the sweet girl's countenance was always very red at breakfast-time. For the most part, indeed, it wore, at that season of the day, a scraped and frosty look, as if it had been rasped; while a similar phenomenon developed itself in her humour, which was then observed to be of a sharp and acid quality, as though an extra lemon (figuratively speaking) had been squeezed into the nectar of her disposition, and had rather damaged its `flavour'.
This additional pungency on the part of the fair young creature led, on ordinary occasions, to such slight consequences as the copious dilution of Mr. Pinch's tea, or to his coming off uncommonly short in respect of butter, or to other the like results. But on the morning after the Installation Banquet, she suffered him to wander to and fro among the eatables and drinkables, a perfectly free and unchecked man; so utterly to Mr. Pinch's wonder and confusion, that like the wretched captive who recovered his liberty in his old age, he could make but little use of his enlargement, and fell into a strange kind of flutter for want of some kind hand to scrape his bread, and cut him off in the article of sugar with a lump, and pay him those other little attentions to which he was accustomed. There was something almost awful, too, about the self-possession of the new pupil; who `troubled'
Mr. Pecksniff for the loaf, and helped himself to a rasher of that gentleman's own particular and private bacon, with all the coolness in life. He even seemed to think that he was doing quite a regular thing, and to expect that Mr. Pinch would follow his example, since he took occasion to observe of that young man `that he didn't get on:' -- a speech of so tremendous a character, that Tom cast down his eyes involuntarily, and felt as if he himself had committed some horrible deed and heinous breach of Mr. Pecksniff's confidence. Indeed, the agony of having such an indiscreet remark addressed to him before the assembled family, was breakfast enough in itself, and would, without any other matter of reflection, have settled Mr. Pinch's business and quenched his appetite, for one meal, though he had been never so hungry.
The young ladies, however, and Mr. Pecksniff likewise, remained in the very best of spirits in spite of these severe trials, though with something of a mysterious understanding among themselves. When the meal was nearly over, Mr. Pecksniff smilingly explained the cause of their common satisfaction.
`It is not often,' he said, `Martin, that my daughters and I desert our quiet home to pursue the giddy round of pleasures that revolves abroad.
But we think of doing so to-day.'
`Indeed, sir!' cried the new pupil.
`Yes,' said Mr. Pecksniff, tapping his left hand with a letter which he held in his right. `I have a summons here to repair to London; on professional business, my dear Martin; strictly on professional business; and I promised my girls, long ago, that whenever that happened again, they should accompany me. We shall go forth to-night by the heavy coach -- like the dove of old, my dear Martin -- and it will be a week before we again deposit our olive-branches in the passage. When I say olive-branches,' observed Mr. Pecksniff, in explanation, `I mean, our unpretending luggage.'
`I hope the young ladies will enjoy their trip,' said Martin.
`Oh! that I'm sure we shall!' cried Mercy, clapping her hands. `Good gracious, Cherry, my darling, the idea of London!'
`Ardent child!' said Mr. Pecksniff, gazing on her in a dreamy way. `And yet there is a melancholy sweetness in these youthful hopes! It is pleasant to know that they never can be realised. I remember thinking once myself, in the days of my childhood, that pickled onions grew on trees, and that every elephant was born with an impregnable castle on his back. I have not found the fact to be so; far from it; and yet those visions have comforted me under circumstances of trial. Even when I have had the anguish of discovering that I have nourished in my breast on ostrich, and not a human pupil: even in that hour of agony, they have soothed me.'
At this dread allusion to John Westlock, Mr. Pinch precipitately choked in his tea; for he had that very morning received a letter from him, as Mr. Pecksniff very well knew.
`You will take care, my dear Martin,' said Mr. Pecksniff, resuming his former cheerfulness, `that the house does not run away in our absence.
We leave you in charge of everything. There is no mystery; all is free and open. Unlike the young man in the Eastern tale --who is described as a one-eyed almanack, if I am not mistaken, Mr. Pinch?'
`A one-eyed calender, I think, sir,' faltered Tom.
`They are pretty nearly the same thing, I believe,' said Mr. Pecksniff, smiling compassionately; `or they used to be in my time. Unlike that young man, my dear Martin, you are forbidden to enter no corner of this house; but are requested to make yourself perfectly at home in every part of it.
You will be jovial, my dear Martin, and will kill the fatted calf if you please!'
There was not the least objection, doubtless, to the young man's slaughtering and appropriating to his own use any calf, fat or lean, that he might happen to find upon the premises; but as no such animal chanced at that time to be grazing on Mr. Pecksniff's estate, this request must be considered rather as a polite compliment that a substantial hospitality. It was the finishing ornament of the conversation; for when he had delivered it, Mr. Pecksniff rose and led the way to that hot-bed of architectural genius, the two-pair front.
