Pecksniff knew he had a strong affection for her.
He knew that he showed it in a thousand little ways; that he liked to
have her near him, and was never quite at ease when she was absent
long. That he had ever really sworn to leave her nothing in his will, Mr
Pecksniff greatly doubted. That even if he had, there were many ways by
which he could evade the oath and satisfy his conscience, Mr Pecksniff
knew. That her unprotected state was no light burden on the old man's
mind, he also knew, for Mr Chuzzlewit had plainly told him so. 'Then,'
said Mr Pecksniff 'what if I married her! What,' repeated Mr Pecksniff,
sticking up his hair and glancing at his bust by Spoker; 'what
if, making sure of his approval first--he is nearly imbecile, poor
gentleman--I married her!'

Mr Pecksniff had a lively sense of the Beautiful; especially in women.
His manner towards the sex was remarkable for its insinuating character.
It is recorded of him in another part of these pages, that he embraced
Mrs Todgers on the smallest provocation; and it was a way he had; it was
a part of the gentle placidity of his disposition. Before any thought of
matrimony was in his mind, he had bestowed on Mary many little tokens of
his spiritual admiration. They had been indignantly received, but that
was nothing. True, as the idea expanded within him, these had become
too ardent to escape the piercing eye of Cherry, who read his scheme at
once; but he had always felt the power of Mary's charms. So Interest and
Inclination made a pair, and drew the curricle of Mr Pecksniff's plan.

As to any thought of revenging himself on young Martin for his insolent
expressions when they parted, and of shutting him out still more
effectually from any hope of reconciliation with his grandfather, Mr
Pecksniff was much too meek and forgiving to be suspected of harbouring
it. As to being refused by Mary, Mr Pecksniff was quite satisfied that
in her position she could never hold out if he and Mr Chuzzlewit were
both against her. As to consulting the wishes of her heart in such a
case, it formed no part of Mr Pecksniff's moral code; for he knew what a
good man he was, and what a blessing he must be to anybody. His daughter
having broken the ice, and the murder being out between them, Mr
Pecksniff had now only to pursue his design as cleverly as he could, and
by the craftiest approaches.

'Well, my good sir,' said Mr Pecksniff, meeting old Martin in the
garden, for it was his habi