edit, lean Mrs Todgers, which shall make thee
beautiful!

She was growing beautiful so rapidly in Tom's eyes; for he saw that she
was poor, and that this good had sprung up in her from among the sordid
strivings of her life; that she might have been a very Venus in a minute
more, if Miss Pecksniff had not entered with her friend.

'Mr Thomas Pinch!' said Charity, performing the ceremony of introduction
with evident pride. 'Mr Moddle. Where's my sister?'

'Gone, Miss Pecksniff,' Mrs Todgers answered. 'She had appointed to be
home.'

'Ah!' said Charity, looking at Tom. 'Oh, dear me!'

'She's greatly altered since she's been Anoth--since she's been married,
Mrs Todgers!' observed Moddle.

'My dear Augustus!' said Miss Pecksniff, in a low voice. 'I verily
believe you have said that fifty thousand times, in my hearing. What a
Prose you are!'

This was succeeded by some trifling love passages, which appeared to
originate with, if not to be wholly carried on by Miss Pecksniff. At any
rate, Mr Moddle was much slower in his responses than is customary
with young lovers, and exhibited a lowness of spirits which was quite
oppressive.

He did not improve at all when Tom and he were in the streets, but
sighed so dismally that it was dreadful to hear him. As a means of
cheering him up, Tom told him that he wished him joy.

'Joy!' cried Moddle. 'Ha, ha!'

'What an extraordinary young man!' thought Tom.

'The Scorner has not set his seal upon you. YOU care what becomes of
you?' said Moddle.

Tom admitted that it was a subject in which he certainly felt some
interest.

'I don't,' said Mr Moddle. 'The Elements may have me when they please.
I'm ready.'

Tom inferred from these, and other expressions of the same nature, that
he was jealous. Therefore he allowed him to take his own course; which
was such a gloomy one, that he felt a load removed from his mind when
they parted company at the gate of Furnival's Inn.

It was now a couple of hours past John Westlock's dinner-time; and he
was walking up and down the room, quite anxious for Tom's safety. The
table was spread; the wine was carefully decanted; and the dinner smelt
delicious.

'Why, Tom, old boy, where on earth have you been? Your box is here. Get
your boots off instantly, and sit down!'

'I am sorry to say I can't stay, John,' replied Tom Pinch, who was
breathless with the haste he had made in running up the stairs.

'Can't stay!'

'If you'll go on with y