stonishing--'would have crawled into her
daily walks otherwise, and polluted the fresh air. What's this? Her hand
is trembling strangely. See if you can hold it.'

Hold it! If he clasped it half as tightly as he did her waist. Well,
well!

But it was good in him that even then, in his high fortune and
happiness, with her lips nearly printed on his own, and her proud young
beauty in his close embrace, he had a hand still left to stretch out to
Tom Pinch.

'Oh, Tom! Dear Tom! I saw you, accidentally, coming here. Forgive me!'

'Forgive!' cried Tom. 'I'll never forgive you as long as I live, Martin,
if you say another syllable about it. Joy to you both! Joy, my dear
fellow, fifty thousand times.'

Joy! There is not a blessing on earth that Tom did not wish them. There
is not a blessing on earth that Tom would not have bestowed upon them,
if he could.

'I beg your pardon, sir,' said Mr Tapley, stepping forward, 'but yow was
mentionin', just now, a lady of the name of Lupin, sir.'

'I was,' returned old Martin

'Yes, sir. It's a pretty name, sir?'

'A very good name,' said Martin.

'It seems a'most a pity to change such a name into Tapley. Don't it,
sir?' said Mark.

'That depends upon the lady. What is HER opinion?'

'Why, sir,' said Mr Tapley, retiring, with a bow, towards the buxom
hostess, 'her opinion is as the name ain't a change for the better, but
the indiwidual may be, and, therefore, if nobody ain't acquainted
with no jest cause or impediment, et cetrer, the Blue Dragon will be
con-werted into the Jolly Tapley. A sign of my own inwention, sir. Wery
new, conwivial, and expressive!'

The whole of these proceedings were so agreeable to Mr Pecksniff that
he stood with his eyes fixed upon the floor and his hands clasping one
another alternately, as if a host of penal sentences were being passed
upon him. Not only did his figure appear to have shrunk, but his
discomfiture seemed to have extended itself even to his dress. His
clothes seemed to have grown shabbier, his linen to have turned yellow,
his hair to have become lank and frowsy; his very boots looked villanous
and dim, as if their gloss had departed with his own.

Feeling, rather than seeing, that the old man now pointed to the door,
he raised his eyes, picked up his hat, and thus addressed him:

'Mr Chuzzlewit, sir! you have partaken of my hospitality.'

'And paid for it,' he observed.

'Thank you. That savours,' said Mr Pecksniff, taking ou