Martin Chuzzlewit. Чарльз Диккенс

the combatants, put an end to the strife, which, after breaking out afresh some twice or thrice in certain inconsiderable spurts and dashes, died away in silence.

      It was then that Mr Pecksniff once more rose from his chair. It was then that the two Miss Pecksniffs composed themselves to look as if there were no such beings – not to say present, but in the whole compass of the world – as the three Miss Chuzzlewits; while the three Miss Chuzzlewits became equally unconscious of the existence of the two Miss Pecksniffs.

      ‘It is to be lamented,’ said Mr Pecksniff, with a forgiving recollection of Mr Spottletoe’s fist, ‘that our friend should have withdrawn himself so very hastily, though we have cause for mutual congratulation even in that, since we are assured that he is not distrustful of us in regard to anything we may say or do while he is absent. Now, that is very soothing, is it not?’

      ‘Pecksniff,’ said Anthony, who had been watching the whole party with peculiar keenness from the first – ‘don’t you be a hypocrite.’

      ‘A what, my good sir?’ demanded Mr Pecksniff.

      ‘A hypocrite.’

      ‘Charity, my dear,’ said Mr Pecksniff, ‘when I take my chamber candlestick to-night, remind me to be more than usually particular in praying for Mr Anthony Chuzzlewit; who has done me an injustice.’

      This was said in a very bland voice, and aside, as being addressed to his daughter’s private ear. With a cheerfulness of conscience, prompting almost a sprightly demeanour, he then resumed:

      ‘All our thoughts centring in our very dear but unkind relative, and he being as it were beyond our reach, we are met to-day, really as if we were a funeral party, except – a blessed exception – that there is no body in the house.’

      The strong-minded lady was not at all sure that this was a blessed exception. Quite the contrary.

      ‘Well, my dear madam!’ said Mr Pecksniff. ‘Be that as it may, here we are; and being here, we are to consider whether it is possible by any justifiable means – ’

      ‘Why, you know as well as I,’ said the strong-minded lady, ‘that any means are justifiable in such a case, don’t you?’

      ‘Very good, my dear madam, very good; whether it is possible by any means, we will say by any means, to open the eyes of our valued relative to his present infatuation. Whether it is possible to make him acquainted by any means with the real character and purpose of that young female whose strange, whose very strange position, in reference to himself’ – here Mr Pecksniff sunk his voice to an impressive whisper – ‘really casts a shadow of disgrace and shame upon this family; and who, we know’ – here he raised his voice again – ‘else why is she his companion? harbours the very basest designs upon his weakness and his property.’

      In their strong feeling on this point, they, who agreed in nothing else, all concurred as one mind. Good Heaven, that she should harbour designs upon his property! The strong-minded lady was for poison, her three daughters were for Bridewell and bread-and-water, the cousin with the toothache advocated Botany Bay, the two Miss Pecksniffs suggested flogging. Nobody but Mr Tigg, who, notwithstanding his extreme shabbiness, was still understood to be in some sort a lady’s man, in right of his upper lip and his frogs, indicated a doubt of the justifiable nature of these measures; and he only ogled the three Miss Chuzzlewits with the least admixture of banter in his admiration, as though he would observe, ‘You are positively down upon her to too great an extent, my sweet creatures, upon my soul you are!’

      ‘Now,’ said Mr Pecksniff, crossing his two forefingers in a manner which was at once conciliatory and argumentative; ‘I will not, upon the one hand, go so far as to say that she deserves all the inflictions which have been so very forcibly and hilariously suggested;’ one of his ornamental sentences; ‘nor will I, upon the other, on any account compromise my common understanding as a man, by making the assertion that she does not. What I would observe is, that I think some practical means might be devised of inducing our respected, shall I say our revered – ?’

      ‘No!’ interposed the strong-minded woman in a loud voice.

      ‘Then I will not,’ said Mr Pecksniff. ‘You are quite right, my dear madam, and I appreciate and thank you for your discriminating objection – our respected relative, to dispose himself to listen to the promptings of nature, and not to the – ’

      ‘Go on, Pa!’ cried Mercy.

      ‘Why, the truth is, my dear,’ said Mr Pecksniff, smiling upon his assembled kindred, ‘that I am at a loss for a word. The name of those fabulous animals (pagan, I regret to say) who used to sing in the water, has quite escaped me.’

      Mr George Chuzzlewit suggested ‘swans.’

      ‘No,’ said Mr Pecksniff. ‘Not swans. Very like swans, too. Thank you.’

      The nephew with the outline of a countenance, speaking for the first and last time on that occasion, propounded ‘Oysters.’

      ‘No,’ said Mr Pecksniff, with his own peculiar urbanity, ‘nor oysters. But by no means unlike oysters; a very excellent idea; thank you, my dear sir, very much. Wait! Sirens. Dear me! sirens, of course. I think, I say, that means might be devised of disposing our respected relative to listen to the promptings of nature, and not to the siren-like delusions of art. Now we must not lose sight of the fact that our esteemed friend has a grandson, to whom he was, until lately, very much attached, and whom I could have wished to see here to-day, for I have a real and deep regard for him. A fine young man, a very fine young man! I would submit to you, whether we might not remove Mr Chuzzlewit’s distrust of us, and vindicate our own disinterestedness by – ’

      ‘If Mr George Chuzzlewit has anything to say to me,’ interposed the strong-minded woman, sternly, ‘I beg him to speak out like a man; and not to look at me and my daughters as if he could eat us.’

      ‘As to looking, I have heard it said, Mrs Ned,’ returned Mr George, angrily, ‘that a cat is free to contemplate a monarch; and therefore I hope I have some right, having been born a member of this family, to look at a person who only came into it by marriage. As to eating, I beg to say, whatever bitterness your jealousies and disappointed expectations may suggest to you, that I am not a cannibal, ma’am.’

      ‘I don’t know that!’ cried the strong-minded woman.

      ‘At all events, if I was a cannibal,’ said Mr George Chuzzlewit, greatly stimulated by this retort, ‘I think it would occur to me that a lady who had outlived three husbands, and suffered so very little from their loss, must be most uncommonly tough.’

      The strong-minded woman immediately rose.

      ‘And I will further add,’ said Mr George, nodding his head violently at every second syllable; ‘naming no names, and therefore hurting nobody but those whose consciences tell them they are alluded to, that I think it would be much more decent and becoming, if those who hooked and crooked themselves into this family by getting on the blind side of some of its members before marriage, and manslaughtering them afterwards by crowing over them to that strong pitch that they were glad to die, would refrain from acting the part of vultures in regard to other members of this family who are living. I think it would be full as well, if not better, if those individuals would keep at home, contenting themselves with what they have got (luckily for them) already; instead of hovering about, and thrusting their fingers into, a family pie, which they flavour much more than enough, I can tell them, when they are fifty miles away.’

      ‘I might have been prepared for this!’ cried the strong-minded woman, looking about her with a disdainful smile as she moved towards the door, followed by her three daughters. ‘Indeed I was fully prepared for it from the first. What else could I expect in such an atmosphere as this!’

      ‘Don’t direct your halfpay-officers’ gaze at me, ma’am, if you please,’ interposed Miss Charity; ‘for I won’t bear it.’

      This was a smart stab at a pension enjoyed by the strong-minded woman, during her second widowhood and before her last coverture. It told immensely.

      ‘I passed from the memory of a grateful country,