Our Mutual Friend - The Original Classic Edition. Dickens Charles

walk, as if he had struck out an entirely original conception.

       In the mean time a stray personage of a meek demeanour, who had wandered to the hearthrug and got among the heads of tribes assembled there in conference with Mr Podsnap, eliminated Mr Podsnap's flush and flourish by a highly unpolite remark; no less than a reference to the circumstance that some half-dozen people had lately died in the streets, of starvation. It was clearly ill-timed after dinner. It was not adapted to the cheek of the young person. It was not in good taste.

       'I don't believe it,' said Mr Podsnap, putting it behind him.

       The meek man was afraid we must take it as proved, because there were the Inquests and the Registrar's returns.

       'Then it was their own fault,' said Mr Podsnap.

       Veneering and other elders of tribes commended this way out of it. At once a short cut and a broad road.

       The man of meek demeanour intimated that truly it would seem from the facts, as if starvation had been forced upon the culprits in question--as if, in their wretched manner, they had made their weak protests against it--as if they would have taken the liberty of staving it off if they could--as if they would rather not have been starved upon the whole, if perfectly agreeable to all parties.

       'There is not,' said Mr Podsnap, flushing angrily, 'there is not a country in the world, sir, where so noble a provision is made for the

       poor as in this country.'

       The meek man was quite willing to concede that, but perhaps it rendered the matter even worse, as showing that there must be

       something appallingly wrong somewhere.

       'Where?' said Mr Podsnap.

       The meek man hinted Wouldn't it be well to try, very seriously, to find out where?

       'Ah!' said Mr Podsnap. 'Easy to say somewhere; not so easy to say where! But I see what you are driving at. I knew it from the first. Centralization. No. Never with my consent. Not English.'

       An approving murmur arose from the heads of tribes; as saying, 'There you have him! Hold him!'

       He was not aware (the meek man submitted of himself) that he was driving at any ization. He had no favourite ization that he knew of. But he certainly was more staggered by these terrible occurrences than he was by names, of howsoever so many syllables. Might he ask, was dying of destitution and neglect necessarily English?

       'You know what the population of London is, I suppose,' said Mr Podsnap.

       The meek man supposed he did, but supposed that had absolutely nothing to do with it, if its laws were well administered.

       'And you know; at least I hope you know;' said Mr Podsnap, with severity, 'that Providence has declared that you shall have the poor

       always with you?'

       The meek man also hoped he knew that.

       'I am glad to hear it,' said Mr Podsnap with a portentous air. 'I am glad to hear it. It will render you cautious how you fly in the face

       of Providence.'

       In reference to that absurd and irreverent conventional phrase, the meek man said, for which Mr Podsnap was not responsible, he

       the meek man had no fear of doing anything so impossible; but--

       But Mr Podsnap felt that the time had come for flushing and flourishing this meek man down for good. So he said:

       'I must decline to pursue this painful discussion. It is not pleasant to my feelings; it is repugnant to my feelings. I have said that I do not admit these things. I have also said that if they do occur (not that I admit it), the fault lies with the sufferers themselves. It is not for ME'--Mr Podsnap pointed 'me' forcibly, as adding by implication though it may be all very well for YOU--'it is not for me to

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       impugn the workings of Providence. I know better than that, I trust, and I have mentioned what the intentions of Providence are.

       Besides,' said Mr Podsnap, flushing high up among his hairbrushes, with a strong consciousness of personal affront, 'the subject is a very disagreeable one. I will go so far as to say it is an odious one. It is not one to be introduced among our wives and young persons, and I--' He finished with that flourish of his arm which added more expressively than any words, And I remove it from the face of the earth.

       Simultaneously with this quenching of the meek man's ineffectual fire; Georgiana having left the ambler up a lane of sofa, in a No Thoroughfare of back drawing-room, to find his own way out, came back to Mrs Lammle. And who should be with Mrs Lammle, but Mr Lammle. So fond of her!

       'Alfred, my love, here is my friend. Georgiana, dearest girl, you must like my husband next to me.

       Mr Lammle was proud to be so soon distinguished by this special commendation to Miss Podsnap's favour. But if Mr Lammle were prone to be jealous of his dear Sophronia's friendships, he would be jealous of her feeling towards Miss Podsnap.

       'Say Georgiana, darling,' interposed his wife.

       'Towards--shall I?--Georgiana.' Mr Lammle uttered the name, with a delicate curve of his right hand, from his lips outward. 'For never have I known Sophronia (who is not apt to take sudden likings) so attracted and so captivated as she is by--shall I once more?--Georgiana.'

       The object of this homage sat uneasily enough in receipt of it, and then said, turning to Mrs Lammle, much embarrassed:

       'I wonder what you like me for! I am sure I can't think.'

       'Dearest Georgiana, for yourself. For your difference from all around you.'

       'Well! That may be. For I think I like you for your difference from all around me,' said Georgiana with a smile of relief.

       'We must be going with the rest,' observed Mrs Lammle, rising with a show of unwillingness, amidst a general dispersal. 'We are real friends, Georgiana dear?'

       'Real.'

       'Good night, dear girl!'

       She had established an attraction over the shrinking nature upon which her smiling eyes were fixed, for Georgiana held her hand while she answered in a secret and half-frightened tone:

       'Don't forget me when you are gone away. And come again soon. Good night!'

       Charming to see Mr and Mrs Lammle taking leave so gracefully, and going down the stairs so lovingly and sweetly. Not quite so charming to see their smiling faces fall and brood as they dropped moodily into separate corners of their little carriage. But to be sure that was a sight behind the scenes, which nobody saw, and which nobody was meant to see.

       Certain big, heavy vehicles, built on the model of the Podsnap plate, took away the heavy articles of guests weighing ever so much; and the less valuable articles got away after their various manners; and the Podsnap plate was put to bed. As Mr Podsnap stood with his back to the drawing-room fire, pulling up his shirtcollar, like a veritable cock of the walk literally pluming himself in the midst of his possessions, nothing would have astonished him more than an intimation that Miss Podsnap, or any other young person properly born and bred, could not be exactly put away like the plate, brought out like the plate, polished like the plate, counted, weighed, and valued like the plate. That such a young person could possibly have a morbid vacancy in the heart for anything younger than the plate, or less monotonous than the plate; or that such a young person's thoughts could try to scale the region bounded on the north,

       south, east, and west, by the plate; was a monstrous imagination which he would on the spot have flourished into space. This perhaps in some sort arose from Mr Podsnap's blushing young person being, so to speak, all cheek; whereas there is a possibility that there may be young persons of a rather more complex organization.

       If Mr Podsnap, pulling up his shirtcollar, could only have heard himself called 'that fellow' in a certain short dialogue, which passed

       between Mr and Mrs Lammle in their opposite corners of their little carriage, rolling home!

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       'Sophronia, are you awake?'

       'Am I likely to be asleep, sir?'