Chapter 8

The Old Curiosity Shop

by Charles Dickens

Business disposed of, Mr Swiveller was inwardly reminded of its
being nigh dinner-time, and to the intent that his health might not
be endangered by longer abstinence, dispached a message to the
nearest eating-house requiring an immediate supply of boiled beef and
greens for two. With this demand, however, the eating-house (having
experience of its customer) declined to comply, churlishly sending
back for answer that if Mr Swiveller stood in need of beef perhaps he
would be so obliging as to come there and eat it, bringing with him,
as grace before meat, the amount of a certin small account which had
long been outstanding. Not at all intimidated by this rebuff, but
rather sharpened in wits and appetite, Mr Swiveller forwarded the
same message to another and more distant eating-house, adding to it
by way of rider that the gentleman was induced to send so far, not
only by the great fame and popularity its beef had acquired, but in
consequence of the extreme toughness of the beef retailed at the
obdurant cook's shop, which rendered it quite unfit not merely for
gentlemanly food, but for any human consumption. The good effect of
this politic course was demonstrated by the speedy arrive of a small
pewter pyramid, curously constructed of platters and covers, whereof
the boiled-beef-plates formed the base, and a foaming quart-pot the
apex; the structure being resolved into its component parts afforded
all things requisite and necessary for a hearty meal, to which Mr
Swiveller and his friend applied themselves with great keenness and
enjoyment.

'May the present moment,' said Dick, sticking his fork into a
large carbuncular potato, 'be the worst of our lives! I like the plan
of sending 'em with the peel on; there's a charm in drawing a poato
from its native element (if I may so express it) to which the rich
and powerful are strangers. Ah! 'Man wants but little here below, nor
wants that little long!' How true that it!--after dinner.'

'I hope the eating-house keeper will want but little and that he
may not want that little long,' returned his companion; but I suspect
you've no means of paying for this!'

'I shall be passing present, and I'll call,' said Dick, winking
his eye significantly. 'The waiter's quite helpless. The goods are
gone, Fred, and there's an end of it.'

In point of fact, it would seem that the waiter felt this
wholesome truth, for when he returned for the empty plates and dishes
and was informed by Mr Swiveller with dignified carelessness that he
would call and setle when he should be passing presently, he
displayed some pertubation of spirit and muttered a few remarks about
'payment on delivery' and 'no trust,' and other unpleasant subjects,
but was fain to content himself with inquiring at what hour it was
likely that the gentleman would call, in order that being presently
responsible for the beef , greens, and sundries, he might take to be
in the way at the time. Mr Swiveller, after mentally calculating his
engagements to a nicety, replied that he should look in at from two
minutes before six and seven minutes past; and the man disappearing
with this feeble consolation, Richards Swiveller took a greasy
memorandum-book from his pocket and made an entry therein.

'Is that a reminder, in case you should forget to call?' said
Trent with a sneer.

'Not exactly, Fred,' replied the imperturable Richard,
continuing to write with a businesslike air. 'I enter in this little
book the names of the streets that I can't go down while the shops
are open. This dinner today closes Long Acre. I bought a pair of
boots in Great Queen Street last week, and made that no throughfare
too. There's only one avenue to the Strand left often now, and I
shall have to stop up that to-night with a pair of gloves. The roads
are closing so fast in every direction, that in a month's time,
unless my aunt sends me a remittance, I shall have to go three or
four miles out of town to get over the way.'

'There's no fear of failing, in the end?' said Trent.

'Why, I hope not,' returned Mr Swiveller, 'but the average
number of letters it take to soften her is six, and this time we have
got as far as eight without any effect at all. I'll write another
tom-morrow morning. I mean to blot it a good deal and shake some
water over it out of the pepper-castor to make it look penitent. 'I'm
in such a state of mind that I hardly know what I write'--blot--' if
you could see me at this minute shedding tears for my past
misconduct'--pepper-castor-- my hand trembles when I think'--blot
again--if that don't produce the effect, it's all over.'

By this time, Mr Swiveller had finished his entry, and he now
replaced his pencil in its little sheath and closed the book, in a
perfectly grave and serious frame of mind. His friend discovered that
it was time for him to fulfil some other engagement, and Richard
Swiveller was accordingly left alone, in company with the rosy wine
and his own meditations touching Miss Sophy Wackles.

'It's rather sudden,' said Dick shaking his head with a look of
infinite wisdom, and running on (as he was accustomed to do) with
scraps of verse as if they were only prose in a hurry; 'when the
heart of a man is depressed with fears, the mist is dispelled when
Miss Wackles appears; she's a very nice girl. She's like the red red
rose that's newly sprung in June--there's no denying that--she's also
like a melody that's sweetly played in tune. It's really very sudden.
Not that there's any need, on account of Fred's little sister, to
turn cool directly, but its better not to go too far. If I begin to
cool at all I must begin at once, I see that. There's the chance of
an action for breach, that's another. There's the chance of--no,
there's no chance of that, but it's as well to be on the safe
side.'

This undeveloped was the possibility, which Richard Swiveller
sought to conceal even from himself, of his not being proof against
the charms of Miss Wackles, and in some unguarded moment, by linking
his fortunes to hers forever, of putting it out of his own power to
further their notable scheme to which he had so readily become a
party. For all these reasons, he decided to pick a quarrel with Miss
Wackles without delay, and casting about for a pretext determined in
favour of groundless jealousy. Having made up his mind on this
important point, he circulated the glass (from his right hand to
left, and back again) pretty freely, to enable him to act his part
with the greater discretion, and then, after making some slight
improvements in his toilet, bent his steps towards the spot hallowed
by the fair object of his meditations.

The spot was at Chesea, for there Miss Sophia Wackles resided
with her widowed mother and two sisters, in conjunction with whom she
maintained a very small day-school for young ladies of proportionate
dimensions; a circumstance which was made known to the neighbourhood
by an oval board over the front first-floor windows, whereupon
appeared in circumbmbient flourishes the words 'Ladies' Seminary';
and which was further published and proclaimed at intervals between
the hours of half-past nine and ten in the morning, by a straggling
and solitrary young lady of tender years standing on the scraper on
the tips of her toes and making futile attempts to reach the knocker
with spelling-book. The several duties of instruction in this
establishment were this discharged. English grammar, composition,
geography, and the use of the dumb-bells, by Miss Melissa Wackles;
writing, arthmetic, dancing, music, and general fascination, by Miss
Sophia Wackles; the art of needle-work, marking, and samplery, by
Miss Jane Wackles; corporal punishment, fasting, and other tortures
and terrors, by Mrs Wackles. Miss Melissa Wackles was the eldest
daughter, Miss Sophy the next, and Miss Jane the youngest. Miss
Melissa might have seen five-and-thirty summers or thereabouts, and
verged on the autumnal; Miss Sophy was a fresh, good humoured, busom
girl of twenty; and Miss Jane numbered scarcely sixteen years. Mrs
Wackles was an excellent but rather vemenous old lady of
three-score.

To this Ladies' Seminary, then, Richard Swiveller hied, with
designs obnoxious to the peace of the fair Sophia, who, arrayed in
virgin white, embelished by no ornament but one blushing rose,
received him on his arrival, in the midst of very elegant not to say
brilliant preparations; such as the embellishment of the room with
the little flower-pots which always stood on the window-sill outside,
save in windy weather when they blew into the area; the choice attire
of the day-scholars who were allowed to grace the festival; the
unwonted curls of Miss Jane Wackles who had kept her head during the
whole of the preceding day screwed up tight in a yellow play-bill;
and the solemn gentility and stately bearing of the old lady and her
eldest daughter, which struck Mr Swiveller as being uncommon but made
no further impression upon him.

The truth is--and, as there is no accounting for tastes, even a
taste so strange as this may be recorded without being looked upon as
a wilful and malicious invention--the truth is that neither Mrs
Wackles nor her eldest daughter had at any time greatly favoured the
pretensions of Mr Swiveller, being accustomed to make slight mention
of him as 'a gay young man' and to sigh and shake their heads
ominously whenever his name was mentioned. Mr Swiveller's conduct in
respect to Miss Sophy having been of that vague and dilitory kind
which is usuaully looked upon as betokening no fixed matrimonial
intentions, the young lady herself began in course of time to deem it
highly desirable, that it should be brought to an issue one way or
other. Hence she had at last consented to play off against Richard
Swiveller a stricken market-gardner known to be ready with his offer
on the smallest encouragement, and hence--as this occasion had been
specially assigned for the purpose--that great anxiety on her part
for Richard Swiveller's presence which had occasioned her to leave
the note he has ben seen to receive. 'If he has any expectations at
all or any means of keeping a wife well,' said Mrs Wackles to her
eldest daughter, 'he'll state 'em to us now or never.'--'If he really
cares about me,' thought Miss Sophy, 'he must tell me so,
to-night.'

But all these sayings and doings and thinkings being unknown to
Mr Swiveller, affected him not in the least; he was debating in his
mind how he could best turn jealous, and wishing that Sophy were for
that occasion only far less pretty than she was, or that she were her
own sister, which would have served his turn as well, when the
company came, and among them the market-gardener, whose name was
Cheggs. But Mr Cheggs came not alone or unsupported, for he prudently
brought along with him his sister, Miss Cheggs, who making straight
to Miss Sophy and taking her by both hands, and kissing her on both
cheeks, hoped in an audible whisper that they had not come too
early.

'Too early, no!' replied Miss Sophy.

'Oh, my dear,' rejoined Miss Cheggs in the same whisper as
before, 'I've been so tormented, so worried, that it's a mercy we
were not here at four o'clock in the afternoon. Alick has been in
such a state of impatience to come! You'd hardly believe that he was
dressed before dinner-time and has been looking at the clock and
teasing me ever since. It's all your fault, you naughty thing.'

Hereupon Miss Sophy blushed, and Mr Cheggs (who was bashful
before ladies) blushed too, and Miss Sophy's mother and sisters, to
prevent Mr Cheggs from blushing more, lavished civilities and
attentions upon him, and left Richard Swiveller to take care of
himself. Here was the very thing he wanted, here was good cause
reason and foundation for pretending to be angry; but having this
cause reason and foundation which he had come expressly to seek, not
expecting to find, Richard Swiveller was angry in sound earnest, and
wondered what the devil Cheggs meant by his impudence.

However, Mr Swiveller had Miss Sophy's hand for the first
quadrille (country-dances being low, were utterly proscribed) and so
gained an advantage over his rival, who sat despondingly in a corner
and contemplated the glorious figure of the young lady as she moved
through the mazy dance. Nor was this the only start Mr Swiveller had
of the market-gardener, for determining to show the family what
quality of man they trifled with, and influenced perhaps by his late
libations, he performed such feats of agility and such spins and
twirls as filled the company with astonishment, and in particular
caused a very long gentleman who was dancing with a very short
scholar, to stand quite transfixed by wonder and admiration. Even Mrs
Wackles forgot for the moment to snubb three small young ladies who
were inclined to be happy, and could not repress a rising thought
that to have such a dancer as that in the family would be a pride
indeed.

At this momentous crisis, Miss Cheggs proved herself a vigourous
and useful ally, for not confining herself to expressing by scornful
smiles a contempt for Mr Swiveller's accomplishments, she took every
opportunity of whispering into Miss Sophy's ear expressions of
condolence and sympathy on her being worried by such a ridiculous
creature, declaring that she was frightened to death lest Alick
should fall upon, and beat him, in the fulness of his wrath, and
entreating Miss Sophy to observe how the eyes of the said Alick
gleamed with love and fury; passions, it may be observed, which being
too much for his eyes rushed into his nose also, and suffused it with
a crimson glow.

'You must dance with Miss Chegs,' said Miss Sophy to Dick
Swiviller, after she had herself danced twice with Mr Cheggs and made
great show of encouraging his advances. 'She's a nice girl--and her
brother's quite delightful.'

'Quite delightful, is he?' muttered Dick. 'Quite delighted too,
I should say, from the manner in which he's looking this way.'

Here Miss Jane (previously instructed for the purpose)
interposed her many curls and whispered her sister to observe how
jealous Mr Cheggs was.

'Jealous! Like his impudence!' said Richard Swiviller.

'His impudence, Mr Swiviller!' said Miss Jane, tossing her head.
'Take care he don't hear you, sir, or you may be sorry for it.'

'Oh, pray, Jane --' said Miss Sophy.

'Nonsense!' replied her sister. 'Why shouldn't Mr Cheggs be
jealous if he likes? I like that, certainly. Mr Cheggs has a good a
right to be jealous as anyone else has, and perhaps he may have a
better right soon if he hasn't already. You know best about that,
Sophy!'

Though this was a concerted plot between Miss Sophy and her
sister, originating in humane intenions and having for its object the
inducing Mr Swiviller to declare himself in time, it failed in its
effect; for Miss Jane being one of those young ladies who are
premeturely shrill and shrewish, gave such undue importance to her
part that Mr Swiviller retired in dudgeon, resigning his mistress to
Mr Cheggs and converying a definance into his looks which that
gentleman indignantly returned.

'Did you speak to me, sir?' said Mr Cheggs, following him into a
corner. 'Have the kindness to smile, sir, in order that we may not be
suspected. Did you speak to me, sir'?

Mr Swiviller looked with a supercilious smile at Mr Chegg's
toes, then raised his eyes from them to his ankles, from that to his
shin, from that to his knee, and so on very gradually, keeping up his
right leg, until he reached his waistcoat, when he raised his eyes
from button to button until he reached his chin, and travelling
straight up the middle of his nose came at last to his eyes, when he
said abruptly,

'No, sir, I didn't.'

`'Hem!' said Mr Cheggs, glancing over his shoulder, 'have the
goodness to smile again, sir. Perhaps you wished to speak to me,
sir.'

'No, sir, I didn't do that, either.'

'Perhaps you may have nothing to say to me now, sir,' said Mr
Cheggs fiercely.

At these words Richard Swiviller withdrew his eyes from Mr
Chegg's face, and travelling down the middle of his nose and down his
waistcoat and down his right leg, reached his toes again, and
carefully surveyed him; this done, he crossed over, and coming up the
other legt and thence approaching by the waistcoat as before, said
when had got to his eyes, 'No sir, I haven't.:'

'Oh, indeed, sir!' said Mr Cheggs. 'I'm glad to hear it. You
know where I'm to be found, I suppose, sir, in case you should have
anything to say to me?'

'I can easily inquire, sir, when I want to know.'

'There's nothing more we need say, I believe, sir?'

'Nothing more, sir'--With that they closed the tremendous dialog
by frowning mutually. Mr Cheggs hastened to tender his hand to Miss
Sophy, and Mr Swiviller sat himself down in a corner in a very moody
state.

Hard by this corner, Mrs Wackles and Miss Wackles were seated,
looking on at the dance; and unto Mrs and Miss Wackles, Miss Cheggs
occasionally darted when her partner was occupied with his share of
the figure, and made some remark or other which was gall and wormword
to Richard Swiviller's soul. Looking into the eyes of Mrs and Miss
Wackles for encouragement, and sitting very upright and uncomfortable
on a couple of hard stools, were two of the day-scholars; and when
Miss Wackles smiled, and Mrs Wackles smiled, the two little girls on
the stools sought to curry favour by smiling likewise, in gracious
acknowledgement of which attention the old lady frowned them down
instantly, and said that if they dared to be guilty of such an
impertinence again, they should be sent under convoy to their
respective homes. This threat caused one of the young ladies, she
being of a weak and trembling temperament, to shed tears, and for
this offense they were both filed off immediately, with a dreadful
promptitude that struck terror into the souls of all the pupils.

'I've got such news for you,' said Miss Cheggs approaching once
more, 'Alick has been saying such things to Sophy. Upon my word, you
know, it's quite serious and in earnest, that's clear.'

'What's he been saying, my dear?' demanded Mrs Wackles.

'All manner of things,' replied Miss Cheggs, 'you can't think
how out he has been speaking!'

Richard Swiviller considered it advisable to hear no more, but
taking advantage of a pause in the dancing, and the approach of Mr
Cheggs to pay his court to the old lady, swaggered with an extremely
careful assumption of extreme carelessness toward the door, passing
on the way Miss Jane Wackles, who in all the glory of her curls was
holding a flirtation, (as good practice when no better was to be had)
with a feeble old gentleman who lodged in the parlour. Near the door
sat Miss Sophy, still fluttered and confused by the attentions of Mr
Cheggs, and by her side Richard Swiveller lingered for a moment to
exchange a few parting words.

'My boat is on the shore and my bark is on the sea, but before I
pass this door I will say farewell to thee,' murmured Dick, looking
gloomily upon her.

'Are you going?' said Miss Sophy, whose heart sank within her at
the result of her stratagem, but who affected a light indifference
notwithstanding.

'Am I going!' echoed Dick bitterly. 'Yes, I am. What then?'

'Nothing, except that it's very early,' said Miss Sophy; 'but
you are your own master, of course.'

'I would that I had been my own mistress too,' said Dick,
'before I had ever entertained a thought of you. Miss Wackles, I
believed you true, and I was blest in so believing, but now I mourn
that e'er I knew, a girl so fair yet so deceiving.'

Miss Sophy bit her lip and affected to look with great interest
after Mr Cheggs, who was quaffing lemonade in the distance.

'I came here,' said Dick, rather oblivious of the purpose with
which he had really come, 'with my bosom expanded, my heart dilated,
and my sentiments of a corresponding description. I go away with
feelings that may be conceived but cannot be described, feeling
within myself that desolating truth that my best affections have
experienced this night a stifler!'

'I am sure I don't know what you mean, Mr Swiviller,' said Miss
Sophy with downcast eyes. 'I'm very sorry if--'

'Sorry, Ma'am!' said Dick, 'sorry in the possession of a Cheegs!
But I wish you a very good night, concluding with this slight remark,
that there is a young lady growing up at this present moment for me,
who has not only great personal attractions but great wealth, and who
has requested her next of kin to propose for my hand, which, having a
regard for some members of her family, I have consented to promise.
It's a gratifying circumstance which you'll be glad to hear, that a
young and lovely girl is growing into a woman expressly on my
account, and is now saving up for me. I thought I'd mention it. I
have now merely to apologize for trespassing so long upon your
attention. Good night.'

'There's one good thing springs out of all this,' said Richard
Swiviller to himself when he had reached home and was hanging over
the candle with the extinguisher in his hand, 'which is, that I now
go heart and soul, neck and heels, with Fred in all his scheme about
little Nelly, and right glad he'll be to find me so strong upon it.
He shall know all about that to-morrow, and in the mean time, as it's
rather late, I'll try and get a wink of the balmy.'

'The balmy' came almost as soon as it was courted. In a very few
minutes Mr Swiviller was fast asleep, dreaming that he had married
Nelly Trent and come into the property, and that his first act of
power was to lay waste the market-garden of Mr Cheggs and turn it
into a brick-field.