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Circumlocution Office. His curious sense of a general superiority to

Daniel Doyce, which seemed to be founded, not so much on anything

in Doyce's personal character as on the mere fact of his being an

originator and a man out of the beaten track of other men, suggested the

idea. It might have occupied him until he went down to dinner an hour

afterwards, if he had not had another question to consider, which

had been in his mind so long ago as before he was in quarantine at

Marseilles, and which had now returned to it, and was very urgent with

it. No less a question than this: Whether he should allow himself to

fall in love with Pet?

He was twice her age. (He changed the leg he had crossed over the other,

and tried the calculation again, but could not bring out the total at

less.) He was twice her age. Well! He was young in appearance, young

in health and strength, young in heart. A man was certainly not old

at forty; and many men were not in circumstances to marry, or did not

marry, until they had attained that time of life. On the other hand, the

question was, not what he thought of the point, but what she thought of

it.

He believed that Mr Meagles was disposed to entertain a ripe regard for

him, and he knew that he had a sincere regard for Mr Meagles and his

good wife. He could foresee that to relinquish this beautiful only

child, of whom they were so fond, to any husband, would be a trial

of their love which perhaps they never yet had had the fortitude to

contemplate. But the more beautiful and winning and charming she, the

nearer they must always be to the necessity of approaching it. And why

not in his favour, as well as in another's?

When he had got so far, it came again into his head that the question

was, not what they thought of it, but what she thought of it.

Arthur Clennam was a retiring man, with a sense of many deficiencies;

and he so exalted the merits of the beautiful Minnie in his mind, and

depressed his own, that when he pinned himself to this point, his hopes

began to fail him. He came to the final resolution, as he made himself

ready for dinner, that he would not allow himself to fall in love with

Pet.

There were only five, at a round table, and it was very pleasant indeed.

They had so many places and people to recall, and they were all so easy

and cheerful together (Daniel Doyce either sitting out like an amused

spectator at cards, or coming in with some shrewd little experiences of

his own, when it happened to be to the purpose), that they might have

been together twenty times, and not have known so much of one another.

'And Miss Wade,' said Mr Meagles, after they had recalled a number of

fellow-travellers. 'Has anybody seen Miss Wade?'

'I have,' said Tattycoram.

She had brought a little mantle which her young mistress had sent for,

and was bending over her, putting it on, when she lifted up her dark

eyes and made this unexpected answer.

'Tatty!' her young mistress exclaimed. 'You seen Miss Wade?--where?'

'Here, miss,' said Tattycoram.

'How?'

An impatient glance from Tattycoram seemed, as Clennam saw it, to answer

'With my eyes!' But her only answer in words was: 'I met her near the

church.'

'What was she doing there I wonder!' said Mr Meagles. 'Not going to it,

I should think.'

'She had written to me first,' said Tattycoram.

'Oh, Tatty!' murmured her mistress, 'take your hands away. I feel as if

some one else was touching me!'

She said it in a quick involuntary way, but half playfully, and not more

petulantly or disagreeably than a favourite child might have done, who

laughed next moment. Tattycoram set her full red lips together, and

crossed her arms upon her bosom. 'Did you wish to know, sir,' she said,

looking at Mr Meagles, 'what Miss Wade wrote to me about?'

'Well, Tattycoram,' returned Mr Meagles, 'since you ask the question,

and we are all friends here, perhaps you may as well mention it, if you

are so inclined.'

'She knew, when we were travelling, where you lived,' said Tattycoram,

'and she had seen me not quite--not quite--'

'Not quite in a good temper, Tattycoram?' suggested Mr Meagles,

shaking his head at the dark eyes with a quiet caution. 'Take a little

time--count five-and-twenty, Tattycoram.'

She pressed her lips together again, and took a long deep breath.

'So she wrote to me to say that if I ever felt myself hurt,' she looked

down at her young mistress, 'or found myself worried,' she looked down

at her again, 'I might go to her, and be considerately treated. I was

to think of it, and could speak to her by the church. So I went there to

thank her.'

'Tatty,' said her young mistress, putting her hand up over her shoulder

that the other might take it, 'Miss Wade almost frightened me when we

parted, and I scarcely like to think of her just now as having been so

near me without my knowing it. Tatty dear!'

Tatty stood for a moment, immovable.

'Hey?' cried Mr Meagles. 'Count another five-and-twenty, Tattycoram.'

She might have counted a dozen, when she bent and put her lips to the

caressing hand. It patted her cheek, as it touched the owner's beautiful

curls, and Tattycoram went away.

'Now there,' said Mr Meagles softly, as he gave a turn to the

dumb-waiter on his right hand to twirl the sugar towards himself.

'There's a girl who might be lost and ruined, if she wasn't among

practical people. Mother and I know, solely from being practical, that

there are times when that girl's whole nature seems to roughen itself

against seeing us so bound up in Pet. No father and mother were bound

up in her, poor soul. I don't like to think of the way in which that

unfortunate child, with all that passion and protest in her, feels when

she hears the Fifth Commandment on a Sunday. I am always inclined to

call out, Church, Count five-and-twenty, Tattycoram.'

Besides his dumb-waiter, Mr Meagles had two other not dumb waiters in

the persons of two parlour-maids with rosy faces and bright eyes, who

were a highly ornamental part of the table decoration. 'And why not, you

see?' said Mr Meagles on this head. 'As I always say to Mother, why

not have something pretty to look at, if you have anything at all?' A

certain Mrs Tickit, who was Cook and Housekeeper when the family were

at home, and Housekeeper only when the family were away, completed the

establishment. Mr Meagles regretted that the nature of the duties in

which she was engaged, rendered Mrs Tickit unpresentable at present,

but hoped to introduce her to the new visitor to-morrow. She was an

important part of the Cottage, he said, and all his friends knew her.

That was her picture up in the corner. When they went away, she always

put on the silk-gown and the jet-black row of curls represented in that

portrait (her hair was reddish-grey in the kitchen), established herself

in the breakfast-room, put her spectacles between two particular leaves

of Doctor Buchan's Domestic Medicine, and sat looking over the blind all

day until they came back again. It was supposed that no persuasion could

be invented which would induce Mrs Tickit to abandon her post at the

blind, however long their absence, or to dispense with the attendance

of Dr Buchan; the lucubrations of which learned practitioner, Mr Meagles

implicitly believed she had never yet consulted to the extent of one

word in her life.

In the evening they played an old-fashioned rubber; and Pet sat looking

over her father's hand, or singing to herself by fits and starts at the

piano. She was a spoilt child; but how could she be otherwise? Who could

be much with so pliable and beautiful a creature, and not yield to her

endearing influence? Who could pass an evening in the house, and not

love her for the grace and charm of her very presence in the room? This

was Clennam's reflection, notwithstanding the final conclusion at which

he had arrived up-stairs.

In making it, he revoked. 'Why, what are you thinking of, my good sir?'

asked the astonished Mr Meagles, who was his partner.

'I beg your pardon. Nothing,' returned Clennam.

'Think of something, next time; that's a dear fellow,' said Mr Meagles.

Pet laughingly believed he had been thinking of Miss Wade.

'Why of Miss Wade, Pet?' asked her father.

'Why, indeed!' said Arthur Clennam.

Pet coloured a little, and went to the piano again.

As they broke up for the night, Arthur overheard Doyce ask his host if

he could give him half an hour's conversation before breakfast in the

morning? The host replying willingly, Arthur lingered behind a moment,

having his own word to add to that topic.

'Mr Meagles,' he said, on their being left alone, 'do you remember when

you advised me to go straight to London?'

'Perfectly well.' 'And when you gave me some other good advice which I

needed at that time?'

'I won't say what it was worth,' answered Mr Meagles: 'but of course I

remember our being very pleasant and confidential together.'

'I have acted on your advice; and having disembarrassed myself of an

occupation that was painful to me for many reasons, wish to devote

myself and what means I have, to another pursuit.'

'Right! You can't do it too soon,' said Mr Meagles.

'Now, as I came down to-day, I found that your friend, Mr Doyce, is

looking for a partner in his business--not a partner in his mechanical

knowledge, but in the ways and means of turning the business arising

from it to the best account.'

'Just so,' said Mr Meagles, with his hands in his pockets, and with

the old business expression of face that had belonged to the scales and

scoop.

'Mr Doyce mentioned incidentally, in the course of our conversation,

that he was going to take your valuable advice on the subject of finding

such a partner. If you should think our views and opportunities at all

likely to coincide, perhaps you will let him know my available position.

I speak, of course, in ignorance of the details, and they may be

unsuitable on both sides.'

'No doubt, no doubt,' said Mr Meagles, with the caution belonging to the

scales and scoop.

'But they will be a question of figures and accounts--'

'Just so, just so,' said Mr Meagles, with arithmetical solidity

belonging to the scales and scoop.

'--And I shall be glad to enter into the subject, provided Mr Doyce

responds, and you think well of it. If you will at present, therefore,

allow me to place it in your hands, you will much oblige me.'

'Clennam, I accept the trust with readiness,' said Mr Meagles. 'And

without anticipating any of the points which you, as a man of business,

have of course reserved, I am free to say to you that I think something

may come of this. Of one thing you may be perfectly certain. Daniel is

an honest man.'

'I am so sure of it that I have promptly made up my mind to speak to

you.' 'You must guide him, you know; you must steer him; you must direct

him; he is one of a crotchety sort,' said Mr Meagles, evidently meaning

nothing more than that he did new things and went new ways; 'but he is

as honest as the sun, and so good night!' Clennam went back to his room,

sat down again before his fire, and made up his mind that he was glad

he had resolved not to fall in love with Pet. She was so beautiful,

so amiable, so apt to receive any true impression given to her gentle

nature and her innocent heart, and make the man who should be so happy

as to communicate it, the most fortunate and enviable of all men, that

he was very glad indeed he had come to that conclusion.

But, as this might have been a reason for coming to the opposite

conclusion, he followed out the theme again a little way in his mind; to

justify himself, perhaps.

'Suppose that a man,' so his thoughts ran, 'who had been of age some

twenty years or so; who was a diffident man, from the circumstances of

his youth; who was rather a grave man, from the tenor of his life; who

knew himself to be deficient in many little engaging qualities which

he admired in others, from having been long in a distant region, with

nothing softening near him; who had no kind sisters to present to her;

who had no congenial home to make her known in; who was a stranger in

the land; who had not a fortune to compensate, in any measure, for

these defects; who had nothing in his favour but his honest love and his

general wish to do right--suppose such a man were to come to this house,

and were to yield to the captivation of this charming girl, and were to

persuade himself that he could hope to win her; what a weakness it would

be!'

He softly opened his window, and looked out upon the serene river. Year

after year so much allowance for the drifting of the ferry-boat, so

many miles an hour the flowing of the stream, here the rushes, there the

lilies, nothing uncertain or unquiet.

Why should he be vexed or sore at heart? It was not his weakness that he

had imagined. It was nobody's, nobody's within his knowledge; why should

it trouble him? And yet it did trouble him. And he thought--who has not

thought for a moment, sometimes?--that it might be better to flow away

monotonously, like the river, and to compound for its insensibility to

happiness with its insensibility to pain.

CHAPTER 17. Nobody's Rival

Before breakfast in the morning, Arthur walked out to look about him.

As the morning was fine and he had an hour on his hands, he crossed the

river by the ferry, and strolled along a footpath through some meadows.

When he came back to the towing-path, he found the ferry-boat on the

opposite side, and a gentleman hailing it and waiting to be taken over.