Charles Dickens - Sketches by Boz

“Here's the gentleman you want,” said Ikey, abruptly breaking off in his story, and introducing Mr. Gabriel Parsons to the crestfallen Watkins Tottle, who at that moment entered the room. Watkins advanced with a wooden expression of passive endurance, and accepted the hand which Mr. Gabriel Parsons held out.

“I want to speak to you,” said Gabriel, with a look strongly expressive of his dislike of the company.

“This way,” replied the imprisoned one, leading the way to the front drawing-room, where rich debtors did the luxurious at the rate of a couple of guineas a day.

“Well, here I am,” said Mr. Watkins, as he sat down on the sofa; and placing the palms of his hands on his knees, anxiously glanced at his friend's countenance.

“Yes; and here you're likely to be,” said Gabriel, coolly, as he rattled the money in his unmentionable pockets, and looked out of the window.

“What's the amount with the costs?” inquired Parsons, after an awkward pause.

“Have you any money?”

“Nine and sixpence halfpenny.”

Mr. Gabriel Parsons walked up and down the room for a few seconds, before he could make up his mind to disclose the plan he had formed; he was accustomed to drive hard bargains, but was always most anxious to conceal his avarice. At length he stopped short, and said, “Tottle, you owe me fifty pounds.”

“I do.”

“And from all I see, I infer that you are likely to owe it to me.”

“I fear I am.”

“Though you have every disposition to pay me if you could?”

“Certainly.”

“Then,” said Mr. Gabriel Parsons, “listen: here's my proposition. You know my way of old. Accept it—yes or no—I will or I won't. I'll pay the debt and costs, and I'll lend you 10L. more (which, added to your annuity, will enable you to carry on the war well) if you'll give me your note of hand to pay me one hundred and fifty pounds within six months after you are married to Miss Lillerton.”

“My dear—”

“Stop a minute—on one condition; and that is, that you propose to Miss Lillerton at once.”

“At once! My dear Parsons, consider.”

“It's for you to consider, not me. She knows you well from reputation, though she did not know you personally until lately. Notwithstanding all her maiden modesty, I think she'd be devilish glad to get married out of hand with as little delay as possible. My wife has sounded her on the subject, and she has confessed.”

“What—what?” eagerly interrupted the enamoured Watkins.

“Why,” replied Parsons, “to say exactly what she has confessed, would be rather difficult, because they only spoke in hints, and so forth; but my wife, who is no bad judge in these cases, declared to me that what she had confessed was as good as to say that she was not insensible of your merits—in fact, that no other man should have her.”

Mr. Watkins Tottle rose hastily from his seat, and rang the bell.

“What's that for?” inquired Parsons.

“I want to send the man for the bill stamp,” replied Mr. Watkins Tottle.

“Then you've made up your mind?”

“I have,”—and they shook hands most cordially. The note of hand was given—the debt and costs were paid—Ikey was satisfied for his trouble, and the two friends soon found themselves on that side of Mr. Solomon Jacobs's establishment, on which most of his visitors were very happy when they found themselves once again—to wit, the outside.

“Now,” said Mr. Gabriel Parsons, as they drove to Norwood together—“you shall have an opportunity to make the disclosure to-night, and mind you speak out, Tottle.”

“I will—I will!” replied Watkins, valorously.

“How I should like to see you together,” ejaculated Mr. Gabriel Parsons.—“What fun!” and he laughed so long and so loudly, that he disconcerted Mr. Watkins Tottle, and frightened the horse.

“There's Fanny and your intended walking about on the lawn,” said Gabriel, as they approached the house. “Mind your eye, Tottle.”

“Never fear,” replied Watkins, resolutely, as he made his way to the spot where the ladies were walking.

“Here's Mr. Tottle, my dear,” said Mrs. Parsons, addressing Miss Lillerton. The lady turned quickly round, and acknowledged his courteous salute with the same sort of confusion that Watkins had noticed on their first interview, but with something like a slight expression of disappointment or carelessness.

“Did you see how glad she was to see you?” whispered Parsons to his friend.

“Why, I really thought she looked as if she would rather have seen somebody else,” replied Tottle.

“Pooh, nonsense!” whispered Parsons again—“it's always the way with the women, young or old. They never show how delighted they are to see those whose presence makes their hearts beat. It's the way with the whole sex, and no man should have lived to your time of life without knowing it. Fanny confessed it to me, when we were first married, over and over again—see what it is to have a wife.”

“Certainly,” whispered Tottle, whose courage was vanishing fast.

“Well, now, you'd better begin to pave the way,” said Parsons, who, having invested some money in the speculation, assumed the office of director.

“Yes, yes, I will—presently,” replied Tottle, greatly flurried.

“Say something to her, man,” urged Parsons again. “Confound it! pay her a compliment, can't you?”

“No! not till after dinner,” replied the bashful Tottle, anxious to postpone the evil moment.

“Well, gentlemen,” said Mrs. Parsons, “you are really very polite; you stay away the whole morning, after promising to take us out, and when you do come home, you stand whispering together and take no notice of us.”

“We were talking of the BUSINESS, my dear, which detained us this morning,” replied Parsons, looking significantly at Tottle.

“Dear me! how very quickly the morning has gone,” said Miss Lillerton, referring to the gold watch, which was wound up on state occasions, whether it required it or not.

“I think it has passed very slowly,” mildly suggested Tottle.

('That's right—bravo!') whispered Parsons.

“Indeed!” said Miss Lillerton, with an air of majestic surprise.

“I can only impute it to my unavoidable absence from your society, madam,” said Watkins, “and that of Mrs. Parsons.”

During this short dialogue, the ladies had been leading the way to the house.

“What the deuce did you stick Fanny into that last compliment for?” inquired Parsons, as they followed together; “it quite spoilt the effect.”

“Oh! it really would have been too broad without,” replied Watkins Tottle, “much too broad!”

“He's mad!” Parsons whispered his wife, as they entered the drawing-room, “mad from modesty.”

“Dear me!” ejaculated the lady, “I never heard of such a thing.”

“You'll find we have quite a family dinner, Mr. Tottle,” said Mrs. Parsons, when they sat down to table: “Miss Lillerton is one of us, and, of course, we make no stranger of you.”

Mr. Watkins Tottle expressed a hope that the Parsons family never would make a stranger of him; and wished internally that his bashfulness would allow him to feel a little less like a stranger himself.

“Take off the covers, Martha,” said Mrs. Parsons, directing the shifting of the scenery with great anxiety. The order was obeyed, and a pair of boiled fowls, with tongue and et ceteras, were displayed at the top, and a fillet of veal at the bottom. On one side of the table two green sauce-tureens, with ladles of the same, were setting to each other in a green dish; and on the other was a curried rabbit, in a brown suit, turned up with lemon.

“Miss Lillerton, my dear,” said Mrs. Parsons, “shall I assist you?”