here.  I am in love, Pinch.  I am in love with one of the most beautiful girls the sun ever shone upon.  But she is wholly and entirely dependent upon the pleasure of my grandfather; and if he were to know that she favoured my passion, she would lose her home and everything she possesses in the world.  My grandfather, although I had conducted myself from the first with the utmost circumspection, is full of jealousy and mistrust, and suspected me of loving her.  He said nothing to her, but attacked me in private, and charged me with designing to corrupt the fidelity to himself—­observe his selfishness—­ of a young creature who was his only disinterested and faithful companion.  The upshot of it was that I was to renounce her or be renounced by him.  Of course, I was not going to yield to him, and here I am!”

Mr. Pinch, after staring at the fire, said, “Pecksniff, of course, you knew before?”

“Only by name.  My grandfather kept not only himself, but me, aloof from all his relations.  But our separation took place in a town in the neighbouring county.  I saw Pecksniff’s advertisement in the paper when I was at Salisbury, and answered it, having always had some natural taste in the matters to which it referred.  I was doubly bent on coming to him if possible, on account of his being—­”

“Such an excellent man,” interposed Tom, rubbing his hands.

“Why, not so much on that account,” returned Martin, “as because my grandfather has an inveterate dislike to him, and after the old man’s arbitrary treatment of me, I had a natural desire to run as directly counter to all his opinions as I could.”

II.—­Mr. Pecksniff Discharges His Duty

Mr. Pecksniff and his daughters took up their lodging in London at Mrs. Todgers’s Commercial Boarding House, and it was at that favoured abode that old Martin Chuzzlewit, whose grandson had just entered Mr. Pecksniff’s house, sought him out.

“I very much regret,” said old Martin, “that you and I held such a conversation as we did when we met awhile since.  The intentions that I bear towards you now are of another kind.  Deserted by all in whom I have ever trusted; hoodwinked and beset by all who should help and sustain me, I fly to you for refuge.  I confide in you to be my ally; to attach yourself to me by ties of interest and expectations.  I regret having been severed from you so long.”

Mr. Pecksniff looked up to the ceiling, and clasped his hands in rapture.

“I fear you don’t know what an old man’s humours are,” resumed old Martin.  “You don’t know what it is to be required to court his likings and dislikings; to do his bidding, be it what it may.  You have a new inmate in your house.  He must quit it.”

“For—­for yours?” asked Mr. Pecksniff.

“For any shelter he can find.  He has deceived you.”

“I hope not,” said Mr. Pecksniff eagerly, “I trust not.  I have been extremely well disposed towards that young man.  Deceit—­deceit, my dear Mr. Chuzzlewit, would be final.  I should hold myself bound, on proof of deceit, to renounce him instantly.”