‘Where the aggravation of it is. Any man may be in good spirits and good temper when he’s well dressed. There an’t much credit in that. If I was very ragged and very jolly, then I should begin to feel I had gained a point, Mr Pinch.’
‘So you were singing just now, to bear up, as it were, against being well dressed, eh, Mark?’ said Pinch.
‘Your conversation’s always equal to print, sir,’ rejoined Mark, with a broad grin. ‘That was it.’
‘Well!’ cried Pinch, ‘you are the strangest young man, Mark, I ever knew in my life. I always thought so; but now I am quite certain of it. I am going to Salisbury, too. Will you get in? I shall be very glad of your company.’
The young fellow made his acknowledgments and accepted the offer; stepping into the carriage directly, and seating himself on the very edge of the seat with his body half out of it, to express his being there on sufferance, and by the politeness of Mr Pinch. As they went along, the conversation proceeded after this manner.
‘I more than half believed, just now, seeing you so very smart,’ said Pinch, ‘that you must be going to be married, Mark.’
‘Well, sir, I’ve thought of that, too,’ he replied. ‘There might be some credit in being jolly with a wife, ‘specially if the children had the measles and that, and was very fractious indeed. But I’m a’most afraid to try it. I don’t see my way clear.’
‘You’re not very fond of anybody, perhaps?’ said Pinch.
‘Not particular, sir, I think.’
‘But the way would be, you know, Mark, according to your views of things,’ said Mr Pinch, ‘to marry somebody you didn’t like, and who was very disagreeable.’