‘It’s of no use your going on, then,’ said Cherry, ‘for we have not long left there; and I know she is not at home. But I’ll take you to my sister’s house, if you please. Augustus—Mr Moddle, I mean—and myself, are on our way to tea there, now. You needn’t think of him,’ she added, nodding her head as she observed some hesitation on Tom’s part. ‘He is not at home.’
‘Are you sure?’ asked Tom.
‘Oh, I am quite sure of that. I don’t want any more revenge,’ said Miss Pecksniff, expressively. ‘But, really, I must beg you two gentlemen to walk on, and allow me to follow with Miss Pinch. My dear, I never was so taken by surprise!’
In furtherance of this bashful arrangement, Moddle gave his arm to Tom; and Miss Pecksniff linked her own in Ruth’s.
‘Of course, my love,’ said Miss Pecksniff, ‘it would be useless for me to disguise, after what you have seen, that I am about to be united to the gentleman who is walking with your brother. It would be in vain to conceal it. What do you think of him? Pray, let me have your candid opinion.’
Ruth intimated that, as far as she could judge, he was a very eligible swain.
‘I am curious to know,’ said Miss Pecksniff, with loquacious frankness, ‘whether you have observed, or fancied, in this very short space of time, that he is of a rather melancholy turn?’
‘So very short a time,’ Ruth pleaded.
‘No, no; but don’t let that interfere with your answer,’ returned Miss Pecksniff. ‘I am curious to hear what you say.’
Ruth acknowledged that he had impressed her at first sight as looking ‘rather low.’