‘You are dressed, I see, for the wedding,’ he said.
Mrs Todgers, who was greatly flurried by the preparations, replied in the affirmative.
‘It goes against my wishes to have it in progress just now, I assure you, sir,’ said Mrs Todgers; ‘but Miss Pecksniff’s mind was set upon it, and it really is time that Miss Pecksniff was married. That cannot be denied, sir.’
‘No,’ said Mr Chuzzlewit, ‘assuredly not. Her sister takes no part in the proceedings?’
‘Oh, dear no, sir. Poor thing!’ said Mrs Todgers, shaking her head, and dropping her voice. ‘Since she has known the worst, she has never left my room; the next room.’
‘Is she prepared to see me?’ he inquired.
‘Quite prepared, sir.’
‘Then let us lose no time.’
Mrs Todgers conducted him into the little back chamber commanding the prospect of the cistern; and there, sadly different from when it had first been her lodging, sat poor Merry, in mourning weeds. The room looked very dark and sorrowful; and so did she; but she had one friend beside her, faithful to the last. Old Chuffey.
When Mr Chuzzlewit sat down at her side, she took his hand and put it to her lips. She was in great grief. He too was agitated; for he had not seen her since their parting in the churchyard.