Mr Jinkins explained. He was merely doing the honours for his friend Moddle, who had ceased to reside in the house, and had not yet arrived.
‘Not arrived, sir!’ exclaimed Spottletoe, in a great heat.
‘Not yet,’ said Mr Jinkins.
‘Upon my soul!’ cried Spottletoe. ‘He begins well! Upon my life and honour this young man begins well! But I should very much like to know how it is that every one who comes into contact with this family is guilty of some gross insult to it. Death! Not arrived yet. Not here to receive us!’
The nephew with the outline of a countenance, suggested that perhaps he had ordered a new pair of boots, and they hadn’t come home.
‘Don’t talk to me of Boots, sir!’ retorted Spottletoe, with immense indignation. ‘He is bound to come here in his slippers then; he is bound to come here barefoot. Don’t offer such a wretched and evasive plea to me on behalf of your friend, as Boots, sir.’
‘He is not my friend,’ said the nephew. ‘I never saw him.’
‘Very well, sir,’ returned the fiery Spottletoe. ‘Then don’t talk to me!’
The door was thrown open at this juncture, and Miss Pecksniff entered, tottering, and supported by her three bridesmaids. The strong-minded woman brought up the rear; having waited outside until now, for the purpose of spoiling the effect.
‘How do you do, ma’am!’ said Spottletoe to the strong-minded woman in a tone of defiance. ‘I believe you see Mrs Spottletoe, ma’am?’