“‘I knew her mother, Tom,’ said the old fellow; ‘and her grandmother. She was very fond of me—made me this waistcoat, Tom.’
“‘Did she?’ said Tom Smart.
“‘And these shoes,’ said the old fellow lifting up one of the red-cloth mufflers; ‘but don’t mention it, Tom. I shouldn’t like to have it known that she was so much attached to me. It might occasion some unpleasantness in the family.’ When the old rascal said this, he looked so extremely impertinent, that, as Tom Smart afterwards declared, he could have sat upon him without remorse.
“‘I have been a great favourite among the women in my time, Tom,’ said the profligate old debauchee; ‘hundreds of fine women have sat in my lap for hours together. What do you think of that, you dog, eh?’ The old gentleman was proceeding to recount some other exploits of his youth, when he was seized with such a violent fit of creaking that he was unable to proceed.
“‘Just serves you right, old boy,’ thought Tom Smart; but he didn’t say anything.
“‘Ah!’ said the old fellow, ‘I am a good deal troubled with this now. I am getting old, Tom, and have lost nearly all my rails. I have had an operation performed, too—a small piece let into my back—and I found it a severe trial, Tom.’
“‘I dare say you did, sir,’ said Tom Smart.
“‘However,’ said the old gentleman, ‘that’s not the point. Tom! I want you to marry the widow.’
“‘Me, sir!’ said Tom.
“‘You,’ said the old gentleman.