Though he said this with a vast amount of consideration for Mr. Pinch's comfort, he dragged one of the great leather-bottomed chairs to the very centre of the hearth, notwithstanding; and sat down in front of the fire, with a foot on each hob.
`My feet are quite numbed. Ah! Bitter cold to be sure.'
`You have been in the air some considerable time, I dare say?' said Mr. Pinch.
`All day. Outside a coach, too.'
`That accounts for his making the room so cool,' thought Mr. Pinch. `Poor fellow! How thoroughly chilled he must be!'
The stranger became thoughtful likewise, and sat for five or ten minutes looking at the fire in silence. At length he rose and divested himself of his shawl and great-coat, which (far different from Mr. Pinch's) was a very warm and thick one; but he was not a whit more conversational out of his great-coat than in it, for he sat down again in the same place and attitude, and leaning back in his chair, began to bite his nails. He was young -- one-and-twenty, perhaps -- and handsome; with a keen dark eye, and a quickness of look and manner which made Tom sensible of a great contrast in his own bearing, and caused him to feel even more shy than usual.
There was a clock in the room, which the stranger often turned to look at. Tom made frequent reference to it also; partly from a nervous sympathy with its taciturn companion; and partly because the new pupil was to inquire for him at half after six, and the hands were getting on towards that hour. Whenever the stranger caught him looking at this clock, a kind of confusion came upon Tom as if he had been found out in something; and it was a perception of his uneasiness which caused the younger man to say, perhaps, with a smile:
`We both appear to be rather particular about the time. The fact is, I have an engagement to meet a gentleman here.'
`So have I,' said Mr. Pinch.
`At half-past six,' said the stranger.
`At half-past six,' said Tom in the very same breath; whereupon the other looked at him with some surprise.
`The young gentleman, I expect,' remarked Tom, timidly, `was to inquire at that time for a person by the name of Pinch.'
`Dear me!' cried the other, jumping up. `And I have been keeping the fire from you all this while! I had no idea you were Mr. Pinch. I am the Mr. Martin for whom you were to inquire. Pray excuse me. How do you do? Oh, do draw nearer, pray!'
`Thank you,' said Tom, `thank you. I am not at all cold, and you are: and we have a cold ride before us. Well, if you wish it, I will. I--I am very glad,' said Tom, smiling with an embarrassed frankness peculiarly his, and which was as plainly a confession of his own imperfections, and an appeal to the kindness of the person he addressed, as if he had drawn one up in simple language and committed it to paper: `I am very glad indeed that you turn out to be the party I expected. I was thinking, but a minute ago, that I could wish him to be like you.'
`I am very glad to hear it,' returned Martin, shaking hands with him again; `for I assure you, I was thinking there could be no such luck as Mr. Pinch's turning out like you.'
`No, really!' said Tom, with great pleasure. `Are you serious?'