Mrs. Todgers had no doubt about it.
`Mercy and Charity,' said Mr. Pecksniff, `Charity and Mercy. Not unholy names, I hope?'
`Mr. Pecksniff!' cried Mrs. Todgers. `What a ghastly smile! Are you ill, sir?'
He pressed his hand upon her arm, and answered in a solemn manner, and a faint voice, `Chronic.'
`Cholic?' cried the frightened Mrs. Todgers.
`Chron-ic,' he repeated with some difficulty. `Chron-ic. A chronic disorder. I have been its victim from childhood. It is carrying me to my grave.'
`Heaven forbid!' cried Mrs. Todgers.
`Yes, it is,' said Mr. Pecksniff, reckless with despair. `I am rather glad of it, upon the whole. You are like her, Mrs. Todgers.'
`Don't squeeze me so tight, pray, Mr. Pecksniff. If any of the gentlemen should notice us.'
`For her sake,' said Mr. Pecksniff. `Permit me. In honour of her memory. For the sake of a voice from the tomb. You are very like her Mrs. Todgers! What a world this is!'
`Ah! Indeed you may say that!' cried Mrs. Todgers.
`I'm afraid it is a vain and thoughtless world,' said Mr. Pecksniff, overflowing with despondency. `These young people about us. Oh! what sense have they of their responsibilities? None. Give me your, other hand, Mrs. Todgers.'
The lady hesitated, and said `she didn't like.'
`Has a voice from the grave no influence?' said Mr. Pecksniff, with, dismal tenderness. `This is irreligious! My dear creature.'
`Hush!' urged Mrs. Todgers. `Really you mustn't.'
`It's not me,' said Mr. Pecksniff. `Don't suppose it's me: it's the voice; it's her voice.'
Mrs. Pecksniff deceased, must have had an unusually thick and husky voice for a lady, and rather a stuttering voice, and to say the truth somewhat of a drunken voice, if it had ever borne much resemblance to that in which Mr. Pecksniff spoke just then. But perhaps this was delusion on his part.
`It has been a day of enjoyment, Mrs. Todgers, but still it has been a day of torture. It has reminded me of my loneliness. What am I in the world?'
`An excellent gentleman, Mr. Pecksniff,' said Mrs. Todgers.
`There is consolation in that too,' cried Mr. Pecksniff. `Am I?'
`There is no better man living,' said Mrs. Todgers, `I am sure.'
Mr. Pecksniff smiled through his tears, and slightly shook his head. `You are very good,' he said, `thank you. It is a great happiness to me, Mrs. Todgers, to make young people happy. The happiness of my pupils is my chief object. I dote upon 'em. They dote upon me too. Sometimes.'
`Always,' said Mrs. Todgers.