to me than I should have any right to hope, if I were the most sanguine creature in the world; or should have any power to express, if I were the most eloquent. It really overpowers me. But trust me,' said Tom, `that I am not ungrateful; that I never forget; and that if I can ever prove the truth of my words to you, I will.'
`That's all right,' observed Martin, leaning back in his chair with a hand in each pocket, and yawning drearily. `Very fine talking, Tom; but I'm at Pecksniff's, I remember, and perhaps a mile or so out of the high-road to fortune just at this minute. So you've heard again this morning from what's his name, eh?'
`Who may that be?' asked Tom, seeming to enter a mild protest on behalf of the dignity of an absent person.
`You know. What is it? Northkey.'
`Westlock,' rejoined Tom, in rather a louder tone than usual.
`Ah! to be sure,' said Martin, `Westlock. I knew it was something connected with a point of the compass and a door. Well! and what says Westlock?'
`Oh! he has come into his property,' answered Tom, nodding his head, and smiling.
`He's a lucky dog,' said Martin. `I wish it were mine instead. Is that all the mystery you were to tell me?'
`No,' said Tom: `not all.'
`What's the rest?' asked Martin.
`For the matter of that,' said Tom, `it's no mystery, and you won't think much of it; but it's very pleasant to me. John always used to say when he was here, "Mark my words, Pinch. When my father's executors cash up"--he used strange expressions now and then, but that was his way.'
`Cash-up's a very good expression,' observed Martin, `when other people don't apply it to you. Well? What a slow fellow you are, Pinch!'
`Yes, I am I know,' said Tom; `but you'll make me nervous if you tell me so. I'm afraid you have put me out a little now, for I forget what I was going to say.'
`When John's father's executors cashed up,' said Martin impatiently.
`Oh yes, to be sure,' cried Tom; `yes. "Then," says John, "I'll give you a dinner, Pinch, and come down to Salisbury on purpose." Now, when John wrote the other day--the morning Pecksniff left, you know--he said his business was on the point of being immediately settled, and as he was to receive his money directly, when could I meet him at Salisbury? I wrote and said, any day this week; and I told him besides, that there was a new pupil here, and what a fine fellow you were, and what friends we had become. Upon which John writes back this letter'--Tom produced it--`fixes to-morrow; sends his compliments to you; and begs that we three may have the pleasure of dining together; not at the house where you and I were, either; but at the very first hotel in the town. Read what he says.'
`Very well,' said Martin, glancing over it with his customary coolness: `much obliged to him. I'm agreeable.'
Tom could have wished him to be a little more astonished, a little more pleased, or in some form or other a little more interested in such a great event. But he was perfectly self-obsessed: and falling into his favourite solace of whistling, took another turn at the grammar-school, as if nothing at all had happened.
Mr. Pecksniff's horse being regarded in the light of a sacred animal, only to be driven by him, the chief priest of that temple, or by some person distinctly nominated for the time being to that high office by