Mr. Chuzzlewit no sooner gathered who these people were, than he burst open the coach-door somehow or other, and came tumbling out among them; and as if the lunacy of Mr. Tapley were contagious, he immediately began to shake hands too, and exhibit very demonstration of the liveliest joy.
`Get up, behind!' he said. `Get up in the rumble. Come along with me! Go you on the box, Mark. Home! Home!'
`Home!' cried Mr. Tapley, seizing the old man's hand in a burst of enthusiasm. `Exactly my opinion, sir. Home for ever! Excuse the liberty, sir, I can't help it. Success to the Jolly Tapley! There's nothin' in the house they shan't have for the askin' for, except a bill. Home to be sure! Hurrah!'
Home they rolled accordingly, when he had got the old man in again, as fast as they could go; Mark abating nothing of his fervour by the way, by allowing it to vent itself as unrestrainedly as if he had been on Salisbury Plain.
And now the wedding party began to assemble at Todgers's. Mr. Jinkins, the only boarder invited, was on the ground first. He wore a white favour in his button-hole, and a bran new extra super doublemilled blue saxony dress coat (that was its description in the bill), with a variety of tortuous embellishments about the pockets, invented by the artist to do honour to the day. The miserable Augustus no longer felt strongly even on the subject of Jinkins. He hadn't strength of mind enough to do it. `Let him come!' he had said, in answer to Miss Pecksniff, when she urged the point. `Let him come! He has ever been my rock ahead through life. 'Tis meet he should be there. Ha, ha! oh, yes! let Jinkins come!'
Jinkins had come with all the pleasure in life, and there he was. For some few minutes he had no companion but the breakfast, which was set forth in the drawing-room, with unusual taste and ceremony. But Mrs. Todgers soon joined him; and the bachelor cousin, the hairy young gentleman, and Mr. and Mrs. Spottletoe, arrived in quick succession.
Mr. Spottletoe honoured Jinkins with an encouraging bow. `Glad to know you, sir,' he said. `Give you joy!' Under the impression that Jinkins was the happy man.
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.