Business disposed of, Mr Swiveller was inwardly reminded of its being nigh dinner-time, and to the intent that his health might not be endangered by longer abstinence, dispached a message to the nearest eating-house requiring an immediate supply of boiled beef and greens for two.With this demand, however, the eating-house (having experience of its customer) declined to comply, churlishly sending back for answer that if Mr Swiveller stood in need of beef perhaps he would be so obliging as to come there and eat it, bringing with him, as grace before meat, the amount of a certin small account which had long been outstanding.Not at all intimidated by this rebuff, but rather sharpened in wits and appetite, Mr Swiveller forwarded the same message to another and more distant eating-house, adding to it by way of rider that the gentleman was induced to send so far, not only by the great fame and popularity its beef had acquired, but in consequence of the extreme toughness of the beef retailed at the obdurant cook's shop, which rendered it quite unfit not merely for gentlemanly food, but for any human consumption.The good effect of this politic course was demonstrated by the speedy arrive of a small pewter pyramid, curously constructed of platters and covers, whereof the boiled-beef-plates formed the base, and a foaming quart-pot the apex; the structure being resolved into its component parts afforded all things requisite and necessary for a hearty meal, to which Mr Swiveller and his friend applied themselves with great keenness and enjoyment.
'May the present moment,' said ****, sticking his fork into a large carbuncular potato, 'be the worst of our lives! I like the plan of sending 'em with the peel on; there's a charm in drawing a poato from its native element (if I may so express it) to which the rich and powerful are strangers.Ah! 'Man wants but little here below, nor wants that little long!' How true that it!--after dinner.'
'I hope the eating-house keeper will want but little and that he may not want that little long,' returned his companion; but I suspect you've no means of paying for this!'
'I shall be passing present, and I'll call,' said ****, winking his eye significantly.'The waiter's quite helpless.The goods are gone, Fred, and there's an end of it.'
In point of fact, it would seem that the waiter felt this wholesome truth, for when he returned for the empty plates and dishes and was informed by Mr Swiveller with dignified carelessness that he would call and setle when he should be passing presently, he displayed some pertubation of spirit and muttered a few remarks about 'payment on delivery' and 'no trust,' and other unpleasant subjects, but was fain to content himself with inquiring at what hour it was likely that the gentleman would call, in order that being presently responsible for the beef , greens, and sundries, he might take to be in the way at the time.Mr Swiveller, after mentally calculating his engagements to a nicety, replied that he should look in at from two minutes before six and seven minutes past; and the man disappearing with this feeble consolation, Richards Swiveller took a greasy memorandum-book from his pocket and made an entry therein.
'Is that a reminder, in case you should forget to call?' said Trent with a sneer.
'Not exactly, Fred,' replied the imperturable Richard, continuing to write with a businesslike air.'I enter in this little book the names of the streets that I can't go down while the shops are open.This dinner today closes Long Acre.I bought a pair of boots in Great Queen Street last week, and made that no throughfare too.There's only one avenue to the Strand left often now, and I shall have to stop up that to-night with a pair of gloves.The roads are closing so fast in every direction, that in a month's time, unless my aunt sends me a remittance, I shall have to go three or four miles out of town to get over the way.'
'There's no fear of failing, in the end?' said Trent.
'Why, I hope not,' returned Mr Swiveller, 'but the average number of letters it take to soften her is six, and this time we have got as far as eight without any effect at all.I'll write another tom-morrow morning.I mean to blot it a good deal and shake some water over it out of the pepper-castor to make it look penitent.'I'm in such a state of mind that I hardly know what I write'--blot--' if you could see me at this minute shedding tears for my past misconduct'--pepper-castor--my hand trembles when I think'--blot again--if that don't produce the effect, it's all over.'
By this time, Mr Swiveller had finished his entry, and he now replaced his pencil in its little sheath and closed the book, in a perfectly grave and serious frame of mind.His friend discovered that it was time for him to fulfil some other engagement, and Richard Swiveller was accordingly left alone, in company with the rosy wine and his own meditations touching Miss Sophy Wackles.
'It's rather sudden,' said **** shaking his head with a look of infinite wisdom, and running on (as he was accustomed to do) with scraps of verse as if they were only prose in a hurry; 'when the heart of a man is depressed with fears, the mist is dispelled when Miss Wackles appears; she's a very nice girl.She's like the red red rose that's newly sprung in June--there's no denying that--she's also like a melody that's sweetly played in tune.It's really very sudden.Not that there's any need, on account of Fred's little sister, to turn cool directly, but its better not to go too far.If I begin to cool at all Imust begin at once, I see that.There's the chance of an action for breach, that's another.There's the chance of--no, there's no chance of that, but it's as well to be on the safe side.'
