diffidence assailed him as to blowing it, so shortly after its having assumed a personal and delicate, not to say public, character; but he overcame his scruples by degrees, and modestly took that liberty under an implied protest.
“Lammle,” he said sneakingly, when that was done, “I hope we are friends again?”
“ Mr. Fledgeby,” returned Lammle, “say no more.”
“I must have gone too far in making myself disagreeable,” said Fledgeby, “but I never intended it.”
“Say no more, say no more!” Mr. Lammle repeated in a magnificent tone. “Give me your”—Fledgeby started—“hand.”
They shook hands, and on Mr. Lammle’s part, in particular, there ensued great geniality. For, he was quite as much of a dastard as the other, and had been in equal danger of falling into the second place for good, when he took heart just in time, to act upon the information conveyed to him by Fledgeby’s eye.
The breakfast ended in a perfect understanding. Incessant machinations were to be kept at work by Mr. and Mrs. Lammle; love was to be made for Fledgeby, and conquest was to be insured to him; he on his part very humbly admitting his defects as to the softer social arts, and entreating to be backed to the utmost by his two able coadjutors.
Little recked Mr. Podsnap of the traps and toils besetting his young person. He regarded her as safe within the Temple of Podsnappery, hiding the fullness of time when she, Georgiana, should take him, Fitz-Podsnap, who with all his worldly goods should her endow. It would call a blush into the cheek of his standard Young Person to have anything to do with such matters save to take as directed, and with worldly goods as