“So cheerful he is!” said Sam.

“In such good spirits!” said Muzzle.

“And so glad to see us ⁠—that makes it so much more comfortable,” said Sam. “Sit down; sit down.”

Mr. Trotter suffered himself to be forced into a chair by the fireside. He cast his small eyes, first on Mr. Weller, and then on Mr. Muzzle, but said nothing.

“Well, now,” said Sam, “afore these here ladies, I should jest like to ask you, as a sort of curiosity, whether you don’t consider yourself as nice and well-behaved a young gen’l’m’n, as ever used a pink check pocket-handkerchief, and the number four collection?”