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'Because that cookery-book advises suet, said John Westlock; 'and ours was made with flour and eggs. 'Oh good gracious! cried Tom. 'Ours was made with flour and eggs, was it? Ha, ha, ha! A beefsteak pudding made with flour and eggs! Why anybody knows better than that. I know better than that! Ha, ha, ha!
The reader will recall to mind the fact that it was in the last-named locality, with its sprightly, sparkling, upward-springing stream, that Ruth Pinch "gentle, loving Ruth" held tryst with her lover, manly John Westlock.
'Why, then, said Tom, 'we must try for it. My friend, John Westlock, is a capital fellow, and very shrewd and intelligent. I'll take his advice. We'll talk it over with him both of us together. You'll like John very much, when you come to know him, I am certain. Don't cry, don't cry. YOU make a beef-steak pudding, indeed! said Tom, giving her a gentle push.
Laughter won it; and they all three laughed together. 'I have ordered everything for dinner, that we used to say we'd have, Tom, observed John Westlock. 'No! said Tom Pinch. 'Have you? 'Everything. Don't laugh, if you can help it, before the waiters. I couldn't when I was ordering it. It's like a dream.
What is the domestic news since yesterday? John Westlock is gone, I hope? 'Indeed, no, said Charity. 'And why not? returned her father. 'His term expired yesterday. And his box was packed, I know; for I saw it, in the morning, standing in the hall. 'He slept last night at the Dragon, returned the young lady, 'and had Mr Pinch to dine with him.
No slight circumstance, perhaps, could have better illustrated the difference of character between John Westlock and Martin Chuzzlewit, than the manner in which each of the young men contemplated Tom Pinch, after the little rupture just described. There was a certain amount of jocularity in the looks of both, no doubt, but there all resemblance ceased.
John Westlock replied in the negative; and Martin, expressing himself perfectly satisfied, begged them not to say another word; though he could not help wondering very much what curious office Tom held, and why he was so secret, and embarrassed, and unlike himself, in reference to it.
I beg your pardon with all my heart. 'You have a free and manly temper, I know, said Pinch; 'and therefore, your being so ungenerous in this one solitary instance, only grieves me the more. It's not my pardon you have to ask, John. You have done ME nothing but kindnesses. 'Well! Pecksniff's pardon then, said young Westlock. 'Anything Tom, or anybody. Pecksniff's pardon will that do?
John Westlock hurried after her. Softly the whispering water broke and fell; as roguishly the dimples twinkled, as he stole upon her footsteps. Oh, foolish, panting, timid little heart, why did she feign to be unconscious of his coming! Why wish herself so far away, yet be so flutteringly happy there! 'I felt sure it was you, said John, when he overtook her in the sanctuary of Garden Court.
'No intrusion, Mr Pinch, said that gentleman very sweetly, but without looking round. 'Pray be seated, Mr Pinch. Have the goodness to shut the door, Mr Pinch, if you please. 'Certainly, sir, said Pinch; not doing so, however, but holding it rather wider open than before, and beckoning nervously to somebody without: 'Mr Westlock, sir, hearing that you were come home
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