"All right, John, all right," returned the old man, seeing himself
spoken to.
"Only tip him a nod every now and then when he looks off his paper,"
said Wemmick, "and he'll be as happy as a king. We are all attention,
Aged One."
"All right, John, all right!" returned the cheerful old man, so busy and
so pleased, that it really was quite charming.
The Aged's reading reminded me of the classes at Mr. Wopsle's
great-aunt's, with the pleasanter peculiarity that it seemed to come
through a keyhole. As he wanted the candles close to him, and as he was
always on the verge of putting either his head or the newspaper into
them, he required as much watching as a powder-mill. But Wemmick was
equally untiring and gentle in his vigilance, and the Aged read on,
quite unconscious of his many rescues. Whenever he looked at us, we
all expressed the greatest interest and amazement, and nodded until he
resumed again.
As Wemmick and Miss Skiffins sat side by side, and as I sat in a shadowy
corner, I observed a slow and gradual elongation of Mr. Wemmick's mouth,
powerfully suggestive of his slowly and gradually stealing his arm round
Miss Skiffins's waist. In course of time I saw his hand appear on the
other side of Miss Skiffins; but at that moment Miss Skiffins neatly
stopped him with the green glove, unwound his arm again as if it were
an article of dress, and with the greatest deliberation laid it on the
table before her. Miss Skiffins's composure while she did this was one
of the most remarkable sights I have ever seen, and if I could have
thought the act consistent with abstraction of mind, I should have
deemed that Miss Skiffins performed it mechanically.
By and by, I noticed Wemmick's arm beginning to disappear again, and
gradually fading out of view. Shortly afterwards, his mouth began to
widen again. After an interval of suspense on my part that was quite
enthralling and almost painful, I saw his hand appear on the other side
of Miss Skiffins. Instantly, Miss Skiffins stopped it with the neatness
of a placid boxer, took off that girdle or cestus as before, and laid
it on the table. Taking the table to represent the path of virtue, I am
justified in stating that during the whole time of the Aged's reading,
Wemmick's arm was straying from the path of virtue and being recalled to
it by Miss Skiffins.
At last, the Aged read himself into a light slumber. This was the time
for Wemmick to produce a little kettle, a tray of glasses, and a
black bottle with a porcelain-topped cork, representing some clerical
dignitary of a rubicund and social aspect. With the aid of these
appliances we all had something warm to drink, including the Aged, who
was soon awake again. Miss Skiffins mixed, and I observed that she and
Wemmick drank out of one glass. Of course I knew better than to offer to
see Miss Skiffins home, and under the circumstances I thought I had best
go first; which I did, taking a cordial leave of the Aged, and having
passed a pleasant evening.