Chapter 36

by Charles Dickens

　　Private and confidential; relating to Family Matters. Showing howMr Kenwigs underwent violent Agitation, and how Mrs Kenwigs was aswell as could be expectedIt might have been seven o'clock in the evening, and it was growingdark in the narrow streets near Golden Square, when Mr Kenwigs sentout for a pair of the cheapest white kid gloves--those at fourteen-pence--and selecting the strongest, which happened to be the right-hand one, walked downstairs with an air of pomp and much excitement,and proceeded to muffle the knob of the street-door knocker therein.Having executed this task with great nicety, Mr Kenwigs pulled thedoor to, after him, and just stepped across the road to try theeffect from the opposite side of the street. Satisfied that nothingcould possibly look better in its way, Mr Kenwigs then stepped backagain, and calling through the keyhole to Morleena to open the door,vanished into the house, and was seen no longer.Now, considered as an abstract circumstance, there was no moreobvious cause or reason why Mr Kenwigs should take the trouble ofmuffling this particular knocker, than there would have been for hismuffling the knocker of any nobleman or gentleman resident ten milesoff; because, for the greater convenience of the numerous lodgers,the street-door always stood wide open, and the knocker was neverused at all. The first floor, the second floor, and the thirdfloor, had each a bell of its own. As to the attics, no one evercalled on them; if anybody wanted the parlours, they were close athand, and all he had to do was to walk straight into them; while thekitchen had a separate entrance down the area steps. As a questionof mere necessity and usefulness, therefore, this muffling of theknocker was thoroughly incomprehensible.But knockers may be muffled for other purposes than those of mereutilitarianism, as, in the present instance, was clearly shown.There are certain polite forms and ceremonies which must be observedin civilised life, or mankind relapse into their original barbarism.No genteel lady was ever yet confined--indeed, no genteelconfinement can possibly take place--without the accompanying symbolof a muffled knocker. Mrs Kenwigs was a lady of some pretensions togentility; Mrs Kenwigs was confined. And, therefore, Mr Kenwigstied up the silent knocker on the premises in a white kid glove.'I'm not quite certain neither,' said Mr Kenwigs, arranging hisshirt-collar, and walking slowly upstairs, 'whether, as it's a boy,I won't have it in the papers.'Pondering upon the advisability of this step, and the sensation itwas likely to create in the neighbourhood, Mr Kenwigs betook himselfto the sitting-room, where various extremely diminutive articles ofclothing were airing on a horse before the fire, and Mr Lumbey, thedoctor, was dandling the baby--that is, the old baby--not the newone.'It's a fine boy, Mr Kenwigs,' said Mr Lumbey, the doctor.'You consider him a fine boy, do you, sir?' returned Mr Kenwigs.'It's the finest boy I ever saw in all my life,' said the doctor.'I never saw such a baby.'It is a pleasant thing to reflect upon, and furnishes a completeanswer to those who contend for the gradual degeneration of thehuman species, that every baby born into the world is a finer onethan the last.'I ne--ver saw such a baby,' said Mr Lumbey, the doctor.'Morleena was a fine baby,' remarked Mr Kenwigs; as if this wererather an attack, by implication, upon the family.'They were all fine babies,' said Mr Lumbey. And Mr Lumbey went onnursing the baby with a thoughtful look. Whether he was consideringunder what head he could best charge the nursing in the bill, wasbest known to himself.During this short conversation, Miss Morleena, as the eldest of thefamily, and natural representative of her mother during herindisposition, had been hustling and slapping the three younger MissKenwigses, without intermission; which considerate and affectionateconduct brought tears into the eyes of Mr Kenwigs, and caused him todeclare that, in understanding and behaviour, that child was awoman.'She will be a treasure to the man she marries, sir,' said MrKenwigs, half aside; 'I think she'll marry above her station, MrLumbey.''I shouldn't wonder at all,' replied the doctor.'You never see her dance, sir, did you?' asked Mr Kenwigs.The doctor shook his head.'Ay!' said Mr Kenwigs, as though he pitied him from his heart, 'thenyou don't know what she's capable of.'All this time there had been a great whisking in and out of theother room; the door had been opened and shut very softly abouttwenty times a minute (for it was necessary to keep Mrs Kenwigsquiet); and the baby had been exhibited to a score or two ofdeputations from a select body of female friends, who had assembledin the passage, and about the street-door, to discuss the event inall its bearings. Indeed, the excitement extended itself over thewhole street, and groups of ladies might be seen standing at thedoors, (some in the interesting condition in which Mrs Kenwigs hadlast appeared in public,) relating their experiences of similaroccurrences. Some few acquired great credit from having prophesied,the day before yesterday, exactly when it would come to pass;others, again, related, how that they guessed what it was, directlythey saw Mr Kenwigs turn pale and run up the street as hard as everhe could go. Some said one thing, and some another; but all talkedtogether, and all agreed upon two points: first, that it was verymeritorious and highly praiseworthy in Mrs Kenwigs to do as she haddone: and secondly, that there never was such a skilful andscientific doctor as that Dr Lumbey.In the midst of this general hubbub, Dr Lumbey sat in the first-floor front, as before related, nursing the deposed baby, andtalking to Mr Kenwigs. He was a stout bluff-looking gentleman, withno shirt-collar to speak of, and a beard that had been growing sinceyesterday morning; for Dr Lumbey was popular, and the neighbourhoodwas prolific; and there had been no less than three other knockersmuffled, one after the other within the last forty-eight hours.'Well, Mr Kenwigs,' said Dr Lumbey, 'this makes six. You'll have afine family in time, sir.''I think six is almost enough, sir,' returned Mr Kenwigs.'Pooh! pooh!' said the doctor. 'Nonsense! not half enough.'With this, the doctor laughed; but he didn't laugh half as much as amarried friend of Mrs Kenwigs's, who had just come in from the sickchamber to report progress, and take a small sip of brandy-and-water: and who seemed to consider it one of the best jokes everlaunched upon society.'They're not altogether dependent upon good fortune, neither,' saidMr Kenwigs, taking his second daughter on his knee; 'they haveexpectations.''Oh, indeed!' said Mr Lumbey, the doctor.'And very good ones too, I believe, haven't they?' asked the marriedlady.'Why, ma'am,' said Mr Kenwigs, 'it's not exactly for me to say whatthey may be, or what they may not be. It's not for me to boast ofany family with which I have the honour to be connected; at the sametime, Mrs Kenwigs's is--I should say,' said Mr Kenwigs, abruptly,and raising his voice as he spoke, 'that my children might come intoa matter of a hundred pound apiece, perhaps. Perhaps more, butcertainly that.''And a very pretty little fortune,' said the married lady.'There are some relations of Mrs Kenwigs's,' said Mr Kenwigs, takinga pinch of snuff from the doctor's box, and then sneezing very hard,for he wasn't used to it, 'that might leave their hundred poundapiece to ten people, and yet not go begging when they had done it.''Ah! I know who you mean,' observed the married lady, nodding herhead.'I made mention of no names, and I wish to make mention of nonames,' said Mr Kenwigs, with a portentous look. 'Many of myfriends have met a relation of Mrs Kenwigs's in this very room, aswould do honour to any company; that's all.''I've met him,' said the married lady, with a glance towards DrLumbey.'It's naterally very gratifying to my feelings as a father, to seesuch a man as that, a kissing and taking notice of my children,'pursued Mr Kenwigs. 'It's naterally very gratifying to my feelingsas a man, to know that man. It will be naterally very gratifying tomy feelings as a husband, to make that man acquainted with thisewent.'Having delivered his sentiments in this form of words, Mr Kenwigsarranged his second daughter's flaxen tail, and bade her be a goodgirl and mind what her sister, Morleena, said.'That girl grows more like her mother every day,' said Mr Lumbey,suddenly stricken with an enthusiastic admiration of Morleena.'There!' rejoined the married lady. 'What I always say; what Ialways did say! She's the very picter of her.' Having thus directedthe general attention to the young lady in question, the marriedlady embraced the opportunity of taking another sip of the brandy-and-water--and a pretty long sip too.'Yes! there is a likeness,' said Mr Kenwigs, after some reflection.'But such a woman as Mrs Kenwigs was, afore she was married! Goodgracious, such a woman!'Mr Lumbey shook his head with great solemnity, as though to implythat he supposed she must have been rather a dazzler.'Talk of fairies!' cried Mr Kenwigs 'I never see anybody so light tobe alive, never. Such manners too; so playful, and yet so sewerelyproper! As for her figure! It isn't generally known,' said MrKenwigs, dropping his voice; 'but her figure was such, at that time,that the sign of the Britannia, over in the Holloway Road, waspainted from it!''But only see what it is now,' urged the married lady. 'Does shelook like the mother of six?''Quite ridiculous,' cried the doctor.'She looks a deal more like her own daughter,' said the marriedlady.'So she does,' assented Mr Lumbey. 'A great deal more.'Mr Kenwigs was about to make some further observations, mostprobably in confirmation of this opinion, when another married lady,who had looked in to keep up Mrs Kenwigs's spirits, and help toclear off anything in the eating and drinking way that might begoing about, put in her head to announce that she had just been downto answer the bell, and that there was a gentleman at the door whowanted to see Mr Kenwigs 'most particular.'Shadowy visions of his distinguished relation flitted through thebrain of Mr Kenwigs, as this message was delivered; and under theirinfluence, he dispatched Morleena to show the gentleman upstraightway.'Why, I do declare,' said Mr Kenwigs, standing opposite the door soas to get the earliest glimpse of the visitor, as he came upstairs,'it's Mr Johnson! How do you find yourself, sir?'Nicholas shook hands, kissed his old pupils all round, intrusted alarge parcel of toys to the guardianship of Morleena, bowed to thedoctor and the married ladies, and inquired after Mrs Kenwigs in atone of interest, which went to the very heart and soul of thenurse, who had come in to warm some mysterious compound, in a littlesaucepan over the fire.'I ought to make a hundred apologies to you for calling at such aseason,' said Nicholas, 'but I was not aware of it until I had rungthe bell, and my time is so fully occupied now, that I feared itmight be some days before I could possibly come again.''No time like the present, sir,' said Mr Kenwigs. 'The sitiwationof Mrs Kenwigs, sir, is no obstacle to a little conversation betweenyou and me, I hope?''You are very good,' said Nicholas.At this juncture, proclamation was made by another married lady,that the baby had begun to eat like anything; whereupon the twomarried ladies, already mentioned, rushed tumultuously into thebedroom to behold him in the act.'The fact is,' resumed Nicholas, 'that before I left the country,where I have been for some time past, I undertook to deliver amessage to you.''Ay, ay?' said Mr Kenwigs.'And I have been,' added Nicholas, 'already in town for some days,without having had an opportunity of doing so.''It's no matter, sir,' said Mr Kenwigs. 'I dare say it's none theworse for keeping cold. Message from the country!' said Mr Kenwigs,ruminating; 'that's curious. I don't know anybody in the country.''Miss Petowker,' suggested Nicholas.'Oh! from her, is it?' said Mr Kenwigs. 'Oh dear, yes. Ah! MrsKenwigs will be glad to hear from her. Henrietta Petowker, eh? Howodd things come about, now! That you should have met her in thecountry! Well!'Hearing this mention of their old friend's name, the four MissKenwigses gathered round Nicholas, open eyed and mouthed, to hearmore. Mr Kenwigs looked a little curious too, but quite comfortableand unsuspecting.'The message relates to family matters,' said Nicholas, hesitating.'Oh, never mind,' said Kenwigs, glancing at Mr Lumbey, who, havingrashly taken charge of little Lillyvick, found nobody disposed torelieve him of his precious burden. 'All friends here.'Nicholas hemmed once or twice, and seemed to have some difficulty inproceeding.'At Portsmouth, Henrietta Petowker is,' observed Mr Kenwigs.'Yes,' said Nicholas, 'Mr Lillyvick is there.'Mr Kenwigs turned pale, but he recovered, and said, that was an oddcoincidence also.'The message is from him,' said Nicholas.Mr Kenwigs appeared to revive. He knew that his niece was in adelicate state, and had, no doubt, sent word that they were toforward full particulars. Yes. That was very kind of him; so likehim too!'He desired me to give his kindest love,' said Nicholas.'Very much obliged to him, I'm sure. Your great-uncle, Lillyvick,my dears!' interposed Mr Kenwigs, condescendingly explaining it tothe children.'His kindest love,' resumed Nicholas; 'and to say that he had notime to write, but that he was married to Miss Petowker.'Mr Kenwigs started from his seat with a petrified stare, caught hissecond daughter by her flaxen tail, and covered his face with hispocket-handkerchief. Morleena fell, all stiff and rigid, into thebaby's chair, as she had seen her mother fall when she fainted away,and the two remaining little Kenwigses shrieked in affright.'My children, my defrauded, swindled infants!' cried Mr Kenwigs,pulling so hard, in his vehemence, at the flaxen tail of his seconddaughter, that he lifted her up on tiptoe, and kept her, for someseconds, in that attitude. 'Villain, ass, traitor!''Drat the man!' cried the nurse, looking angrily around. 'What doeshe mean by making that noise here?''Silence, woman!' said Mr Kenwigs, fiercely.'I won't be silent,' returned the nurse. 'Be silent yourself, youwretch. Have you no regard for your baby?''No!' returned Mr Kenwigs.'More shame for you,' retorted the nurse. 'Ugh! you unnaturalmonster.''Let him die,' cried Mr Kenwigs, in the torrent of his wrath. 'Lethim die! He has no expectations, no property to come into. We wantno babies here,' said Mr Kenwigs recklessly. 'Take 'em away, take'em away to the Fondling!'With these awful remarks, Mr Kenwigs sat himself down in a chair,and defied the nurse, who made the best of her way into theadjoining room, and returned with a stream of matrons: declaringthat Mr Kenwigs had spoken blasphemy against his family, and must beraving mad.Appearances were certainly not in Mr Kenwigs's favour, for theexertion of speaking with so much vehemence, and yet in such a toneas should prevent his lamentations reaching the ears of Mrs Kenwigs,had made him very black in the face; besides which, the excitementof the occasion, and an unwonted indulgence in various strongcordials to celebrate it, had swollen and dilated his features to amost unusual extent. But, Nicholas and the doctor--who had beenpassive at first, doubting very much whether Mr Kenwigs could be inearnest--interfering to explain the immediate cause of hiscondition, the indignation of the matrons was changed to pity, andthey implored him, with much feeling, to go quietly to bed.'The attention,' said Mr Kenwigs, looking around with a plaintiveair, 'the attention that I've shown to that man! The hyseters hehas eat, and the pints of ale he has drank, in this house--!''It's very trying, and very hard to bear, we know,' said one of themarried ladies; 'but think of your dear darling wife.''Oh yes, and what she's been a undergoing of, only this day,'cried a great many voices. 'There's a good man, do.''The presents that have been made to him,' said Mr Kenwigs,reverting to his calamity, 'the pipes, the snuff-boxes--a pair ofindia-rubber goloshes, that cost six-and-six--''Ah! it won't bear thinking of, indeed,' cried the matronsgenerally; 'but it'll all come home to him, never fear.'Mr Kenwigs looked darkly upon the ladies, as if he would prefer itsall coming home to him, as there was nothing to be got by it; but hesaid nothing, and resting his head upon his hand, subsided into akind of doze.Then, the matrons again expatiated on the expediency of taking thegood gentleman to bed; observing that he would be better tomorrow,and that they knew what was the wear and tear of some men's mindswhen their wives were taken as Mrs Kenwigs had been that day, andthat it did him great credit, and there was nothing to be ashamed ofin it; far from it; they liked to see it, they did, for it showed agood heart. And one lady observed, as a case bearing upon thepresent, that her husband was often quite light-headed from anxietyon similar occasions, and that once, when her little Johnny wasborn, it was nearly a week before he came to himself again, duringthe whole of which time he did nothing but cry 'Is it a boy, is it aboy?' in a manner which went to the hearts of all his hearers.At length, Morleena (who quite forgot she had fainted, when shefound she was not noticed) announced that a chamber was ready forher afflicted parent; and Mr Kenwigs, having partially smothered hisfour daughters in the closeness of his embrace, accepted thedoctor's arm on one side, and the support of Nicholas on the other,and was conducted upstairs to a bedroom which been secured for theoccasion.Having seen him sound asleep, and heard him snore mostsatisfactorily, and having further presided over the distribution ofthe toys, to the perfect contentment of all the little Kenwigses,Nicholas took his leave. The matrons dropped off one by one, withthe exception of six or eight particular friends, who had determinedto stop all night; the lights in the houses gradually disappeared;the last bulletin was issued that Mrs Kenwigs was as well as couldbe expected; and the whole family were left to their repose.