And that was all.
CHAPTER TWENTY
IS A CHAPTER OF LOVE
'Pecksniff,' said Jonas, taking off his hat, to see that the black
crape band was all right; and finding that it was, putting it on again,
complacently; 'what do you mean to give your daughters when they marry?'
'My dear Mr Jonas,' cried the affectionate parent, with an ingenuous
smile, 'what a very singular inquiry!'
'Now, don't you mind whether it's a singular inquiry or a plural one,'
retorted Jonas, eyeing Mr Pecksniff with no great favour, 'but answer
it, or let it alone. One or the other.'
'Hum! The question, my dear friend,' said Mr Pecksniff, laying his hand
tenderly upon his kinsman's knee, 'is involved with many considerations.
What would I give them? Eh?'
'Ah! what would you give 'em?' repeated Jonas.
'Why, that, 'said Mr Pecksniff, 'would naturally depend in a great
measure upon the kind of husbands they might choose, my dear young
friend.'
Mr Jonas was evidently disconcerted, and at a loss how to proceed.
It was a good answer. It seemed a deep one, but such is the wisdom of
simplicity!'
'My standard for the merits I would require in a son-in-law,' said Mr
Pecksniff, after a short silence, 'is a high one.
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