Tom had
hazarded some most erroneous and extravagantly wrong guess in relation
to the price of this article, and had joined his sister in laughing
heartily at his mistake, when he pressed her arm in his, and pointed to
two persons at a little distance, who were looking in at the same window
with a deep interest in the chests of drawers and tables.
'Hush!' Tom whispered. 'Miss Pecksniff, and the young gentleman to whom
she is going to be married.'
'Why does he look as if he was going to be buried, Tom?' inquired his
little sister.
'Why, he is naturally a dismal young gentleman, I believe,' said Tom
'but he is very civil and inoffensive.'
'I suppose they are furnishing their house,' whispered Ruth.
'Yes, I suppose they are,' replied Tom. 'We had better avoid speaking to
them.'
They could not very well avoid looking at them, however, especially
as some obstruction on the pavement, at a little distance, happened to
detain them where they were for a few moments. Miss Pecksniff had quite
the air of having taken the unhappy Moddle captive, and brought him
up to the contemplation of the furniture like a lamb to the altar.
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