'I am very happy to find that she has some good fortune at last,'
returned Miss Pecksniff, tossing her head. 'I congratulate her, I
am sure. I am not surprised that this event should be painful to
her--painful to her--but I can't help that, Mr Chuzzlewit. It's not my
fault.'
'Come, Miss Pecksniff!' said the old man, quietly. 'I should like to see
a better parting between you. I should like to see a better parting on
your side, in such circumstances. It would make me your friend. You may
want a friend one day or other.'
'Every relation of life, Mr Chuzzlewit, begging your pardon; and every
friend in life,' returned Miss Pecksniff, with dignity, 'is now bound up
and cemented in Augustus. So long as Augustus is my own, I cannot want
a friend. When you speak of friends, sir, I must beg, once for all, to
refer you to Augustus. That is my impression of the religious ceremony
in which I am so soon to take a part at that altar to which Augustus
will conduct me. I bear no malice at any time, much less in a moment of
triumph, towards any one; much less towards my sister. On the contrary,
I congratulate her.
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