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then。 No； believe me！' the Defaulter would proceed with a shake of the
head。 'I'd pay up so quick then； Mr Pancks； that you shouldn't have to
ask me。'
The response would be heard again here； implying that it was impossible
to say anything fairer； and that this was the next thing to paying the
money down。
Mr Pancks would be now reduced to saying as he booked the case； 'Well！
You'll have the broker in； and be turned out； that's what'll happen to
you。 It's no use talking to me about Mr Merdle。 You are not Mr Merdle；
any more than I am。'
'No； sir；' the Defaulter would reply。 'I only wish you were him； sir。'
The response would take this up quickly； replying with great feeling；
'Only wish you were him； sir。'
'You'd be easier with us if you were Mr Merdle； sir；' the Defaulter
would go on with rising spirits； 'and it would be better for all
parties。 Better for our sakes； and better for yours； too。 You wouldn't
have to worry no one； then； sir。 You wouldn't have to worry us； and you
wouldn't have to worry yourself。 You'd be easier in your own mind； sir；
and you'd leave others easier； too； you would； if you were Mr Merdle。'
Mr Pancks； in whom these impersonal pliments produced an irresistible
sheepishness； never rallied after such a charge。 He could only bite
his nails and puff away to the next Defaulter。 The responsive Bleeding
Hearts would then gather round the Defaulter whom he had just abandoned；
and the most extravagant rumours would circulate among them； to their
great fort； touching the amount of Mr Merdle's ready money。
From one of the many such defeats of one of many rent…days； Mr Pancks；
having finished his day's collection； repaired with his note…book
under his arm to Mrs Plornish's corner。 Mr Pancks's object was not
professional； but social。 He had had a trying day； and wanted a little
brightening。 By this time he was on friendly terms with the Plornish
family； having often looked in upon them at similar seasons； and borne
his part in recollections of Miss Dorrit。
Mrs Plornish's shop…parlour had been decorated under her own eye； and
presented； on the side towards the shop； a little fiction in which Mrs
Plornish unspeakably rejoiced。 This poetical heightening of the parlour
consisted in the wall being painted to represent the exterior of a
thatched cottage； the artist having introduced （in as effective a manner
as he found patible with their highly disproportionate dimensions）
the real door and window。 The modest sunflower and hollyhock were
depicted as flourishing with great luxuriance on this rustic dwelling；
oke issuing from the chimney indicated good
cheer within； and also； perhaps； that it had not been lately swept。
A faithful dog was represented as flying at the legs of the friendly
visitor； from the threshold； and a circular pigeon…house； enveloped in a
cloud of pigeons； arose from behind the garden…paling。 On the door （when
it was shut）； appeared the semblance of a brass…plate； presenting
the inscription； Happy Cottage； T。 and M。 Plornish； the partnership
expressing man and wife。 No Poetry and no Art ever charmed the
imagination more than the union of the two in this counterfeit cottage
charmed Mrs Plornish。 It was nothing to her that Plornish had a habit
of leaning against it as he smoked his pipe after work； when his
hat blotted out the pigeon…house and all the pigeons； when his back
swallowed up the dwelling； when his hands in his pockets uprooted the
blooming garden and laid waste the adjacent country。 To Mrs Plornish； it
was still a most beautiful cottage； a most wonderful deception； and
it made no difference that Mr Plornish's eye was some inches above the
level of the gable bed…room in the thatch。 To e out into the shop
after it was shut； and hear her father sing a song inside this cottage；
was a perfect Pastoral to Mrs Plornish； the Golden Age revived。 And
truly if that famous period had been revived； or had ever been at all；
it may be doubted whether it would have produced many more heartily
admiring daughters than the poor woman。
Warned of a visitor by the tinkling bell at the shop…door； Mrs Plornish
came out of Happy Cottage to see who it might be。 'I guessed it was
you； Mr Pancks；' said she； 'for it's quite your regular night； ain't it？
Here's father； you see； e out to serve at the sound of the bell； like
a brisk young shopman。 Ain't he looking well？ Father's more pleased to
see you than if you was a customer； for he dearly loves a gossip； and
when it turns upon Miss Dorrit； he loves it all the more。 You never
heard father in such voice as he is at present；' said Mrs Plornish； her
own voice quavering； she was so proud and pleased。 'He gave us Strephon
last night to that degree that Plornish gets up and makes him this
speech across the table。 〃John Edward Nandy；〃 says Plornish to father；
〃I never heard you e the warbles as I have heard you e the warbles
this night。〃 An't it gratifying； Mr Pancks； though； really？'
Mr Pancks； who had snorted at the old man in his friendliest manner；
replied in the affirmative； and casually asked whether that lively Altro
chap had e in yet？ Mrs Plornish answered no； not yet； though he had
gone to the West…End with some work； and had said he should be back
by tea…time。 Mr Pancks was then hospitably pressed into Happy Cottage；
where he encountered the elder Master Plornish just e home from
school。 Examining that young student； lightly； on the educational
proceedings of the day； he found that the more advanced pupils who
were in the large text and the letter M； had been set the copy 'Merdle；
Millions。'
'And how are you getting on； Mrs Plornish；' said Pancks； 'since we're
mentioning millions？'
'Very steady； indeed； sir；' returned Mrs Plornish。 'Father； dear； would
you go into the shop and tidy the window a little bit before tea； your
taste being so beautiful？'
John Edward Nandy trotted away； much gratified； to ply with his
daughter's request。 Mrs Plornish； who was always in mortal terror
of mentioning pecuniary affairs before the old gentleman； lest any
disclosure she made might rouse his spirit and induce him to run away to
the workhouse； was thus left free to be