As to Mrs Todgers, she leaned on Mr Pecksniff's arm and preserved a kind of genteel grimness, suitable to any state of mind, and involving any shade of opinion.
'Don't be alarmed, Miss Pinch,' said Mr Pecksniff, taking her hand condescendingly in one of his, and patting it with the other.

'I have called to see you, in pursuance of a promise given to your brother, Thomas Pinch.

My name--compose yourself, Miss Pinch--is Pecksniff.' The good man emphasised these words as though he would have said, 'You see in me, young person, the benefactor of your race; the patron of your house; the preserver of your brother, who is fed with manna daily from my table; and in right of whom there is a considerable balance in my favour at present standing in the books beyond the sky.

But I have no pride, for I can afford to do without it!' The poor girl felt it all as if it had been Gospel truth.

Her brother writing in the fullness of his simple heart, had often told her so, and how much more! As Mr Pecksniff ceased to speak, she hung her head, and dropped a tear upon his hand.
'Oh very well, Miss Pinch!' thought the sharp pupil, 'crying before strangers, as if you didn't like the situation!' 'Thomas is well,' said Mr Pecksniff; 'and sends his love and this letter.