ault, for he was somewhat selfish, but he
had, nevertheless, a great deal of good in him. And perhaps his
selfishness was partly his grandfather's fault, too, because the latter
had brought him up to believe he would inherit all his money and would
sometime be very rich.

At last, ill and grown suspicious of every one he met, old Chuzzlewit
gave a home to a beautiful orphan girl named Mary Graham, and kept her
near him as his nurse and secretary. In order that she might not have
any selfish interest in being kind to him, he took an oath in her
presence that he would not leave her a cent when he died. He paid her
monthly wages and it was agreed that there should be no affection shown
between them.

In spite of his seeming harshness, Mary knew his heart was naturally
kind, and she soon loved him as a father. And he, softened by her
sympathy, came in spite of himself to love her as a daughter.

It was not long before young Martin, too, had fallen very deeply in love
with Mary. He concluded too hastily, however, that his grandfather would
not approve of his marrying her, and told the old man his intentions in
such a fiery way that Chuzzlewit resented it.

The old man accused Martin of a selfish attempt to steal from him Mary's
care, and at this, Martin, whose temper was as quick as his
grandfather's flew to anger. They quarreled and Martin left him,
declaring he would henceforth make his own way until he was able to
claim Mary for his wife.

While he was wondering what he should do, Martin saw in a newspaper the
advertisement of a Mr. Pecksniff, an architect, living near Salisbury,
not many miles from London, who wished a pupil to board and teach. An
architect was what Martin wanted to be, and he answered the
advertisement at once and accepted Pecksniff's terms.

Now, to tell the truth, Martin had another reason for this. Pecksniff
was his grandfather's cousin, and he knew the old man thought him the
worst hypocrite of all his relatives, and disliked him accordingly. And
Martin was so angry with his grandfather that he went to Pecksniff's
partly to vex him.

Pecksniff was just the man old Chuzzlewit thought him. He was a smooth,
sleek hypocrite, with an oily manner. He had heavy eyelids and a wide,
whiskerless throat, and when he talked he fairly oozed virtuous sayings,
for which people deemed him a most moral and upright man. He was a
widower with two daughters, Charity and Mercy, the older of whom had a
very bitt