Chapter 26 - Page 2

'Yes, sir,' said Mr. Weller, stepping quickly back, and closing
the door behind him.
'I have no objection, Sam, to your endeavouring to ascertain
how Mrs. Bardell herself seems disposed towards me, and
whether it is really probable that this vile and groundless action
is to be carried to extremity. I say I do not object to you doing
this, if you wish it, Sam,' said Mr. Pickwick.

Sam gave a short nod of intelligence, and left the room. Mr.
Pickwick drew the silk handkerchief once more over his head,
And composed himself for a nap. Mr. Weller promptly walked
forth, to execute his commission.

It was nearly nine o'clock when he reached Goswell Street. A
couple of candles were burning in the little front parlour, and a
couple of caps were reflected on the window-blind. Mrs. Bardell
had got company.

Mr. Weller knocked at the door, and after a pretty long
interval--occupied by the party without, in whistling a tune, and
by the party within, in persuading a refractory flat candle to
allow itself to be lighted--a pair of small boots pattered over the
floor-cloth, and Master Bardell presented himself.

'Well, young townskip,' said Sam, 'how's mother?'

'She's pretty well,' replied Master Bardell, 'so am I.'

'Well, that's a mercy,' said Sam; 'tell her I want to speak to
her, will you, my hinfant fernomenon?'

Master Bardell, thus adjured, placed the refractory flat candle on
the bottom stair, and vanished into the front parlour with his message.

The two caps, reflected on the window-blind, were the respective
head-dresses of a couple of Mrs. Bardell's most particular
acquaintance, who had just stepped in, to have a quiet cup of tea,
and a little warm supper of a couple of sets of pettitoes and some
toasted cheese. The cheese was simmering and browning away,
most delightfully, in a little Dutch oven before the fire; the
pettitoes were getting on deliciously in a little tin saucepan on the
hob; and Mrs. Bardell and her two friends were getting on very
well, also, in a little quiet conversation about and concerning all
their particular friends and acquaintance; when Master Bardell
came back from answering the door, and delivered the message
intrusted to him by Mr. Samuel Weller.

'Mr. Pickwick's servant!' said Mrs. Bardell, turning pale.

'Bless my soul!' said Mrs. Cluppins.

'Well, I raly would not ha' believed it, unless I had ha' happened
to ha' been here!' said Mrs. Sanders.

Mrs. Cluppins was a little, brisk, busy-looking woman; Mrs.
Sanders was a big, fat, heavy-faced personage; and the two were
the company.

Mrs. Bardell felt it proper to be agitated; and as none of the
three exactly knew whether under existing