Page:The Posthumous Papers of the Pickwick Club.djvu/169

117 THE PICKWICK CLUB. 1 17

" I 'm sure I ought to be a very happy woman," said Mrs. Bardeli,

" And your little boy — " said Mr. Pickwick.

" Bless his heart," interposed Mrs. Bardeli, with a maternal sob.

" He, too, will have a companion," resumed Mr. Pickwick, *'a lively one, who'll teach him, I'll be bound, more tricks in a week, than he would ever learn in a year." And Mr. Pickwick smiled placidly.

" Oh you dear — " said Mrs. Bardeli.

Mr. Pickwict started.

" Oh you kind, good, playful dear," said Mrs. Bardeli ; and without more ado, she rose from her chair, and flung her arms round Mr. Pick- wick's neck, with a cataract of tears, and a chorus of sobs.

my good woman — dear me, what a situation — pray consider. — Mrs. Bardeli, don't — if anybody should come — "
 * ' Bless my soul," cried the astonished Mr. Pickwick ; — " Mrs. Bardeli

" Oh, let them come," exclaimed Mrs. Bardeli, frantically ; *' I'll never leave you— rdear, kind, good, soul ;" and, with these words, Mrs. Bardeli clung the tighter.

" Mercy upon me,*' said Mr. Pickwick, struggling violently, " I hear somebody coming up the stairs. Don't,, don't, there's a good creature, don't." But entreaty and remonstrance were alike unavailing : for Mrs. Bardeli had fainted in Mr. Pickwick's arms ; and before he could gain time to deposit her on a chair. Master Bardeli entered the room, ushering in Mr. Tupman, Mr. Winkle, and Mr. Snodgrass.

Mr. Pickwick was struck motionless and speechless. He stood with his lovely burden in his arms, gazing vacantly on the countenances of his friends, without the slighest attempt at recognition or explanation. They, in their turn, stared at him ; and Master Bardeli, in his turn, stared at everybody.

The astonishment of the Pickwickians was so absorbing, and the per- plexity of Mr. Pickwick was so extreme, that they might have remained in exactly the same relative situations until the suspended animation of the lady was restored, had it not been for a most beautiful and touching expression of filial affection on the part of her youthful son. Clad in a tight suit of corderoy, spangled with brass buttons of a very considerable size, he at first stood at the door astounded and uncertain ; but by degrees, the impression that his mother must have suffered some per- sonal damage, pervaded his partially developed mind, and considering Mr. Pickwick as the aggressor, he set up an appalling and semi-earthly kind of howling, and butting forward with his head, commenced assailing that immortal gentleman about the back and legs, with such blows and pinches as the strength of his arm, and the violence of his excitement, allowed.

" Take this little villain away," said the agonised Mr. Pickwick, « he's mad."

" What is the matter ? " said the three tongue-tied Pickwickians.

" I don't know," replied Mr. Pickwick, pettishly. " Take away the boy — (here Mr. Winkle carried the interesting boy, screaming and struggling, to the further end of the apartment). — Now help me, lead this woman down stairs."

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