Page:The Posthumous Papers of the Pickwick Club.djvu/244

186 186 rOSTHUMOUS PAPERS OF

•' Dodson and Fogg," he repeated mechanically.

" Bardell and Pickwick," said Mr. Snodgrass, musing.

" Peace of mind and happiness of confiding females," murmured Mr. Winkle, with an air of abstraction.

" It's a conspiracy," said Mr. Pickwick, at length recovering the power of speech ; — " a base conspiracy between these two grasping attorneys, Dodson and Fogg. Mrs. Bardell would never do it ;— she hasn't the heart to do it ; — she hasn't the case to do it. Ridiculous — ridiculous."

'' Of her heart," said Wardle, with a smile, " you should certainly be the best judge. I don't wish to discourage you, but I should certainly say that, of her case, Dodson and Fogg are far better judges than any of us, can be."

" It's a vile attempt to extort money," said Mr. Pickwick.

" I hope it is," said Wardle, with a short, dry cough,

" Who ever heard me address her in any way but that in which a lodger would address his landlady ? " continued Mr. Pickwick, with great vehemence. " Who ever saw me with her ? Not even my friends here "

" Except on one occasion," said Mr. Tupman.

Mr. Pickwick changed colour.

" Ah," said Wardle. " Well, that's important. There was nothing suspicious then, I suppose?"

Mr. Tupman glanced timidly at his leader. " Why," he said, " there was nothing suspicious ; but — I don't know how it happened, mind — she certainly was reclining in his arms."

" Gracious powers ! " ejaculated Mr. Pickwick, as the recollection of the scene in question, struck forcibly upon him ; — " what a dreadful instance of the force of circumstances ! So she was — so she was."

" And our friend was soothing her anguish," said Mr. Winkle, rather maliciously.

" So I was,'* said Mr. Pickwick. " I won't deny it. So I was."

" Hallo ! " said Wardle ; " for a case in which there's nothing sus- picious, this looks rather queer — eh, Pickwick — eh ? Ah, sly dog — sly dog I " and he laughed till the glasses on the side-board, rang again.

" What a dreadful conjunction of appearances ! " exclaimed Mr. Pick- wick, resting his chin upon his hands, " Winkle — Tupman — I beg your pardon for the observations I made just now. We are all the victims of circumstances, and I the greatest.'.' With this apology, Mr. Pickwick buried his head in his hands, and ruminated ; while Wardle measured out a regular circle of nods and winks, addressed to the other members of the company.

" I'll have it explained, though," said Mr. Pickwick, raising his head, and hammering the table. " I'll see this Dodson and Fogg. I'll go to London to-morrow,"

" Not to-morrow," said Wardle ; " you're too lame."

" Well then, next day."

" Next day is the first of September, and you're pledged to ride out