Page:The Posthumous Papers of the Pickwick Club.djvu/312

246 246 POSTHUMOUS PAPERS OF

" I do, Sir," replied Mr. Pickwick ; " I object to saying anything- which may compromise that lady, or awaken unpleasant recollections in her breast, without her consent and permission,"

" Miss Witherfield," said Mr. Peter Magnus, " do you know this person ? "

" Know him I" repeated the middle-aged lady, hesitating.

with ferocity.
 * ' Yes, know him, Ma'am, I said know him," replied Mr. Magnus,

" I have seen him," replied the middle-aged lady.

" Where?" inquired Mr. Magnus, " where?"

" That," said the middle-aged lady, rising from her seat, and averting her head, '* that I would not reveal for worlds."

" I understand you, Ma'am," said Mr. Pickwick, " and respect your delicacy ; it shall never be revealed by me, depend upon it."

" Upon my word. Ma'am," said Mr. Magnus, " considering the situation in which I am placed with regard to yourself, you carry this matter off with tolerable coolness — tolerable coolness, Ma'am."

" Cruel Mr. Magnus," said the middle-aged lady ; and here she wept very copiously indeed.

" Address your observations to me, Sir," interposed Mr. Pickwick ; " I alone ara to blame, if anybody be."

" Oh ! you alone are to blame, are you. Sir ? " said Mr. Magnus ; do you ? "
 * « I — I — see through this, Sir. You repent of your determination now,

" My determination !" said Mr. Pickwick.

" Your determination. Sir. Oh ! don't stare at me, Sir," said Mr. Magnus ; " I recollect your words last night. Sir. You came down here, Sir, to expose the treachery and falsehood of an individual on whose truth and honour you had placed implicit reliance — eh ? " Here Mr. Peter Magnus indulged in a prolonged sneer ; and taking off his green spectacles — which he probably found superfluous in his fit of jealousy — rolled his little eyes about, in a manner which was frightful to behold.

" Eh?" said Mr. Magnus ; and then he repeated the sneer with in- creased effect. " But you shall answer it, Sir."

"Answer what ?" said Mr. Pickwick.

" Never mind, Sir," replied Mr. Magnus, striding up and down the room — " Never mind."

There must be something very comprehensive in this phrase of "Never mind," for we do not recollect to have ever witnessed a quarrel in the street, at a theatre, public room, or elsewhere, in which it has not been the standard reply to all belligerent inquiries. " Do you call your- self a gentleman. Sir?" — "Never mind, Sir." "Did 1 offer to say anything to the young woman, Sir?" — " Never mind, Sir." " Do you want your head knocked up against that wall, Sir ?" — " Never mind. Sir." It is observable, too, that there would appear to be some hidden taunt in this universal " Never mind," which rouses more indignation in the bosom of the individual addressed, than the most lavish abuse could possibly awaken.