Page:The Posthumous Papers of the Pickwick Club.djvu/669

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POSTHUMOUS PAPERS OF THE PICKWICK CLUB
563

THE PICKWICK CLUB. 563

CHAPTER LII.

COMPRISING THE FINAL EXIT OF MR. JINGLE AND JOB TROTTER ; WITH A GREAT MORNING OF BUSINESS IN GRAY's INN SQUARE. CONCLUDING WITH A DOUBLE KNOCK AT MR. PERKEr's DOOR.

When Arabella, after some gentle preparation, and many assurances that there was not the least occasion for being low-spirited, was at length made acquainted by Mr. Pickwick with the unsatisfactory result of his visit to Birmingham, she burst into tears, and sobbing aloud, lamented in moving terms that she should have been the unhappy cause of any estrangement between a father and his son.

  • 'My dear girl," said Mr. Pickwick, kindly, " it is no fault of yours.

It was impossible to foresee that the old gentleman would be so strongly prepossessed against his son's marriage, you know. I am sure," added Mr. Pickwick, glancing at her pretty face, " he can have very little idea of the pleasure he denies himself."

    • Oh my dear Mr. Pickwick," said Arabella, what shall we do, if

he continues to be angry with us ? "

  • 'Why, wait patiently, my dear, until he thinks better of it,'* replied

Mr. Pickwick, cheerfully.

  • ' But dear Mr. Pickwick, what is to become of Nathaniel if his

father withdraws his assistance ?" urged Arabella.

In that case, my love," rejoined Mr. Pickwick, "I will venture to prophecy that he will find some other friend who will not be backward in helping him to start in the world."

The significance of this reply was not so well disguised by Mr. Pickwick but that Arabella understood it. So throwing her arms round his neck, and kissing him affectionately, she sobbed louder than before.

'* Come, come," said Mr. Pickwick, taking her hand, " we will wait here a few days longer, and see whether he writes or takes any other notice of your husband's communication. If not, I have thought of half a dozen plans, any one of which would make you happy at once. There, my dear — there.'*

With these words, Mr. Pickwick gently pressed Arabella's hand, and bade her dry her eyes, and not distress her husband. Upon which. Arabella, who was one of the best little creatures alive, put her hand- kerchief in her reticule, and by the time Mr. Winkle joined them, exhibited in full lustre the same beaming smiles and sparkling eyes that had originally captivated him.

"This is a distressing predicament for these young people," thought Mr. Pickwick, as he dressed himself next morning. *' 1 11 walk up to Perker's, and consult him about the matter.'*

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