AN IMPORTANT CONFERENCE TAKES PLACEBETWEEN Mr. PICKWICK AND SAMUELWELLER, AT WHICH HIS PARENT ASSISTS―AN OLD GENTLEMAN IN A SNUFF-COLOUREDSUIT ARRIVES UNEXPECTEDLYr. Pickwick was sitting alone, musing over manythings, and thinking among other considerationshow he could best provide for the young couplewhose present unsettled condition was matter of constant regretand anxiety to him, when Mary stepped lightly into the room, and,advancing to the table, said, rather hastily―‘Oh, if you please, sir, Samuel is downstairs, and he says mayhis father see you?’

　　‘Surely,’ replied Mr. Pickwick.

　　‘Thank you, sir,’ said Mary, tripping towards the door again.

　　‘Sam has not been here long, has he?’ inquired Mr. Pickwick.

　　‘Oh, no, sir,’ replied Mary eagerly. ‘He has only just come home.

　　He is not going to ask you for any more leave, sir, he says.’

　　Mary might have been conscious that she had communicatedthis last intelligence with more warmth than seemed actuallynecessary, or she might have observed the good-humoured smilewith which Mr. Pickwick regarded her, when she had finishedspeaking. She certainly held down her head, and examined thecorner of a very smart little apron, with more closeness than thereappeared any absolute occasion for.

　　‘Tell them they can come up at once, by all means,’ said Mr.

　　Pickwick.

　　Mary, apparently much relieved, hurried away with hermessage.

　　Mr. Pickwick took two or three turns up and down the room;and, rubbing his chin with his left hand as he did so, appeared lostin thought.

　　‘Well, well,’ said Mr. Pickwick, at length in a kind but somewhatmelancholy tone, ‘it is the best way in which I could reward himfor his attachment and fidelity; let it be so, in Heaven’s name. It isthe fate of a lonely old man, that those about him should form newand different attachments and leave him. I have no right to expectthat it should be otherwise with me. No, no,’ added Mr. Pickwickmore cheerfully, ‘it would be selfish and ungrateful. I ought to behappy to have an opportunity of providing for him so well. I am. Ofcourse I am.’

　　Mr. Pickwick had been so absorbed in these reflections, that aknock at the door was three or four times repeated before heheard it. Hastily seating himself, and calling up his accustomedpleasant looks, he gave the required permission, and Sam Wellerentered, followed by his father.

　　‘Glad to see you back again, Sam,’ said Mr. Pickwick. ‘How doyou do, Mr. Weller?’

　　‘Wery hearty, thank’ee, sir,’ replied the widower; ‘hope I see youwell, sir.’

　　‘Quite, I thank you,’ replied Mr. Pickwick.

　　‘I wanted to have a little bit o’ conwersation with you, sir,’ saidMr. Weller, ‘if you could spare me five minits or so, sir.’

　　‘Certainly,’ replied Mr. Pickwick. ‘Sam, give your father achair.’

　　‘Thank’ee, Samivel, I’ve got a cheer here,’ said Mr. Weller,bringing one forward as he spoke; ‘uncommon fine day it’s been,sir,’ added the old gentleman, laying his hat on the floor as he sathimself down.

　　‘Remarkably so, indeed,’ replied Mr. Pickwick. ‘Veryseasonable.’

　　‘Seasonablest veather I ever see, sir,’ rejoined Mr. Weller. Here,the old gentleman was seized with a violent fit of coughing, which,being terminated, he nodded his head and winked and madeseveral supplicatory and threatening gestures to his son, all ofwhich Sam Weller steadily abstained from seeing.

　　Mr. Pickwick, perceiving that there was some embarrassmenton the old gentleman’s part, affected to be engaged in cutting theleaves of a book that lay beside him, and waited patiently until Mr.

　　Weller should arrive at the object of his visit.

　　‘I never see sich a aggrawatin’ boy as you are, Samivel,’ said Mr.

　　Weller, looking indignantly at his son; ‘never in all my born days.’

　　‘What is he doing, Mr. Weller?’ inquired Mr. Pickwick.

　　‘He von’t begin, sir,’ rejoined Mr. Weller; ‘he knows I ain’t ekalto ex-pressin’ myself ven there’s anythin’ partickler to be done,and yet he’ll stand and see me a-settin’ here taking up yourwalable time, and makin’ a reg’lar spectacle o’ myself, raytherthan help me out vith a syllable. It ain’t filial conduct, Samivel,’

　　said Mr. Weller, wiping his forehead; ‘wery far from it.’

　　‘You said you’d speak,’ replied Sam; ‘how should I know youwos done up at the wery beginnin’?’

　　‘You might ha’ seen I warn’t able to start,’ rejoined his father; ‘I’m on the wrong side of the road, and backin’ into the palin’s, andall manner of unpleasantness, and yet you von’t put out a hand tohelp me. I’m ashamed on you, Samivel.’

　　‘The fact is, sir,’ said Sam, with a slight bow, ‘the gov’nor’s beena-drawin’ his money.’

　　‘Wery good, Samivel, wery good,’ said Mr. Weller, nodding hishead with a satisfied air, ‘I didn’t mean to speak harsh to you,Sammy. Wery good. That’s the vay to begin. Come to the pint atonce. Wery good indeed, Samivel.’

　　Mr. Weller nodded his head an extraordinary number of times,in the excess of his gratification, and waited in a listening attitudefor Sam to resume his statement.

　　‘You may sit down, Sam,’ said Mr. Pickwick, apprehending thatthe inter view was likely to prove rather longer than he hadexpected.

　　Sam bowed again and sat down; his father looking round, hecontinued―‘The gov’nor, sir, has drawn out five hundred and thirty pound.’

　　‘Reduced counsels,’ interposed Mr. Weller, senior, in anundertone.

　　‘It don’t much matter vether it’s reduced counsels, or wot not,’

　　said Sam; ‘five hundred and thirty pounds is the sum, ain’t it?’

　　‘All right, Samivel,’ replied Mr. Weller.

　　‘To vich sum, he has added for the house and bisness―’

　　‘Lease, good-vill, stock, and fixters,’ interposed Mr. Weller.

　　‘As much as makes it,’ continued Sam, ‘altogether, elevenhundred and eighty pound.’

　　‘Indeed!’ said Mr. Pickwick. ‘I am delighted to hear it. Icongratulate you, Mr. Weller, on having done so well.’

　　‘Vait a minit, sir,’ said Mr. Weller, raising his hand in adeprecatory manner. ‘Get on, Samivel.’

　　‘This here money,’ said Sam, with a little hesitation, ‘he’sanxious to put someveres, vere he knows it’ll be safe, and I’m weryanxious too, for if he keeps it, he’ll go a-lendin’ it to somebody, orinwestin’ property in horses, or droppin’ his pocket-book down anairy, or makin’ a Egyptian mummy of his-self in some vay oranother.’

　　‘Wery good, Samivel,’ observed Mr. Weller, in as complacent amanner as if Sam had been passing the highest eulogiums on hisprudence and foresight. ‘Wery good.’

　　‘For vich reasons,’ continued Sam, plucking nervously at thebrim of his hat―‘for vich reasons, he’s drawn it out to-day, andcome here vith me to say, leastvays to offer, or in other vords―’

　　‘To say this here,’ said the elder Mr. Weller impatiently, ‘that itain’t o’ no use to me. I’m a-goin’ to vork a coach reg’lar, and ha’n’tgot noveres to keep it in, unless I vos to pay the guard for takin’

　　care on it, or to put it in vun o’ the coach pockets, vich ‘ud be atemptation to the insides. If you’ll take care on it for me, sir, I shallbe wery much obliged to you. P’raps,’ said Mr. Weller, walking upto Mr. Pickwick and whispering in his ear―‘p’raps it’ll go a littlevay towards the expenses o’ that ’ere conwiction. All I say is, justyou keep it till I ask you for it again.’ With these words, Mr. Wellerplaced the pocket-book in Mr. Pickwick’s hands, caught up his hat,and ran out of the room with a celerity scarcely to be expectedfrom so corpulent a subject.

　　‘Stop him, Sam!’ exclaimed Mr. Pickwick earnestly. ‘Overtakehim; bring him back instantly! Mr. Weller―here―come back!’

　　Sam saw that his master’s injunctions were not to be disobeyed;and, catching his father by the arm as he was descending thestairs, dragged him back by main force.

　　‘My good friend,’ said Mr. Pickwick, taking the old man by thehand, ‘your honest confidence overpowers me.’

　　‘I don’t see no occasion for nothin’ o’ the kind, sir,’ replied Mr.

　　Weller obstinately.

　　‘I assure you, my good friend, I have more money than I canever need; far more than a man at my age can ever live to spend,’

　　said Mr. Pickwick.

　　‘No man knows how much he can spend, till he tries,’ observedMr. Weller.

　　‘Perhaps not,’ replied Mr. Pickwick; ‘but as I have no intentionof trying any such experiments, I am not likely to come to want. Imust beg you to take this back, Mr. Weller.’

　　‘Wery well,’ said Mr. Weller, with a discontented look. ‘Mark myvords, Sammy, I’ll do somethin’ desperate vith this here property;somethin’ desperate!’

　　‘You’d better not,’ replied Sam.

　　Mr. Weller reflected for a short time, and then, buttoning up hiscoat with great determination, said―‘I’ll keep a pike.’

　　‘Wot!’ exclaimed Sam.

　　‘A pike!’ rejoined Mr. Weller, through his set teeth; ‘I’ll keep apike. Say good-bye to your father, Samivel. I dewote theremainder of my days to a pike.’

　　This threat was such an awful one, and Mr. Weller, besidesappearing fully resolved to carry it into execution, seemed sodeeply mortified by Mr. Pickwick’s refusal, that that gentleman,after a short reflection, said―‘Well, well, Mr. Weller, I will keep your money. I can do moregood with it, perhaps, than you can.’

　　‘Just the wery thing, to be sure,’ said Mr. Weller, brighteningup; ‘o’ course you can, sir.’

　　‘Say no more about it,’ said Mr. Pickwick, locking the pocket-book in his desk; ‘I am heartily obliged to you, my good friend.

　　Now sit down again. I want to ask your advice.’

　　The internal laughter occasioned by the triumphant success ofhis visit, which had convulsed not only Mr. Weller’s face, but hisarms, legs, and body also, during the locking up of the pocket-book, suddenly gave place to the most dignified gravity as heheard these words.

　　‘Wait outside a few minutes, Sam, will you?’ said Mr. Pickwick.

　　Sam immediately withdrew.

　　Mr. Weller looked uncommonly wise and very much amazed,when Mr. Pickwick opened the discourse by saying―‘You are not an advocate for matrimony, I think, Mr. Weller?’

　　Mr. Weller shook his head. He was wholly unable to speak;vague thoughts of some wicked widow having been successful inher designs on Mr. Pickwick, choked his utterance.

　　‘Did you happen to see a young girl downstairs when you camein just now with your son?’ inquired Mr. Pickwick.

　　‘Yes. I see a young gal,’ replied Mr. Weller shortly.

　　‘What did you think of her, now? Candidly, Mr. Weller, whatdid you think of her?’

　　‘I thought she wos wery plump, and vell made,’ said Mr. Weller,with a critical air.

　　‘So she is,’ said Mr. Pickwick, ‘so she is. What did you think ofher manners, from what you saw of her?’

　　‘Wery pleasant,’ rejoined Mr. Weller. ‘Wery pleasant andcomformable.’

　　The precise meaning which Mr. Weller attached to this last-mentioned adjective, did not appear; but, as it was evident fromthe tone in which he used it that it was a favourable expression,Mr. Pickwick was as well satisfied as if he had been thoroughlyenlightened on the subject.

　　‘I take a great interest in her, Mr. Weller,’ said Mr. Pickwick.

　　Mr. Weller coughed.

　　‘I mean an interest in her doing well,’ resumed Mr. Pickwick; ‘adesire that she may be comfortable and prosperous. Youunderstand?’

　　‘Wery clearly,’ replied Mr. Weller, who understood nothing yet.

　　‘That young person,’ said Mr. Pickwick, ‘is attached to yourson.’

　　‘To Samivel Veller!’ exclaimed the parent.

　　‘Yes,’ said Mr. Pickwick.

　　‘It’s nat’ral,’ said Mr. Weller, after some consideration, ‘nat’ral,but rayther alarmin’. Sammy must be careful.’

　　‘How do you mean?’ inquired Mr. Pickwick.

　　‘Wery careful that he don’t say nothin’ to her,’ responded Mr.

　　Weller. ‘Wery careful that he ain’t led avay, in a innocent moment,to say anythin’ as may lead to a conwiction for breach. You’renever safe vith ’em, Mr. Pickwick, ven they vunce has designs onyou; there’s no knowin’ vere to have ‘em; and vile you’re a-considering of it, they have you. I wos married fust, that vaymyself, sir, and Sammy wos the consekens o’ the manoover.’

　　‘You give me no great encouragement to conclude what I haveto say,’ observed Mr. Pickwick, ‘but I had better do so at once.

　　This young person is not only attached to your son, Mr. Weller, butyour son is attached to her.’

　　‘Vell,’ said Mr. Weller, ‘this here’s a pretty sort o’ thing to cometo a father’s ears, this is!’

　　‘I have observed them on several occasions,’ said Mr. Pickwick,making no comment on Mr. Weller’s last remark; ‘and entertain nodoubt at all about it. Supposing I were desirous of establishingthem comfortably as man and wife in some little business orsituation, where they might hope to obtain a decent living, whatshould you think of it, Mr. Weller?’

　　At first, Mr. Weller received with wry faces a propositioninvolving the marriage of anybody in whom he took an interest;but, as Mr. Pickwick argued the point with him, and la............