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 lost in thought.

'Well, well,' said Mr. Pickwick, at length in a kind but somewhat
melancholy tone, 'it is the best way in which I could reward him for his
attachment and fidelity; let it be so, in Heaven's name. It is the fate
of a lonely old man, that those about him should form new and different
attachments and leave him. I have no right to expect that it should
be otherwise with me. No, no,' added Mr. Pickwick more cheerfully,
'it would be selfish and ungrateful. I ought to be happy to have an
opportunity of providing for him so well. I am. Of course I am.'

Mr. Pickwick had been so absorbed in these reflections, that a knock at
the door was three or four times repeated before he heard it. Hastily
seating himself, and calling up his accustomed pleasant looks, he gave
the required permission, and Sam Weller entered, followed by his father.

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

'Wery hearty, thank'ee, sir,' replied the widower; 'hope I see you well,
sir.'

'Quite, I thank you,' replied Mr. Pickwick.

'I wanted to have a little bit o' conwersation with you, sir,' said Mr.
Weller, 'if you could spare me five minits or so, sir.'

'Certainly,' replied Mr. Pickwick. 'Sam, give your father a chair.'

'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 sat himself down.

'Remarkably so, indeed,' replied Mr. Pickwick. 'Very seasonable.'

'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 made several supplicatory
and threatening gestures to his son, all of which Sam Weller steadily
abstained from seeing.

Mr. Pickwick, perceiving that there was some embarrassment on the old
gentleman's part, affected to be engaged in cutting the leaves 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. We