ny illness as is caused by too much jollity.' Having imparted
this valuable secret, Mr. Weller drained his glass once more, produced a
laboured wink, sighed deeply, and slowly retired.

'Well, what do you think of what your father says, Sam?' inquired Mr.
Pickwick, with a smile.

'Think, Sir!' replied Mr. Weller; 'why, I think he's the wictim o'
connubiality, as Blue Beard's domestic chaplain said, vith a tear of
pity, ven he buried him.'

There was no replying to this very apposite conclusion, and, therefore,
Mr. Pickwick, after settling the reckoning, resumed his walk to Gray's
Inn. By the time he reached its secluded groves, however, eight o'clock
had struck, and the unbroken stream of gentlemen in muddy high-lows,
soiled white hats, and rusty apparel, who were pouring towards the
different avenues of egress, warned him that the majority of the offices
had closed for that day.

After climbing two pairs of steep and dirty stairs, he found his
anticipations were realised. Mr. Perker's 'outer door' was closed; and
the dead silence which followed Mr. Weller's repeated kicks thereat,
announced that the officials had retired from business for the night.

'This is pleasant, Sam,' said Mr. Pickwick; 'I shouldn't lose an hour
in seeing him; I shall not be able to get one wink of sleep to-night, I
know, unless I have the satisfaction of reflecting that I have confided
this matter to a professional man.'

'Here's an old 'ooman comin' upstairs, sir,' replied Mr. Weller; 'p'raps
she knows where we can find somebody. Hollo, old lady, vere's Mr.
Perker's people?'

'Mr. Perker's people,' said a thin, miserable-looking old woman,
stopping to recover breath after the ascent of the staircase--'Mr.
Perker's people's gone, and I'm a-goin' to do the office out.' 'Are you
Mr. Perker's servant?' inquired Mr. Pickwick.

'I am Mr. Perker's laundress,' replied the woman.

'Ah,' said Mr. Pickwick, half aside to Sam, 'it's a curious
circumstance, Sam, that they call the old women in these inns,
laundresses. I wonder what's that for?'

''Cos they has a mortal awersion to washing anythin', I suppose, Sir,'
replied Mr. Weller.

'I shouldn't wonder,' said Mr. Pickwick, looking at the old woman, whose
appearance, as well as the condition of the office, which she had by
this time opened, indicated a rooted antipathy to the application
of soap and water; 'do you know where I can find Mr. Perker, my good
woman?'

'No, I don't,' replied t