‘Oh bless you, no!’ said Mrs Gamp. ‘He hates his nusses to this hour. They always does it, sir. It’s a certain sign. If you could have heerd the poor dear soul a-findin fault with me and Betsey Prig, not half an hour ago, you would have wondered how it is we don’t get fretted to the tomb.’
This almost confirmed John in his suspicion; so, not taking what had passed into any serious account, he resumed his former cheerful manner, and assisted by Mrs Gamp and Betsey Prig, conducted Lewsome downstairs to the coach; just then upon the point of starting. Poll Sweedlepipe was at the door with his arms tight folded and his eyes wide open, and looked on with absorbing interest, while the sick man was slowly moved into the vehicle. His bony hands and haggard face impressed Poll wonderfully; and he informed Mr Bailey in confidence, that he wouldn’t have missed seeing him for a pound. Mr Bailey, who was of a different constitution, remarked that he would have stayed away for five shillings.
It was a troublesome matter to adjust Mrs Gamp’s luggage to her satisfaction; for every package belonging to that lady had the inconvenient property of requiring to be put in a boot by itself, and to have no other luggage near it, on pain of actions at law for heavy damages against the proprietors of the coach. The umbrella with the circular patch was particularly hard to be got rid of, and several times thrust out its battered brass nozzle from improper crevices and chinks, to the great terror of the other passengers. Indeed, in her intense anxiety to find a haven of refuge for this chattel, Mrs Gamp so often moved it, in the course of five minutes, that it seemed not one umbrella but fifty. At length it was lost, or said to be; and for the next five minutes she was face to face with the coachman, go wherever he might, protesting that it should be ‘made good,’ though she took the question to the House of Commons.
At last, her bundle, and her pattens, and her basket, and everything else, being disposed of, she took a friendly leave of Poll and Mr Bailey, dropped a curtsey to John Westlock, and parted as from a cherished member of the sisterhood with Betsey Prig.
‘Wishin you lots of sickness, my darlin creetur,’ Mrs Gamp observed, ‘and good places. It won’t be long, I hope, afore we works together, off and on, again, Betsey; and may our next meetin’ be at a large family’s, where they all takes it reg’lar, one from another, turn and turn about, and has it business-like.’
‘I don’t care how soon it is,’ said Mrs Prig; ‘nor how many weeks it lasts.’
Mrs Gamp with a reply in a congenial spirit was backing to the coach, when she came in contact with a lady and gentleman who were passing along the footway.
‘Take care, take care here!’ cried the gentleman. ‘Halloo! My dear! Why, it’s Mrs Gamp!’
‘What, Mr Mould!’ exclaimed the nurse. ‘And Mrs Mould! who would have thought as we should ever have a meetin’ here, I’m sure!’
‘Going out of town, Mrs Gamp?’ cried Mould. ‘That’s unusual, isn’t it?’