At this consolatory reflection, Mrs. Cluppins bridled up, and smiled at Mrs. Sanders, who smiled back again.
“The action’s going on, and no mistake,” thought Sam, as Mrs. Bardell re-entered with the receipt.
“Here’s the receipt, Mr. Weller,” said Mrs. Bardell, “and here’s the change, and I hope you’ll take a little drop of something to keep the cold out, if it’s only for old acquaintance’ sake, Mr. Weller.”
Sam saw the advantage he should gain, and at once acquiesced; whereupon Mrs. Bardell produced, from a small closet, a black bottle and a wineglass; and so great was her abstraction, in her deep mental affliction, that, after filling Mr. Weller’s glass, she brought out three more wineglasses, and filled them too.
“Lauk, Mrs. Bardell,” said Mrs. Cluppins, “see what you’ve been and done!”
“Well, that is a good one!” ejaculated Mrs. Sanders.
“Ah, my poor head!” said Mrs. Bardell, with a faint smile.
Sam understood all this, of course, so he said at once, that he never could drink before supper, unless a lady drank with him. A great deal of laughing ensued, and Mrs. Sanders volunteered to humour him, so she took a slight sip out of her glass. Then, Sam said it must go all round, so they all took a slight sip. Then, little Mrs. Cluppins proposed a toast, “Success to Bardell agin Pickwick”; and then the ladies emptied their glasses in honour of the sentiment and got very talkative directly.
“I suppose you’ve heard what’s going forward, Mr. Weller?” said Mrs. Bardell.
“I’ve heerd somethin’ on it,” replied Sam.