“Have a cup of tea, there’s a good soul,” replied the buxom female, coaxingly.
“I von’t,” replied Mr. Weller, in a somewhat boisterous manner, “I’ll see you”—Mr. Weller hastily checked himself, and added in a low tone, “furder fust.”
“Oh, dear, dear! How adversity does change people!” said the lady, looking upwards.
“It’s the only think ’twixt this and the doctor as shall change my condition,” muttered Mr. Weller.
“I really never saw a man so cross,” said the buxom female.
“Never mind. It’s all for my own good; vich is the reflection vith wich the penitent schoolboy comforted his feelin’s ven they flogged him,” rejoined the old gentleman.
The buxom female shook her head with a compassionate and sympathising air; and, appealing to Sam, inquired whether his father really ought not to make an effort to keep up, and not give way to that lowness of spirits.
“You see, Mr. Samuel,” said the buxom female, “as I was telling him yesterday, he will feel lonely, he can’t expect but what he should, sir, but he should keep up a good heart, because, dear me, I’m sure we all pity his loss, and are ready to do anything for him; and there’s no situation in life so bad, Mr. Samuel, that it can’t be mended. Which is what a very worthy person said to me when my husband died.” Here the speaker, putting her hand before her mouth, coughed again, and looked affectionately at the elder Mr. Weller.
“As I don’t rekvire any o’ your conversation just now, mum, vill you have the goodness to re-tire?” inquired Mr. Weller in grave and steady voice.