THE STORY OF LONDON: Charles Dickens' Perspective in 11 Novels & 80+ Short Stories (Illustrated Edition). Charles Dickens. Читать онлайн. Newlib. NEWLIB.NET

Автор: Charles Dickens
Издательство: Bookwire
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Жанр произведения: Языкознание
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isbn: 9788027225132
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Poor fellow; he was very susceptible to fatigue; he used to feel those appeals uncommonly. I actually thought more than once that he’d have sunk under ‘em; I did, indeed.’

      Here Mr. Pell shook his head and paused; on which, the elder Mr. Weller, nudging his neighbour, as begging him to mark the attorney’s high connections, asked whether the duties in question produced any permanent ill effects on the constitution of his noble friend.

      ‘I don’t think he ever quite recovered them,’ replied Pell; ‘in fact I’m sure he never did. “Pell,” he used to say to me many a time, “how the blazes you can stand the head-work you do, is a mystery to me.” — “Well,” I used to answer, “I hardly know how I do it, upon my life.” — “Pell,” he’d add, sighing, and looking at me with a little envy — friendly envy, you know, gentlemen, mere friendly envy; I never minded it — “Pell, you’re a wonder; a wonder.” Ah! you’d have liked him very much if you had known him, gentlemen. Bring me threepenn’orth of rum, my dear.’

      Addressing this latter remark to the waitress, in a tone of subdued grief, Mr. Pell sighed, looked at his shoes and the ceiling; and, the rum having by that time arrived, drank it up.

      ‘However,’ said Pell, drawing a chair to the table, ‘a professional man has no right to think of his private friendships when his legal assistance is wanted. By the bye, gentlemen, since I saw you here before, we have had to weep over a very melancholy occurrence.’

      Mr. Pell drew out a pockethandkerchief, when he came to the word weep, but he made no further use of it than to wipe away a slight tinge of rum which hung upon his upper lip.

      ‘I saw it in the ADVERTISER, Mr. Weller,’ continued Pell. ‘Bless my soul, not more than fifty-two! Dear me — only think.’

      These indications of a musing spirit were addressed to the mottled-faced man, whose eyes Mr. Pell had accidentally caught; on which, the mottled-faced man, whose apprehension of matters in general was of a foggy nature, moved uneasily in his seat, and opined that, indeed, so far as that went, there was no saying how things was brought about; which observation, involving one of those subtle propositions which it is difficult to encounter in argument, was controverted by nobody.

      ‘I have heard it remarked that she was a very fine woman, Mr. Weller,’ said Pell, in a sympathising manner.

      ‘Yes, sir, she wos,’ replied the elder Mr. Weller, not much relishing this mode of discussing the subject, and yet thinking that the attorney, from his long intimacy with the late Lord Chancellor, must know best on all matters of polite breeding. ‘She wos a wery fine ‘ooman, sir, ven I first know’d her. She wos a widder, sir, at that time.’

      ‘Now, it’s curious,’ said Pell, looking round with a sorrowful smile; ‘Mrs. Pell was a widow.’

      ‘That’s very extraordinary,’ said the mottled-faced man.

      ‘Well, it is a curious coincidence,’ said Pell.

      ‘Not at all,’ gruffly remarked the elder Mr. Weller. ‘More widders is married than single wimin.’

      ‘Very good, very good,’ said Pell, ‘you’re quite right, Mr. Weller. Mrs. Pell was a very elegant and accomplished woman; her manners were the theme of universal admiration in our neighbourhood. I was proud to see that woman dance; there was something so firm and dignified, and yet natural, in her motion. Her cutting, gentlemen, was simplicity itself. Ah! well, well! Excuse my asking the question, Mr. Samuel,’ continued the attorney in a lower voice, ‘was your motherin-law tall?’

      ‘Not wery,’ replied Sam.

      ‘Mrs. Pell was a tall figure,’ said Pell, ‘a splendid woman, with a noble shape, and a nose, gentlemen, formed to command and be majestic. She was very much attached to me — very much — highly connected, too. Her mother’s brother, gentlemen, failed for eight hundred pounds, as a law stationer.’

      ‘Vell,’ said Mr. Weller, who had grown rather restless during this discussion, ‘vith regard to bis’ness.’

      The word was music to Pell’s ears. He had been revolving in his mind whether any business was to be transacted, or whether he had been merely invited to partake of a glass of brandy-and-water, or a bowl of punch, or any similar professional compliment, and now the doubt was set at rest without his appearing at all eager for its solution. His eyes glistened as he laid his hat on the table, and said —

      ‘What is the business upon which — um? Either of these gentlemen wish to go through the court? We require an arrest; a friendly arrest will do, you know; we are all friends here, I suppose?’

      ‘Give me the dockyment, Sammy,’ said Mr. Weller, taking the will from his son, who appeared to enjoy the interview amazingly. ‘Wot we rekvire, sir, is a probe o’ this here.’

      ‘Probate, my dear Sir, probate,’ said Pell.

      ‘Well, sir,’ replied Mr. Weller sharply, ‘probe and probe it, is wery much the same; if you don’t understand wot I mean, sir, I des-say I can find them as does.’

      ‘No offence, I hope, Mr. Weller,’ said Pell meekly. ‘You are the executor, I see,’ he added, casting his eyes over the paper.

      ‘I am, sir,’ replied Mr. Weller.

      ‘These other gentlemen, I presume, are legatees, are they?’ inquired Pell, with a congratulatory smile.

      ‘Sammy is a leg-at-ease,’ replied Mr. Weller; ‘these other gen’l’m’n is friends o’ mine, just come to see fair; a kind of umpires.’

      ‘Oh!’ said Pell, ‘very good. I have no objections, I’m sure. I shall want a matter of five pound of you before I begin, ha! ha! ha!’

      It being decided by the committee that the five pound might be advanced, Mr. Weller produced that sum; after which, a long consultation about nothing particular took place, in the course whereof Mr. Pell demonstrated to the perfect satisfaction of the gentlemen who saw fair, that unless the management of the business had been intrusted to him, it must all have gone wrong, for reasons not clearly made out, but no doubt sufficient. This important point being despatched, Mr. Pell refreshed himself with three chops, and liquids both malt and spirituous, at the expense of the estate; and then they all went away to Doctors’ Commons.

      The next day there was another visit to Doctors’ Commons, and a great to-do with an attesting hostler, who, being inebriated, declined swearing anything but profane oaths, to the great scandal of a proctor and surrogate. Next week, there were more visits to Doctors’ Commons, and there was a visit to the Legacy Duty Office besides, and there were treaties entered into, for the disposal of the lease and business, and ratifications of the same, and inventories to be made out, and lunches to be taken, and dinners to be eaten, and so many profitable things to be done, and such a mass of papers accumulated that Mr. Solomon Pell, and the boy, and the blue bag to boot, all got so stout that scarcely anybody would have known them for the same man, boy, and bag, that had loitered about Portugal Street, a few days before.

      At length all these weighty matters being arranged, a day was fixed for selling out and transferring the stock, and of waiting with that view upon Wilkins Flasher, Esquire, stockbroker, of somewhere near the bank, who had been recommended by Mr. Solomon Pell for the purpose.

      It was a kind of festive occasion, and the parties were attired accordingly. Mr. Weller’s tops were newly cleaned, and his dress was arranged with peculiar care; the mottled-faced gentleman wore at his buttonhole a full-sized dahlia with several leaves; and the coats of his two friends were adorned with nosegays of laurel and other evergreens. All three were habited in strict holiday costume; that is to say, they were wrapped up to the chins, and wore as many clothes as possible, which is, and has been, a stage-coachman’s idea of full dress ever since stagecoaches were invented.

      Mr. Pell was waiting at the usual place of meeting at the appointed time; even he wore a pair of gloves and a clean shirt, much frayed at the collar and wristbands by frequent washings.

      ‘A quarter to two,’ said