CHAPTER XXVII.
Samuel Weller makes a pilgrimage to Dorking, and beholds his mother-in-law.
There still remaining an interval of two days, before the time agreed upon, for the departure of the Pickwickians to Dingley Dell, Mr. Weller sat himself down in a back room at the George and Vulture, after eating an early dinner, to muse on the best way of disposing his time. It was a remarkably fine day; and he had not turned the matter over in his mind ten minutes, when he was suddenly struck filial and affectionate; and it occurred to him so strongly that he ought to go down to see his father, and pay his duty to his mother-in-law, that he was lost in astonishment at his own remissness in never thinking of this moral obligation before. Anxious to atone for his past neglect without another hour's delay, he straightway walked up stairs to Mr. Pickwick, and requested leave of absence for this laudable purpose.
"Certainly, Sam, certainly," said Mr. Pickwick, his eyes glistening with delight at this manifestation of good feeling, on the part of his attendant; "certainly, Sam."
Mr. Weller made a grateful bow.
"I am very glad to see that you have so high a sense of your duties as a son, Sam," said Mr. Pickwick.
"I always had, Sir," replied Mr. Weller.
"That's a very gratifying reflection, Sam," said Mr. Pickwick, approvingly.
"Wery, Sir," replied Mr. Weller; "if ever I vanted anythin' o' my father, I always asked for it in a wery 'spectful and obligin' manner. If he didn't give it to me, I took it, for fear I should be lead to do anythin' wrong, through not havin' it. I saved him a world o' trouble this vay, Sir."
"That's not precisely what I meant, Sam," said Mr. Pickwick, shaking his head, with a slight smile.
"All good feelin', Sir—the wery best intentions, as the gen'lm'n said ven he run away from his wife, 'cos she seemed unhappy with him," replied Mr. Weller.
"You may go, Sam," said Mr. Pickwick.
"Thank'ee, Sir," replied Mr. Weller; and having made his best bow, and put on his best clothes, Sam planted himself on the top of the Arundel coach, and journeyed on to Dorking.
The Marquis of Granby, in Mrs. Weller's time, was quite a model of a road-side public-house of the better class—just large enough to be a convenient, and small enough to be snug. On the opposite side of the road was a large sign-board on a high post, representing the head and shoulders of a gentleman with an apoplectic countenance, in a red coat, with deep blue facings, and a touch of the same over his three-cornered
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