THE PICKWICK CLUB. 379
" Don't mention it," said Sam, taking a letter with a small enclosure.
- It's just possible as exhausted natur may manag^e to surwive it."
" I hope we shall meet again, Sir," said the powdered-headed foot- man, rubbing his hands, and following Sam out to the door-step.
" You are wery obligin'. Sir," replied Sam. " Now, don't allow yourself to be fatigued beyond your powers, there's a amiable bein*. Consider what you owe to society, and don't let yourself be injured by too much work. For the sake o' your feller creeturs, keep yourself as quiet as you can ; only think what a loss you would be." With these pathetic words, Sam Weller departed.
" A very singular young man that," said the powdered-headed foot- man, looking after Mr. Weller with a countenance which clearly showed he could make nothing of him.
Sam said nothing at all. He winked, shook his head, smiled, winked again ; and with an expression of countenance which seemed to de- note that he was greatly amused with something or other, walked mer- rily away.
At precisely twenty minutes before eight o'clock that night, Angelo Cyrus Bantam, Esquire, the Master of the Ceremonies, emerged from his chariot at the door of the Assembly Rooms in the same wig, the same teeth, the same eye-glass, the same watch and seals, the same rings, the same shirt-pin, and the same cane. The only observable alterations in his appearance, were, that he wore a brighter blue coat, with a white silk lining, black tights, black silk stockings, and pumps, and a white waistcoat, and was, if possible, just a thought more scented.
Thus attired, the Master of the Ceremonies, in strict discharge of the important duties of his all-important office, planted himself in the rooms to receive the com.pany.
Bath being full, the company, and the sixpences for tea, poured in, in shoals. In the ball-room, the long card-room, the octagonal card- room, the staircases, and the passages, the hum of many voices, and the sound of many feet, were perfectly bewildering. Dresses rustled, feathers waved, lights shone, and jewels sparkled. There was the music — not of the quadrille band, for it had not yet commenced ; but the music of soft tiny footsteps, with now and then a clear merry laugh — low and gentle, but very pleasant to hear in a female voice, whe- ther in Bath or elsewhere. Brilliant eyes, lighted up with pleasurable expectation, gleamed from every side ; and look where you would, some exquisite form glided gracefully through the throng, and was no sooner lost, than it was replaced by another, as dainty and bewitching.
In the tea-room, and hovering round the card-tables, were a vast number of queer old ladies and decrepid old gentlemen, discussing all the small talk and scandal of the day, with an evident relish and gusto which sufficiently bespoke the intensity of the pleasure they derived from the occupation. Mingled with these groups were three or four matchmaking mammas, appearing to be wholly absorbed by the conver- sation in which they were taking part, but failing not from time to time to cast an anxious sidelong glance upon their daughters, who, remera-
