Mary, apparently much relieved, hurried away with her message.

Mr. Pickwick took two or three turns up and down the room; and, rubbing his chin with his left hand as he did so, appeared lost in thought.

“Well, well,” said Mr. Pickwick, at length in a kind but somewhat melancholy tone, “it is the best way in which I could reward him for his attachment and fidelity; let it be so, in Heaven’s name. It is the fate of a lonely old man, that those about him should form new and different attachments and leave him. I have no right to expect that it should be otherwise with me. No, no,” added Mr. Pickwick more cheerfully, “it would be selfish and ungrateful. I ought to be happy to have an opportunity of providing for him so well. I am. Of course I am.”