He passed his handkerchief
across his forehead, took off his spectacles, wiped them, and put
them on again; and his voice had recovered its wonted softness of
tone when he said--
'What have you there, Sam?'
'Called at the post-office just now, and found this here letter,
as has laid there for two days,' replied Mr. Weller. 'It's sealed
vith a vafer, and directed in round hand.'
'I don't know this hand,' said Mr. Pickwick, opening the
letter. 'Mercy on us! what's this? It must be a jest; it--it--can't
be true.'
'What's the matter?' was the general inquiry.
'Nobody dead, is there?' said Wardle, alarmed at the horror in
Mr. Pickwick's countenance.
Mr. Pickwick made no reply, but, pushing the letter across the
table, and desiring Mr. Tupman to read it aloud, fell back in his
chair with a look of vacant astonishment quite alarming to
behold.
Mr. Tupman, with a trembling voice, read the letter, of which
the following is a copy:--
Freeman's Court, Cornhill,
August 28th, 1827.
Bardell against Pickwick.
Sir,
Having been instructed by Mrs. Martha Bardell to commence
an action against you for a breach of promise of marriage, for which
the plaintiff lays her damages at fifteen hundred pounds, we beg to
inform you that a writ has been issued against you in this suit in the
Court of Common Pleas; and request to know, by return of post, the
name of your attorney in London, who will accept service thereof.
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