Accordingly, next morning, Sam Weller issued forth upon his
quest, in no way daunted by the very discouraging prospect
before him; and away he walked, up one street and down another
--we were going to say, up one hill and down another, only it's
all uphill at Clifton--without meeting with anything or anybody
that tended to throw the faintest light on the matter in hand.
Many were the colloquies into which Sam entered with grooms
who were airing horses on roads, and nursemaids who were
airing children in lanes; but nothing could Sam elicit from either
the first-mentioned or the last, which bore the slightest reference
to the object of his artfully-prosecuted inquiries. There were a
great many young ladies in a great many houses, the greater part
whereof were shrewdly suspected by the male and female
domestics to be deeply attached to somebody, or perfectly ready
to become so, if opportunity afforded. But as none among these
young ladies was Miss Arabella Allen, the information left
Sam at exactly the old point of wisdom at which he had stood before.
Sam struggled across the Downs against a good high wind,
wondering whether it was always necessary to hold your hat on
with both hands in that part of the country, and came to a shady
by-place, about which were sprinkled several little villas of quiet
and secluded appearance.
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