'Don't trouble Mr.Pickwick about an old creetur like me.

Nobody cares about me now, and it's very nat'ral they shouldn't.' Here the old lady tossed her head, and smoothed down her lavender-coloured silk dress with trembling hands.

'Come, come, ma'am,' said Mr.Pickwick, 'I can't let you cut an old friend in this way.

I have come down expressly to have a long talk, and another rubber with you; and we'll show these boys and girls how to dance a minuet, before they're eight-and-forty hours older.' The old lady was rapidly giving way, but she did not like to do it all at once; so she only said, 'Ah! I can't hear him!' 'Nonsense, mother,' said Wardle.

'Come, come, don't be cross, there's a good soul.