“My dear,” observed Mr. Micawber⁠—but glancing inquisitively at Traddles, too; “we have time enough before us, for the consideration of those questions.”

“Micawber,” she returned, “no! Your mistake in life is, that you do not look forward far enough. You are bound, in justice to your family, if not to yourself, to take in at a comprehensive glance the extremest point in the horizon to which your abilities may lead you.”

Mr. Micawber coughed, and drank his punch with an air of exceeding satisfaction⁠—still glancing at Traddles, as if he desired to have his opinion.

“Why, the plain state of the case, Mrs. Micawber,” said Traddles, mildly breaking the truth to her. “I mean the real prosaic fact, you know⁠—”