“Let me,” says the large man, trying to attract the attention of his wife in the distance, “have the pleasure of presenting Mrs. Podsnap to her host. She will be,” in his fatal freshness he seems to find perpetual verdure and eternal youth in the phrase, “she will be so glad of the opportunity, I am sure!”

In the meantime, Mrs. Podsnap, unable to originate a mistake on her own account, because Mrs. Veneering is the only other lady there, does her best in the way of handsomely supporting her husband’s, by looking towards Mr. Twemlow with a plaintive countenance and remarking to Mrs. Veneering in a feeling manner, firstly, that she fears he has been rather bilious of late, and, secondly, that the baby is already very like him.