But, two or three weeks ago, Twemlow, sitting over his newspaper, and over his dry-toast and weak tea, and over the stable-yard in Duke Street, St. James’s, received a highly-perfumed cocked-hat and monogram from Mrs. Veneering, entreating her dearest Mr. T. , if not particularly engaged that day, to come like a charming soul and make a fourth at dinner with dear Mr. Podsnap, for the discussion of an interesting family topic; the last three words doubly underlined and pointed with a note of admiration. And Twemlow replying, “Not engaged, and more than delighted,” goes, and this takes place:

“My dear Twemlow,” says Veneering, “your ready response to Anastatia’s unceremonious invitation is truly kind, and like an old, old friend. You know our dear friend Podsnap?”