“Oh! I don’t know,” said the jolly old gentleman; “all very natural, I dare say⁠—nothing unusual. Mr. Pickwick, some wine, Sir?” Mr. Pickwick, who had been deeply investigating the interior of the pigeon-pie, readily assented.

“Emily, my dear,” said the spinster aunt, with a patronising air, “don’t talk so loud, love.”

“Lor, aunt!”

“Aunt and the little old gentleman want to have it all to themselves, I think,” whispered Miss Isabella Wardle to her sister Emily. The young ladies laughed very heartily, and the old one tried to look amiable, but couldn’t manage it.