no 'things' ready for so important an occasion, and
no time to make them in--a circumstance which appeared to afford the
two worthy papas of the two small young ladies rather a feeling of
satisfaction than otherwise. However, old frocks were trimmed, and new
bonnets made, and the young ladies looked as well as could possibly have
been expected of them. And as they cried at the subsequent ceremony
in the proper places, and trembled at the right times, they acquitted
themselves to the admiration of all beholders. How the two poor
relations ever reached London--whether they walked, or got behind
coaches, or procured lifts in wagons, or carried each other by turns--is
uncertain; but there they were, before Wardle; and the very first people
that knocked at the door of Mr. Pickwick's house, on the bridal morning,
were the two poor relations, all smiles and shirt collar.

They were welcomed heartily though, for riches or poverty had no
influence on Mr. Pickwick; the new servants were all alacrity and
readiness; Sam was in a most unrivalled state of high spirits and
excitement; Mary was glowing with beauty and smart ribands.

The bridegroom, who had been staying at the house for two or three days
previous, sallied forth gallantly to Dulwich Church to meet the bride,
attended by Mr. Pickwick, Ben Allen, Bob Sawyer, and Mr. Tupman; with
Sam Weller outside, having at his button-hole a white favour, the gift
of his lady-love, and clad in a new and gorgeous suit of livery invented
for the occasion. They were met by the Wardles, and the Winkles, and the
bride and bridesmaids, and the Trundles; and the ceremony having been
performed, the coaches rattled back to Mr. Pickwick's to breakfast,
where little Mr. Perker already awaited them.

Here, all the light clouds of the more solemn part of the proceedings
passed away; every face shone forth joyously; and nothing was to
be heard but congratulations and commendations. Everything was
so beautiful! The lawn in front, the garden behind, the miniature
conservatory, the dining-room, the drawing-room, the bedrooms,
the smoking-room, and, above all, the study, with its pictures and
easy-chairs, and odd cabinets, and queer tables, and books out of
number, with a large cheerful window opening upon a pleasant lawn and
commanding a pretty landscape, dotted here and there with little houses
almost hidden by the trees; and then the curtains, and the carpets, and
the chairs, and the sofas! Everythin