don't be cross, there's
a good soul. Recollect Bella; come, you must keep her spirits up, poor
girl.'

The good old lady heard this, for her lip quivered as her son said it.
But age has its little infirmities of temper, and she was not quite
brought round yet. So, she smoothed down the lavender-coloured dress
again, and turning to Mr. Pickwick said, 'Ah, Mr. Pickwick, young people
was very different, when I was a girl.'

'No doubt of that, ma'am,' said Mr. Pickwick, 'and that's the reason why
I would make much of the few that have any traces of the old stock'--and
saying this, Mr. Pickwick gently pulled Bella towards him, and bestowing
a kiss upon her forehead, bade her sit down on the little stool at her
grandmother's feet. Whether the expression of her countenance, as it was
raised towards the old lady's face, called up a thought of old times,
or whether the old lady was touched by Mr. Pickwick's affectionate
good-nature, or whatever was the cause, she was fairly melted; so she
threw herself on her granddaughter's neck, and all the little ill-humour
evaporated in a gush of silent tears.

A happy party they were, that night. Sedate and solemn were the score
of rubbers in which Mr. Pickwick and the old lady played together;
uproarious was the mirth of the round table. Long after the ladies had
retired, did the hot elder wine, well qualified with brandy and spice,
go round, and round, and round again; and sound was the sleep and
pleasant were the dreams that followed. It is a remarkable fact that
those of Mr. Snodgrass bore constant reference to Emily Wardle; and that
the principal figure in Mr. Winkle's visions was a young lady with black
eyes, and arch smile, and a pair of remarkably nice boots with fur round
the tops.

Mr. Pickwick was awakened early in the morning, by a hum of voices and
a pattering of feet, sufficient to rouse even the fat boy from his heavy
slumbers. He sat up in bed and listened. The female servants and
female visitors were running constantly to and fro; and there were such
multitudinous demands for hot water, such repeated outcries for needles
and thread, and so many half-suppressed entreaties of 'Oh, do come and
tie me, there's a dear!' that Mr. Pickwick in his innocence began to
imagine that something dreadful must have occurred--when he grew more
awake, and remembered the wedding. The occasion being an important
one, he dressed himself with peculiar care, and descended to the
breakfast-ro