is tasseled night-cap, secured it
firmly on his head, by tying beneath his chin, the strings which he
always had attached to that article of dress. It was at this moment
that the absurdity of his recent bewilderment struck upon his mind;
and throwing himself back in the rush-bottomed chair, Mr. Pickwick
laughed to himself so heartily, that it would have been quite
delightful to any man of well-constituted mind to have watched the
smiles which expanded his amiable features, as they shone forth, from
beneath the night-cap.

'It is the best idea,' said Mr. Pickwick to himself, smiling till he
almost cracked the night-cap strings--'It is the best idea, my losing
myself in this place, and wandering about those staircases, that I
ever heard of. Droll, droll, very droll.' Here Mr. Pickwick smiled
again, a broader smile than before, and was about to continue the
process of undressing, in the best possible humour, when he was
suddenly stopped by a most unexpected interruption; to wit, the
entrance into the room of some person with a candle, who, after
locking the door, advanced to the dressing table, and set down the
light upon it.

The smile that played upon Mr. Pickwick's features, was
instantaneously lost in a look of the most unbounded and
wonder-stricken surprise. The person, whoever it was, had come so
suddenly and with so little noise, that Mr. Pickwick had had no time
to call out, or oppose their entrance. Who could it be? A robber?
Some evil-minded person who had seen him come upstairs with a
handsome watch in his hand, perhaps. What was he to do!

The only way in which Mr. Pickwick could catch a glimpse of his
mysterious visitor with the least danger of being seen himself, was
by creeping on to the bed, and peeping out from between the curtains
on the opposite side. Keeping the curtains carefully closed with his
hand, so that nothing more of him could be seen than his face and
nightcap, and putting on his spectacles, he mustered up courage, and
looked out.

Mr. Pickwick almost fainted with horror and dismay. Standing before
the dressing glass, was a middle-aged lady in yellow curl-papers,
busily engaged in brushing what ladies call their "back hair."
However the unconscious middle-aged lady came into that room, it was
quite clear that she contemplated remaining