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‘
How
dear
Emily
is
flirting
with
the
strange
gentleman
,
’
whispered
the
spinster
aunt
,
with
true
spinster
-
aunt
-
like
envy
,
to
her
brother
,
Mr
.
Wardle
.
‘
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
.
‘
Young
girls
have
such
spirits
,
’
said
Miss
Wardle
to
Mr
.
Tupman
,
with
an
air
of
gentle
commiseration
,
as
if
animal
spirits
were
contraband
,
and
their
possession
without
a
permit
a
high
crime
and
misdemeanour
.
‘
Oh
,
they
have
,
’
replied
Mr
.
Tupman
,
not
exactly
making
the
sort
of
reply
that
was
expected
from
him
.
‘
It
’
s
quite
delightful
.
’
‘
Hem
!
’
said
Miss
Wardle
,
rather
dubiously
.
‘
Will
you
permit
me
?
’
said
Mr
.
Tupman
,
in
his
blandest
manner
,
touching
the
enchanting
Rachael
’
s
wrist
with
one
hand
,
and
gently
elevating
the
bottle
with
the
other
.
‘
Will
you
permit
me
?
’
