been previously arranged that they should all re-assemble at the Town Arms in the morning, and accompany the honourable Samuel Slumkey's procession to the place of nomination.
Mr. Pott's domestic circle was limited to himself and his wife. All men whom mighty genius has raised to a proud eminence in the world, have usually some little weakness which appears the more conspicuous from the contrast it presents to their general character. If Mr. Pott had a weakness, it was, perhaps, that he was rather too submissive to the somewhat contemptuous control and sway of his wife. We do not feel justified in laying any particular stress upon the fact, because on the present occasion all Mrs. Pott's most winning ways were brought into requisition to receive the two gentlemen.
"My dear," said Mr. Pott, "Mr. Pickwick—Mr. Pickwick of London."
Mrs. Pott received Mr. Pickwick's paternal grasp of the hand with enchanting sweetness: and Mr. Winkle, who had not been announced at all, slided and bowed, unnoticed, in an obscure corner.
"P. my dear—" said Mrs. Pott.
"My life," said Mr. Pott.
"Pray introduce the other gentleman."
"I beg a thousand pardons," said Mr. Pott. "Permit me, Mrs. Pott, Mr.—"
"Winkle," said Mr. Pickwick.
"Winkle," echoed Mr. Pott; and the ceremony of introduction was complete.
"We owe you many apologies, ma'am," said Mr. Pickwick, "for disturbing your domestic arrangements at so short a notice."
"I beg you won't mention it, sir," replied the feminine Pott, with vivacity. "It is a high treat to me, I assure you, to see any new faces; living as I do, from day to day, and week to week, in this dull place, and seeing nobody."
"Nobody, my dear!" exclaimed Mr. Pott, archly.
