just wide enough to admit of a person's getting into or out of bed, on

that side, if he or she thought proper. Having carefully drawn the

curtains of his bed on the outside, Mr Pickwick sat down on the rush-

bottomed chair, and leisurely divested himself of his shoes and

gaiters. He then took off and folded up his coat, waistcoat, and

neckcloth, and slowly drawing on his tasselled nightcap, 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.

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 that

expanded his amiable features as they shone forth from beneath the

nightcap.

It is the best idea,' said Mr Pickwick to himself, smiling till he almost

cracked the nightcap strings - 'it is the best idea, my losing myself in

this place, and wandering about these 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 on 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 in 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. To this manoeuvre he accordingly resorted. 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 there for the night; for she had

brought a rushlight and shade with her, which, with praiseworthy

precaution against fire, she had stationed in a basin on the floor,

The Pickwick Papers