ian who is not proud of being called in to you. What
is their unanimous declaration? "My dear doctor," said I to Sir Tumley
Snuffim, in this very room, the very last time he came. "My dear doctor,
what is my wife's complaint? Tell me all. I can bear it. Is it nerves?"
"My dear fellow," he said, "be proud of that woman; make much of her;
she is an ornament to the fashionable world, and to you. Her complaint
is soul. It swells, expands, dilates--the blood fires, the pulse
quickens, the excitement increases--Whew!"' Here Mr Wititterly, who, in
the ardour of his description, had flourished his right hand to within
something less than an inch of Mrs Nickleby's bonnet, drew it hastily
back again, and blew his nose as fiercely as if it had been done by some
violent machinery.

'You make me out worse than I am, Henry,' said Mrs Wititterly, with a
faint smile.

'I do not, Julia, I do not,' said Mr W. 'The society in which
you move--necessarily move, from your station, connection, and
endowments--is one vortex and whirlpool of the most frightful
excitement. Bless my heart and body, can I ever forget the night you
danced with the baronet's nephew at the election ball, at Exeter! It was
tremendous.'

'I always suffer for these triumphs afterwards,' said Mrs Wititterly.

'And for that very reason,' rejoined her husband, 'you must have a
companion, in whom there is great gentleness, great sweetness, excessive
sympathy, and perfect repose.'

Here, both Mr and Mrs Wititterly, who had talked rather at the Nicklebys
than to each other, left off speaking, and looked at their two hearers,
with an expression of countenance which seemed to say, 'What do you
think of all this?'

'Mrs Wititterly,' said her husband, addressing himself to Mrs Nickleby,
'is sought after and courted by glittering crowds and brilliant circles.
She is excited by the opera, the drama, the fine arts, the--the--the--'

'The nobility, my love,' interposed Mrs Wititterly.

'The nobility, of course,' said Mr Wititterly. 'And the military. She
forms and expresses an immense variety of opinions on an immense variety
of subjects. If some people in public life were acquainted with Mrs
Wititterly's real opinion of them, they would not hold their heads,
perhaps, quite as high as they do.'

'Hush, Henry,' said the lady; 'this is scarcely fair.'

'I mention no names, Julia,' replied Mr Wititterly; 'and nobody is
injured. I merely mention the circumstance to show that