'Leave the room, Sir--no business here--lady's free to act as she pleases--more than one-and-twenty.' 'More than one-and-twenty!' ejaculated Wardle contemptuously.

'More than one-and-forty!' 'I ain't,' said the spinster aunt, her indignation getting the better of her determination to faint.
'You are,' replied Wardle; 'you're fifty if you're an hour.' Here the spinster aunt uttered a loud shriek, and became senseless.
'A glass of water,' said the humane Mr.Pickwick, summoning the landlady.
'A glass of water!' said the passionate Wardle.

'Bring a bucket, and throw it all over her; it'll do her good, and she richly deserves it.' 'Ugh, you brute!' ejaculated the kind-hearted landlady.

'Poor dear.' And with sundry ejaculations of 'Come now, there's a dear--drink a little of this--it'll do you good--don't give way so--there's a love,' etc.
etc., the landlady, assisted by a chambermaid, proceeded to vinegar the forehead, beat the hands, titillate the nose, and unlace the stays of the spinster aunt, and to administer such other restoratives as are usually applied by compassionate females to ladies who are endeavouring to ferment themselves into hysterics.
'Coach is ready, Sir,' said Sam, appearing at the door.
'Come along,' cried Wardle.

'I'll carry her downstairs.' At this proposition, the hysterics came on with redoubled violence.
The landlady was about to enter a very violent protest against this proceeding, and had already given vent to an indignant inquiry whether Mr.Wardle considered himself a lord of the creation, when Mr.Jingle interposed-- 'Boots,' said he, 'get me an officer.' 'Stay, stay,' said little Mr.Perker.