'You recollect Arabella, Winkle?
My sister Arabella--a little girl, Winkle, with black eyes--when we were down at Wardle's?
I don't know whether you happened to notice her--a nice little girl, Winkle.

Perhaps my features may recall her countenance to your recollection ?' Mr.Winkle required nothing to recall the charming Arabella to his mind; and it was rather fortunate he did not, for the features of her brother Benjamin would unquestionably have proved but an indifferent refresher to his memory.

He answered, with as much calmness as he could assume, that he perfectly remembered the young lady referred to, and sincerely trusted she was in good health.
'Our friend Bob is a delightful fellow, Winkle,' was the only reply of Mr.Ben Allen.
'Very,' said Mr.Winkle, not much relishing this close connection of the two names.
'I designed 'em for each other; they were made for each other, sent into the world for each other, born for each other, Winkle,' said Mr.Ben Allen, setting down his glass with emphasis.

'There's a special destiny in the matter, my dear sir; there's only five years' difference between 'em, and both their birthdays are in August.' Mr.Winkle was too anxious to hear what was to follow to express much wonderment at this extraordinary coincidence, marvellous as it was; so Mr.Ben Allen, after a tear or two, went on to say that, notwithstanding all his esteem and respect and veneration for his friend, Arabella had unaccountably and undutifully evinced the most determined antipathy to his person.
'And I think,' said Mr.Ben Allen, in conclusion.

'I think there's a prior attachment.' 'Have you any idea who the object of it might be ?' asked Mr.Winkle, with great trepidation.
Mr.Ben Allen seized the poker, flourished it in a warlike manner above his head, inflicted a savage blow on an imaginary skull, and wound up by saying, in a very expressive manner, that he only wished he could guess; that was all.
'I'd show him what I thought of him,' said Mr.Ben Allen.