Poor thing! there are times when ignorance is bliss indeed.
They approached nearer.
'Why, what is the matter with the little old gentleman ?' said Isabella Wardle.

The spinster aunt heeded not the remark; she thought it applied to Mr.Pickwick.In her eyes Tracy Tupman was a youth; she viewed his years through a diminishing glass.
'Don't be frightened,' called out the old host, fearful of alarming his daughters.

The little party had crowded so completely round Mr.Tupman, that they could not yet clearly discern the nature of the accident.
'Don't be frightened,' said the host.
'What's the matter ?' screamed the ladies.
'Mr.Tupman has met with a little accident; that's all.' The spinster aunt uttered a piercing scream, burst into an hysteric laugh, and fell backwards in the arms of her nieces.
'Throw some cold water over her,' said the old gentleman.
'No, no,' murmured the spinster aunt; 'I am better now.

Bella, Emily--a surgeon! Is he wounded ?--Is he dead ?--Is he--Ha, ha, ha!' Here the spinster aunt burst into fit number two, of hysteric laughter interspersed with screams.
'Calm yourself,' said Mr.Tupman, affected almost to tears by this expression of sympathy with his sufferings.

'Dear, dear madam, calm yourself.' 'It is his voice!' exclaimed the spinster aunt; and strong symptoms of fit number three developed themselves forthwith.
'Do not agitate yourself, I entreat you, dearest madam,' said Mr.Tupman soothingly.