You don't go to meeting, I think ?' Here the lady on the right of Mrs Brick gave a pious cough as much as to say 'I do!'-- as, indeed, she did nearly every night in the week.
'A good discourse, ma'am ?' asked Mr Bevan, addressing this lady.
The lady raised her eyes in a pious manner, and answered 'Yes.' She had been much comforted by some good, strong, peppery doctrine, which satisfactorily disposed of all her friends and acquaintances, and quite settled their business.

Her bonnet, too, had far outshone every bonnet in the congregation; so she was tranquil on all accounts.
'What course of lectures are you attending now, ma'am ?' said Martin's friend, turning again to Mrs Brick.
'The Philosophy of the Soul, on Wednesdays.' 'On Mondays ?' 'The Philosophy of Crime.' 'On Fridays ?' 'The Philosophy of Vegetables.' 'You have forgotten Thursdays; the Philosophy of Government, my dear,' observed the third lady.
'No,' said Mrs Brick.

'That's Tuesdays.' 'So it is!' cried the lady.

'The Philosophy of Matter on Thursdays, of course.' 'You see, Mr Chuzzlewit, our ladies are fully employed,' said Bevan.
'Indeed you have reason to say so,' answered Martin.

'Between these very grave pursuits abroad, and family duties at home, their time must be pretty well engrossed.' Martin stopped here, for he saw that the ladies regarded him with no very great favour, though what he had done to deserve the disdainful expression which appeared in their faces he was at a loss to divine.