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Support the Monkey! Tell All your Friends and Teachers |
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Support the Monkey! Tell All your Friends and Teachers |
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389 The lady sighed. ‘Your soul is too large for your body,’ said Mr Wititterly. ‘Your intellect wears you out; all the medical men say so; you know that there is not a physician 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.’ |
