THE PICK'vS'ICK CLUE. 149
" Finely expressed," said Mr. Pickwick.
- All point, Sir, all point," said Mr, Leo Hunter, l*ut you bliail
hear Mrs. Leo Hunter repeat it. She can do justice to it, Sir. She will repeat it, in character, Sir, to-morrow morning-."
- ' In character ! "
" As Minerva. But 1 forgot — it's a fancy dress dejeune."
Dear me," said Mr. Pickwick, glancing- at his own figure — " I can't possibly " —
" Can't Sir ; can't ! " exclaimed Mr. Leo Hunter. " Solomon Lucas the Jew in the High Street, has thousands of fancy dresses. Consider, Sir, how many appropriate characters are open for your selection. Plato, Zeno, Epicurus, Pythagoras— all founders of clubs."
" I know that," said Mr. Pickwick, *' but as I cannot put myself in competition with those great men, I cannot presume to wear their dresses."
The grave man considered deeply, for a few seconds, and then said,
" On reflection. Sir, I don't know whether it would not afford Mrp. Leo Hunter greater pleasure, if her guests saw a gentleman of your celebrity in his own costume, rather than in an assumed one. I may venture to promise an exception in your case, Sir — yes, I am quite certain that on behalf of Mrs. Leo Hunter, I may venture to do so."
" In that case," said Mr. Pickwick, '^ I shall have great pleasure in coming."
" But I waste your time. Sir," said the grave man, as if suddenly- recollecting himself. '* I know its value. Sir. I will not detain you. I may tell Mrs. Leo Hunter, then, that she may confidently expect you and your distinguished friends? Good morning, Sir, I am proud to have beheld so eminent a personage — not a step. Sir; not a word." And without giving Mr. Pickwick time to offer remonstrance or denial Mr. Leo Hunter stalked gravely away.
Mr. Pickwick took up his hat, and repaired to the Peacock, but Mr. Winkle had conveyed the intelligence of the fancy ball there, before him.
" Mrs. Pott's going," were the first words with which he saluted his leader.
" Is she ? " said Mr. Pickwick.
" As Apollo," replied Mr. Winkle. " Only Pott objects to the tunic."
" He is right. He is quite right," said Mr. Pickwick emphatically.
" Yes ; — so she's going to wear a white satin gown with gold spangles."
" They'll hardly know what she's meant for ; will they ? " inquired Mr. Snodgrass.
" Of course they will," replied Mr. Winkle indignantly. " They'll see her lyre, won't they ? *'
" True ; " I forgot that," said Mr. Snodgrass.
" I shall go as a Bandit," interposed Mr. Tupman.
" What ! " said Mr. Pickwick, with a sudden start.
" As a bandit," repeated INIr. Tupman, mildly.
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