Mr Tupman rang the bell, paid for the tickets, and ordered candles to litght he the way to their rooms. In another quarter of an hour the stranger was completely dressed in a full suit of Mr Nathaniel Winkle's.

'It's a new coat,' said Mr Tupman, as the stranger looked at himself with great complacency in the mirror; 'the first that's been made with our club button,' and he called his companions' attention to the large gold button which displayed a bust of Mr Pickwick in the centre, and the letters 'P. C.' on either side.

'P. C.' said the stranger - 'A strange arrangement - that's the old fellow's likeness, and "P. C." - What does "P. C." stand for - Peculiar Coat, eh?'

Mr Tupman, with rising indignation and great importance, explained the meaning.

'Rather short in the waist, ain't it?' said the stranger, screwing himself round to catch a glimpse in the glass of the waist buttons, which were half-way up his back. 'Like a postman's coat. Odd coats those - made by contract - no measuring - mysterious how all the short men get long coats - all the long men short ones.' Still talking in this way, Mr Tupman's new companion adjusted his clothing, or rather the clothing of Mr Winkle; and, together with Mr Tupman, ascended the staircase leading to the ballroom.