 This is a LibriVox recording. All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer, please visit LibriVox.org. Recording by Chakris London, UK. Nicholas Nicolby. By Charles Dickens. Chapter 15. Acquaints the reader with the cause and origin of the interruption described in the last chapter, and with some other matters necessary to be known. The nox scrambled in violent haste upstairs with the steaming beverage, which he had so unceremoniously snatched from the table of Mr. Kenwigs, and indeed from the very grasp of the water-rate collector, who was eyeing the contents of the tumbler at the moment of its unexpected abstraction, with lively marks of pleasure visible in his countenance. He bore his prize straight to his own back garret, where foot saw a nearly shoeless, wet, dirty, jaded, and disfigured with every mark of fatiguing travel sat Nicholas and Smyke, at once the cause and partner of his toil, both perfectly worn out by their unwanted and protracted exertion. Newman's first act was to compel Nicholas with gentle force to swallow half of the punch at a breath, nearly boiling as it was, and his next to pour the remainder down the throat of Smyke, who, never having tasted anything stronger than a period medicine in his whole life, exhibited various odd manifestations of surprise and delight during the passage of the liquor down his throat, and turned up his eyes most emphatically when it was all gone. "'You are wet through,' said Newman, passing his hand hastily over the coat which Nicholas had thrown off, and I—I haven't even a change,' he added, with a wistful glance at the shabby clothes he wore himself. "'I have dry clothes, or at least such as will serve my turn well in my bundle,' replied Nicholas. "'If you look so distressed to see me, you will add to the pain I feel already, at being compelled for one night to cast myself upon your slender means for aid and shelter.' Newman did not look the less distressed to hear Nicholas talking in this strain, but upon his young friend grasping him heartily by the hand, and assuring him that nothing but implicit confidence in the sincerity of his professions, and kindness of feeling towards himself, would have induced him on any consideration, even to have made him acquainted with his arrival in London, Mr. Noggs brightened up again, and went about making such arrangements as were in his power for the comfort of his visitors with extreme alacrity. They were simple enough. Poor Newman's means halting at a very considerable distance short of his inclinations. But slight as they were, they were not made without much bustling and running about. As Nicholas had husbandhood his scanty stock of money so well that it was not yet quite expended, a supper of bread and cheese, with some cold beef from the cook's shop, was soon placed upon the table, and these viands being flanked by a bottle of spirits and a pot of porter, there was no ground for apprehension on the score of hunger or thirst at all events. Such preparations as Newman had it in his power to make, for the accommodation of his guests during the night, occupied no very great time in completing. And as he had insisted, as an express preliminary, that Nicholas should change his clothes, and that Smike should invest himself in his solitary coat, which no entreaties would dissuade him from stripping off for the purpose, the travellers partook of their frugal fare, with more satisfaction than one of them, at least, had derived from many a better meal. They then drew near the fire, which Newman Knox had made up as well as he could, after the inroads of Crowell upon the fuel. And Nicholas, who had hitherto been restrained by the extreme anxiety of his friend, that he should refresh himself after his journey, now pressed in with earnest questions concerning his mother and sister. "'Well,' replied Newman, with his accustomed taciturnity, both well. "'They are living in the city still,' inquired Nicholas. "'They are,' said Newman. "'And my sister,' added Nicholas, is she still engaged in the business which she wrote to tell me she thought she should like so much?' Newman opened his eyes rather wider than usual, but merely replied by a gasp, which according to the action of the head that accompanied it was interpreted by his friends as meaning yes or no. In the present instance the pantomime consisted of a nod, and not a shake. So Nicholas took the answer as a favourable one. "'Now listen to me,' said Nicholas, laying his hand on Newman's shoulder. "'Before I would make an effort to see them, I deemed it expedient to come to you, lest, by gratifying my own selfish desire, I should inflict an injury upon them, which I can never repair. What has my uncle heard from Yorkshire?' Newman opened and shut his mouth several times, as though he were trying his utmost to speak, but could make nothing of it, and finally fixed his eyes on Nicholas with a grim and ghastly stare. "'What has he heard?' urged Nicholas, colouring. "'You see that I am prepared to hear the very worst that Malice can have suggested. Why should you conceal it from me? I must know it sooner or later. And what purpose can be gained by trifling with the matter for a few minutes, when half the time will put me in possession of all that has occurred? Tell me at once, pray.' "'Tomorrow morning,' said Newman, hear it to-morrow.' "'What purpose would that answer?' urged Nicholas. "'You would sleep the better,' replied Newman. "'I should sleep the worse,' answered Nicholas impatiently. "'Sleep! But as I am, and standing in no common need of rest, I cannot hope to close my eyes all night unless you tell me everything.' "'And if I should tell you everything,' said Newman, hesitating. "'Why, then you may rouse my indignation or wound my pride,' rejoined Nicholas, but you will not break my rest. For if the scene were acted over again, I could take no other part than I have taken, and whatever consequences may accrue to myself from it, I shall never regret doing as I have done, never, if I starve or beg in consequence. What is a little poverty or suffering to the disgrace of the basest and most inhuman cowardice? I tell you, if I had stood by tamely and passively, I should have hated myself, and merited the contempt of every man in existence, the black-hearted scoundrel.' With this gentle allusion to the absent Mr. Nicholas repressed his rising wrath, and relating to Newman exactly what had passed at Do the Boy's Hall, entreated him to speak out without more pressing. Thus adjured, Mr. Noggs took from an old trunk a sheet of paper, which appeared to have been scrawled over in great haste, and after sundry extraordinary demonstrations of reluctance, delivered himself in the following terms. My dear young man, you mustn't give way to this sort of thing we'll never do, you know, as to getting on in the world if you take everybody's part that's ill-treated. Damn it, I am proud to hear of it, and would have done it myself. Newman accompanied this very unusual outbreak with a violent blow upon the table, as if in the heat of the moment he had mistaken it for the chest or ribs of Mr. Wackford's queers. Having by this open declaration of his feelings quite precluded himself from offering Nicholas any cautious worldly advice, which had been his first intention, Mr. Noggs went straight to the point. The day before yesterday, said Newman, your uncle received this letter. I took a hasty copy of it while he was out. Shall I read it? If you please, replied Nicholas. Newman Noggs accordingly read as follows. Do the boy's haul, Thursday morning. Sir, my pa requests me to write to you the doctor's considerably doubtful whether he will ever recover the use of his legs, which prevents his holding a pen. We are in a state of mind beyond everything, and my pa is one mask of bruises both blue and green, likewise two forms are steepled in his jaw. We were compelled to have him carry down into the kitchen, where he now lays. You will judge from this that he has been brought very low. When your nephew that you recommended for a teacher had done this to my pa, and jumped upon his body with his feet, and also language which I will not pollute my pen with describing, he assaulted my ma with dreadful violence, dashed her to the earth, and drove her back home several inches into her head. A very little more, and it must have entered her skull. We have a medical certificate that if it had, the tortoise shell would have affected the brain. Me and my brother were then the victims of his fury, since which we have suffered very much, which leads us to the arrowing belief that we have received some injury to our insides, especially as no marks of violence are visible externally. I am screaming out loud all the time I write, and so is my brother, which takes off my attention rather and I hope will excuse mistakes. The monster having satiated his thirst for blood ran away, taking with him a boy of desperate character that he had excited to rebellion, and a garnet ring belonging to my ma, and not having been apprehended by the constables is supposed to have been took up by some stage-coach. My pa begs that if he comes to you the ring may be returned, and that you will let the thief and assassin go, as if we prosecuted him he would only be transported, and if he is let go he is sure to be hung before long which will save us trouble and be much more satisfactory. Hoping to hear from you when convenient I remain yours and et cetera, fanny-squiers. P.S. I pity his ignorance and despise him. A profound silence succeeded to the reading of this choice epistle, during which Newmanogs, as he folded it up, gazed with a kind of grotesque pity at the boy of desperate character therein referred to, who, having no more distinct perception of the matter in hand than that he had been the unfortunate cause of heaping trouble and falsehood upon Nicholas, sat mute and dispirited, with the most woe-begone and heart-stricken look. Mr. Nogs said Nicholas after a few moments' reflection. I must go out at once. Go out! cried Newman. Yes, said Nicholas, to Golden Square. Nobody who knows me would believe this story of the ring. But it may suit the purpose or gratify the hatred of Mr. Ralph Nickelbit of feign to attach credence to it. It is due, not to him, but to myself, that I should state the truth. And moreover, I have a word or two to exchange with him which will not keep cool. They must, said Newman, they must not indeed rejoin Nicholas firmly, as he prepared to leave the house. Hear me speak, said Newman, planting himself before his impetuous young friend. He is not there. He is away from town. He will not be back for three days, and I know that letter will not be answered before he returns. Are you sure of this, asked Nicholas, chafing violently, and pacing the narrow room with rapid strides? Quite, rejoined Newman. He had hardly read it when he was called away. Its contents are known to nobody but himself and us. Are you certain, demanded Nicholas precipitately, not even to my mother and sister? If I thought that they—I will go there. I must see them. Which is the way? Where is it? Don't be advised by me, said Newman, speaking for the moment in his earnestness like any other man. Make no effort to see even them till he comes home. I know the man. Do not seem to have been tampering with anybody. When he returns, go straight to him and speak as boldly as you like. Guessing at the real truth, he knows it as well as you or I. Trust him for that. You mean well to me, and should know him better than I can, cried Nicholas after some consideration. Well, let it be so. Newman, who had stood during the foregoing conversation with his back planted against the door, ready to oppose any egress from the apartment by force if necessary, resumed his seat with much satisfaction. And as the water in the kettle was by this time boiling, made a glassful of spritzen water for Nicholas, and a cracked mugful for the joint accommodation of himself and Smike, of which the two partook in great harmony, while Nicholas, leaning his head upon his hand, remained buried in melancholy meditation. Meanwhile, the company below stairs, after listening attentively and not hearing any noise, which would justify them in interfering for the gratification of their curiosity, returned to the chamber of the Kenwigsers, and employed themselves in hazarding a great variety of conjectures relative to the cause of Mr. Nox's sudden disappearance and detention. "'Law, I'll tell you what,' said Mrs. Kenwigs. "'Suppose it should be an express sent up to say that his property has all come back again.' "'Dear me,' said Mr. Kenwigs. "'It's not impossible. Perhaps in that case we are better send up and ask if he won't take a little more punch.' "'Kenwigs!' said Mr. Lilivick, in a loud voice. "'I'm surprised at you.' "'What's the matter, sir?' asked Mr. Kenwigs, with the becoming submission to the collector of water-rates. "'Making such a remark as that, sir,' replied Mr. Lilivick angrily. "'He has had punch already. Has he not, sir? I consider the way in which that punch was cut off, if I may use the expression, highly disrespectful to this company. Scandalous, perfectly scandalous. It may be the custom to allow such things in this house, but it's not the kind of behaviour that I've been used to see displayed, and so I don't mind telling you, Kenwigs. A gentleman has a glass of punch before him, to which he is just about to set his lips, when another gentleman comes and collars that glass of punch without a with-your-leave or by-your-leave, and carries that glass of punch away. This may be good manners. I dare say it is, but I don't understand it. That's all. And what's more, I don't care if I never do. It's my way to speak my mind, Kenwigs, and that is my mind, and if you don't like it, it's past my regular time for going to bed, and I can find my way home without making it later." Here was an untoward event. The collector had sat swelling and fuming in offended dignity for some minutes, and had now fairly burst out. The great man, the rich relation, the unmarried uncle, who had it in his power to make more leaner and air-ess, and the very baby, a legatee, was offended. Gracious powers, where was this to end? I am very sorry, sir, said Mr. Kenwigs, humbly. Don't tell me your sorry, retorted Mr. Lilivick, with much sharpness. You should have prevented it, then. The company were quite paralysed by this domestic crash. The back parlor sat with her mouth wide open, staring vacantly at the collector in a stupor of dismay. The other guests were scarcely less overpowered by the great man's irritation. Mr. Kenwigs, not being skillful in such matters, only fanned the flame in attempting to extinguish it. I didn't think of it, I am sure, sir, said that gentleman. I didn't suppose that such a little thing as a glass of punch would have put you out of temper. Out of temper? What the devil do you mean by that piece of impertinence, Mr. Kenwigs? said the collector. Maulina, child, give me my hat. Oh, you're not going, Mr. Lilivick, sir, interposed Miss Patauka, with her most bewitching smile. But still, Mr. Lilivick, regardless of the siren, cried obdurately, Maulina, my hat. On the fourth repetition of which demand, Mrs. Kenwigs sunk back in her chair, with a cry that might have softened a water-butt, not to say a water-collector. While the four little girls, privately instructed to that effect, clasped their uncle's drab shorts in their arms, and prayed him in imperfect English, to remain. Why should I stop here, my dears, said Mr. Lilivick, I'm not wanted here. Oh, do not speak so cruelly, uncle, sob, Mrs. Kenwigs, unless you wish to kill me. I shouldn't wonder if some people were to say I did, replied Mr. Lilivick, glancing angrily at Kenwigs, out of temper. Oh, I cannot bear to see him look so at my husband, cried Mrs. Kenwigs. It's so dreadful in families. Oh, Mr. Lilivick, said Kenwigs, I hope for the sake of your niece that you won't object to be reconciled. The collector's features relaxed, as the company added their entreaties to those of his nephew-in-law. He gave up his hat, and held out his hand. There, Kenwigs, said Mr. Lilivick, and let me tell you at the same time, to show you how much out of temper I was, that if I had gone away without another word, it would have made no difference respecting that pound or two which I shall leave among your children when I die. Maulina Kenwigs, cried her mother in a torrent of affection, go down upon your niece to your dear uncle and beg him to love you all his life through, for he's more an angel than a man, and I've always said so. Miss Maulina, approaching to do homage, in compliance with this injunction, was summarily caught up and kissed by Mr. Lilivick, and thereupon Mrs. Kenwigs darted forward and kissed the collector, and an irrepressible murmur of applause broke from the company who had witnessed his magnanimity. The worthy gentleman then became once more the life and soul of the society, being again reinstated in his old post of lion, from which high station the temporary distraction of their thoughts had for a moment dispossessed him. Quadruped lions are said to be savage only when they are hungry. Quadruped lions are rarely silky longer than when their appetite for distinction remains unappeased. Mr. Lilivick stood higher than ever, for he had shown his power, hinted at his property and testamentary intentions, gained great credit for disinterestedness and virtue, and in addition to all, was finally accommodated with a much larger tumbler of punch than that which Newman Nogs had so feloniously made off with. I say, I beg everybody's pardon for intruding again, set-croll, looking in at this happy juncture, but what a queer business this is, isn't it? Nogs has lived in this house now going on for five years, and nobody has ever been to see him before within the memory of the oldest inhabitant. It's a strange time of night to be called away, sir, certainly," said the collector, and the behaviour of Mr. Nogs himself is, to say the least of it, mysterious. Well, so it is, rejoined crow. And I'll tell you what's more, I think these two geniuses, whoever they are, have run away from somewhere. What makes you think that, sir? demanded the collector, who seemed by a tacit understanding to have been chosen and elected mouthpiece to the company. You have no reason to suppose that they have run away from anywhere without paying the rates and taxes, do I hope? Mr. Crowell, with a look of some contempt, was about to enter a general protest against the payment of rates or taxes under any circumstances, when he was checked by a timely whisper from Kenwigs, and several frowns and winks from Mrs. K., which providentially stopped him. Why, the fact is, set Crowell, who had been listening at Newman's door with all his might and main. The fact is, that they have been talking so loud, that they quite disturbed me in my room, and so I couldn't help catching a word here and a word there, and all I heard certainly seemed to refer to their having bolted from some place or other. I don't wish to alarm Mrs. Kenwigs, but I hope they haven't come from any jail or hospital, and brought away a fever or some unpleasantness of that sort, which might be catching for the children. Mrs. Kenwigs was so overpowered by this supposition, that it needed all the tender attentions of Miss Patauka, of the theatre-royal Drury Lane, to restore her to anything like a state of calmness. Not to mention the aciduity of Mr. Kenwigs, who held a fat smelling bottle to his lady's nose, until it became matter of some doubt whether the tears which coursed down her face were the result of feelings or salvolattle. The ladies, having expressed their sympathy, singly and separately, fell, according to custom, into a little chorus of soothing expressions, among which such condolences as poor dear. I should feel just the same if I was her. To be sure it's a very trying thing, and nobody but a mother knows what a mother's feeling says, were among the most prominent and the most frequently repeated. In short, the opinion of the company was so clearly manifested, that Mr. Kenwigs was on the point of repairing to Mr. Nox's room to demand an explanation, and had indeed swallowed a preparatory glass of punch, with great inflexibility and steadiness of purpose, when the attention of all present was diverted by a new and terrible surprise. This was nothing less than the sudden pouring forth of a rapid succession of the shrillest and most piercing screams from an upper story, and to all appearance from the very two-pair back in which the infant Kenwigs was at that moment enshrined. They were no sooner audible than Mrs. Kenwigs, opining that a strange cat had come in and sucked the baby's breath while the girl was asleep, made for the door, wringing her hands and shrieking dismally, to the great consternation and confusion of the company. Mr. Kenwigs, see what it is, make haste, cried the sister, laying violent hands upon Mrs. Kenwigs and holding her back by force. Oh, don't twist about so, dear, or I can never hold you. My baby, my blessed, blessed, blessed, baby, screamed Mrs. Kenwigs, making every blessed louder than the last. My own darling, sweet, innocent, lily-vick, oh, let me go to him, let me go!" Pending the utterance of these frantic cries and the wails and lamentations of the four little girls, Mr. Kenwigs rushed upstairs to the room once the sounds proceeded. At the door of which he encountered Nicholas, with the child in his arms, who darted out with such violence that the anxious father was thrown down six stairs and alighted on the nearest landing-place before he had found time to open his mouth to ask what was the matter. Don't be alarmed, cried Nicholas, running down. Here it is. It's all out. It's all over. Pray compose yourselves. There's no harm done. And with these and a thousand other assurances he delivered the baby, whom in his hurry he had carried upside down, to Mrs. Kenwigs, and ran back to assist Mr. Kenwigs, who was rubbing his head very hard and looking much bewildered by his tumble. Be assured by this cheering intelligence the company in some degree recovered from their fears, which had been productive of some most singular instances of a total want of presence of mind. Thus the bachelor friend had for a long time supported in his arms Mrs. Kenwigs' sister, instead of Mrs. Kenwigs. And the worthy Mr. Lilivick had been actually seen in the perturbation of his spirits to kiss Miss Patauka several times behind the room door, as calmly as if nothing distressing were going forward. It's a mere nothing, said Nicholas, returning to Mrs. Kenwigs. The little girl, who was watching the child, being tired, I suppose, fell asleep and set her hair on fire. Oh, you malicious little wretch, cried Mrs. Kenwigs, impressively shaking her forefinger at the small unfortunate, who might be thirteen years old, and was looking on with a singed head and a frightened face. I heard her cries, continued Nicholas, and ran down, in time to prevent her setting fire to anything else. You may depend upon it that the child is not hurt, for I took it off the bed myself and brought it here to convince you. This brief explanation over, the infant, who, as he was christened after the collector, rejoiced in the names of Lilivick Kenwigs, was partially suffocated under the caresses of the audience, and squeezed to his mother's bosom until he roared again. The attention of the company was then directed by a natural transition, to the little girl who had had the audacity to burn her hair off, and who, after receiving sundry small slaps and pushers from the more energetic of the ladies, was mercifully sent home, the nine pence with which she was to have been rewarded, being escheated to the Kenwigs' family. From whatever we are to say to you, sir," exclaimed Mrs. Kenwigs, addressing young Lilivick's deliverer,--"I'm sure I don't know."--"You need say nothing at all," replied Nicholas.--"I have done nothing to found any very strong claim upon your eloquence. I'm sure."--"He might have been burnt to death if it hadn't been for you, sir," simped Miss Patauka.--"Not very likely, I think," replied Nicholas, for there was abundance of assistance here, which must have reached him before he had been in any danger.--"You will let us drink your health, any vase, sir," said Mr. Kenwigs, motioning towards the table.--"In my absence, by all means," rejoined Nicholas, with a smile,--"I have had a very fatiguing journey, and should be most indifferent to company, a far greater check upon your merriment than a promoter of it, even if I kept awake, which I think very doubtful. If you will allow me, I'll return to my friend Mr. Noggs, who went upstairs again when he found nothing serious had occurred. Good night." Excusing himself in these terms from joining in the festivities, Nicholas took a most winning farewell of Mrs. Kenwigs and the other ladies, and retired after making a very extraordinary impression upon the company.--"What a delightful young man," cried Mrs. Kenwigs.--"Uncommon gentlemanly, really," said Mr. Kenwigs.--"Don't you think so, Mr. Lilivick?"--"Yes," said the collector, with a dubious shrug of his shoulders.--"He's gentlemanly, very gentlemanly, in appearance."--"I hope you don't see anything against him, uncle," inquired Mrs. Kenwigs.--"No, my dear," replied the collector.--"No. I trust he may not turn out, well, no matter. My love to you, my dear, and long life to the baby."--"Your namesake," said Mrs. Kenwigs, with a sweet smile.--"And I hope a worthy namesake," observed Mr. Kenwigs, willing to propitiate the collector.--"I hope a baby as well never disgrace his godfather, and as may be considered in utter years of a peace with the Lilivicks whose name he bears. I do say, and Mrs. Kenwigs is of the same sentiment and feels it as strong as I do, that I consider his being called Lilivick, one of the greatest blessings and honours of my existence.--"The greatest blessing," Kenwigs," murmured his lady.--"The greatest blessing," said Mr. Kenwigs, correcting himself.--"A blessing that I hope, one of these days, I may be able to deserve." This was a politic stroke of the Kenwigs's, because it made Mr. Lilivick the great head and fountain of the baby's importance. The good gentleman felt the delicacy and dexterity of the touch, and at once proposed the health of the gentleman's name unknown who had signalised himself that night by his coolness and alacrity.--"Who, I don't mind saying," observed Mr. Lilivick as a great concession,--"is a good-looking young man enough, with manners that I hope his character may be equal to."--"He has a very nice face and style, really," said Mrs. Kenwigs.--"He certainly has," added Miss Patauka.--"There's something in his appearance quite--"--"Dear, dear, what's that word again?"--"What word?" inquired Mr. Lilivick.--"Why, dear, me, how stupid I am," replied Miss Patauka, hesitating.--"What do you call it, when lords break off door-knockers and beat policemen, and play at coaches with other people's money and all that sort of thing?"--"Aristocratic," suggested the collector.--"Ah, aristocratic," replied Miss Patauka,--"something very aristocratic about him, isn't there?" The gentlemen held their peace and smiled at each other, as who should say,--"Well, there's no accounting for tastes." But the ladies resolved unanimously that Nicholas had an aristocratic heir, and nobody caring to dispute the position, it was established triumphantly. The punch, being by this time drunk out, and the little Kenwigsers, who had for some time previously held their little eyes open with their little forefingers becoming fractious, and requesting rather urgently to be put to bed, the collector made a move by pulling out his watch, and acquainting the company that it was nigh two o'clock, whereat some of the guests were surprised and others shocked, and had some bonnets being groped for under the tables, and in the course of time found, their owners went away after a vast deal of shaking of hands, and many remarks how they had never spent such a delightful evening, and how they marveled to find it so late, expecting to have heard that it was half past ten at the very latest, and how they wished that Mr. and Mrs. Kenwigs had a wedding day once a week, and how they wondered by what hidden agency Mrs. Kenwigs could possibly have managed so well, and a great deal more of the same kind. To all of which flattering expressions, Mr. and Mrs. Kenwigs replied by thanking every lady and gentleman, Siriatim, for the favour of their company, and hoping they might have enjoyed themselves only half as well as they had said they had. As to Nicholas, quite unconscious of the impression he had produced, he had long since fallen asleep, leaving Mr. Newman noggs and smike to empty the spirit-bottle between them, and this office they performed with such extreme good will, that Newman was equally at a loss to determine whether he himself was quite sober, and whether he had ever seen any gentleman so heavily, drowsily, and completely intoxicated as his new acquaintance. CHAPTER XVI Nicholas seeks to employ himself in a new capacity, and being unsuccessful accepts an engagement as tutor in a private family. The first care of Nicholas next morning was to look after some room in which until better times dawned upon him he could contrive to exist without trenching upon the hospitality of Newman noggs, who would have slept upon the stairs with pleasure so that his young friend was accommodated. The vacant apartment to which the bill in the parlour window bore reference appeared on inquiry to be a small back room on the second floor, reclaimed from the leads, and overlooking a soot-bespeckled prospect of tiles and chimney-pots. For the letting of this portion of the house from week to week, on reasonable terms, the parlour lodger was empowered to treat, he being deputed by the landlord to dispose of the rooms as they became vacant, and to keep a sharp lookout that the lodgers didn't run away. As a means of securing the punctual discharge of which last service he was permitted to live rent-free, lest he should at any time be tempted to run away himself. Of this chamber Nicholas became the tenant, and having hired a few common articles of furniture from a neighbouring broker, and paid the first week's hire in advance out of a small fund raised by the conversion of some spare clothes into ready money, he sat himself down to ruminate upon his prospects, which, like the prospect outside his window, were sufficiently confined and dingy. As they by no means improved on better acquaintance, and as familiarity breeds contempt, he resolved to banish them from his thoughts by dint of hard walking. So taking up his hat, and leaving poor smike to arrange and rearrange the room, with as much delight as if it had been the costliest palace, he betook himself to the streets, and mingled with the crowd which thronged them. Although a man may lose a sense of his own importance when he is a mere unit among a busy throng, all utterly regardless of him, it by no means follows that he can dispossess himself with equal facility of a very strong sense of the importance and magnitude of his cares. The unhappy state of his own affairs was the one idea which occupied the brain of Nicholas, walk as fast as he would, and when he tried to dislodge it by speculating on the situation and prospects of the people who surrounded him, he caught himself in a few seconds contrasting their condition with his own, and gliding almost imperceptibly back into his old train of thought again. Occupied in these reflections, as he was making his way along one of the great public thoroughfares of London, he chanced to raise his eyes to a blue board whereon was inscribed in characters of gold general agency office for places and situations of all kinds inquire within. It was a shop front fitted up with a gore's blind and an inn adore, and in the window hung a long and tempting array of written placards, announcing vacant places of every grade from as secretaries to a foot-boys. Nicholas halted instinctively before this temple of promise, and ran his eye over the capital text openings in life which were so profusely displayed. When he had completed his survey, he walked on a little way, and then back, and then on again. At length, after pausing irresolutely several times before the door of the general agency office, he made up his mind and stepped in. He found himself in a little floor clothed room, with a high desk railed off in one corner, behind which sat a lean youth with cunning eyes and a protruding chin, whose performances in capital text darkened the window. He had a thick ledger lying open before him, and with the fingers of his right hand inserted between the leaves, and his eyes fixed on a very fat old lady in a mob cap, evidently the proprietress of the establishment, who was airing herself at the fire, seemed to be only waiting her directions to refer to some entries contained within its rusty clasps. As there was a board outside, which acquainted the public that servants of all work were perpetually in waiting to be hired from ten till four, Nicholas knew at once that some half-dozen strong young women, each with patterns and an umbrella, who were sitting upon a form in one corner, were in attendance for that purpose. Only as the poor things looked anxious and weary. He was not quite so certain of the callings and stations of two smart young ladies who were in conversation with the fat lady before the fire, until, having sat himself down in a corner, and remarked that he would wait until the other customers had been served, the fat lady resumed the dialogue which his entrance had interrupted. Cook, Tom, said the fat lady, still airing herself as a fore-said. Cook, said Tom, turning over some leaves of the ledger. Well. Read out an easy place or two, said the fat lady. Pick out very light ones, if you please, young man, interposed a gentile female in shepherd's plaid boots, who appeared to be the client. Mrs. Marker, said Tom, reading, Russell Place, Russell Square, offers eighteen guineas, tea and sugar found. Two in family, and see very little company. Five servants kept. No man, no followers. Oh, Lord, titted the client, that won't do. Read another young man, will you? Mrs. Rhymog, said Tom, pleasant place, Finnsbury, wages twelve guineas, no tea, no sugar, serious family. Oh, you needn't mind reading that, interrupted the client. Three serious footmen, said Tom impressively. Three, did you say? asked the client in an altered tone. Three serious footmen, replied Tom, Cook, housemaid and nursemaid. Each female servant required to join the little Bethel congregation three times every Sunday with a serious footman. If the cook is more serious than the footman, she will be expected to improve the footman. If the footman is more serious than the cook, he will be expected to improve the cook. I'll take the address of that place, said the client. I don't know, but it mightn't suit me pretty well. Here's another remarked Tom, turning over the leaves. Family of Mr. Gallenbile, MP, fifteen guineas, tea and sugar, and servants allowed to see male cousins, if godly. Note, cold dinner in the kitchen on the Sabbath, Mr. Gallenbile being devoted to the observance question. No victuals whatever cooked on the Lord's day, with the exception of dinner for Mr. and Mrs. Gallenbile, which, being a work of piety and necessity, is exempted. Mr. Gallenbile dines late on the day of rest, in order to prevent the sinfulness of the cook's dressing herself. I don't think that'll answer as well as the other, said the client, after a little whispering with her friend. I'll take the other direction, if you please, young man. I can, but come back again, if it don't do. Tom made out the address, as requested, and the gentile client, having satisfied the fat lady with a small fee, meanwhile, went away accompanied by her friend. As Nicholas opened his mouth, to request the young man to turn to letter S, and let him know what secretary-ships remained undisposed of, there came into the office an applicant, in whose favour he immediately retired, and whose appearance both surprised and interested him. This was a young lady, who could be scarcely eighteen, a very slight and delicate figure, but exquisitely shaped, who walking timidly up to the desk made an inquiry in a very low tone of voice, relative to some situation as governess, or companion to a lady. She raised her veil for an instant, while she preferred the inquiry, and disclosed a countenance of most uncommon beauty, though shaded by a cloud of sadness, which in one so young was doubly remarkable. Having received a card of reference to some person on the books, she made the usual acknowledgement and glided away. She was neatly, but very quietly, attired. So much so, indeed, that it seemed as though her dress, if it had been worn by one who imparted fewer graces of her own to it, might have looked poor and shabby. Her attendant, for she had one, was a red-faced, round-eyed, slovenly girl, who, from a certain roughness about the bare arms that peeped from under her draggled shawl, and the half washed out traces of smut and black lead, which tattooed her countenance, was clearly of a kin with the servants of all work on the form, between whom and herself there had passed various grins and glances indicative of the freemasonry of the craft. This girl followed her mistress, and before Nicholas had recovered from the first effects of his surprise and admiration, the young lady was gone. It is not a matter of such complete and utter improbability as some sober people may think that he would have followed them out, had he not been restrained by what passed between the fat lady and her book-keeper. �When is she coming again, Tom?� asked the fat lady. �Tomorrow morning� replied Tom, mending his pen. �Where have you sent her to?� asked the fat lady. �Mrs. Clarks� replied Tom. �She'll have a nice life of it if she goes there,� observed the fat lady, taking a pinch of snuff from a tin box. Tom made no other reply than thrusting his tongue into his cheek, and pointing the feather of his pen toward Nicholas, or reminders which elicited from the fat lady an inquiry of, �Now, sir, what can we do for you?� Nicholas briefly replied that he wanted to know whether there was any such post to be had as secretary or manuensis to a gentleman. �Any such� rejoined the mistress, �a dozen such, ain�t there, Tom? �I should think so� answered that young gentleman, and as he said it, he winked towards Nicholas with a degree of familiarity, which he no doubt intended for a rather flattering compliment, but with which Nicholas was most ungratefully disgusted. Upon reference to the book, it appeared that the dozen secretary-ships had dwindled down to one. Mr. Greggsbury, the great member of Parliament of Manchester Buildings Westminster, wanted a young man to keep his papers and correspondence in order, and Nicholas was exactly the sort of young man that Mr. Greggsbury wanted. �I don�t know what the terms are, as he said it settled them himself with the party,� observed the fat lady, �but they must be pretty good ones, because he is a member of Parliament.� Inexperienced as he was, Nicholas did not feel quite assured of the force of this reasoning, or the justice of this conclusion. But without troubling himself to question it, he took down the address, and resolved to wait upon Mr. Greggsbury without delay. �I don�t know what the number is, said Tom, but Manchester Buildings isn�t a large place, and if the worst comes to the worst, it won�t take you very long to knock at all the doors on both sides of the way till you find him out. I say, what a good-looking gal that was, wasn�t she? �What girl?� demanded Nicholas sternly. �Oh, yes. I know what gal, eh?� whispered Tom, shutting one eye and cocking his chin in the air. �You didn�t see her, didn�t I say? Don�t you wish she was me, when she comes to more a morning?� Nicholas looked at the ugly clerk, as if he had a mind to reward his admiration of the young lady, by beating the ledger about his ears. But he refrained and strode haughtily out of the office. Setting at defiance in his indignation those ancient laws of chivalry, which not only made it proper and lawful for all good-nights to hear the praise of the ladies to whom they were devoted, but rendered it incumbent upon them to roam about the world and knock at head all such matter of fact and unpoetical characters, as declined to exalt above all the earth damsels whom they had never chanced to look upon or hear of, as if that were any excuse. Thinking no longer of his own misfortunes, but wondering what could be those of the beautiful girl he had seen, Nicholas with many wrong turns and many inquiries, almost as many misdirections, bent his steps toward the place whither he had been directed. Within the precincts of the ancient city of Westminster, and within half a quarter of a mile of its ancient sanctuary, is a narrow and dirty region, the sanctuary of the smaller members of Parliament in modern days. It is all comprised in one street of gloomy lodging-houses, from whose windows, in vacation time, there frown long melancholy rows of bills, which say as plainly as did the countenances of their occupiers, ranged on ministerial and opposition benches in the session which slumbers with its fathers, to let, to let. In busier periods of the year these bills disappear, and the houses swarm with legislators. There are legislators in the parlours, in the first floor, in the second, in the third, in the garrets. The small apartments reek with the breath of deputations and delegates. In damp weather the place is rendered close by the steams of moist acts of Parliament, and frousy petitions. General postmen grow faint as they enter its infected limits, and shabby figures in quest of franks, flit restlessly to and fro like the troubled ghosts of complete letter-writers departed. This is Manchester buildings. And here, at all hours of the night, may be heard the rattling of latch-keys in their respective key-holes. With now and then, when a gust of wind sweeping across the water which washes the building's feet, impels the sound towards its entrance, the weak, shrill voice of some young member practising tomorrow's speech. All the live-long day there is a grinding of organs, and clashing and clanging of little boxes of music. For Manchester buildings is an eel-pot, which has no outlet but its awkward mouth, a case-bottle which has no thoroughfare, and a short and narrow neck. And in this respect it may be typical of the fate of some few among its more adventurous residents, who after wriggling themselves into Parliament by violent efforts and contortions, find that it, too, is no thoroughfare for them, that, like Manchester buildings, it leads to nothing beyond itself, and that they are faint at last to back out, no wiser, no richer, not one whit more famous, than they went in. Into Manchester buildings Nicholas turned, with the address of the great Mr. Greggsbury in his hand. As there was a stream of people pouring into a shabby house not far from the entrance, he waited until they had made their way in, and then making up to the servant, ventured to inquire if he knew where Mr. Greggsbury lived. The servant was a very pale, shabby boy, who looked as if he had slept underground from his infancy, as very likely he had. Mr. Greggsbury, said he, Mr. Greggsbury lodges here. It's all right, come in. Nicholas thought he might as well get in, while he could. So in he walked. And he had no sooner done so than the boy shut the door and made off. This was odd enough. But what was more embarrassing was that all along the passage, and all along the narrow stairs blocking up the window and making the dark entry darker still, was a confused crowd of persons with great importance depicted in their looks, who were to all appearance waiting in silent expectation of some coming event. From time to time one man would whisper his neighbour, or a little group would whisper together, and then the whispers would nod fiercely to each other and give their heads a relentless shake, as if they were bent upon doing something very desperate and were determined not to be put off whatever happened. As a few minutes elapsed, without anything occurring to explain this phenomenon, and as he felt his own position a peculiarly uncomfortable one, Nicholas was on the point of seeking some information from the man next to him, when a sudden move was visible on the stairs, and a voice was heard to cry, Now, gentlemen, have the goodness to walk up! So far from walking up, the gentlemen on the stairs began to walk down with great alacrity, and to entreat with extraordinary politeness that the gentleman nearest the street would go first, the gentleman nearest the street retorted with equal courtesy, that they couldn't think of such a thing on any account. But they did it, without thinking of it, in as much as the other gentlemen pressing some half-dozen, among whom was Nicholas, forward, and closing up behind, pushed them not merely up the stairs, but into the very sitting-room of Mr. Greggsbury, which they were thus compelled to enter with most unseemly precipitation, and without the means of retreat, the press behind them more than filling the apartment. Gentlemen! said Mr. Greggsbury, you are welcome! I am rejoiced to see you. For a gentleman who was rejoiced to see a body of visitors, Mr. Greggsbury looked as uncomfortable as might be, but perhaps this was occasioned by senatorial gravity, and a statesman-like habit of keeping his feelings under control. He was a tough, burly, thick-headed gentleman with a loud voice, a pompous manner, a tolerable command of sentences with no meaning in them, and, in short, every requisite for a very good member indeed. Now, gentlemen! said Mr. Greggsbury, tossing a great bundle of papers into a wicker basket at his feet, and throwing himself back in his chair with his arms over the elbows. You are dissatisfied with my conduct, I see, by the newspapers. Yes, Mr. Greggsbury, we are! said a plump old gentleman in a violent heat, bursting out of the throng and planting himself in the front. Do my eyes deceive me, said Mr. Greggsbury, looking towards the speaker? Or is that my old friend, Pugstiles? I am that man, and no other, sir," replied the plump old gentleman. Give me your hand, my worthy friend, said Mr. Greggsbury. Pugstiles, my dear friend, I am very sorry to see you here. I am very sorry to be here, sir, said Mr. Pugstiles, but your conduct, Mr. Greggsbury, has rendered this deputation from your constituents imperatively necessary. My conduct, Pugstiles, said Mr. Greggsbury, looking round upon the deputation with gracious magnanimity, my conduct has been and ever will be regulated by a sincere regard for the true and real interests of this great and happy country. Whether I look at home, or abroad, whether I behold the peaceful industrious communities of our island home, her rivers covered with steam-boats, her roads with locomotives, her streets with cabs, her skies with balloons of a power and magnitude hitherto unknown in the history of aeronautics, in this or any other nation, I say, whether I look merely at home, or stretching my eyes farther, contemplate the boundless prospect of conquest and possession achieved by British perseverance and British valor, which is outspread before me, I clasp my hands and turning my eyes to the broad expanse above my head, exclaim, Thank heaven, I am a Britain! The time had been when this burst of enthusiasm would have been cheered to the very echo, but now the deputation received it with chilling coldness. The general impression seemed to be that, as an explanation of Mr. Greigsbury's political conduct, it did not enter quite enough into detail, and one gentleman in the rear did not scruple to remark aloud that for his purpose it savored rather too much of a gammon tendency. The meaning of that term, gammon, said Mr. Greigsbury, is unknown to me. If it means that I grow a little too fervid, or perhaps even hyperbolical, in extolling my native land, I admit the full justice of the remark, I am proud of this free and happy country. My form dilates, my eye glistens, my breast heaves, my heart swells, my bosom burns when I call to mind her greatness and her glory. We wish, sir, remarked Mr. Pugstiles calmly, to ask you a few questions. If you please, gentlemen, my time is yours, and my country's, and my country's," said Mr. Greigsbury. This permission being conceded, Mr. Pugstiles put on his spectacles and referred to a written paper which he drew from his pocket, whereupon nearly every other member of the deputation pulled a written paper from his pocket, to check Mr. Pugstiles off as he read the questions. This done, Mr. Pugstiles proceeded to business. Question number one. Whether, sir, you did not give a voluntary pledge previous to your election, that in event of your being returned you would immediately put down the practice of coughing and groaning in the House of Commons? And whether you did not submit to be coughed and groaned down in the very first debate of the session, and have since made no effort to effect a reform in this respect? Whether you did not also pledge yourself to astonish the Government, and make them shrink in their shoes? And whether you have astonished them, and made them shrink in their shoes, or not? Go on to the next one, my dear Pugstiles, said Mr. Greggsbury. Have you any explanation to offer with reference to that question, sir? Asked Mr. Pugstiles. Certainly not, said Mr. Greggsbury. The members of the deputation looked fiercely at each other, and afterwards at the member. Dear Pugstiles, having taken a very long stare at Mr. Greggsbury over the tops of his spectacles, resumed his list of inquiries. Question number two. Whether, sir, you did not likewise give a voluntary pledge that you would support your colleague on every occasion, and whether you did not, the night before last, desert him and vote upon the other side, because the wife of a leader on that other side had invited Mrs. Greggsbury to an evening party? Go on, said Mr. Greggsbury. Nothing to say on that, either, sir, asked the spokesman. Anything whatever, replied Mr. Greggsbury. The deputation, who had only seen him at canvassing or election time, was struck dumb by his coolness. He didn't appear like the same man. Then he was all milk and honey. Now he was all starch and vinegar. But men are so different at different times. Question number three, and last, said Mr. Pugstiles, emphatically. Sir, you did not state upon the hustings that it was your firm and determined intention to oppose everything proposed, to divide the house upon every question, to move for returns on every subject, to place a motion on the books every day, and in short, in your own memorable words, to play the very devil with everything and everybody. With this comprehensive inquiry Mr. Pugstiles folded up his list of questions, as did all his backers. Mr. Greggsbury reflected, blew his nose, threw himself further back in his chair, came forward again, leaning his elbows on the table, made a triangle with his two thumbs and his two forefingers, and tapping his nose with the apex thereof, replied, smiling as he said it, I deny everything. At this unexpected answer a horse murmur arose from the deputation, and the same gentleman who had expressed an opinion relative to the gammoning nature of the introductory speech, again made a monosyllabic demonstration by growling out, Resine, which growl being taken up by his fellows, swelled into a very earnest and general remonstrance. I am requested, sir, to express a hope, said Mr. Pugstiles, with a distant bow, that on receiving a requisition to that effect from a great majority of your constituents, you will not object at once to resign your seat in favour of some candidate whom they think they can better trust. To this Mr. Greggsbury read the following reply, which anticipating the request he had composed in the form of a letter, whereof copies had been made to send round to the newspapers. My dear Mr. Pugstiles! Next to the welfare of our beloved island, this great and free and happy country whose powers and resources are, I sincerely believe, illimitable, I value that noble independence which is an Englishman's proudest boast, and which I fondly hope to bequeath to my children untarnished and unsolid. Actuated by no personal motives, but moved only by high and great constitutional considerations, which I will not attempt to explain, for they are really beneath the comprehension of those who have not made themselves masters, as I have, of the intricate and arduous study of politics, I would rather keep my seat and intend doing so. Will you do me the favour to present my compliments to the constituent body, and acquaint them with this circumstance? With great esteem, my dear Mr. Pugstiles, et cetera, et cetera. Then you will not resign under any circumstances," asked the spokesman. Mr. Greggsbury smiled and shook his head. Then, good morning, sir," said Pugstiles angrily. Heaven bless you," said Mr. Greggsbury, and the deputation with many growls and scowls, filed off as quickly as the narrowness of the staircase would allow of their getting down. The last man being gone, Mr. Greggsbury rubbed his hands and chuckled, as many fellows will, when they think they have said or done a more than commonly good thing. He was so engrossed in this self-congratulation that he did not observe that Nicholas had been left behind in the shadow of the window-curtains. Until that young gentleman, fearing he might otherwise overhear some soliloquy intended to have no listeners, coughed twice or thrice to attract the members' notice. "'What's that?' said Mr. Greggsbury, in sharp accents. Nicholas stepped forward and bowed. "'What do you do here, sir?' asked Mr. Greggsbury. "'A spy upon my privacy, a concealed voter. You have heard my answer, sir. I may follow the deputation. I should have done so if I had belonged to it, but I do not,' said Nicholas. "'Then how came you here, sir?' was the natural inquiry of Mr. Greggsbury, MP. "'And where the devil have you come from, sir?' was the question which followed it. "'I brought this card from the General Agency Office, sir,' said Nicholas, wishing to offer myself as your secretary, and understanding that you stood in need of one. "'That's all you have come for, is it?' said Mr. Greggsbury, eyeing him in some doubt. Nicholas replied in the affirmative. "'You have no connection with any of those rascally papers, have you?' said Mr. Greggsbury. "'You didn't get into the room to hear what was going forward and put it in print, eh?' "'I have no connection, I am sorry to say, with anything at present,' rejoined Nicholas. "'Politely enough, but quite at his ease.' "'Oh!' said Mr. Greggsbury. "'How did you find your way up here, then?' Nicholas related how he had been forced up by the deputation. "'That was the way was it,' said Mr. Greggsbury. "'Sit down.' Nicholas took a chair, and Mr. Greggsbury stared at him for a long time, as if to make certain before he asked any further questions that there were no objections to his outward appearance. "'You want to be my secretary, do you?' he said at length. "'I wish to be employed in that capacity, sir,' replied Nicholas. "'Well,' said Mr. Greggsbury. "'Now what can you do?' "'I suppose,' replied Nicholas, smiling, that I can do what usually falls to the lot of other secretaries. "'What's that?' inquired Mr. Greggsbury. "'What is it?' replied Nicholas. "'Ah! what is it?' retorted the member, looking shrewdly at him with his head on one side. "'A secretary's duties are rather difficult to define, perhaps,' said Nicholas, considering. "'They include, I presume, correspondence. "'Good,' interposed Mr. Greggsbury. "'The arrangement of papers and documents. "'Very good. "'Occasionally perhaps the writing from your dictation, "'and possibly, sir,' said Nicholas, with a half-smile, "'the copying of your speech for some public journal, "'when you have made one of more than usual importance. "'Certainly,' rejoined Mr. Greggsbury. "'What else?' "'Really,' said Nicholas, after a moment's reflection, "'I am not able at this instant to recapitulate any other duty of a secretary, beyond the general one of making himself as agreeable and useful to his employer as he can, consistently with his own respectability, and without overstepping that line of duties which he undertakes to perform, and which the designation of his office is usually understood to imply.' Mr. Greggsbury looked fixedly at Nicholas for a short time, and then glancing warily round the room. Said in a suppressed voice, "'This is all very well, Mr.—' "'What is your name?' "'Nickelby.' "'This is all very well, Mr. Nickelby, and very proper, "'so far as it goes. "'So far as it goes. "'But it doesn't go far enough. "'There are other duties, Mr. Nickelby, which a secretary "'to a parliamentary gentleman must never lose sight of. "'I should require to be crammed, sir.' "'I beg your pardon,' interposed Nicholas, doubtful whether he had heard the right.' "'To be crammed, sir,' repeated Mr. Greggsbury. "'May I beg your pardon again if I inquire what it means, sir,' said Nicholas. "'My meaning, sir, is perfectly plain,' replied Mr. Greggsbury, with a solemn aspect. "'My secretary would have to make himself master of the foreign policy of the world, as it is mirrored in the newspapers. "'To run his eye over all accounts of public meetings, all leading articles and accounts of the proceedings of public bodies, and to make notes of anything which had appeared to him, might be made a point of in any little speech upon the question of some petition laying on the table, or anything of that kind. "'Do you understand?' "'I think I do, sir,' replied Nicholas. "'Then,' said Mr. Greggsbury, "'it would be necessary for him to make himself acquainted from day to day with newspaper paragraphs on passing events such as mysterious disappearance and supposed suicide of a pot-boy, or anything of that sort, upon which I might found a question to the Secretary of State for the Home Department. Then he would have to copy the question, and as much as I remembered of the answer, including a little compliment about independence and good sense, and to send the manuscript in a frank to the local paper, with perhaps half a dozen lines of leader to the effect that I was always to be found in my place in Parliament, and never shrunk from the responsible and arduous duties and so forth. You see?' And Nicholas bowed. "'Besides which,' continued Mr. Greggsbury, "'I should expect him now and then to go through a few figures in the printed tables, and to pick out a few results, so that I might come out pretty well on timber-duty questions and finance questions and so on. And I should like him to get up a few little arguments about the disastrous effects of a return to cash payments and the metallic currency, with a touch now and then about the exportation of bullion and the emperor of Russia, and banknotes and all that kind of thing, which it's only necessary to talk fluently about because nobody understands it. "'Do you take me?' "'I think I understand,' said Nicholas. "'With regard to such questions as are not political,' continued Mr. Greggsbury, warming, and which one can't be expected to care a curse about, beyond the natural care of not allowing inferior people to be as well off as ourselves, elsewhere are our privileges, I should wish my secretary to get together a few little flourishing speeches of a patriotic caste. For instance, if any preposterous bill were brought forward for giving poor, grubbing devils of authors a right to their own property, I should like to say that I, for one, would never consent to opposing an insurmountable bar to the diffusion of literature among the people. You understand? That the creations of the pocket, being man's, might belong to one man or one family, but that the creations of the brain, being God's, ought as a matter, of course, to belong to the people at large. And if I was pleasantly disposed, I should like to make a joke about posterity, and say that those who wrote for posterity should be content to be rewarded by the approbation of posterity. It might take with the house and could never do me any harm, because posterity can't be expected to know anything about me or my jokes, either. Do you see?' I see that, sir,' replied Nicholas. "'You must always bear in mind, in such cases as this, where our interests are not affected,' said Mr. Gregsbury, "'to put it very strong about the people, because it comes out very well at election time, and you could be as funny as you liked about the authors, because I believe the greater part of them live in lodgings and are not voters. This is a hasty outline of the chief things you'd have to do, except waiting in the lobby every night, in case I forgot anything, and should want fresh cramming. And now and then, during great debates, sitting in the front row of the gallery, and saying to the people about, you see that gentleman with his hand to his face, and his arm twisted round the pillar, that's Mr. Gregsbury, the celebrated Mr. Gregsbury, with any other little eulogium that might strike you at the moment. And for salary,' said Mr. Gregsbury, winding up with great rapidity, for he was out of breath, and for salary I don't mind saying at once in round numbers to prevent any dissatisfaction, though it's more than I'd been accustomed to give, fifteen shillings a week, and find yourself there. With this handsome offer, Mr. Gregsbury once more threw himself back in his chair, and looked like a man who had been most profligately liberal, but is determined not to repent of it, notwithstanding. Fifteen shillings a week is not much, said Nicholas Markley. Not much? Fifteen shillings a week not much, young man, cried Mr. Gregsbury. Fifteen shillings—'Pray, do not suppose that I quarrel with the some,' sir,' replied Nicholas, for I am not ashamed to confess that whatever it may be in itself, to me it is a great deal. However the duties and responsibilities make the recompense small, and they are so very heavy that I fear to undertake them. "'Do you decline to undertake them, sir?' inquired Mr. Gregsbury, with his hand on the bell-rope. I fear they are too great for my powers. However good my will may be,' sir,' replied Nicholas. "'That is as much as to say that you would rather not accept the place, and that you consider fifteen shillings a week too little,' said Mr. Gregsbury, ringing. "'Do you decline it, sir?' "'I have no alternative but to do so,' replied Nicholas. "'Do, Matthews,' said Mr. Gregsbury, as the boy appeared, "'I am sorry I have troubled you unnecessarily, sir,' said Nicholas. "'I am sorry you have,' rejoined Mr. Gregsbury, turning his back upon him. "'Do, Matthews!' "'Good morning, sir,' said Nicholas. "'Do, Matthews,' cried Mr. Gregsbury. The boy beckoned Nicholas, and tumbling lazily downstairs before him, opened the door, and ushered him into the street. With a sad and pensive air, he had retraced his steps homewards. Smyke had scraped a meal together from the remnant of last night's supper, and was anxiously awaiting his return. The occurrences of the morning had not improved Nicholas's appetite, and by him the dinner had remained untasted. He was sitting in a thoughtful attitude, with the plate which the poor fellow had assiduously filled with the choicest morsels, untouched by his side, when Newman-Nogs looked into the room. "'Come back,' asked Newman. "'Yes,' replied Nicholas, tired to death, and what's worse might have remained at home for all the good I've done.' "'Couldn't expect to do much in one morning,' said Newman. "'Maybe so, but I am sanguine and did expect,' said Nicholas, and unproportionately disappointed. During which he gave Newman an account of his proceedings. "'If I could do anything,' said Nicholas, anything, however slight, until Ralph Nicolby returns, and I've eased my mind by confronting him, I should feel happier. I should think it no disgrace to work, heaven knows. Lying indolently here like a half-tamed sullen beast distracts me. "'I don't know,' said Newman. Small things offer. They would pay the rent and more, but you wouldn't like them. "'No. You could hardly be expected to undergo it.' "'No. No.' "'What could I hardly be expected to undergo?' asked Nicholas, raising his eyes. "'Show me in this wide waste of London any honest means by which I could even defray the weakly hire of this poor room, and see if I shrink from resorting to them.' "'Undergo. I have undergone too much, my friend, to feel pride or squeamishness now, except,' added Nicholas hastily after a short silence, "'except such squeamishness as his common honesty, and so much pride as constitutes self-respect. I see little to choose between assistant to a brutal pedagogue, and toad eater to a mean and ignorant upstart, be he member or no member. "'I hardly know whether I should tell you what I heard this morning or not,' said Newman. "'Has it reference to what you said just now?' asked Nicholas. "'It has.' "'Then in heaven's name my good friend tell it me,' said Nicholas, "'for God's sake consider my deplorable condition, and while I promise to take no step without taking counsel with you, give me at least a vote in my own behalf.' Moved by this entreaty, Newman stammered forth a variety of most unaccountable and entangled sentences. The upshot of which was that Mrs. Kenwigs had examined him at great length that morning, touching the origin of his acquaintance with, and the whole life adventures and pedigree of, Nicholas. That Newman had parried these questions as long as he could, but being at length hard-pressed and driven into a corner, had gone so far as to admit that Nicholas was a tutor of great accomplishments, involved in some misfortunes which he was not at liberty to explain, and bearing the name of Johnson. The Mrs. Kenwigs, impelled by gratitude or ambition or maternal pride or maternal love, or all four powerful motives conjointly, had taken secret conference with Mr. Kenwigs, and had finally returned to propose that Mr. Johnson should instruct the four Miss Kenwigsers in the French language as spoken by natives, at the weekly stipend of five shillings, current coin of the realm, being at the rate of one shilling per week, per each Miss Kenwigs, and one shilling over, until such time as the baby might be able to take it out in grammar. Which, unless I am very much mistaken, observed Mrs. Kenwigs in making the proposition, will not be very long, for such clever children Mr. Nogs never were born into this world, I do believe. There, said Newman, that's all. It's beneath you, I know, but I thought that perhaps you might might, cried Nicholas, with great alacrity. Of course I shall. I accept the offer at once. Tell the worthy mother so without delay, my dear fellow, and that I am ready to begin whenever she pleases. Newman hastened, with joyful steps, to inform Mrs. Kenwigs of his friend's acquiescence, and soon returning, brought back word that they would be happy to see him in the first floor as soon as convenient, that Mrs. Kenwigs had, upon the instant, sent out to secure a second-hand French grammar and dialogues, which had long been fluttering in the six-penny-box at the bookstore around the corner, and that the family, highly excited at the prospect of this addition to their gentility, wished the initiatory lesson to come off immediately. And here it may be observed that Nicholas was not in the ordinary sense of the word, a man of high spirit. He would resent an affront to himself, or interpose to redress a wrong offered to another, as boldly and freely as any night that ever set lance in rest. But he liked that peculiar excess of coolness and great-minded selfishness, which invariably distinguished gentlemen of high spirit. In truth, for our own part, we are disposed to look upon such gentlemen as being rather incumbrances than otherwise in rising families, happening to be acquainted with several who spirit prevents their settling down to any groveling occupation, and only displays itself in a tendency to cultivate mustachios and look fierce. And although mustachios and ferocity are both very pretty things in their way, and very much to be commended, we confess to a desire to see them bred at the owner's proper cost, rather than at the expense of low-spirited people. Thus therefore, not being a high-spirited young man according to common parlance, and deeming it a greater degradation to borrow for the supply of his necessities from newmen-nogs, than to teach French to the little Kenwigsers for five shillings a week, accepted the offer with the alacrity already described, and betook himself to the first floor with all convenient speed. Here he was received by Mrs. Kenwigs with a genteel air, kindly intended to assure him of her protection and support. And here, too, he found Mr. Lilivick and Mrs. Patauca, the four Miss Kenwigsers on their form of audience, and the baby in a dwarf porter's chair with a deal tray before it, amusing himself with a toy horse without a head. The said horse being composed of a small wooden cylinder, not unlike an Italian iron, supported on four crooked pegs, and painted in ingenious resemblance of red wafers set in blacking. �How do you do, Mr. Johnson?� said Mrs. Kenwigs. �Uncle, Mr. Johnson.� �How do you do, sir?� said Mr. Lilivick, rather sharply, for he had not known what Nicholas was on the previous night, and it was rather an aggravating circumstance if a tax-collector had been too polite to a teacher. �Mr. Johnson is engaged as private master to the children, Uncle� said Mrs. Kenwigs. �So you said just now, my dear� replied Mr. Lilivick. �But I hope� said Mrs. Kenwigs, drawing herself up, �that that will not make them proud, but that they will bless their own good fortune, which has borne them superior to common people's children. �Do you hear, Maulina? �Yes, ma� replied Mrs. Kenwigs. �And when you go out in the streets or elsewhere, I desire that you don't boast of it to the other children� said Mrs. Kenwigs, �and that if you must say anything about it, you don't say no more than �We�ve got a private master comes to teachers at home, but we ain�t proud because Ma says it�s sinful. �Do you hear, Maulina? �Yes, ma� replied Mrs. Kenwigs again. �Then mind you recollect, and do as I tell you� said Mrs. Kenwigs. �Shall Mr. Johnson begin, Uncle? �I am ready to hear if Mr. Johnson is ready to commence, my dear� said the collector, assuming the air of a profound critic. �What sort of language do you consider French, sir? �How do you mean?� asked Nicholas. �Do you consider it a good language, sir?� said the collector. �A pretty language?� �A sensible language?� �A pretty language, certainly� replied Nicholas. �And as it has a name for everything, and admits of elegant conversation about everything, I presume it�s a sensible one.� �I don�t know� said Mr. Lilivick doubtfully. �Do you call it a cheerful language, now?� �Yes� said Nicholas. �I should say it was, certainly. It�s very much changed since my time, then� said the collector. �Very much. Was it a dismal one in your time?� asked Nicholas, scarcely able to repress a smile. �Very� replied Mr. Lilivick with some vehemence of manner. �It�s the wartime that I speak of. The last war. �It may be a cheerful language. I should be sorry to contradict anybody, but I can only say that I�ve heard the French prisoners, who were natives, and ought to know how to speak it, talking in such a dismal manner, that it made one miserable to hear them. �Aye, that I have fifty times, sir, fifty times.� Mr. Lilivick was waxing so cross that Mrs. Kenwigs thought it expedient to motion to Nicholas, not to say anything. And it was not until Miss Patauca had practised several blandishments to soften the excellent old gentleman that he deigned to break silence by asking, �What�s the water in French, sir?� �Low� replied Nicholas. �Ah,� said Mr. Lilivick, shaking his head mournfully. �I thought as much. �Low, eh?� �I don�t think anything of that language. Nothing at all.� �I suppose the children may begin, uncle� said Mrs. Kenwigs. �Oh, yes, they may begin, my dear� replied the collector discontentedly. �I have no wish to prevent them.� This permission being conceded, the four Miss Kenwigs�s sat in a row, with their tails all one way, a more leaner at the top, while Nicholas, taking the book, began his preliminary explanations. Miss Patauca and Mrs. Kenwigs looked on in silent admiration, broken only by the whispered assurances of the latter, that more leaner would have it all by heart in no time. And Mr. Lilivick regarded the group with frowning and attentive eyes, lying in wait for something upon which he could open a fresh discussion on the language. End of CHAPTER XVI. This is a LibriVox recording. All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer, please visit LibriVox.org. Recording by Czechrisse, London, UK. Nicholas Nickleby. By Charles Dickens. CHAPTER XVII. Follows the fortunes of Miss Nickleby. It was with a heavy heart, and many sad forebodings which no effort could banish, that Kate Nickleby, on the morning appointed for the commencement of her engagement with Madame Mantellini, left the city when its clocks yet wanted a quarter of an hour of eight, and threaded her way alone, amid the noise and bustle of the streets, towards the west end of London. At this early hour, many sickly girls, whose business like that of the poor worm, is to produce with patient toil the finery that bedecks the thoughtless and luxurious, traverse our streets making towards the scene of their daily labour, and catching, as if by stealth, in their hurried walk, the only gasp of wholesome air and glimpse of sunlight which cheer their monotonous existence during the long train of hours that makes a working day. As she drew nigh to the more fashionable quarter of the town, Kate marked many of this class as they passed by, hurrying like herself to their painful occupation, and saw in their unhealthy looks and feeble gait, but too clear an evidence that her misgivings were not wholly groundless. She arrived at Madame Mantellini's some minutes before the appointed hour, and after walking a few times up and down, in the hope that some other female might arrive, and spare her the embarrassment of stating her business to the servant, knocked timidly at the door, which, after some delay, was opened by the footman, who had been putting on his striped jacket as he came upstairs, and was now intent on fastening his apron. Is Madame Mantellini in? Faulted Kate. Not often out at this time, Miss, replied the man in a tone which rendered Miss something more offensive than my dear. Can I see her? asked Kate. Eh? replied the man, holding the door in his hand, and honouring the inquirer with a stare and a broad grin. Lord, no! I came by her own appointment, said Kate. I am—I am—to be employed here. Oh! you should have wrung the worker's bell, said the footman, touching the handle of one in the door-post. Let me see, though. I forgot. Miss Nicolby, is it? Yes, replied Kate. You are to walk upstairs, then, please, said the man. Madame Mantellini wants to see you. This way, take care of these things on the floor. Cautioning her, in these terms, not to trip over a heterogeneous litter of pastry-cook's trays, lamps, waiters full of glasses, and piles of routed seats which were strewn about the hall, plainly bespeaking a late party on the previous night, the man led the way to the second story, and ushered Kate into a back room, communicating by folding doors with the apartment in which she had first seen the mistress of the establishment. If you'll wait here a minute, said the man, I'll tell her presently. Having made this promise with much affability, he retired and left Kate alone. There was not much to amuse in the room, of which the most attractive feature was a half-length portrait in oil of Mr. Mantellini, whom the artist had depicted scratching his head in an easy manner, and thus displaying to advantage a diamond ring, the gift of Madame Mantellini before her marriage. There was, however, the sound of voices in conversation in the next room, and as the conversation was loud and the partition thin, Kate could not help discovering that they belonged to Mr. and Mrs. Mantellini. If you will be odiously, demnably, out-righteously jealous, my soul, said Mr. Mantellini, you will be very miserable. Horrid miserable! Demnation miserable! And then there was a sound as though Mr. Mantellini were sipping his coffee. I am miserable! returned Madame Mantellini, evidently pouting. Then you are an ungrateful, unworthy, damned, unthankful little fairy, said Mr. Mantellini. I am not, returned Madame, with a sob. Do not put itself out of humour, said Mr. Mantellini, breaking an egg. It's a pretty bewitching little demned countenance, and it should not be out of humour, for it spoils its loveliness, and makes it cross and gloomy, like a frightful, naughty, demmed hobgoblin. I am not to be brought round in that way, always, rejoined Madame solkily. It shall be brought round in any way it likes best, and not brought round at all, if it likes that better. He thought of Mr. Mantellini with his egg-spoon in his mouth. It's very easy to talk, said Mrs. Mantellini, not so easy when one is eating a damnation egg, replied Mr. Mantellini, for the yoke runs down the waist-cut, and yoke of egg doesn't match any waist-cut but a yellow waist-cut, dimmit. You were flirting with her during the whole night, said Madame Mantellini, apparently desirous to lead the conversation back to the point from which it had strayed. Oh, no, my life, you were, said Madame, I had my eye upon you all the time. Bless the little winking, twinkling eye! Was it on me all the time?" cried Mantellini, in a sort of lazy rapture. Oh, dimmit! And I say once more, resumed Madame, that you ought not to waltz with anybody but your own wife, and I will not bear it, Mantellini, if I take poison first. She will not take poison and have horrid pains, will she, said Mantellini, who by the altered sound of his voice seemed to have moved his chair, and taken up his position nearer to his wife. She will not take poison, because she has a dimmed fine husband who might have married two countesses and a dowager. Two countesses, interposed Madame, you told me one before. Two, cried Mantellini, two dimmed fine women, real countesses and splendid fortunes, dimmit. And why didn't you?" asked Madame playfully. Why didn't I, replied her husband, had I not seen at a morning concert the demnest little fascinator in all the world, and while that little fascinator is my wife, may not all the countesses and dowagers in England be— Mr. Mantellini did not finish the sentence. But he gave Madame Mantellini a very loud kiss. Which Madame Mantellini returned? After which there seemed to be some more kissing, mixed up with the progress of the breakfast. And what about the cash, my Existence's Jewel, said Mantellini, when these endearments ceased? How much have we in hand? Very little indeed, replied Madame. We must have some more, said Mantellini. We must have some discount out of old Niccolby to carry on the war with, dimmit. You can't want any more just now, said Madame coaxingly. My life and soul, returned her husband, there's a horse for sale that scrubs us, which it would be a sin and a crime to lose, going my senses joy for nothing. For nothing, cried Madame, I'm glad of that. For actually nothing, replied Mantellini, a hundred guineas down will buy him, mane and crest and legs and tail, all of the dem-disputy. I will ride him in the park before the very chariots of the rejected countesses. The dem-dole dowager will faint with grief and rage. The other two will say, he's married, he's made away with himself, it's a dem-d thing, it's all up, and they will hate each other demnably, and wish you dead and buried, ha-ha-ha, dimmit. Madame Mantellini's prudence, if she had any, was not proof against these triumphal pictures. After a little jingling of keys, she observed that she would see what her desk contained, and rising for that purpose, opened the folding door, and walked into the room where Kate was seated. "'Dimmit, child!' exclaimed Madame Mantellini, recoiling in surprise. "'How came you here?' "'Child!' cried Mantellini, hurrying in. "'How came—' "'Oh, demmit, how do you do?' "'I've been waiting here some time, ma'am,' said Kate, addressing Madame Mantellini. "'The servant must have forgotten to let you know that I was here, I think.' "'You really must see to that man,' said Madame, turning to her husband. He forgets everything. "'I will twist his demn nose off his countenance for leaving such a very pretty creature all alone by herself,' said her husband. "'Mantellini,' cried Madame, you forget yourself. "'I don't forget you, my soul, and never shall, and never can,' said Mantellini, kissing his wife's hand and grimacing aside to Miss Nicolby, who turned away. Appeased by this compliment, the lady of the business took some papers from her desk which she handed over to Mr. Mantellini, who received them with great delight. She then requested Kate to follow her, and after several feints on the part of Mr. Mantellini to attract the young lady's attention, they went away, leaving that gentleman extended at full length on the sofa, with his heels in the air and a newspaper in his hand. Madame Mantellini led the way down a flight of stairs and threw a passage to a large room at the back of the premises, where were a number of young women employed in sewing, cutting out, making up, altering, and various other processors known only to those who were cunning in the arts of millinery and dressmaking. It was a close room with a skylight, and as dull and quiet as a room need be. On Madame Mantellini calling aloud from Miss Nag, a short, bustling, overdressed female full of importance presented herself, and all the young ladies suspending their operations for the moment, whispered to each other sundry criticisms upon the make and texture of Miss Nicolby's dress, her complexion, cast of features and personal appearance, with as much good breeding as could have been displayed by the very best society in a crowded ballroom. Oh, Miss Nag, said Madame Mantellini, this is the young person I spoke to you about. Miss Nag bestowed a reverential smile upon Madame Mantellini, which she dexterously transformed into a gracious one for Kate, and said that certainly, although it was a great deal of trouble to have young people who were wholly unused to the business, still she was sure the young person would try to do her best, impressed with which conviction she, Miss Nag, felt an interest in her already. I think that for the present at all events, it will be better for Miss Nicolby to come into the showroom with you and try things on for people, said Madame Mantellini. She will not be able for the present to be of much use in any other way, and her appearance will suit very well with mine, Madame Mantellini, interrupted Miss Nag. So it will, and to be sure I might have known that you would not belong in finding that out, for you have so much taste in all those matters, that really, as I often say to the young ladies, I do not know how, when, or where you possibly could have acquired all you know. Miss Nicolby and I are quite a pair, Madame Mantellini, only I am a little darker than Miss Nicolby, and I think my foot may be a little smaller. Miss Nicolby, I am sure, will not be offended at my saying that, when she hears that our family has always been celebrated for small feet, ever since our family had any feet at all, indeed, I think. I had an uncle once, Madame Mantellini, who lived in Cheltenham, and had the most excellent business as a tobacconist, who had such small feet that they were no bigger than those which are usually joined to wooden legs. The most symmetrical feet, Madame Mantellini, that even you can imagine. They must have had something of the appearance of club feet, Miss Nag, said Madame. Well, now, that is so like you, return, Miss Nag, ha-ha-ha, of club feet. Oh, very good! As I often remark to the young ladies, well, I must say, and I do not care who knows it, of all the ready humour, I've ever heard anywhere, and I've heard a good deal, for when my dear brother was alive I kept house for him, Miss Nicolby. We had to supper once a week, two or three young men, highly celebrated in those days for their humour, Madame Mantellini. Of all the ready humour, I said to the young ladies, I ever heard, Madame Mantellini's is the most remarkable, it's so gentle, so sarcastic, and yet so good-natured, as I was observing to Miss Simmons only this morning, that how or when, or by what means she acquired it, is to me a mystery indeed. Here Miss Nag paused to take breath, and while she pauses it may be observed not that she was marvellously loquacious and marvellously deferential to Madame Mantellini, since these are facts which require no comment, but that every now and then she was accustomed in the torrent of her discourse to introduce a loud shrill, clear, hem, the import and meaning of which was variously interpreted by her acquaintance. Some holding that Miss Nag dealt in exaggeration, and introduced the monosyllable when any fresh invention was in the course of coinage in her brain, others that when she wanted a word she threw it in to gain time, and prevent anybody else from striking into the conversation. It may be further remarked that Miss Nag still aimed at youth, although she had shot beyond it years ago, and that she was weak and vain, and one of those people who are best described by the axiom that you may trust them as far as you can see them, and no farther. You will take care that Miss Nicolby understands her hours and so forth, said Madame Mantellini, and so I leave her with you. You will not forget my directions, Miss Nag." Miss Nag, of course, replied that to forget anything Madame Mantellini had directed, was a moral impossibility, and that lady dispensing a general good-morning among her assistants sailed away. Charming creature, isn't she, Miss Nicolby? said Miss Nag, rubbing her hands together. I have seen very little of her, said Kate, I hardly know yet. Have you seen Mr. Mantellini? inquired Miss Nag. Yes, I have seen him twice. Isn't he a charming creature? Indeed, he does not strike me as being so by any means, replied Kate. No, my dear, cried Miss Nag, elevating her hands. Why, goodness gracious mercy, where's your taste? Such a fine, tall, full-whisker dashing gentlemanly man, with such teeth and hair, and—well, now you do astonish me. I daresay I am very foolish, replied Kate, laying aside her bonnet. But as my opinion is of very little importance to him or anyone else, I do not regret having formed it, and shall be slow to change it, I think. He's a very fine man, don't you think so? asked one of the young ladies. Indeed he may be, for anything I could say to the contrary, replied Kate. And drives very beautiful horses, doesn't he? inquired another. I daresay he may, but I never saw them, answered Kate. Never saw them, interposed Miss Nag. Oh, well, there it is at once, you know. How can you possibly pronounce an opinion about a gentleman, if you don't see him as he turns out altogether? There was so much of the world, even of the little world of the country girl, in this idea of the old milliner, that Kate, who was anxious for every reason to change the subject, made no further remark, and left Miss Nag in possession of the field. After a short silence, during which most of the young people made a closer inspection of Kate's appearance, and compared notes respecting it, one of them offered to help her off with her shawl, and the offer being accepted, inquired whether she did not find black very uncomfortable wear. I do indeed, replied Kate, with a bitter sigh. So dusty and hot, observed the same speaker, adjusting her dress for her. Kate might have said that mourning is sometimes the coldest wear which mortals can assume, that it not only chills the breasts of those it clothes, but extending its influence to summer friends, freezes up their sources of good will and kindness, and withering all the buds of promise that once so liberally put forth, leaves nothing but bed and rotten hearts exposed. There are few who have lost a friend or relative constituting in life their sole dependence, who have not keenly felt this chilling influence of their sable garb. She had felt it acutely, and feeling it at the moment could not quite restrain her tears. I'm very sorry to have wounded you by my thoughtless speech, said her companion. I did not think of it. You are in mourning for some near-relation? For my father, answered Kate. For what relation, Miss Simmons? asked Miss Nag in an audible voice. Her father replied the other softly. Her father, eh? said Miss Nag, without the slightest depression of her voice. Er, a long illness, Miss Simmons? Push, replied the girl, I don't know. Our misfortune was very sudden, said Kate, turning away, or I might perhaps at a time like this be enabled to support it better. There had existed not a little desire in the room, according to invariable custom, when any new young person came, to know who Kate was, and what she was, and all about her. But although it might have been very naturally increased by her appearance and emotion, the knowledge that it pained her to be questioned was sufficient to repress even this curiosity, and Miss Nag finding it hopeless to attempt extracting any further particulars just then, reluctantly commanded silence and bad the work proceed. In silence then the tasks were plied until half past one, when a baked leg of mutton with potatoes to correspond was served in the kitchen. The meal over, and the young ladies having enjoyed the additional relaxation of washing their hands, the work began again, and was again performed in silence, until the noise of carriages rattling through the streets, and of loud double knocks at doors, gave token that the day's work of the more fortunate members of society was proceeding in its turn. One of these double knocks at Madam Mantellini's door announced the equippage of some great lady, or rather rich one, for there is occasionally a distinction between riches and greatness, who had come with her daughter to approve of some court-dressers, which had been a long time preparing, and upon whom Kate was deputed to wait, accompanied by Miss Nag, and officered of course by Madam Mantellini. Kate's part in the pageant was humble enough, her duties being limited to holding articles of costume until Miss Nag was ready to try them on, and now and then tying a string, or fastening a hook and eye. She might, not unreasonably, have supposed herself beneath the reach of any arrogance or bad humour. But it happened that the lady and daughter were both out of temper that day, and the poor girl came in for her share of their revilings. She was awkward. Her hands were cold, dirty, coarse. She could do nothing right. They wondered how Madam Mantellini could have such people about her, requested that they might see some other young woman the next time they came, and so forth. So common an occurrence would be hardly deserving of mention, but for its effect. Kate shed many bitter tears when these people were gone, and felt for the first time humbled by her occupation. She had, it is true, quailed at the prospect of drudgery and hard service, but she had felt no degradation in working for her bread, until she found herself exposed to insolence and pride. Philosophy would have taught her that the degradation was on the side of those who had sunk so low as to display such passions habitually and without cause. But she was too young for such consolation, and her honest feeling was hurt. May not the complaint that common people are above their station, can take its rise in the fact of uncommon people being below theirs. In such scenes and occupations the time wore on, until nine o'clock, when Kate jaded and dispirited with the occurrences of the day, hastened from the confinement of the work-room, to join her mother at the street-corner, and walk home, the more sadly, from having to disguise her real feelings, and feign to participate in all the sanguine visions of her companion. "'Bless my soul, Kate,' said Mrs. Nicolby, I've been thinking all day what a delightful thing it would be for Madame Mantellini to take you into partnership. Such a likely thing, too, you know, why your poor dear papa's cousin's sister-in-law, a Miss Brown Dock, was taken into partnership by a lady that kept her school at Hammersmith, and made her fortune in no time at all. I forget, by the by, whether that Miss Brown Dock was the same lady that got the £10,000 prize in the lottery, but I think she was. Indeed, now I come to think of it, I'm sure she was. Mantellini and Nicolby! How well it would sound! And if Nicolus has any good fortune you might have docked a Nicolby the headmaster of Westminster school, living in the same street. "'Dear Nicolus,' cried Kate, taking from her reticule her brother's letter from Doother Boy's Hall, "'In all our misfortunes, how happy it makes me, mamma, to hear he is doing well, and to find him writing in such good spirits. It consoles me, for all we may undergo, to think that he is comfortable and happy.'" Poor Kate! She little thought how weak her consolation was, and how soon she would be undeceived.