Chapter 47

by Charles Dickens

　　Mr Ralph Nickleby has some confidential Intercourse with another oldFriend. They concert between them a Project, which promises wellfor both'There go the three-quarters past!' muttered Newman Noggs, listeningto the chimes of some neighbouring church 'and my dinner time's two.He does it on purpose. He makes a point of it. It's just likehim.'It was in his own little den of an office and on the top of hisofficial stool that Newman thus soliloquised; and the soliloquyreferred, as Newman's grumbling soliloquies usually did, to RalphNickleby.'I don't believe he ever had an appetite,' said Newman, 'except forpounds, shillings, and pence, and with them he's as greedy as awolf. I should like to have him compelled to swallow one of everyEnglish coin. The penny would be an awkward morsel--but the crown--ha! ha!'His good-humour being in some degree restored by the vision of RalphNickleby swallowing, perforce, a five-shilling piece, Newman slowlybrought forth from his desk one of those portable bottles, currentlyknown as pocket-pistols, and shaking the same close to his ear so asto produce a rippling sound very cool and pleasant to listen to,suffered his features to relax, and took a gurgling drink, whichrelaxed them still more. Replacing the cork, he smacked his lipstwice or thrice with an air of great relish, and, the taste of theliquor having by this time evaporated, recurred to his grievanceagain.'Five minutes to three,' growled Newman; 'it can't want more by thistime; and I had my breakfast at eight o'clock, and such a breakfast!and my right dinner-time two! And I might have a nice little bit ofhot roast meat spoiling at home all this time--how does he know Ihaven't? "Don't go till I come back," "Don't go till I come back,"day after day. What do you always go out at my dinner-time forthen--eh? Don't you know it's nothing but aggravation--eh?'These words, though uttered in a very loud key, were addressed tonothing but empty air. The recital of his wrongs, however, seemedto have the effect of making Newman Noggs desperate; for heflattened his old hat upon his head, and drawing on the everlastinggloves, declared with great vehemence, that come what might, hewould go to dinner that very minute.Carrying this resolution into instant effect, he had advanced as faras the passage, when the sound of the latch-key in the street doorcaused him to make a precipitate retreat into his own office again.'Here he is,' growled Newman, 'and somebody with him. Now it'll be"Stop till this gentleman's gone." But I won't. That's flat.'So saying, Newman slipped into a tall empty closet which opened withtwo half doors, and shut himself up; intending to slip out directlyRalph was safe inside his own room.'Noggs!' cried Ralph, 'where is that fellow, Noggs?'But not a word said Newman.'The dog has gone to his dinner, though I told him not,' mutteredRalph, looking into the office, and pulling out his watch. 'Humph!'You had better come in here, Gride. My man's out, and the sun ishot upon my room. This is cool and in the shade, if you don't mindroughing it.''Not at all, Mr Nickleby, oh not at all! All places are alike tome, sir. Ah! very nice indeed. Oh! very nice!'The parson who made this reply was a little old man, of aboutseventy or seventy-five years of age, of a very lean figure, muchbent and slightly twisted. He wore a grey coat with a very narrowcollar, an old-fashioned waistcoat of ribbed black silk, and suchscanty trousers as displayed his shrunken spindle-shanks in theirfull ugliness. The only articles of display or ornament in hisdress were a steel watch-chain to which were attached some largegold seals; and a black ribbon into which, in compliance with an oldfashion scarcely ever observed in these days, his grey hair wasgathered behind. His nose and chin were sharp and prominent, hisjaws had fallen inwards from loss of teeth, his face was shrivelledand yellow, save where the cheeks were streaked with the colour of adry winter apple; and where his beard had been, there lingered yet afew grey tufts which seemed, like the ragged eyebrows, to denote thebadness of the soil from which they sprung. The whole air andattitude of the form was one of stealthy cat-like obsequiousness;the whole expression of the face was concentrated in a wrinkledleer, compounded of cunning, lecherousness, slyness, and avarice.Such was old Arthur Gride, in whose face there was not a wrinkle, inwhose dress there was not one spare fold or plait, but expressed themost covetous and griping penury, and sufficiently indicated hisbelonging to that class of which Ralph Nickleby was a member. Suchwas old Arthur Gride, as he sat in a low chair looking up into theface of Ralph Nickleby, who, lounging upon the tall office stool,with his arms upon his knees, looked down into his; a match for himon whatever errand he had come.'And how have you been?' said Gride, feigning great interest inRalph's state of health. 'I haven't seen you for--oh! not for--''Not for a long time,' said Ralph, with a peculiar smile, importingthat he very well knew it was not on a mere visit of compliment thathis friend had come. 'It was a narrow chance that you saw me now,for I had only just come up to the door as you turned the corner.''I am very lucky,' observed Gride.'So men say,' replied Ralph, drily.The older money-lender wagged his chin and smiled, but he originatedno new remark, and they sat for some little time without speaking.Each was looking out to take the other at a disadvantage.'Come, Gride,' said Ralph, at length; 'what's in the wind today?''Aha! you're a bold man, Mr Nickleby,' cried the other, apparentlyvery much relieved by Ralph's leading the way to business. 'Ohdear, dear, what a bold man you are!''Why, you have a sleek and slinking way with you that makes me seemso by contrast,' returned Ralph. 'I don't know but that yours mayanswer better, but I want the patience for it.''You were born a genius, Mr Nickleby,' said old Arthur. 'Deep,deep, deep. Ah!''Deep enough,' retorted Ralph, 'to know that I shall need all thedepth I have, when men like you begin to compliment. You know Ihave stood by when you fawned and flattered other people, and Iremember pretty well what that always led to.''Ha, ha, ha!' rejoined Arthur, rubbing his hands. 'So you do, soyou do, no doubt. Not a man knows it better. Well, it's a pleasantthing now to think that you remember old times. Oh dear!''Now then,' said Ralph, composedly; 'what's in the wind, I askagain? What is it?''See that now!' cried the other. 'He can't even keep from businesswhile we're chatting over bygones. Oh dear, dear, what a man itis!''Which of the bygones do you want to revive?' said Ralph. 'One ofthem, I know, or you wouldn't talk about them.''He suspects even me!' cried old Arthur, holding up his hands.'Even me! Oh dear, even me. What a man it is! Ha, ha, ha! What aman it is! Mr Nickleby against all the world. There's nobody likehim. A giant among pigmies, a giant, a giant!'Ralph looked at the old dog with a quiet smile as he chuckled on inthis strain, and Newman Noggs in the closet felt his heart sinkwithin him as the prospect of dinner grew fainter and fainter.'I must humour him though,' cried old Arthur; 'he must have his way--a wilful man, as the Scotch say--well, well, they're a wise people,the Scotch. He will talk about business, and won't give away histime for nothing. He's very right. Time is money, time is money.''He was one of us who made that saying, I should think,' said Ralph.'Time is money, and very good money too, to those who reckoninterest by it. Time is money! Yes, and time costs money; it'srather an expensive article to some people we could name, or Iforget my trade.'In rejoinder to this sally, old Arthur again raised his hands, againchuckled, and again ejaculated 'What a man it is!' which done, hedragged the low chair a little nearer to Ralph's high stool, andlooking upwards into his immovable face, said,'What would you say to me, if I was to tell you that I was--that Iwas--going to be married?''I should tell you,' replied Ralph, looking coldly down upon him,'that for some purpose of your own you told a lie, and that itwasn't the first time and wouldn't be the last; that I wasn'tsurprised and wasn't to be taken in.''Then I tell you seriously that I am,' said old Arthur.'And I tell you seriously,' rejoined Ralph, 'what I told you thisminute. Stay. Let me look at you. There's a liquorish devilry inyour face. What is this?''I wouldn't deceive you, you know,' whined Arthur Gride; 'I couldn'tdo it, I should be mad to try. I, I, to deceive Mr Nickleby! Thepigmy to impose upon the giant. I ask again--he, he, he!--whatshould you say to me if I was to tell you that I was going to bemarried?''To some old hag?' said Ralph.'No, No,' cried Arthur, interrupting him, and rubbing his hands inan ecstasy. 'Wrong, wrong again. Mr Nickleby for once at fault;out, quite out! To a young and beautiful girl; fresh, lovely,bewitching, and not nineteen. Dark eyes, long eyelashes, ripe andruddy lips that to look at is to long to kiss, beautiful clusteringhair that one's fingers itch to play with, such a waist as mightmake a man clasp the air involuntarily, thinking of twining his armabout it, little feet that tread so lightly they hardly seem to walkupon the ground--to marry all this, sir, this--hey, hey!''This is something more than common drivelling,' said Ralph, afterlistening with a curled lip to the old sinner's raptures. 'Thegirl's name?''Oh deep, deep! See now how deep that is!' exclaimed old Arthur.'He knows I want his help, he knows he can give it me, he knows itmust all turn to his advantage, he sees the thing already. Hername--is there nobody within hearing?''Why, who the devil should there be?' retorted Ralph, testily.'I didn't know but that perhaps somebody might be passing up or downthe stairs,' said Arthur Gride, after looking out at the door andcarefully reclosing it; 'or but that your man might have come backand might have been listening outside. Clerks and servants have atrick of listening, and I should have been very uncomfortable if MrNoggs--''Curse Mr Noggs,' said Ralph, sharply, 'and go on with what you haveto say.''Curse Mr Noggs, by all means,' rejoined old Arthur; 'I am sure Ihave not the least objection to that. Her name is--''Well,' said Ralph, rendered very irritable by old Arthur's pausingagain 'what is it?''Madeline Bray.'Whatever reasons there might have been--and Arthur Gride appeared tohave anticipated some--for the mention of this name producing aneffect upon Ralph, or whatever effect it really did produce uponhim, he permitted none to manifest itself, but calmly repeated thename several times, as if reflecting when and where he had heard itbefore.'Bray,' said Ralph. 'Bray--there was young Bray of--,no, he neverhad a daughter.''You remember Bray?' rejoined Arthur Gride.'No,' said Ralph, looking vacantly at him.'Not Walter Bray! The dashing man, who used his handsome wife soill?''If you seek to recall any particular dashing man to my recollectionby such a trait as that,' said Ralph, shrugging his shoulders, 'Ishall confound him with nine-tenths of the dashing men I have everknown.''Tut, tut. That Bray who is now in the Rules of the Bench,' saidold Arthur. 'You can't have forgotten Bray. Both of us didbusiness with him. Why, he owes you money!''Oh him!' rejoined Ralph. 'Ay, ay. Now you speak. Oh! It's hisdaughter, is it?'Naturally as this was said, it was not said so naturally but that akindred spirit like old Arthur Gride might have discerned a designupon the part of Ralph to lead him on to much more explicitstatements and explanations than he would have volunteered, or thatRalph could in all likelihood have obtained by any other means. OldArthur, however, was so intent upon his own designs, that hesuffered himself to be overreached, and had no suspicion but thathis good friend was in earnest.'I knew you couldn't forget him, when you came to think for amoment,' he said.'You were right,' answered Ralph. 'But old Arthur Gride andmatrimony is a most anomalous conjunction of words; old Arthur Grideand dark eyes and eyelashes, and lips that to look at is to long tokiss, and clustering hair that he wants to play with, and waiststhat he wants to span, and little feet that don't tread uponanything--old Arthur Gride and such things as these is moremonstrous still; but old Arthur Gride marrying the daughter of aruined "dashing man" in the Rules of the Bench, is the mostmonstrous and incredible of all. Plainly, friend Arthur Gride, ifyou want any help from me in this business (which of course you do,or you would not be here), speak out, and to the purpose. And,above all, don't talk to me of its turning to my advantage, for Iknow it must turn to yours also, and to a good round tune too, oryou would have no finger in such a pie as this.'There was enough acerbity and sarcasm not only in the matter ofRalph's speech, but in the tone of voice in which he uttered it, andthe looks with which he eked it out, to have fired even the ancientusurer's cold blood and flushed even his withered cheek. But hegave vent to no demonstration of anger, contenting himself withexclaiming as before, 'What a man it is!' and rolling his head fromside to side, as if in unrestrained enjoyment of his freedom anddrollery. Clearly observing, however, from the expression inRalph's features, that he had best come to the point as speedily asmight be, he composed himself for more serious business, and enteredupon the pith and marrow of his negotiation.First, he dwelt upon the fact that Madeline Bray was devoted to thesupport and maintenance, and was a slave to every wish, of her onlyparent, who had no other friend on earth; to which Ralph rejoinedthat he had heard something of the kind before, and that if she hadknown a little more of the world, she wouldn't have been such afool.Secondly, he enlarged upon the character of her father, arguing,that even taking it for granted that he loved her in return with theutmost affection of which he was capable, yet he loved himself agreat deal better; which Ralph said it was quite unnecessary to sayanything more about, as that was very natural, and probable enough.And, thirdly, old Arthur premised that the girl was a delicate andbeautiful creature, and that he had really a hankering to have herfor his wife. To this Ralph deigned no other rejoinder than a harshsmile, and a glance at the shrivelled old creature before him, whichwere, however, sufficiently expressive.'Now,' said Gride, 'for the little plan I have in my mind to bringthis about; because, I haven't offered myself even to the fatheryet, I should have told you. But that you have gathered already?Ah! oh dear, oh dear, what an edged tool you are!''Don't play with me then,' said Ralph impatiently. 'You know theproverb.''A reply always on the tip of his tongue!' cried old Arthur, raisinghis hands and eyes in admiration. 'He is always prepared! Oh dear,what a blessing to have such a ready wit, and so much ready money toback it!' Then, suddenly changing his tone, he went on: 'I havebeen backwards and forwards to Bray's lodgings several times withinthe last six months. It is just half a year since I first saw thisdelicate morsel, and, oh dear, what a delicate morsel it is! Butthat is neither here nor there. I am his detaining creditor forseventeen hundred pounds!''You talk as if you were the only detaining creditor,' said Ralph,pulling out his pocket-book. 'I am another for nine hundred andseventy-five pounds four and threepence.''The only other, Mr Nickleby,' said old Arthur, eagerly. 'The onlyother. Nobody else went to the expense of lodging a detainer,trusting to our holding him fast enough, I warrant you. We bothfell into the same snare; oh dear, what a pitfall it was; it almostruined me! And lent him our money upon bills, with only one namebesides his own, which to be sure everybody supposed to be a goodone, and was as negotiable as money, but which turned out you knowhow. Just as we should have come upon him, he died insolvent. Ah!it went very nigh to ruin me, that loss did!''Go on with your scheme,' said Ralph. 'It's of no use raising thecry of our trade just now; there's nobody to hear us!''It's always as well to talk that way,' returned old Arthur, with achuckle, 'whether there's anybody to hear us or not. Practice makesperfect, you know. Now, if I offer myself to Bray as his son-in-law, upon one simple condition that the moment I am fast married heshall be quietly released, and have an allowance to live justt'other side the water like a gentleman (he can't live long, for Ihave asked his doctor, and he declares that his complaint is one ofthe Heart and it is impossible), and if all the advantages of thiscondition are properly stated and dwelt upon to him, do you think hecould resist me? And if he could not resist me, do you think hisdaughter could resist him? Shouldn't I have her Mrs Arthur Gride--pretty Mrs Arthur Gride--a tit-bit--a dainty chick--shouldn't I haveher Mrs Arthur Gride in a week, a month, a day--any time I chose toname?''Go on,' said Ralph, nodding his head deliberately, and speaking ina tone whose studied coldness presented a strange contrast to therapturous squeak to which his friend had gradually mounted. 'Go on.You didn't come here to ask me that.''Oh dear, how you talk!' cried old Arthur, edging himself closerstill to Ralph. 'Of course I didn't, I don't pretend I did! I cameto ask what you would take from me, if I prospered with the father,for this debt of yours. Five shillings in the pound, six and-eightpence, ten shillings? I would go as far as ten for such afriend as you, we have always been on such good terms, but you won'tbe so hard upon me as that, I know. Now, will you?''There's something more to be told,' said Ralph, as stony andimmovable as ever.'Yes, yes, there is, but you won't give me time,' returned ArthurGride. 'I want a backer in this matter; one who can talk, and urge,and press a point, which you can do as no man can. I can't do that,for I am a poor, timid, nervous creature. Now, if you get a goodcomposition for this debt, which you long ago gave up for lost,you'll stand my friend, and help me. Won't you?''There's something more,' said Ralph.'No, no, indeed,' cried Arthur Gride.'Yes, yes, indeed. I tell you yes,' said Ralph.'Oh!' returned old Arthur feigning to be suddenly enlightened. 'Youmean something more, as concerns myself and my intention. Ay,surely, surely. Shall I mention that?''I think you had better,' rejoined Ralph, drily.'I didn't like to trouble you with that, because I supposed yourinterest would cease with your own concern in the affair,' saidArthur Gride. 'That's kind of you to ask. Oh dear, how very kindof you! Why, supposing I had a knowledge of some property--somelittle property--very little--to which this pretty chick wasentitled; which nobody does or can know of at this time, but whichher husband could sweep into his pouch, if he knew as much as I do,would that account for--''For the whole proceeding,' rejoined Ralph, abruptly. 'Now, let meturn this matter over, and consider what I ought to have if I shouldhelp you to success.''But don't be hard,' cried old Arthur, raising his hands with animploring gesture, and speaking, in a tremulous voice. 'Don't betoo hard upon me. It's a very small property, it is indeed. Saythe ten shillings, and we'll close the bargain. It's more than Iought to give, but you're so kind--shall we say the ten? Do now,do.'Ralph took no notice of these supplications, but sat for three orfour minutes in a brown study, looking thoughtfully at the personfrom whom they proceeded. After sufficient cogitation he brokesilence, and it certainly could not be objected that he used anyneedless circumlocution, or failed to speak directly to the purpose.'If you married this girl without me,' said Ralph, 'you must pay mydebt in full, because you couldn't set her father free otherwise.It's plain, then, that I must have the whole amount, clear of alldeduction or incumbrance, or I should lose from being honoured withyour confidence, instead of gaining by it. That's the first articleof the treaty. For the second, I shall stipulate that for mytrouble in negotiation and persuasion, and helping you to thisfortune, I have five hundred pounds. That's very little, because youhave the ripe lips, and the clustering hair, and what not, all toyourself. For the third and last article, I require that youexecute a bond to me, this day, binding yourself in the payment ofthese two sums, before noon of the day of your marriage withMadeline Bray. You have told me I can urge and press a point. Ipress this one, and will take nothing less than these terms. Acceptthem if you like. If not, marry her without me if you can. I shallstill get my debt.'To all entreaties, protestations, and offers of compromise betweenhis own proposals and those which Arthur Gride had first suggested,Ralph was deaf as an adder. He would enter into no furtherdiscussion of the subject, and while old Arthur dilated upon theenormity of his demands and proposed modifications of them,approaching by degrees nearer and nearer to the terms he resisted,sat perfectly mute, looking with an air of quiet abstraction overthe entries and papers in his pocket-book. Finding that it wasimpossible to make any impression upon his staunch friend, ArthurGride, who had prepared himself for some such result before he came,consented with a heavy heart to the proposed treaty, and upon thespot filled up the bond required (Ralph kept such instrumentshandy), after exacting the condition that Mr Nickleby shouldaccompany him to Bray's lodgings that very hour, and open thenegotiation at once, should circumstances appear auspicious andfavourable to their designs.In pursuance of this last understanding the worthy gentlemen wentout together shortly afterwards, and Newman Noggs emerged, bottle inhand, from the cupboard, out of the upper door of which, at theimminent risk of detection, he had more than once thrust his rednose when such parts of the subject were under discussion asinterested him most.'I have no appetite now,' said Newman, putting the flask in hispocket. 'I've had my dinner.'Having delivered this observation in a very grievous and dolefultone, Newman reached the door in one long limp, and came back againin another.'I don't know who she may be, or what she may be,' he said: 'but Ipity her with all my heart and soul; and I can't help her, nor can Iany of the people against whom a hundred tricks, but none so vile asthis, are plotted every day! Well, that adds to my pain, but not totheirs. The thing is no worse because I know it, and it tortures meas well as them. Gride and Nickleby! Good pair for a curricle. Ohroguery! roguery! roguery!'With these reflections, and a very hard knock on the crown of hisunfortunate hat at each repetition of the last word, Newman Noggs,whose brain was a little muddled by so much of the contents of thepocket-pistol as had found their way there during his recentconcealment, went forth to seek such consolation as might bederivable from the beef and greens of some cheap eating-house.Meanwhile the two plotters had betaken themselves to the same housewhither Nicholas had repaired for the first time but a few morningsbefore, and having obtained access to Mr Bray, and found hisdaughter from home, had by a train of the most masterly approachesthat Ralph's utmost skill could frame, at length laid open the realobject of their visit.'There he sits, Mr Bray,' said Ralph, as the invalid, not yetrecovered from his surprise, reclined in his chair, lookingalternately at him and Arthur Gride. 'What if he has had the ill-fortune to be one cause of your detention in this place? I have beenanother; men must live; you are too much a man of the world not tosee that in its true light. We offer the best reparation in ourpower. Reparation! Here is an offer of marriage, that many atitled father would leap at, for his child. Mr Arthur Gride, withthe fortune of a prince. Think what a haul it is!''My daughter, sir,' returned Bray, haughtily, 'as I have brought herup, would be a rich recompense for the largest fortune that a mancould bestow in exchange for her hand.''Precisely what I told you,' said the artful Ralph, turning to hisfriend, old Arthur. 'Precisely what made me consider the thing sofair and easy. There is no obligation on either side. You havemoney, and Miss Madeline has beauty and worth. She has youth, youhave money. She has not money, you have not youth. Tit for tat,quits, a match of Heaven's own making!''Matches are made in Heaven, they say,' added Arthur Gride, leeringhideously at the father-in-law he wanted. 'If we are married, itwill be destiny, according to that.''Then think, Mr Bray,' said Ralph, hastily substituting for thisargument considerations more nearly allied to earth, 'think what astake is involved in the acceptance or rejection of these proposalsof my friend.''How can I accept or reject,' interrupted Mr Bray, with an irritableconsciousness that it really rested with him to decide. 'It is formy daughter to accept or reject; it is for my daughter. You knowthat.''True,' said Ralph, emphatically; 'but you have still the power toadvise; to state the reasons for and against; to hint a wish.''To hint a wish, sir!' returned the debtor, proud and mean by turns,and selfish at all times. 'I am her father, am I not? Why should Ihint, and beat about the bush? Do you suppose, like her mother'sfriends and my enemies--a curse upon them all!--that there isanything in what she has done for me but duty, sir, but duty? Or doyou think that my having been unfortunate is a sufficient reason whyour relative positions should be changed, and that she shouldcommand and I should obey? Hint a wish, too! Perhaps you think,because you see me in this place and scarcely able to leave thischair without assistance, that I am some broken-spirited dependentcreature, without the courage or power to do what I may think bestfor my own child. Still the power to hint a wish! I hope so!''Pardon me,' returned Ralph, who thoroughly knew his man, and hadtaken his ground accordingly; 'you do not hear me out. I was aboutto say that your hinting a wish, even hinting a wish, would surelybe equivalent to commanding.''Why, of course it would,' retorted Mr Bray, in an exasperated tone.'If you don't happen to have heard of the time, sir, I tell you thatthere was a time, when I carried every point in triumph against hermother's whole family, although they had power and wealth on theirside, by my will alone.''Still,' rejoined Ralph, as mildly as his nature would allow him,'you have not heard me out. You are a man yet qualified to shine insociety, with many years of life before you; that is, if you livedin freer air, and under brighter skies, and chose your owncompanions. Gaiety is your element, you have shone in it before.Fashion and freedom for you. France, and an annuity that wouldsupport you there in luxury, would give you a new lease of life,would transfer you to a new existence. The town rang with yourexpensive pleasures once, and you could blaze up on a new scene again,profiting by experience, and living a little at others' cost,instead of letting others live at yours. What is there on thereverse side of the picture? What is there? I don't know which isthe nearest churchyard, but a gravestone there, wherever it is, anda date, perhaps two years hence, perhaps twenty. That's all.'Mr Bray rested his elbow on the arm of his chair, and shaded hisface with his hand.'I speak plainly,' said Ralph, sitting down beside him, 'because Ifeel strongly. It's my interest that you should marry your daughterto my friend Gride, because then he sees me paid--in part, that is.I don't disguise it. I acknowledge it openly. But what interesthave you in recommending her to such a step? Keep that in view.She might object, remonstrate, shed tears, talk of his being tooold, and plead that her life would be rendered miserable. But whatis it now?'Several slight gestures on the part of the invalid showed that thesearguments were no more lost upon him, than the smallest iota of hisdemeanour was upon Ralph.'What is it now, I say,' pursued the wily usurer, 'or what has it achance of being? If you died, indeed, the people you hate wouldmake her happy. But can you bear the thought of that?''No!' returned Bray, urged by a vindictive impulse he could notrepress.'I should imagine not, indeed!' said Ralph, quietly. 'If sheprofits by anybody's death,' this was said in a lower tone, 'let itbe by her husband's. Don't let her have to look back to yours, asthe event from which to date a happier life. Where is theobjection? Let me hear it stated. What is it? That her suitor isan old man? Why, how often do men of family and fortune, whohaven't your excuse, but have all the means and superfluities oflife within their reach, how often do they marry their daughters toold men, or (worse still) to young men without heads or hearts, totickle some idle vanity, strengthen some family interest, or securesome seat in Parliament! Judge for her, sir, judge for her. Youmust know best, and she will live to thank you.''Hush! hush!' cried Mr Bray, suddenly starting up, and coveringRalph's mouth with his trembling hand. 'I hear her at the door!'There was a gleam of conscience in the shame and terror of thishasty action, which, in one short moment, tore the thin covering ofsophistry from the cruel design, and laid it bare in all itsmeanness and heartless deformity. The father fell into his chairpale and trembling; Arthur Gride plucked and fumbled at his hat, anddurst not raise his eyes from the floor; even Ralph crouched for themoment like a beaten hound, cowed by the presence of one younginnocent girl!The effect was almost as brief as sudden. Ralph was the first torecover himself, and observing Madeline's looks of alarm, entreatedthe poor girl to be composed, assuring her that there was no causefor fear.'A sudden spasm,' said Ralph, glancing at Mr Bray. 'He is quitewell now.'It might have moved a very hard and worldly heart to see the youngand beautiful creature, whose certain misery they had beencontriving but a minute before, throw her arms about her father'sneck, and pour forth words of tender sympathy and love, the sweetesta father's ear can know, or child's lips form. But Ralph lookedcoldly on; and Arthur Gride, whose bleared eyes gloated only overthe outward beauties, and were blind to the spirit which reignedwithin, evinced--a fantastic kind of warmth certainly, but notexactly that kind of warmth of feeling which the contemplation ofvirtue usually inspires.'Madeline,' said her father, gently disengaging himself, 'it wasnothing.''But you had that spasm yesterday, and it is terrible to see you insuch pain. Can I do nothing for you?''Nothing just now. Here are two gentlemen, Madeline, one of whomyou have seen before. She used to say,' added Mr Bray, addressingArthur Gride, 'that the sight of you always made me worse. That wasnatural, knowing what she did, and only what she did, of ourconnection and its results. Well, well. Perhaps she may change hermind on that point; girls have leave to change their minds, youknow. You are very tired, my dear.''I am not, indeed.''Indeed you are. You do too much.''I wish I could do more.''I know you do, but you overtask your strength. This wretched life,my love, of daily labour and fatigue, is more than you can bear, Iam sure it is. Poor Madeline!'With these and many more kind words, Mr Bray drew his daughter tohim and kissed her cheek affectionately. Ralph, watching himsharply and closely in the meantime, made his way towards the door,and signed to Gride to follow him.'You will communicate with us again?' said Ralph.'Yes, yes,' returned Mr Bray, hastily thrusting his daughter aside.'In a week. Give me a week.''One week,' said Ralph, turning to his companion, 'from today.Good-morning. Miss Madeline, I kiss your hand.''We will shake hands, Gride,' said Mr Bray, extending his, as oldArthur bowed. 'You mean well, no doubt. I an bound to say so now.If I owed you money, that was not your fault. Madeline, my love,your hand here.''Oh dear! If the young lady would condescent! Only the tips of herfingers,' said Arthur, hesitating and half retreating.Madeline shrunk involuntarily from the goblin figure, but she placedthe tips of her fingers in his hand and instantly withdrew them.After an ineffectual clutch, intended to detain and carry them tohis lips, old Arthur gave his own fingers a mumbling kiss, and withmany amorous distortions of visage went in pursuit of his friend,who was by this time in the street.'What does he say, what does he say? What does the giant say to thepigmy?' inquired Arthur Gride, hobbling up to Ralph.'What does the pigmy say to the giant?' rejoined Ralph, elevatinghis eyebrows and looking down upon his questioner.'He doesn't know what to say,' replied Arthur Gride. 'He hopes andfears. But is she not a dainty morsel?''I have no great taste for beauty,' growled Ralph.'But I have,' rejoined Arthur, rubbing his hands. 'Oh dear! Howhandsome her eyes looked when she was stooping over him! Such longlashes, such delicate fringe! She--she--looked at me so soft.''Not over-lovingly, I think,' said Ralph. 'Did she?''No, you think not?' replied old Arthur. 'But don't you think itcan be brought about? Don't you think it can?'Ralph looked at him with a contemptuous frown, and replied with asneer, and between his teeth:'Did you mark his telling her she was tired and did too much, andovertasked her strength?''Ay, ay. What of it?''When do you think he ever told her that before? The life is morethan she can bear. Yes, yes. He'll change it for her.''D'ye think it's done?' inquired old Arthur, peering into hiscompanion's face with half-closed eyes.'I am sure it's done,' said Ralph. 'He is trying to deceivehimself, even before our eyes, already. He is making believe thathe thinks of her good and not his own. He is acting a virtuouspart, and so considerate and affectionate, sir, that the daughterscarcely knew him. I saw a tear of surprise in her eye. There'llbe a few more tears of surprise there before long, though of adifferent kind. Oh! we may wait with confidence for this day week.'