Chapter 49

by Charles Dickens

　　Chronicles the further Proceedings of the Nickleby Family, and theSequel of the Adventure of the Gentleman in the Small-clothesWhile Nicholas, absorbed in the one engrossing subject of interestwhich had recently opened upon him, occupied his leisure hours withthoughts of Madeline Bray, and in execution of the commissions whichthe anxiety of brother Charles in her behalf imposed upon him, sawher again and again, and each time with greater danger to his peaceof mind and a more weakening effect upon the lofty resolutions hehad formed, Mrs Nickleby and Kate continued to live in peace andquiet, agitated by no other cares than those which were connectedwith certain harassing proceedings taken by Mr Snawley for therecovery of his son, and their anxiety for Smike himself, whosehealth, long upon the wane, began to be so much affected byapprehension and uncertainty as sometimes to occasion both them andNicholas considerable uneasiness, and even alarm.It was no complaint or murmur on the part of the poor fellow himselfthat thus disturbed them. Ever eager to be employed in such slightservices as he could render, and always anxious to repay hisbenefactors with cheerful and happy looks, less friendly eyes mighthave seen in him no cause for any misgiving. But there were times,and often too, when the sunken eye was too bright, the hollow cheektoo flushed, the breath too thick and heavy in its course, the frametoo feeble and exhausted, to escape their regard and notice.There is a dread disease which so prepares its victim, as it were,for death; which so refines it of its grosser aspect, and throwsaround familiar looks unearthly indications of the coming change; adread disease, in which the struggle between soul and body is sogradual, quiet, and solemn, and the result so sure, that day by day,and grain by grain, the mortal part wastes and withers away, so thatthe spirit grows light and sanguine with its lightening load, and,feeling immortality at hand, deems it but a new term of mortal life;a disease in which death and life are so strangely blended, thatdeath takes the glow and hue of life, and life the gaunt and grislyform of death; a disease which medicine never cured, wealth neverwarded off, or poverty could boast exemption from; which sometimesmoves in giant strides, and sometimes at a tardy sluggish pace, but,slow or quick, is ever sure and certain.It was with some faint reference in his own mind to this disorder,though he would by no means admit it, even to himself, that Nicholashad already carried his faithful companion to a physician of greatrepute. There was no cause for immediate alarm, he said. Therewere no present symptoms which could be deemed conclusive. Theconstitution had been greatly tried and injured in childhood, butstill it might not be--and that was all.But he seemed to grow no worse, and, as it was not difficult to finda reason for these symptoms of illness in the shock and agitation hehad recently undergone, Nicholas comforted himself with the hopethat his poor friend would soon recover. This hope his mother andsister shared with him; and as the object of their joint solicitudeseemed to have no uneasiness or despondency for himself, but eachday answered with a quiet smile that he felt better than he had uponthe day before, their fears abated, and the general happiness was bydegrees restored.Many and many a time in after years did Nicholas look back to thisperiod of his life, and tread again the humble quiet homely scenesthat rose up as of old before him. Many and many a time, in thetwilight of a summer evening, or beside the flickering winter'sfire--but not so often or so sadly then--would his thoughts wanderback to these old days, and dwell with a pleasant sorrow upon everyslight remembrance which they brought crowding home. The littleroom in which they had so often sat long after it was dark, figuringsuch happy futures; Kate's cheerful voice and merry laugh; how,if she were from home, they used to sit and watch for her returnscarcely breaking silence but to say how dull it seemed without her;the glee with which poor Smike would start from the darkened cornerwhere he used to sit, and hurry to admit her, and the tears theyoften saw upon his face, half wondering to see them too, and he sopleased and happy; every little incident, and even slight words andlooks of those old days little heeded then, but well remembered whenbusy cares and trials were quite forgotten, came fresh and thickbefore him many and many a time, and, rustling above the dustygrowth of years, came back green boughs of yesterday.But there were other persons associated with these recollections,and many changes came about before they had being. A necessaryreflection for the purposes of these adventures, which at oncesubside into their accustomed train, and shunning all flightyanticipations or wayward wanderings, pursue their steady anddecorous course.If the brothers Cheeryble, as they found Nicholas worthy of trustand confidence, bestowed upon him every day some new and substantialmark of kindness, they were not less mindful of those who dependedon him. Various little presents to Mrs Nickleby, always of the verythings they most required, tended in no slight degree to theimprovement and embellishment of the cottage. Kate's little storeof trinkets became quite dazzling; and for company! If brotherCharles and brother Ned failed to look in for at least a few minutesevery Sunday, or one evening in the week, there was Mr TimLinkinwater (who had never made half-a-dozen other acquaintances inall his life, and who took such delight in his new friends as nowords can express) constantly coming and going in his evening walks,and stopping to rest; while Mr Frank Cheeryble happened, by somestrange conjunction of circumstances, to be passing the door on somebusiness or other at least three nights in the week.'He is the most attentive young man I ever saw, Kate,' said MrsNickleby to her daughter one evening, when this last-named gentlemanhad been the subject of the worthy lady's eulogium for some time,and Kate had sat perfectly silent.'Attentive, mama!' rejoined Kate.'Bless my heart, Kate!' cried Mrs Nickleby, with her wontedsuddenness, 'what a colour you have got; why, you're quite flushed!''Oh, mama! what strange things you fancy!''It wasn't fancy, Kate, my dear, I'm certain of that,' returned hermother. 'However, it's gone now at any rate, so it don't muchmatter whether it was or not. What was it we were talking about?Oh! Mr Frank. I never saw such attention in my life, never.''Surely you are not serious,' returned Kate, colouring again; andthis time beyond all dispute.'Not serious!' returned Mrs Nickleby; 'why shouldn't I be serious?I'm sure I never was more serious. I will say that his politenessand attention to me is one of the most becoming, gratifying,pleasant things I have seen for a very long time. You don't oftenmeet with such behaviour in young men, and it strikes one more whenone does meet with it.''Oh! attention to you, mama,' rejoined Kate quickly--'oh yes.''Dear me, Kate,' retorted Mrs Nickleby, 'what an extraordinary girlyou are! Was it likely I should be talking of his attention toanybody else? I declare I'm quite sorry to think he should be inlove with a German lady, that I am.''He said very positively that it was no such thing, mama,' returnedKate. 'Don't you remember his saying so that very first night hecame here? Besides,' she added, in a more gentle tone, 'why shouldwe be sorry if it is the case? What is it to us, mama?''Nothing to us, Kate, perhaps,' said Mrs Nickleby, emphatically;'but something to me, I confess. I like English people to bethorough English people, and not half English and half I don't knowwhat. I shall tell him point-blank next time he comes, that I wishhe would marry one of his own country-women; and see what he says tothat.''Pray don't think of such a thing, mama,' returned Kate, hastily;'not for the world. Consider. How very--''Well, my dear, how very what?' said Mrs Nickleby, opening her eyesin great astonishment.Before Kate had returned any reply, a queer little double knockannounced that Miss La Creevy had called to see them; and when MissLa Creevy presented herself, Mrs Nickleby, though strongly disposedto be argumentative on the previous question, forgot all about it ina gush of supposes about the coach she had come by; supposing thatthe man who drove must have been either the man in the shirt-sleevesor the man with the black eye; that whoever he was, he hadn't foundthat parasol she left inside last week; that no doubt they hadstopped a long while at the Halfway House, coming down; or thatperhaps being full, they had come straight on; and, lastly, thatthey, surely, must have passed Nicholas on the road.'I saw nothing of him,' answered Miss La Creevy; 'but I saw thatdear old soul Mr Linkinwater.''Taking his evening walk, and coming on to rest here, before heturns back to the city, I'll be bound!' said Mrs Nickleby.'I should think he was,' returned Miss La Creevy; 'especially asyoung Mr Cheeryble was with him.''Surely that is no reason why Mr Linkinwater should be coming here,'said Kate.'Why I think it is, my dear,' said Miss La Creevy. 'For a youngman, Mr Frank is not a very great walker; and I observe that hegenerally falls tired, and requires a good long rest, when he hascome as far as this. But where is my friend?' said the littlewoman, looking about, after having glanced slyly at Kate. 'He hasnot been run away with again, has he?''Ah! where is Mr Smike?' said Mrs Nickleby; 'he was here thisinstant.'Upon further inquiry, it turned out, to the good lady's unboundedastonishment, that Smike had, that moment, gone upstairs to bed.'Well now,' said Mrs Nickleby, 'he is the strangest creature! LastTuesday--was it Tuesday? Yes, to be sure it was; you recollect,Kate, my dear, the very last time young Mr Cheeryble was here--lastTuesday night he went off in just the same strange way, at the verymoment the knock came to the door. It cannot be that he don't likecompany, because he is always fond of people who are fond ofNicholas, and I am sure young Mr Cheeryble is. And the strangestthing is, that he does not go to bed; therefore it cannot be becausehe is tired. I know he doesn't go to bed, because my room is thenext one, and when I went upstairs last Tuesday, hours after him, Ifound that he had not even taken his shoes off; and he had nocandle, so he must have sat moping in the dark all the time. Now,upon my word,' said Mrs Nickleby, 'when I come to think of it,that's very extraordinary!'As the hearers did not echo this sentiment, but remained profoundlysilent, either as not knowing what to say, or as being unwilling tointerrupt, Mrs Nickleby pursued the thread of her discourse afterher own fashion.'I hope,' said that lady, 'that this unaccountable conduct may notbe the beginning of his taking to his bed and living there all hislife, like the Thirsty Woman of Tutbury, or the Cock-lane Ghost, orsome of those extraordinary creatures. One of them had someconnection with our family. I forget, without looking back to someold letters I have upstairs, whether it was my great-grandfather whowent to school with the Cock-lane Ghost, or the Thirsty Woman ofTutbury who went to school with my grandmother. Miss La Creevy, youknow, of course. Which was it that didn't mind what the clergymansaid? The Cock-lane Ghost or the Thirsty Woman of Tutbury?''The Cock-lane Ghost, I believe.''Then I have no doubt,' said Mrs Nickleby, 'that it was with him mygreat-grandfather went to school; for I know the master of hisschool was a dissenter, and that would, in a great measure, accountfor the Cock-lane Ghost's behaving in such an improper manner to theclergyman when he grew up. Ah! Train up a Ghost--child, I mean--'Any further reflections on this fruitful theme were abruptly cutshort by the arrival of Tim Linkinwater and Mr Frank Cheeryble; inthe hurry of receiving whom, Mrs Nickleby speedily lost sight ofeverything else.'I am so sorry Nicholas is not at home,' said Mrs Nickleby. 'Kate,my dear, you must be both Nicholas and yourself.''Miss Nickleby need be but herself,' said Frank. 'I--if I mayventure to say so--oppose all change in her.''Then at all events she shall press you to stay,' returned MrsNickleby. 'Mr Linkinwater says ten minutes, but I cannot let you goso soon; Nicholas would be very much vexed, I am sure. Kate, mydear!'In obedience to a great number of nods, and winks, and frowns ofextra significance, Kate added her entreaties that the visitorswould remain; but it was observable that she addressed themexclusively to Tim Linkinwater; and there was, besides, a certainembarrassment in her manner, which, although it was as far fromimpairing its graceful character as the tinge it communicated to hercheek was from diminishing her beauty, was obvious at a glance evento Mrs Nickleby. Not being of a very speculative character,however, save under circumstances when her speculations could be putinto words and uttered aloud, that discreet matron attributed theemotion to the circumstance of her daughter's not happening to haveher best frock on: 'though I never saw her look better, certainly,'she reflected at the same time. Having settled the question in thisway, and being most complacently satisfied that in this, and in allother instances, her conjecture could not fail to be the right one,Mrs Nickleby dismissed it from her thoughts, and inwardlycongratulated herself on being so shrewd and knowing.Nicholas did not come home nor did Smike reappear; but neithercircumstance, to say the truth, had any great effect upon the littleparty, who were all in the best humour possible. Indeed, theresprung up quite a flirtation between Miss La Creevy and TimLinkinwater, who said a thousand jocose and facetious things, andbecame, by degrees, quite gallant, not to say tender. Little MissLa Creevy, on her part, was in high spirits, and rallied Tim onhaving remained a bachelor all his life with so much success, thatTim was actually induced to declare, that if he could get anybody tohave him, he didn't know but what he might change his condition evenyet. Miss La Creevy earnestly recommended a lady she knew, whowould exactly suit Mr Linkinwater, and had a very comfortableproperty of her own; but this latter qualification had very littleeffect upon Tim, who manfully protested that fortune would be noobject with him, but that true worth and cheerfulness of dispositionwere what a man should look for in a wife, and that if he had these,he could find money enough for the moderate wants of both. Thisavowal was considered so honourable to Tim, that neither MrsNickleby nor Miss La Creevy could sufficiently extol it; andstimulated by their praises, Tim launched out into several otherdeclarations also manifesting the disinterestedness of his heart,and a great devotion to the fair sex: which were received with noless approbation. This was done and said with a comical mixture ofjest and earnest, and, leading to a great amount of laughter, madethem very merry indeed.Kate was commonly the life and soul of the conversation at home; butshe was more silent than usual upon this occasion (perhaps becauseTim and Miss La Creevy engrossed so much of it), and, keeping alooffrom the talkers, sat at the window watching the shadows as theevening closed in, and enjoying the quiet beauty of the night, whichseemed to have scarcely less attractions to Frank, who firstlingered near, and then sat down beside, her. No doubt, there are agreat many things to be said appropriate to a summer evening, and nodoubt they are best said in a low voice, as being most suitable tothe peace and serenity of the hour; long pauses, too, at times, andthen an earnest word or so, and then another interval of silencewhich, somehow, does not seem like silence either, and perhaps nowand then a hasty turning away of the head, or drooping of the eyestowards the ground, all these minor circumstances, with adisinclination to have candles introduced and a tendency to confusehours with minutes, are doubtless mere influences of the time, asmany lovely lips can clearly testify. Neither is there theslightest reason why Mrs Nickleby should have expressed surprisewhen, candles being at length brought in, Kate's bright eyes wereunable to bear the light which obliged her to avert her face, andeven to leave the room for some short time; because, when one hassat in the dark so long, candles are dazzling, and nothing can bemore strictly natural than that such results should be produced, asall well-informed young people know. For that matter, old peopleknow it too, or did know it once, but they forget these thingssometimes, and more's the pity.The good lady's surprise, however, did not end here. It was greatlyincreased when it was discovered that Kate had not the leastappetite for supper: a discovery so alarming that there is noknowing in what unaccountable efforts of oratory Mrs Nickleby'sapprehensions might have been vented, if the general attention hadnot been attracted, at the moment, by a very strange and uncommonnoise, proceeding, as the pale and trembling servant girl affirmed,and as everybody's sense of hearing seemed to affirm also, 'rightdown' the chimney of the adjoining room.It being quite plain to the comprehension of all present that,however extraordinary and improbable it might appear, the noise didnevertheless proceed from the chimney in question; and the noise(which was a strange compound of various shuffling, sliding,rumbling, and struggling sounds, all muffled by the chimney) stillcontinuing, Frank Cheeryble caught up a candle, and Tim Linkinwaterthe tongs, and they would have very quickly ascertained the cause ofthis disturbance if Mrs Nickleby had not been taken very faint, anddeclined being left behind, on any account. This produced a shortremonstrance, which terminated in their all proceeding to thetroubled chamber in a body, excepting only Miss La Creevy, who, asthe servant girl volunteered a confession of having been subject tofits in her infancy, remained with her to give the alarm and applyrestoratives, in case of extremity.Advancing to the door of the mysterious apartment, they were not alittle surprised to hear a human voice, chanting with a highlyelaborated expression of melancholy, and in tones of suffocationwhich a human voice might have produced from under five or sixfeather-beds of the best quality, the once popular air of 'Has shethen failed in her truth, the beautiful maid I adore?' Nor, onbursting into the room without demanding a parley, was theirastonishment lessened by the discovery that these romantic soundscertainly proceeded from the throat of some man up the chimney, ofwhom nothing was visible but a pair of legs, which were danglingabove the grate; apparently feeling, with extreme anxiety, for thetop bar whereon to effect a landing.A sight so unusual and unbusiness-like as this, completely paralysedTim Linkinwater, who, after one or two gentle pinches at thestranger's ankles, which were productive of no effect, stoodclapping the tongs together, as if he were sharpening them foranother assault, and did nothing else.'This must be some drunken fellow,' said Frank. 'No thief wouldannounce his presence thus.'As he said this, with great indignation, he raised the candle toobtain a better view of the legs, and was darting forward to pullthem down with very little ceremony, when Mrs Nickleby, clasping herhands, uttered a sharp sound, something between a scream and anexclamation, and demanded to know whether the mysterious limbs werenot clad in small-clothes and grey worsted stockings, or whether hereyes had deceived her.'Yes,' cried Frank, looking a little closer. 'Small-clothescertainly, and--and--rough grey stockings, too. Do you know him,ma'am?''Kate, my dear,' said Mrs Nickleby, deliberately sitting herselfdown in a chair with that sort of desperate resignation which seemedto imply that now matters had come to a crisis, and all disguise wasuseless, 'you will have the goodness, my love, to explain preciselyhow this matter stands. I have given him no encouragement--nonewhatever--not the least in the world. You know that, my dear,perfectly well. He was very respectful, exceedingly respectful,when he declared, as you were a witness to; still at the same time,if I am to be persecuted in this way, if vegetable what's-his-namesand all kinds of garden-stuff are to strew my path out of doors, andgentlemen are to come choking up our chimneys at home, I reallydon't know--upon my word I do not know--what is to become of me.It's a very hard case--harder than anything I was ever exposed to,before I married your poor dear papa, though I suffered a good dealof annoyance then--but that, of course, I expected, and made up mymind for. When I was not nearly so old as you, my dear, there was ayoung gentleman who sat next us at church, who used, almost everySunday, to cut my name in large letters in the front of his pewwhile the sermon was going on. It was gratifying, of course,naturally so, but still it was an annoyance, because the pew was ina very conspicuous place, and he was several times publicly takenout by the beadle for doing it. But that was nothing to this. Thisis a great deal worse, and a great deal more embarrassing. I wouldrather, Kate, my dear,' said Mrs Nickleby, with great solemnity, andan effusion of tears: 'I would rather, I declare, have been a pig-faced lady, than be exposed to such a life as this!'Frank Cheeryble and Tim Linkinwater looked, in irrepressibleastonishment, first at each other and then at Kate, who felt thatsome explanation was necessary, but who, between her terror at theapparition of the legs, her fear lest their owner should besmothered, and her anxiety to give the least ridiculous solution ofthe mystery that it was capable of bearing, was quite unable toutter a single word.'He gives me great pain,' continued Mrs Nickleby, drying her eyes,'great pain; but don't hurt a hair of his head, I beg. On noaccount hurt a hair of his head.'It would not, under existing circumstances, have been quite so easyto hurt a hair of the gentleman's head as Mrs Nickleby seemed toimagine, inasmuch as that part of his person was some feet up thechimney, which was by no means a wide one. But, as all this time hehad never left off singing about the bankruptcy of the beautifulmaid in respect of truth, and now began not only to croak veryfeebly, but to kick with great violence as if respiration became atask of difficulty, Frank Cheeryble, without further hesitation,pulled at the shorts and worsteds with such heartiness as to bringhim floundering into the room with greater precipitation than he hadquite calculated upon.'Oh! yes, yes,' said Kate, directly the whole figure of thissingular visitor appeared in this abrupt manner. 'I know who it is.Pray don't be rough with him. Is he hurt? I hope not. Oh, pray seeif he is hurt.''He is not, I assure you,' replied Frank, handling the object of hissurprise, after this appeal, with sudden tenderness and respect.'He is not hurt in the least.''Don't let him come any nearer,' said Kate, retiring as far as shecould.'Oh, no, he shall not,' rejoined Frank. 'You see I have him securehere. But may I ask you what this means, and whether you expected,this old gentleman?''Oh, no,' said Kate, 'of course not; but he--mama does not thinkso, I believe--but he is a mad gentleman who has escaped from thenext house, and must have found an opportunity of secreting himselfhere.''Kate,' interposed Mrs Nickleby with severe dignity, 'I am surprisedat you.''Dear mama,' Kate gently remonstrated.'I am surprised at you,' repeated Mrs Nickleby; 'upon my word, Kate,I am quite astonished that you should join the persecutors of thisunfortunate gentleman, when you know very well that they have thebasest designs upon his property, and that that is the whole secretof it. It would be much kinder of you, Kate, to ask Mr Linkinwateror Mr Cheeryble to interfere in his behalf, and see him righted.You ought not to allow your feelings to influence you; it's notright, very far from it. What should my feelings be, do yousuppose? If anybody ought to be indignant, who is it? I, ofcourse, and very properly so. Still, at the same time, I wouldn'tcommit such an injustice for the world. No,' continued MrsNickleby, drawing herself up, and looking another way with a kind ofbashful stateliness; 'this gentleman will understand me when I tellhim that I repeat the answer I gave him the other day; that Ialways will repeat it, though I do believe him to be sincere when Ifind him placing himself in such dreadful situations on my account;and that I request him to have the goodness to go away directly, orit will be impossible to keep his behaviour a secret from my sonNicholas. I am obliged to him, very much obliged to him, but Icannot listen to his addresses for a moment. It's quiteimpossible.'While this address was in course of delivery, the old gentleman,with his nose and cheeks embellished with large patches of soot, satupon the ground with his arms folded, eyeing the spectators inprofound silence, and with a very majestic demeanour. He did notappear to take the smallest notice of what Mrs Nickleby said, butwhen she ceased to speak he honoured her with a long stare, andinquired if she had quite finished.'I have nothing more to say,' replied that lady modestly. 'I reallycannot say anything more.''Very good,' said the old gentleman, raising his voice, 'then bringin the bottled lightning, a clean tumbler, and a corkscrew.'Nobody executing this order, the old gentleman, after a short pause,raised his voice again and demanded a thunder sandwich. Thisarticle not being forthcoming either, he requested to be served witha fricassee of boot-tops and goldfish sauce, and then laughingheartily, gratified his hearers with a very long, very loud, andmost melodious bellow.But still Mrs Nickleby, in reply to the significant looks of allabout her, shook her head as though to assure them that she sawnothing whatever in all this, unless, indeed, it were a slightdegree of eccentricity. She might have remained impressed withthese opinions down to the latest moment of her life, but for aslight train of circumstances, which, trivial as they were, alteredthe whole complexion of the case.It happened that Miss La Creevy, finding her patient in no verythreatening condition, and being strongly impelled by curiosity tosee what was going forward, bustled into the room while the oldgentleman was in the very act of bellowing. It happened, too, thatthe instant the old gentleman saw her, he stopped short, skippedsuddenly on his feet, and fell to kissing his hand violently: achange of demeanour which almost terrified the little portraitpainter out of her senses, and caused her to retreat behind TimLinkinwater with the utmost expedition.'Aha!' cried the old gentleman, folding his hands, and squeezingthem with great force against each other. 'I see her now; I see hernow! My love, my life, my bride, my peerless beauty. She is comeat last--at last--and all is gas and gaiters!'Mrs Nickleby looked rather disconcerted for a moment, butimmediately recovering, nodded to Miss La Creevy and the otherspectators several times, and frowned, and smiled gravely, givingthem to understand that she saw where the mistake was, and would setit all to rights in a minute or two.'She is come!' said the old gentleman, laying his hand upon hisheart. 'Cormoran and Blunderbore! She is come! All the wealth Ihave is hers if she will take me for her slave. Where are grace,beauty, and blandishments, like those? In the Empress ofMadagascar? No. In the Queen of Diamonds? No. In Mrs Rowland,who every morning bathes in Kalydor for nothing? No. Melt allthese down into one, with the three Graces, the nine Muses, andfourteen biscuit-bakers' daughters from Oxford Street, and make awoman half as lovely. Pho! I defy you.'After uttering this rhapsody, the old gentleman snapped his fingerstwenty or thirty times, and then subsided into an ecstaticcontemplation of Miss La Creevy's charms. This affording MrsNickleby a favourable opportunity of explanation, she went about itstraight.'I am sure,' said the worthy lady, with a prefatory cough, 'thatit's a great relief, under such trying circumstances as these, tohave anybody else mistaken for me--a very great relief; and it's acircumstance that never occurred before, although I have severaltimes been mistaken for my daughter Kate. I have no doubt thepeople were very foolish, and perhaps ought to have known better,but still they did take me for her, and of course that was no faultof mine, and it would be very hard indeed if I was to be maderesponsible for it. However, in this instance, of course, I mustfeel that I should do exceedingly wrong if I suffered anybody--especially anybody that I am under great obligations to--to be madeuncomfortable on my account. And therefore I think it my duty totell that gentleman that he is mistaken, that I am the lady who hewas told by some impertinent person was niece to the Council ofPaving-stones, and that I do beg and entreat of him to go quietlyaway, if it's only for,' here Mrs Nickleby simpered and hesitated,'for my sake.'It might have been expected that the old gentleman would have beenpenetrated to the heart by the delicacy and condescension of thisappeal, and that he would at least have returned a courteous andsuitable reply. What, then, was the shock which Mrs Nicklebyreceived, when, accosting her in the most unmistakable manner, hereplied in a loud and sonourous voice: 'Avaunt! Cat!''Sir!' cried Mrs Nickleby, in a faint tone.'Cat!' repeated the old gentleman. 'Puss, Kit, Tit, Grimalkin,Tabby, Brindle! Whoosh!' with which last sound, uttered in a hissingmanner between his teeth, the old gentleman swung his arms violentlyround and round, and at the same time alternately advanced on MrsNickleby, and retreated from her, in that species of savage dancewith which boys on market-days may be seen to frighten pigs, sheep,and other animals, when they give out obstinate indications ofturning down a wrong street.Mrs Nickleby wasted no words, but uttered an exclamation of horrorand surprise, and immediately fainted away.'I'll attend to mama,' said Kate, hastily; 'I am not at allfrightened. But pray take him away: pray take him away!'Frank was not at all confident of his power of complying with thisrequest, until he bethought himself of the stratagem of sending MissLa Creevy on a few paces in advance, and urging the old gentleman tofollow her. It succeeded to a miracle; and he went away in arapture of admiration, strongly guarded by Tim Linkinwater on oneside, and Frank himself on the other.'Kate,' murmured Mrs Nickleby, reviving when the coast was clear,'is he gone?'She was assured that he was.'I shall never forgive myself, Kate,' said Mrs Nickleby. 'Never!That gentleman has lost his senses, and I am the unhappy cause.''You the cause!' said Kate, greatly astonished.'I, my love,' replied Mrs Nickleby, with a desperate calmness. 'Yousaw what he was the other day; you see what he is now. I told yourbrother, weeks and weeks ago, Kate, that I hoped a disappointmentmight not be too much for him. You see what a wreck he is. Makingallowance for his being a little flighty, you know how rationally,and sensibly, and honourably he talked, when we saw him in thegarden. You have heard the dreadful nonsense he has been guilty ofthis night, and the manner in which he has gone on with that poorunfortunate little old maid. Can anybody doubt how all this hasbeen brought about?''I should scarcely think they could,' said Kate mildly.'I should scarcely think so, either,' rejoined her mother. 'Well!if I am the unfortunate cause of this, I have the satisfaction ofknowing that I am not to blame. I told Nicholas, I said to him,"Nicholas, my dear, we should be very careful how we proceed." Hewould scarcely hear me. If the matter had only been properly takenup at first, as I wished it to be! But you are both of you so likeyour poor papa. However, I have my consolation, and that should beenough for me!'Washing her hands, thus, of all responsibility under this head,past, present, or to come, Mrs Nickleby kindly added that she hopedher children might never have greater cause to reproach themselvesthan she had, and prepared herself to receive the escort, who soonreturned with the intelligence that the old gentleman was safelyhoused, and that they found his custodians, who had been makingmerry with some friends, wholly ignorant of his absence.Quiet being again restored, a delicious half-hour--so Frank calledit, in the course of subsequent conversation with Tim Linkinwater asthey were walking home--was spent in conversation, and Tim's watchat length apprising him that it was high time to depart, the ladieswere left alone, though not without many offers on the part ofFrank to remain until Nicholas arrived, no matter what hour ofthe night it might be, if, after the late neighbourly irruption,they entertained the least fear of being left to themselves.As their freedom from all further apprehension, however, left nopretext for his insisting on mounting guard, he was obliged toabandon the citadel, and to retire with the trusty Tim.Nearly three hours of silence passed away. Kate blushed to find,when Nicholas returned, how long she had been sitting alone,occupied with her own thoughts.'I really thought it had not been half an hour,' she said.'They must have been pleasant thoughts, Kate,' rejoined Nicholasgaily, 'to make time pass away like that. What were they now?'Kate was confused; she toyed with some trifle on the table, lookedup and smiled, looked down and dropped a tear.'Why, Kate,' said Nicholas, drawing his sister towards him andkissing her, 'let me see your face. No? Ah! that was but aglimpse; that's scarcely fair. A longer look than that, Kate.Come--and I'll read your thoughts for you.'There was something in this proposition, albeit it was said withoutthe slightest consciousness or application, which so alarmed hissister, that Nicholas laughingly changed the subject to domesticmatters, and thus gathered, by degrees, as they left the room andwent upstairs together, how lonely Smike had been all night--and byvery slow degrees, too; for on this subject also, Kate seemed tospeak with some reluctance.'Poor fellow,' said Nicholas, tapping gently at his door, 'what canbe the cause of all this?'Kate was hanging on her brother's arm. The door being quicklyopened, she had not time to disengage herself, before Smike, verypale and haggard, and completely dressed, confronted them.'And have you not been to bed?' said Nicholas.'N--n--no,' was the reply.Nicholas gently detained his sister, who made an effort to retire;and asked, 'Why not?''I could not sleep,' said Smike, grasping the hand which his friendextended to him.'You are not well?' rejoined Nicholas.'I am better, indeed. A great deal better,' said Smike quickly.'Then why do you give way to these fits of melancholy?' inquiredNicholas, in his kindest manner; 'or why not tell us the cause? Yougrow a different creature, Smike.''I do; I know I do,' he replied. 'I will tell you the reason oneday, but not now. I hate myself for this; you are all so good andkind. But I cannot help it. My heart is very full; you do notknow how full it is.'He wrung Nicholas's hand before he released it; and glancing, for amoment, at the brother and sister as they stood together, as ifthere were something in their strong affection which touched himvery deeply, withdrew into his chamber, and was soon the onlywatcher under that quiet roof.