Chapter 55

by Charles Dickens

　　Of Family Matters, Cares, Hopes, Disappointments, and SorrowsAlthough Mrs Nickleby had been made acquainted by her son anddaughter with every circumstance of Madeline Bray's history whichwas known to them; although the responsible situation in whichNicholas stood had been carefully explained to her, and she had beenprepared, even for the possible contingency of having to receive theyoung lady in her own house, improbable as such a result hadappeared only a few minutes before it came about, still, MrsNickleby, from the moment when this confidence was first reposed inher, late on the previous evening, had remained in an unsatisfactoryand profoundly mystified state, from which no explanations orarguments could relieve her, and which every fresh soliloquy andreflection only aggravated more and more.'Bless my heart, Kate!' so the good lady argued; 'if the MrCheerybles don't want this young lady to be married, why don't theyfile a bill against the Lord Chancellor, make her a Chancery ward,and shut her up in the Fleet prison for safety?--I have read of suchthings in the newspapers a hundred times. Or, if they are so veryfond of her as Nicholas says they are, why don't they marry herthemselves--one of them I mean? And even supposing they don't wanther to be married, and don't want to marry her themselves, why inthe name of wonder should Nicholas go about the world, forbiddingpeople's banns?''I don't think you quite understand,' said Kate, gently.'Well I am sure, Kate, my dear, you're very polite!' replied MrsNickleby. 'I have been married myself I hope, and I have seen otherpeople married. Not understand, indeed!''I know you have had great experience, dear mama,' said Kate; 'Imean that perhaps you don't quite understand all the circumstancesin this instance. We have stated them awkwardly, I dare say.''That I dare say you have,' retorted her mother, briskly. 'That'svery likely. I am not to be held accountable for that; though, atthe same time, as the circumstances speak for themselves, I shalltake the liberty, my love, of saying that I do understand them, andperfectly well too; whatever you and Nicholas may choose to think tothe contrary. Why is such a great fuss made because this MissMagdalen is going to marry somebody who is older than herself? Yourpoor papa was older than I was, four years and a half older. JaneDibabs--the Dibabses lived in the beautiful little thatched whitehouse one story high, covered all over with ivy and creeping plants,with an exquisite little porch with twining honysuckles and allsorts of things: where the earwigs used to fall into one's tea on asummer evening, and always fell upon their backs and kickeddreadfully, and where the frogs used to get into the rushlightshades when one stopped all night, and sit up and look through thelittle holes like Christians--Jane Dibabs, she married a man who wasa great deal older than herself, and would marry him, notwithstandingall that could be said to the contrary, and she was so fond of himthat nothing was ever equal to it. There was no fuss made aboutJane Dibabs, and her husband was a most honourable and excellentman, and everybody spoke well of him. Then why should there by anyfuss about this Magdalen?''Her husband is much older; he is not her own choice; his characteris the very reverse of that which you have just described. Don'tyou see a broad destinction between the two cases?' said Kate.To this, Mrs Nickleby only replied that she durst say she was verystupid, indeed she had no doubt she was, for her own children almostas much as told her so, every day of her life; to be sure she was alittle older than they, and perhaps some foolish people might thinkshe ought reasonably to know best. However, no doubt she was wrong;of course she was; she always was, she couldn't be right, shecouldn't be expected to be; so she had better not expose herself anymore; and to all Kate's conciliations and concessions for an hourensuing, the good lady gave no other replies than Oh, certainly,why did they ask her?, her opinion was of no consequence, it didn'tmatter what she said, with many other rejoinders of the same class.In this frame of mind (expressed, when she had become too resignedfor speech, by nods of the head, upliftings of the eyes, and littlebeginnings of groans, converted, as they attracted attention, intoshort coughs), Mrs Nickleby remained until Nicholas and Katereturned with the object of their solicitude; when, having by thistime asserted her own importance, and becoming besides interested inthe trials of one so young and beautiful, she not only displayed theutmost zeal and solicitude, but took great credit to herself forrecommending the course of procedure which her son had adopted:frequently declaring, with an expressive look, that it was veryfortunate things were as they were: and hinting, that but for greatencouragement and wisdom on her own part, they never could have beenbrought to that pass.Not to strain the question whether Mrs Nickleby had or had not anygreat hand in bringing matters about, it is unquestionable that shehad strong ground for exultation. The brothers, on their return,bestowed such commendations on Nicholas for the part he had taken,and evinced so much joy at the altered state of events and therecovery of their young friend from trials so great and dangers sothreatening, that, as she more than once informed her daughter, shenow considered the fortunes of the family 'as good as' made. MrCharles Cheeryble, indeed, Mrs Nickleby positively asserted, had, inthe first transports of his surprise and delight, 'as good as' saidso. Without precisely explaining what this qualification meant, shesubsided, whenever she mentioned the subject, into such a mysteriousand important state, and had such visions of wealth and dignity inperspective, that (vague and clouded though they were) she was, atsuch times, almost as happy as if she had really been permanentlyprovided for, on a scale of great splendour.The sudden and terrible shock she had received, combined with thegreat affliction and anxiety of mind which she had, for a long time,endured, proved too much for Madeline's strength. Recovering fromthe state of stupefaction into which the sudden death of her fatherhappily plunged her, she only exchanged that condition for one ofdangerous and active illness. When the delicate physical powerswhich have been sustained by an unnatural strain upon the mentalenergies and a resolute determination not to yield, at last giveway, their degree of prostration is usually proportionate to thestrength of the effort which has previously upheld them. Thus itwas that the illness which fell on Madeline was of no slight ortemporary nature, but one which, for a time, threatened her reason,and--scarcely worse--her life itself.Who, slowly recovering from a disorder so severe and dangerous,could be insensible to the unremitting attentions of such a nurse asgentle, tender, earnest Kate? On whom could the sweet soft voice,the light step, the delicate hand, the quiet, cheerful, noiselessdischarge of those thousand little offices of kindness and reliefwhich we feel so deeply when we are ill, and forget so lightly whenwe are well--on whom could they make so deep an impression as on ayoung heart stored with every pure and true affection that womencherish; almost a stranger to the endearments and devotion of itsown sex, save as it learnt them from itself; and rendered, bycalamity and suffering, keenly susceptible of the sympathy so longunknown and so long sought in vain? What wonder that days became asyears in knitting them together! What wonder, if with every hour ofreturning health, there came some stronger and sweeter recognitionof the praises which Kate, when they recalled old scenes--theyseemed old now, and to have been acted years ago--would lavish onher brother! Where would have been the wonder, even, if thosepraises had found a quick response in the breast of Madeline, andif, with the image of Nicholas so constantly recurring in thefeatures of his sister that she could scarcely separate the two, shehad sometimes found it equally difficult to assign to each thefeelings they had first inspired, and had imperceptibly mingled withher gratitude to Nicholas, some of that warmer feeling which she hadassigned to Kate?'My dear,' Mrs Nickleby would say, coming into the room with anelaborate caution, calculated to discompose the nerves of an invalidrather more than the entry of a horse-soldier at full gallop; 'howdo you find yourself tonight? I hope you are better.''Almost well, mama,' Kate would reply, laying down her work, andtaking Madeline's hand in hers.'Kate!' Mrs Nickleby would say, reprovingly, 'don't talk so loud'(the worthy lady herself talking in a whisper that would have madethe blood of the stoutest man run cold in his veins).Kate would take this reproof very quietly, and Mrs Nickleby, makingevery board creak and every thread rustle as she moved stealthilyabout, would add:'My son Nicholas has just come home, and I have come, according tocustom, my dear, to know, from your own lips, exactly how you are;for he won't take my account, and never will.''He is later than usual to-night,' perhaps Madeline would reply.'Nearly half an hour.''Well, I never saw such people in all my life as you are, for time,up here!' Mrs Nickleby would exclaim in great astonishment; 'Ideclare I never did! I had not the least idea that Nicholas wasafter his time, not the smallest. Mr Nickleby used to say--yourpoor papa, I am speaking of, Kate my dear--used to say, thatappetite was the best clock in the world, but you have no appetite,my dear Miss Bray, I wish you had, and upon my word I really thinkyou ought to take something that would give you one. I am sure Idon't know, but I have heard that two or three dozen native lobstersgive an appetite, though that comes to the same thing after all, forI suppose you must have an appetite before you can take 'em. If Isaid lobsters, I meant oysters, but of course it's all the same,though really how you came to know about Nicholas--''We happened to be just talking about him, mama; that was it.''You never seem to me to be talking about anything else, Kate, andupon my word I am quite surprised at your being so very thoughtless.You can find subjects enough to talk about sometimes, and when youknow how important it is to keep up Miss Bray's spirits, andinterest her, and all that, it really is quite extraordinary to mewhat can induce you to keep on prose, prose, prose, din, din, din,everlastingly, upon the same theme. You are a very kind nurse,Kate, and a very good one, and I know you mean very well; but I willsay this--that if it wasn't for me, I really don't know what wouldbecome of Miss Bray's spirits, and so I tell the doctor every day.He says he wonders how I sustain my own, and I am sure I very oftenwonder myself how I can contrive to keep up as I do. Of course it'san exertion, but still, when I know how much depends upon me in thishouse, I am obliged to make it. There's nothing praiseworthy inthat, but it's necessary, and I do it.'With that, Mrs Nickleby would draw up a chair, and for some three-quarters of an hour run through a great variety of distractingtopics in the most distracting manner possible; tearing herselfaway, at length, on the plea that she must now go and amuse Nicholaswhile he took his supper. After a preliminary raising of hisspirits with the information that she considered the patientdecidedly worse, she would further cheer him up by relating howdull, listless, and low-spirited Miss Bray was, because Katefoolishly talked about nothing else but him and family matters.When she had made Nicholas thoroughly comfortable with these andother inspiriting remarks, she would discourse at length on thearduous duties she had performed that day; and, sometimes, be movedto tears in wondering how, if anything were to happen to herself,the family would ever get on without her.At other times, when Nicholas came home at night, he would beaccompanied by Mr Frank Cheeryble, who was commissioned by thebrothers to inquire how Madeline was that evening. On suchoccasions (and they were of very frequent occurrence), Mrs Nicklebydeemed it of particular importance that she should have her witsabout her; for, from certain signs and tokens which had attractedher attention, she shrewdly suspected that Mr Frank, interested ashis uncles were in Madeline, came quite as much to see Kate as toinquire after her; the more especially as the brothers were inconstant communication with the medical man, came backwards andforwards very frequently themselves, and received a full report fromNicholas every morning. These were proud times for Mrs Nickleby;never was anybody half so discreet and sage as she, or half somysterious withal; and never were there such cunning generalship,and such unfathomable designs, as she brought to bear upon Mr Frank,with the view of ascertaining whether her suspicions were wellfounded: and if so, of tantalising him into taking her into hisconfidence and throwing himself upon her merciful consideration.Extensive was the artillery, heavy and light, which Mrs Nicklebybrought into play for the furtherance of these great schemes;various and opposite the means which she employed to bring about theend she had in view. At one time, she was all cordiality and ease;at another, all stiffness and frigidity. Now, she would seem toopen her whole heart to her unhappy victim; the next time they met,she would receive him with the most distant and studious reserve, asif a new light had broken in upon her, and, guessing his intentions,she had resolved to check them in the bud; as if she felt it herbounden duty to act with Spartan firmness, and at once and for everto discourage hopes which never could be realised. At other times,when Nicholas was not there to overhear, and Kate was upstairsbusily tending her sick friend, the worthy lady would throw out darkhints of an intention to send her daughter to France for three orfour years, or to Scotland for the improvement of her healthimpaired by her late fatigues, or to America on a visit, or anywherethat threatened a long and tedious separation. Nay, she even wentso far as to hint, obscurely, at an attachment entertained for herdaughter by the son of an old neighbour of theirs, one HoratioPeltirogus (a young gentleman who might have been, at that time,four years old, or thereabouts), and to represent it, indeed, asalmost a settled thing between the families--only waiting for herdaughter's final decision, to come off with the sanction of thechurch, and to the unspeakable happiness and content of all parties.It was in the full pride and glory of having sprung this last mineone night with extraordinary success, that Mrs Nickleby took theopportunity of being left alone with her son before retiring torest, to sound him on the subject which so occupied her thoughts:not doubting that they could have but one opinion respecting it. Tothis end, she approached the question with divers laudatory andappropriate remarks touching the general amiability of Mr FrankCheeryble.'You are quite right, mother,' said Nicholas, 'quite right. He is afine fellow.''Good-looking, too,' said Mrs Nickleby.'Decidedly good-looking,' answered Nicholas.'What may you call his nose, now, my dear?' pursued Mrs Nickleby,wishing to interest Nicholas in the subject to the utmost.'Call it?' repeated Nicholas.'Ah!' returned his mother, 'what style of nose? What order ofarchitecture, if one may say so. I am not very learned in noses.Do you call it a Roman or a Grecian?''Upon my word, mother,' said Nicholas, laughing, 'as well as Iremember, I should call it a kind of Composite, or mixed nose. ButI have no very strong recollection on the subject. If it willafford you any gratification, I'll observe it more closely, and letyou know.''I wish you would, my dear,' said Mrs Nickleby, with an earnestlook.'Very well,' returned Nicholas. 'I will.'Nicholas returned to the perusal of the book he had been reading,when the dialogue had gone thus far. Mrs Nickleby, after stopping alittle for consideration, resumed.'He is very much attached to you, Nicholas, my dear.'Nicholas laughingly said, as he closed his book, that he was glad tohear it, and observed that his mother seemed deep in their newfriend's confidence already.'Hem!' said Mrs Nickleby. 'I don't know about that, my dear, but Ithink it is very necessary that somebody should be in hisconfidence; highly necessary.'Elated by a look of curiosity from her son, and the consciousness ofpossessing a great secret, all to herself, Mrs Nickleby went on withgreat animation:'I am sure, my dear Nicholas, how you can have failed to notice it,is, to me, quite extraordinary; though I don't know why I should saythat, either, because, of course, as far as it goes, and to acertain extent, there is a great deal in this sort of thing,especially in this early stage, which, however clear it may be tofemales, can scarcely be expected to be so evident to men. I don'tsay that I have any particular penetration in such matters. I mayhave; those about me should know best about that, and perhaps doknow. Upon that point I shall express no opinion, it wouldn'tbecome me to do so, it's quite out of the question, quite.'Nicholas snuffed the candles, put his hands in his pockets, and,leaning back in his chair, assumed a look of patient suffering andmelancholy resignation.'I think it my duty, Nicholas, my dear,' resumed his mother, 'totell you what I know: not only because you have a right to know ittoo, and to know everything that happens in this family, but becauseyou have it in your power to promote and assist the thing very much;and there is no doubt that the sooner one can come to a clearunderstanding on such subjects, it is always better, every way.There are a great many things you might do; such as taking a walk inthe garden sometimes, or sitting upstairs in your own room for alittle while, or making believe to fall asleep occasionally, orpretending that you recollected some business, and going out for anhour or so, and taking Mr Smike with you. These seem very slightthings, and I dare say you will be amused at my making them of somuch importance; at the same time, my dear, I can assure you (andyou'll find this out, Nicholas, for yourself one of these days, ifyou ever fall in love with anybody; as I trust and hope you will,provided she is respectable and well conducted, and of course you'dnever dream of falling in love with anybody who was not), I say, Ican assure you that a great deal more depends upon these littlethings than you would suppose possible. If your poor papa wasalive, he would tell you how much depended on the parties being leftalone. Of course, you are not to go out of the room as if you meantit and did it on purpose, but as if it was quite an accident, and tocome back again in the same way. If you cough in the passage beforeyou open the door, or whistle carelessly, or hum a tune, orsomething of that sort, to let them know you're coming, it's alwaysbetter; because, of course, though it's not only natural butperfectly correct and proper under the circumstances, still it isvery confusing if you interrupt young people when they are--whenthey are sitting on the sofa, and--and all that sort of thing: whichis very nonsensical, perhaps, but still they will do it.'The profound astonishment with which her son regarded her duringthis long address, gradually increasing as it approached its climaxin no way discomposed Mrs Nickleby, but rather exalted her opinionof her own cleverness; therefore, merely stopping to remark, withmuch complacency, that she had fully expected him to be surprised,she entered on a vast quantity of circumstantial evidence of aparticularly incoherent and perplexing kind; the upshot of whichwas, to establish, beyond the possibility of doubt, that Mr FrankCheeryble had fallen desperately in love with Kate.'With whom?' cried Nicholas.Mrs Nickleby repeated, with Kate.'What! Our Kate! My sister!''Lord, Nicholas!' returned Mrs Nickleby, 'whose Kate should it be,if not ours; or what should I care about it, or take any interest init for, if it was anybody but your sister?''Dear mother,' said Nicholas, 'surely it can't be!''Very good, my dear,' replied Mrs Nickleby, with great confidence.'Wait and see.'Nicholas had never, until that moment, bestowed a thought upon theremote possibility of such an occurrence as that which was nowcommunicated to him; for, besides that he had been much from home oflate and closely occupied with other matters, his own jealous fearshad prompted the suspicion that some secret interest in Madeline,akin to that which he felt himself, occasioned those visits of FrankCheeryble which had recently become so frequent. Even now, althoughhe knew that the observation of an anxious mother was much morelikely to be correct in such a case than his own, and although shereminded him of many little circumstances which, taken together,were certainly susceptible of the construction she triumphantly putupon them, he was not quite convinced but that they arose from meregood-natured thoughtless gallantry, which would have dictated thesame conduct towards any other girl who was young and pleasing. Atall events, he hoped so, and therefore tried to believe it.'I am very much disturbed by what you tell me,' said Nicholas, aftera little reflection, 'though I yet hope you may be mistaken.''I don't understand why you should hope so,' said Mrs Nickleby, 'Iconfess; but you may depend upon it I am not.''What of Kate?' inquired Nicholas.'Why that, my dear,' returned Mrs Nickleby, 'is just the point uponwhich I am not yet satisfied. During this sickness, she has beenconstantly at Madeline's bedside--never were two people so fond ofeach other as they have grown--and to tell you the truth, Nicholas,I have rather kept her away now and then, because I think it's agood plan, and urges a young man on. He doesn't get too sure, youknow.'She said this with such a mingling of high delight and self-congratulation, that it was inexpressibly painful to Nicholas todash her hopes; but he felt that there was only one honourablecourse before him, and that he was bound to take it.'Dear mother,' he said kindly, 'don't you see that if there werereally any serious inclination on the part of Mr Frank towards Kate,and we suffered ourselves for a moment to encourage it, we should beacting a most dishonourable and ungrateful part? I ask you if youdon't see it, but I need not say that I know you don't, or you wouldhave been more strictly on your guard. Let me explain my meaning toyou. Remember how poor we are.'Mrs Nickleby shook her head, and said, through her tears, thatpoverty was not a crime.'No,' said Nicholas, 'and for that reason poverty should engender anhonest pride, that it may not lead and tempt us to unworthy actions,and that we may preserve the self-respect which a hewer of wood anddrawer of water may maintain, and does better in maintaining than amonarch in preserving his. Think what we owe to these two brothers:remember what they have done, and what they do every day for us witha generosity and delicacy for which the devotion of our whole liveswould be a most imperfect and inadequate return. What kind ofreturn would that be which would be comprised in our permittingtheir nephew, their only relative, whom they regard as a son, andfor whom it would be mere childishness to suppose they have notformed plans suitably adapted to the education he has had, and thefortune he will inherit--in our permitting him to marry aportionless girl: so closely connected with us, that theirresistible inference must be, that he was entrapped by a plot;that it was a deliberate scheme, and a speculation amongst us three?Bring the matter clearly before yourself, mother. Now, how wouldyou feel, if they were married, and the brothers, coming here on oneof those kind errands which bring them here so often, you had tobreak out to them the truth? Would you be at ease, and feel thatyou had played an open part?'Poor Mrs Nickleby, crying more and more, murmured that of course MrFrank would ask the consent of his uncles first.'Why, to be sure, that would place him in a better situation withthem,' said Nicholas, 'but we should still be open to the samesuspicions; the distance between us would still be as great; theadvantages to be gained would still be as manifest as now. We maybe reckoning without our host in all this,' he added morecheerfully, 'and I trust, and almost believe we are. If it beotherwise, I have that confidence in Kate that I know she will feelas I do--and in you, dear mother, to be assured that after a littleconsideration you will do the same.'After many more representations and entreaties, Nicholas obtained apromise from Mrs Nickleby that she would try all she could to thinkas he did; and that if Mr Frank persevered in his attentions shewould endeavour to discourage them, or, at the least, would renderhim no countenance or assistance. He determined to forbearmentioning the subject to Kate until he was quite convinced thatthere existed a real necessity for his doing so; and resolved toassure himself, as well as he could by close personal observation,of the exact position of affairs. This was a very wise resolution,but he was prevented from putting it in practice by a new source ofanxiety and uneasiness.Smike became alarmingly ill; so reduced and exhausted that he couldscarcely move from room to room without assistance; and so worn andemaciated, that it was painful to look upon him. Nicholas waswarned, by the same medical authority to whom he had at firstappealed, that the last chance and hope of his life depended on hisbeing instantly removed from London. That part of Devonshire inwhich Nicholas had been himself bred was named as the mostfavourable spot; but this advice was cautiously coupled with theinformation, that whoever accompanied him thither must be preparedfor the worst; for every token of rapid consumption had appeared,and he might never return alive.The kind brothers, who were acquainted with the poor creature's sadhistory, dispatched old Tim to be present at this consultation.That same morning, Nicholas was summoned by brother Charles into hisprivate room, and thus addressed:'My dear sir, no time must be lost. This lad shall not die, if suchhuman means as we can use can save his life; neither shall he diealone, and in a strange place. Remove him tomorrow morning, seethat he has every comfort that his situation requires, and don'tleave him; don't leave him, my dear sir, until you know that thereis no longer any immediate danger. It would be hard, indeed, topart you now. No, no, no! Tim shall wait upon you tonight, sir; Timshall wait upon you tonight with a parting word or two. BrotherNed, my dear fellow, Mr Nickleby waits to shake hands and saygoodbye; Mr Nickleby won't be long gone; this poor chap will soonget better, very soon get better; and then he'll find out some nicehomely country-people to leave him with, and will go backwards andforwards sometimes--backwards and forwards you know, Ned. Andthere's no cause to be downhearted, for he'll very soon get better,very soon. Won't he, won't he, Ned?'What Tim Linkinwater said, or what he brought with him that night,needs not to be told. Next morning Nicholas and his feeblecompanion began their journey.And who but one--and that one he who, but for those who crowdedround him then, had never met a look of kindness, or known a word ofpity--could tell what agony of mind, what blighted thoughts, whatunavailing sorrow, were involved in that sad parting?'See,' cried Nicholas eagerly, as he looked from the coach window,'they are at the corner of the lane still! And now there's Kate,poor Kate, whom you said you couldn't bear to say goodbye to, wavingher handkerchief. Don't go without one gesture of farewell toKate!''I cannot make it!' cried his trembling companion, falling back inhis seat and covering his eyes. 'Do you see her now? Is she therestill?''Yes, yes!' said Nicholas earnestly. 'There! She waves her handagain! I have answered it for you--and now they are out of sight.Do not give way so bitterly, dear friend, don't. You will meet themall again.'He whom he thus encouraged, raised his withered hands and claspedthem fervently together.'In heaven. I humbly pray to God in heaven.'It sounded like the prayer of a broken heart.