Miss Nickleby, rendered desperate by the persecution of Sir
Mulberry Hawk, and the complicated difficulties and distresses which surround
her, appeals, as a last resource, to her uncle for protection
THE ENSUING MORNING brought reflection with it, as morning usually does; but
widely different was the train of thought it awakened in the different persons
who had been so unexpectedly brought together on the preceding evening, by the
active agency of Messrs Pyke and Pluck.
The reflections of Sir Mulberry Hawk -- if such a term can be applied to the
thoughts of the systematic and calculating man of dissipation, whose joys,
regrets, pains, and pleasures, are all of self, and who would seem to retain
nothing of the intellectual faculty but the power to debase himself, and to
degrade the very nature whose outward semblance he wears -- the reflections of
Sir Mulberry Hawk turned upon Kate Nickleby, and were, in brief, that she was
undoubtedly handsome; that her coyness must be easily conquerable by a man of
his address and experience, and that the pursuit was one which could not fail to
redound to his credit, and greatly to enhance his reputation with the world. And
lest this last consideration -- no mean or secondary one with Sir Mulberry --
should sound strangely in the ears of some, let it be remembered that most men
live in a world of their own, and that in that limited circle alone are they
ambitious for distinction and applause. Sir Mulberry's world was peopled with
profligates, and he acted accordingly.
Thus, cases of injustice, and oppression, and tyranny, and the most
extravagant bigotry, are in constant occurrence among us every day. It is the
custom to trumpet forth much wonder and astonishment at the chief actors therein
setting at defiance so completely the opinion of the world; but there is no
greater fallacy; it is precisely because they do consult the opinion of their
own little world that such things take place at all, and strike the great world
dumb with amazement.
The reflections of Mrs Nickleby were of the proudest and most complacent
kind; and under the influence of her very agreeable delusion she straightway sat
down and indited a long letter to Kate, in which she expressed her entire
approval of the admirable choice she had made, and extolled Sir Mulberry to the
skies; asserting, for the more complete satisfaction of her daughter's feelings,
that he was precisely the individual whom she (Mrs Nickleby) would have chosen
for her son-in-law, if she had had the picking and choosing from all mankind.
The good lady then, with the preliminary observation that she might be fairly
supposed not to have lived in the world so long without knowing its ways,
communicated a great many subtle precepts applicable to the state of courtship,
and confirmed in their wisdom by her own personal experience. Above all things
she commended a strict maidenly reserve, as being not only a very laudable thing
in itself, but as tending materially to strengthen and increase a lover's
ardour. `And I never,' added Mrs Nickleby, `was more delighted in my life than
to observe last night, my dear, that your good sense had already told you this.'
With which sentiment, and various hints of the pleasure she derived from the
knowledge that her daughter inherited so large an instalment of her own
excellent sense and discretion (to nearly the full measure of which she might
hope, with care, to succeed in time), Mrs Nickleby concluded a very long and
rather illegible letter.
Poor Kate was well-nigh distracted on the receipt of four closely-written and
closely-crossed sides of congratulation on the very subject which had prevented
her closing her eyes all night, and kept her weeping and watching in her
chamber; still worse and more trying was the necessity of rendering herself
agreeable to Mrs Wititterly, who, being in low spirits after the fatigue of the
preceding night, of course expected her companion (else wherefore had she board
and salary?) to be in the best spirits possible. As to Mr Wititterly, he went
about all day in a tremor of delight at having shaken hands with a lord, and
having actually asked him to come and see him in his own house. The lord
himself, not being troubled to any inconvenient extent with the power of
thinking, regaled himself with the conversation of Messrs Pyke and Pluck, who
sharpened their wit by a plentiful indulgence in various costly stimulants at
his expense.
It was four in the afternoon -- that is, the vulgar afternoon of the sun and
the clock -- and Mrs Wititterly reclined, according to custom, on the
drawing-room sofa, while Kate read aloud a new novel in three volumes, entitled
`The Lady Flabella,' which Alphonse the doubtful had procured from the library
that very morning. And it was a production admirably suited to a lady labouring
under Mrs Wititterly's complaint, seeing that there was not a line in it, from
beginning to end, which could, by the most remote contingency, awaken the
smallest excitement in any person breathing.
Kate read on.
`"Cherizette," said the Lady Flabella, inserting her mouse-like feet in the
blue satin slippers, which had unwittingly occasioned the half-playful
half-angry altercation between herself and the youthful Colonel Befillaire, in
the Duke of Mincefenille's salon de danse on the previous night. "Cherizette, ma
chere, donnez-moi de l'eau-de-Cologne, s'il vous plait, mon enfant."
`"Mercie -- thank you," said the Lady Flabella, as the lively but devoted
Cherizette plentifully besprinkled with the fragrant compound the Lady
Flabella's mouchoir of finest cambric, edged with richest lace, and emblazoned
at the four corners with the Flabella crest, and gorgeous heraldic bearings of
that noble family. "Mercie -- that will do."
`At this instant, while the Lady Flabella yet inhaled that delicious
fragrance by holding the mouchoir to her exquisite, but thoughtfully-chiselled
nose, the door of the boudoir (artfully concealed by rich hangings of silken
damask, the hue of Italy's firmament) was thrown open, and with noiseless tread
two valets-de-chambre, clad in sumptuous liveries of peach-blossom and gold,
advanced into the room followed by a page in bas de soie -- silk stockings --
who, while they remained at some distance making the most graceful obeisances,
advanced to the feet of his lovely mistress, and dropping on one knee presented,
on a golden salver gorgeously chased, a scented billet.
`The Lady Flabella, with an agitation she could not repress, hastily tore off
the envelope and broke the scented seal. It was from Befillaire -- the young,
the slim, the low-voiced -- her own Befillaire.'
`Oh, charming!' interrupted Kate's patroness, who was sometimes taken
literary. `Poetic, really. Read that description again, Miss Nickleby.'
Kate complied.
`Sweet, indeed!' said Mrs Wititterly, with a sigh. `So voluptuous, is it not
-- so soft?'
`Yes, I think it is,' replied Kate, gently; `very soft.'
`Close the book, Miss Nickleby,' said Mrs Wititterly. `I can hear nothing
more today; I should be sorry to disturb the impression of that sweet
description. Close the book.'
Kate complied, not unwillingly; and, as she did so, Mrs Wititterly raising
her glass with a languid hand, remarked, that she looked pale.
`It was the fright of that -- that noise and confusion last night,' said
Kate.
`How very odd!' exclaimed Mrs Wititterly, with a look of surprise. And
certainly, when one comes to think of it, it was very odd that anything should
have disturbed a companion. A steam-engine, or other ingenious piece of
mechanism out of order, would have been nothing to it.
`How did you come to know Lord Frederick, and those other delightful
creatures, child?' asked Mrs Wititterly, still eyeing Kate through her glass.
`I met them at my uncle's,' said Kate, vexed to feel that she was colouring
deeply, but unable to keep down the blood which rushed to her face whenever she
thought of that man.
`Have you known them long?'
`No,' rejoined Kate. `Not long.'
`I was very glad of the opportunity which that respectable person, your
mother, gave us of being known to them,' said Mrs Wititterly, in a lofty manner.
`Some friends of ours were on the very point of introducing us, which makes it
quite remarkable.'
This was said lest Miss Nickleby should grow conceited on the honour and
dignity of having known four great people (for Pyke and Pluck were included
among the delightful creatures), whom Mrs Wititterly did not know. But as the
circumstance had made no impression one way or other upon Kate's mind, the force
of the observation was quite lost upon her.
`They asked permission to call,' said Mrs Wititterly. `I gave it them of
course.'
`Do you expect them today?' Kate ventured to inquire.
Mrs Wititterly's answer was lost in the noise of a tremendous rapping at the
street-door, and before it had ceased to vibrate, there drove up a handsome
cabriolet, out of which leaped Sir Mulberry Hawk and his friend Lord Verisopht.
`They are here now,' said Kate, rising and hurrying away.
`Miss Nickleby!' cried Mrs Wititterly, perfectly aghast at a companion's
attempting to quit the room, without her permission first had and obtained.
`Pray don't think of going.'
`You are very good!' replied Kate. `But --'
`For goodness' sake, don't agitate me by making me speak so much,' said Mrs
Wititterly, with great sharpness. `Dear me, Miss Nickleby, I beg --'
It was in vain for Kate to protest that she was unwell, for the footsteps of
the knockers, whoever they were, were already on the stairs. She resumed her
seat, and had scarcely done so, when the doubtful page darted into the room and
announced, Mr Pyke, and Mr Pluck, and Lord Verisopht, and Sir Mulberry Hawk, all
at one burst.
`The most extraordinary thing in the world,' said Mr Pluck, saluting both
ladies with the utmost cordiality; `the most extraordinary thing. As Lord
Frederick and Sir Mulberry drove up to the door, Pyke and I had that instant
knocked.'
`That instant knocked,' said Pyke.
`No matter how you came, so that you are here,' said Mrs Wititterly, who, by
dint of lying on the same sofa for three years and a half, had got up quite a
little pantomime of graceful attitudes, and now threw herself into the most
striking of the whole series, to astonish the visitors. `I am delighted, I am
sure.'
`And how is Miss Nickleby?' said Sir Mulberry Hawk, accosting Kate, in a low
voice -- not so low, however, but that it reached the ears of Mrs Wititterly.
`Why, she complains of suffering from the fright of last night,' said the
lady. `I am sure I don't wonder at it, for my nerves are quite torn to pieces.'
`And yet you look,' observed Sir Mulberry, turning round; `and yet you look
--'
`Beyond everything,' said Mr Pyke, coming to his patron's assistance. Of
course Mr Pluck said the same.
`I am afraid Sir Mulberry is a flatterer, my lord,' said Mrs Wititterly,
turning to that young gentleman, who had been sucking the head of his cane in
silence, and staring at Kate.
`Oh, deyvlish!' replied Verisopht. Having given utterance to which remarkable
sentiment, he occupied himself as before.
`Neither does Miss Nickleby look the worse,' said Sir Mulberry, bending his
bold gaze upon her. `She was always handsome, but upon my soul, ma'am, you seem
to have imparted some of your own good looks to her besides.'
To judge from the glow which suffused the poor girl's countenance after this
speech, Mrs Wititterly might, with some show of reason, have been supposed to
have imparted to it some of that artificial bloom which decorated her own. Mrs
Wititterly admitted, though not with the best grace in the world, that Kate did
look pretty. She began to think, too, that Sir Mulberry was not quite so
agreeable a creature as she had at first supposed him; for, although a skilful
flatterer is a most delightful companion, if you can keep him all to yourself,
his taste becomes very doubtful when he takes to complimenting other people.
`Pyke,' said the watchful Mr Pluck, observing the effect which the praise of
Miss Nickleby had produced.
`Well, Pluck,' said Pyke.
`Is there anybody,' demanded Mr Pluck, mysteriously, `anybody you know, that
Mrs Wititterly's profile reminds you of?'
`Reminds me of!' answered Pyke. `Of course there is.'
`Who do you mean?' said Pluck, in the same mysterious manner. `The D. of B.?'
`The C. of B.,' replied Pyke, with the faintest trace of a grin lingering in
his countenance. `The beautiful sister is the countess; not the duchess.'
`True,' said Pluck, `the C. of B. The resemblance is wonderful!'
`Perfectly startling,' said Mr Pyke.
Here was a state of things! Mrs Wititterly was declared, upon the testimony
of two veracious and competent witnesses, to be the very picture of a countess!
This was one of the consequences of getting into good society. Why, she might
have moved among grovelling people for twenty years, and never heard of it. How
could she, indeed? what did they know about countesses?
The two gentlemen having, by the greediness with which this little bait was
swallowed, tested the extent of Mrs Wititterly's appetite for adulation,
proceeded to administer that commodity in very large doses, thus affording to
Sir Mulberry Hawk an opportunity of pestering Miss Nickleby with questions and
remarks, to which she was absolutely obliged to make some reply. Meanwhile, Lord
Verisopht enjoyed unmolested the full flavour of the gold knob at the top of his
cane, as he would have done to the end of the interview if Mr Wititterly had not
come home, and caused the conversation to turn to his favourite topic.
`My lord,' said Mr Wititterly, `I am delighted -- honoured -- proud. Be
seated again, my lord, pray. I am proud, indeed -- most proud.'
It was to the secret annoyance of his wife that Mr Wititterly said all this,
for, although she was bursting with pride and arrogance, she would have had the
illustrious guests believe that their visit was quite a common occurrence, and
that they had lords and baronets to see them every day in the week. But Mr
Wititterly's feelings were beyond the power of suppression.
`It is an honour, indeed!' said Mr Wititterly. `Julia, my soul, you will
suffer for this tomorrow.'
`Suffer!' cried Lord Verisopht.
`The reaction, my lord, the reaction,' said Mr Wititterly. `This violent
strain upon the nervous system over, my lord, what ensues? A sinking, a
depression, a lowness, a lassitude, a debility. My lord, if Sir Tumley Snuffim
was to see that delicate creature at this moment, he would not give a -- a --
this for her life.' In illustration of which remark, Mr Wititterly took a pinch
of snuff from his box, and jerked it lightly into the air as an emblem of
instability.
`Not that,' said Mr Wititterly, looking about him with a seriouscountenance.
`Sir Tumley Snuffim would not give that for Mrs Wititterly's existence.'
Mr Wititterly told this with a kind of sober exultation, as if it were no
trifling distinction for a man to have a wife in such a desperate state, and Mrs
Wititterly sighed and looked on, as if she felt the honour, but had determined
to bear it as meekly as might be.
`Mrs Wititterly,' said her husband, `is Sir Tumley Snuffim's favourite
patient. I believe I may venture to say, that Mrs Wititterly is the first person
who took the new medicine which is supposed to have destroyed a family at
Kensington Gravel Pits. I believe she was. If I am wrong, Julia, my dear, you
will correct me.'
`I believe I was,' said Mrs Wititterly, in a faint voice.
As there appeared to be some doubt in the mind of his patron how he could
best join in this conversation, the indefatigable Mr Pyke threw himself into the
breach, and, by way of saying something to the point, inquired -- with reference
to the aforesaid medicine -- whether it was nice.
`No, sir, it was not. It had not even that recommendation,' said Mr W.
`Mrs Wititterly is quite a martyr,' observed Pyke, with a complimentary bow.
`I think I am,' said Mrs Wititterly, smiling.
`I think you are, my dear Julia,' replied her husband, in a tone which seemed
to say that he was not vain, but still must insist upon their privileges. `If
anybody, my lord,' added Mr Wititterly, wheeling round to the nobleman, `will
produce to me a greater martyr than Mrs Wititterly, all I can say is, that I
shall be glad to see that martyr, whether male or female -- that's all, my
lord.'
Pyke and Pluck promptly remarked that certainly nothing could be fairer than
that; and the call having been by this time protracted to a very great length,
they obeyed Sir Mulberry's look, and rose to go. This brought Sir Mulberry
himself and Lord Verisopht on their legs also. Many protestations of friendship,
and expressions anticipative of the pleasure which must inevitably flow from so
happy an acquaintance, were exchanged, and the visitors departed, with renewed
assurances that at all times and seasons the mansion of the Wititterlys would be
honoured by receiving them beneath its roof.
That they came at all times and seasons -- that they dined there one day,
supped the next, dined again on the next, and were constantly to and fro on all
-- that they made parties to visit public places, and met by accident at lounges
-- that upon all these occasions Miss Nickleby was exposed to the constant and
unremitting persecution of Sir Mulberry Hawk, who now began to feel his
character, even in the estimation of his two dependants, involved in the
successful reduction of her pride -- that she had no intervals of peace or rest,
except at those hours when she could sit in her solitary room, and weep over the
trials of the day -- all these were consequences naturally flowing from the
well-laid plans of Sir Mulberry, and their able execution by the auxiliaries,
Pyke and Pluck.
And thus for a fortnight matters went on. That any but the weakest and
silliest of people could have seen in one interview that Lord Verisopht, though
he was a lord, and Sir Mulberry Hawk, though he was a baronet, were not persons
accustomed to be the best possible companions, and were certainly not calculated
by habits, manners, tastes, or conversation, to shine with any very great lustre
in the society of ladies, need scarcely be remarked. But with Mrs Wititterly the
two titles were all sufficient; coarseness became humour, vulgarity softened
itself down into the most charming eccentricity; insolence took the guise of an
easy absence of reserve, attainable only by those who had had the good fortune
to mix with high folks.
If the mistress put such a construction upon the behaviour of her new
friends, what could the companion urge against them? If they accustomed
themselves to very little restraint before the lady of the house, with how much
more freedom could they address her paid dependent! Nor was even this the worst.
As the odious Sir Mulberry Hawk attached himself to Kate with less and less of
disguise, Mrs Wititterly began to grow jealous of the superior attractions of
Miss Nickleby. If this feeling had led to her banishment from the drawing-room
when such company was there, Kate would have been only too happy and willing
that it should have existed, but unfortunately for her she possessed that native
grace and true gentility of manner, and those thousand nameless accomplishments
which give to female society its greatest charm; if these be valuable anywhere,
they were especially so where the lady of the house was a mere animated doll.
The consequence was, that Kate had the double mortification of being an
indispensable part of the circle when Sir Mulberry and his friends were there,
and of being exposed, on that very account, to all Mrs Wititterly's ill-humours
and caprices when they were gone. She became utterly and completely miserable.
Mrs Wititterly had never thrown off the mask with regard to Sir Mulberry, but
when she was more than usually out of temper, attributed the circumstance, as
ladies sometimes do, to nervous indisposition. However, as the dreadful idea
that Lord Verisopht also was somewhat taken with Kate, and that she, Mrs
Wititterly, was quite a secondary person, dawned upon that lady's mind and
gradually developed itself, she became possessed with a large quantity of highly
proper and most virtuous indignation, and felt it her duty, as a married lady
and a moral member of society, to mention the circumstance to `the young person'
without delay.
Accordingly Mrs Wititterly broke ground next morning, during a pause in the
novel-reading.
`Miss Nickleby,' said Mrs Wititterly, `I wish to speak to you very gravely. I
am sorry to have to do it, upon my word I am very sorry, but you leave me no
alternative, Miss Nickleby.' Here Mrs Wititterly tossed her head -- not
passionately, only virtuously -- and remarked, with some appearance of
excitement, that she feared that palpitation of the heart was coming on again.
`Your behaviour, Miss Nickleby,' resumed the lady, `is very far from pleasing
me -- very far. I am very anxious indeed that you should do well, but you may
depend upon it, Miss Nickleby, you will not, if you go on as you do.'
`Ma'am!' exclaimed Kate, proudly.
`Don't agitate me by speaking in that way, Miss Nickleby, don't,' said Mrs
Wititterly, with some violence, `or you'll compel me to ring the bell.'
Kate looked at her, but said nothing.
`You needn't suppose,' resumed Mrs Wititterly, `that your looking at me in
that way, Miss Nickleby, will prevent my saying what I am going to say, which I
feel to be a religious duty. You needn't direct your glances towards me,' said
Mrs Wititterly, with a sudden burst of spite; `I am not Sir Mulberry, no, nor
Lord Frederick Verisopht, Miss Nickleby, nor am I Mr Pyke, nor Mr Pluck either.'
Kate looked at her again, but less steadily than before; and resting her
elbow on the table, covered her eyes with her hand.
`If such things had been done when I was a young girl,' said Mrs Wititterly
(this, by the way, must have been some little time before), `I don't suppose
anybody would have believed it.'
`I don't think they would,' murmured Kate. `I do not think anybody would
believe, without actually knowing it, what I seem doomed to undergo!'
`Don't talk to me of being doomed to undergo, Miss Nickleby, if you please,'
said Mrs Wititterly, with a shrillness of tone quite surprising in so great an
invalid. `I will not be answered, Miss Nickleby. I am not accustomed to be
answered, nor will I permit it for an instant. Do you hear?' she added, waiting
with some apparent inconsistency for an answer.
`I do hear you, ma'am,' replied Kate, `with surprise -- with greater surprise
than I can express.'
`I have always considered you a particularly well-behaved young person for
your station in life,' said Mrs Wititterly; `and as you are a person of healthy
appearance, and neat in your dress and so forth, I have taken an interest in
you, as I do still, considering that I owe a sort of duty to that respectable
old female, your mother. For these reasons, Miss Nickleby, I must tell you once
for all, and begging you to mind what I say, that I must insist upon your
immediately altering your very forward behaviour to the gentleman who visit at
this house. It really is not becoming,' said Mrs Wititterly, closing her chaste
eyes as she spoke; `it is improper -- quite improper."
`Oh!' cried Kate, looking upwards and clasping her hands; `is not this, is
not this, too cruel, too hard to bear! Is it not enough that I should have
suffered as I have, night and day; that I should almost have sunk in my own
estimation from very shame of having been brought into contact with such people;
but must I also be exposed to this unjust and most unfounded charge!'
`You will have the goodness to recollect, Miss Nickleby,' said Mrs
Wititterly, `that when you use such terms as "unjust", and "unfounded", you
charge me, in effect, with stating that which is untrue.'
`I do,' said Kate with honest indignation. `Whether you make this accusation
of yourself, or at the prompting of others, is alike to me. I say it is vilely,
grossly, wilfully untrue. Is it possible!' cried Kate, `that anyone of my own
sex can have sat by, and not have seen the misery these men have caused me? Is
it possible that you, ma'am, can have been present, and failed to mark the
insulting freedom that their every look bespoke? Is it possible that you can
have avoided seeing, that these libertines, in their utter disrespect for you,
and utter disregard of all gentlemanly behaviour, and almost of decency, have
had but one object in introducing themselves here, and that the furtherance of
their designs upon a friendless, helpless girl, who, without this humiliating
confession, might have hoped to receive from one so much her senior something
like womanly aid and sympathy? I do not -- I cannot believe it!'
If poor Kate had possessed the slightest knowledge of the world, she
certainly would not have ventured, even in the excitement into which she had
been lashed, upon such an injudicious speech as this. Its effect was precisely
what a more experienced observer would have foreseen. Mrs Wititterly received
the attack upon her veracity with exemplary calmness, and listened with the most
heroic fortitude to Kate's account of her own sufferings. But allusion being
made to her being held in disregard by the gentlemen, she evinced violent
emotion, and this blow was no sooner followed up by the remark concerning her
seniority, than she fell back upon the sofa, uttering dismal screams.
`What is the matter?' cried Mr Wititterly, bouncing into the room. `Heavens,
what do I see? Julia! Julia! look up, my life, look up!'
But Julia looked down most perseveringly, and screamed still louder; so Mr
Wititterly rang the bell, and danced in a frenzied manner round the sofa on
which Mrs Wititterly lay; uttering perpetual cries for Sir Tumley Snuffim, and
never once leaving off to ask for any explanation of the scene before him.
`Run for Sir Tumley,' cried Mr Wititterly, menacing the page with both fists.
`I knew it, Miss Nickleby,' he said, looking round with an air of melancholy
triumph, `that society has been too much for her. This is all soul, you know,
every bit of it.' With this assurance Mr Wititterly took up the prostrate form
of Mrs Wititterly, and carried her bodily off to bed.
Kate waited until Sir Tumley Snuffim had paid his visit and looked in with a
report, that, through the special interposition of a merciful Providence (thus
spake Sir Tumley), Mrs Wititterly had gone to sleep. She then hastily attired
herself for walking, and leaving word that she should return within a couple of
hours, hurried away towards her uncle's house.
It had been a good day with Ralph Nickleby -- quite a lucky day; and as he
walked to and fro in his little back-room with his hands clasped behind him,
adding up in his own mind all the sums that had been, or would be, netted from
the business done since morning, his mouth was drawn into a hard stern smile;
while the firmness of the lines and curves that made it up, as well as the
cunning glance of his cold, bright eye, seemed to tell, that if any resolution
or cunning would increase the profits, they would not fail to be excited for the
purpose.
`Very good!' said Ralph, in allusion, no doubt, to some proceeding of the
day. `He defies the usurer, does he? Well, we shall see. "Honesty is the best
policy," is it? We'll try that too.'
He stopped, and then walked on again.
`He is content,' said Ralph, relaxing into a smile, `to set his known
character and conduct against the power of money -- dross, as he calls it. Why,
what a dull blockhead this fellow must be! Dross too -- dross! -- Who's that?'
`Me,' said Newman Noggs, looking in. `Your niece.'
`What of her?' asked Ralph sharply.
`She's here.'
`Here!'
Newman jerked his head towards his little room, to signify that she was
waiting there.
`What does she want?' asked Ralph.
`I don't know,' rejoined Newman. `Shall I ask?' he added quickly.
`No,' replied Ralph. `Show her in -- stay.' He hastily put away a padlocked
cash-box that was on the table, and substituted in its stead an empty purse.
`There,' said Ralph. `Now she may come in.'
Newman, with a grim smile at this manoeuvre, beckoned the young lady to
advance, and having placed a chair for her, retired; looking stealthily over his
shoulder at Ralph as he limped slowly out.
`Well,' said Ralph, roughly enough; but still with something more of kindness
in his manner than he would have exhibited towards anybody else. `Well, my --
dear. What now?'
Kate raised her eyes, which were filled with tears; and with an effort to
master her emotion strove to speak, but in vain. So drooping her head again, she
remained silent. Her face was hidden from his view, but Ralph could see that she
was weeping.
`I can guess the cause of this!' thought Ralph, after looking at her for some
time in silence. `I can -- I can guess the cause. Well! Well!' -- thought Ralph
-- for the moment quite disconcerted, as he watched the anguish of his beautiful
niece. `Where is the harm? only a few tears; and it's an excellent lesson for
her -- an excellent lesson.'
`What is the matter?' asked Ralph, drawing a chair opposite, and sitting
down.
He was rather taken aback by the sudden firmness with which Kate looked up
and answered him.
`The matter which brings me to you, sir,' she said, `is one which should call
the blood up into your cheeks, and make you burn to hear, as it does me to tell.
I have been wronged; my feelings have been outraged, insulted, wounded past all
healing, and by your friends.'
`Friends!' cried Ralph, sternly. `I have no friends, girl.'
`By the men I saw here, then,' returned Kate, quickly. `If they were no
friends of yours, and you knew what they were, -- oh, the more shame on you,
uncle, for bringing me among them. To have subjected me to what I was exposed to
here, through any misplaced confidence or imperfect knowledge of your guests,
would have required some strong excuse; but if you did it -- as I now believe
you did -- knowing them well, it was most dastardly and cruel.'
Ralph drew back in utter amazement at this plain speaking, and regarded Kate
with the sternest look. But she met his gaze proudly and firmly, and although
her face was very pale, it looked more noble and handsome, lighted up as it was,
than it had ever appeared before.
`There is some of that boy's blood in you, I see,' said Ralph, speaking in
his harshest tones, as something in the flashing eye reminded him of Nicholas at
their last meeting.
`I hope there is!' replied Kate. `I should be proud to know it. I am young,
uncle, and all the difficulties and miseries of my situation have kept it down,
but I have been roused today beyond all endurance, and come what may, I will
not, as I am your brother's child, bear these insults longer.'
`What insults, girl?' demanded Ralph, sharply.
`Remember what took place here, and ask yourself,' replied Kate, colouring
deeply. `Uncle, you must -- I am sure you will -- release me from such vile and
degrading companionship as I am exposed to now. I do not mean,' said Kate,
hurrying to the old man, and laying her arm upon his shoulder; `I do not mean to
be angry and violent -- I beg your pardon if I have seemed so, dear uncle, --
but you do not know what I have suffered, you do not indeed. You cannot tell
what the heart of a young girl is -- I have no right to expect you should; but
when I tell you that I am wretched, and that my heart is breaking, I am sure you
will help me. I am sure, I am sure you will!'
Ralph looked at her for an instant; then turned away his head, and beat his
foot nervously upon the ground.
`I have gone on day after day,' said Kate, bending over him, and timidly
placing her little hand in his, `in the hope that this persecution would cease;
I have gone on day after day, compelled to assume the appearance of
cheerfulness, when I was most unhappy. I have had no counsellor, no adviser, no
one to protect me. Mamma supposes that these are honourable men, rich and
distinguished, and how can I -- how can I undeceive her -- when she is so happy
in these little delusions, which are the only happiness she has? The lady with
whom you placed me, is not the person to whom I could confide matters of so much
delicacy, and I have come at last to you, the only friend I have at hand --
almost the only friend I have at all -- to entreat and implore you to assist
me.'
`How can I assist you, child?' said Ralph, rising from his chair, and pacing
up and down the room in his old attitude.
`You have influence with one of these men, I know,' rejoined Kate,
emphatically. `Would not a word from you induce them to desist from this unmanly
course?'
`No,' said Ralph, suddenly turning; `at least -- that -- I can't say it, if
it would.'
`Can't say it!'
`No,' said Ralph, coming to a dead stop, and clasping his hands more tightly
behind him. `I can't say it.'
Kate fell back a step or two, and looked at him, as if in doubt whether she
had heard aright.
`We are connected in business,' said Ralph, poising himself alternately on
his toes and heels, and looking coolly in his niece's face, `in business, and I
can't afford to offend them. What is it after all? We have all our trials, and
this is one of yours. Some girls would be proud to have such gallants at their
feet.'
`Proud!' cried Kate.
`I don't say,' rejoined Ralph, raising his forefinger, `but that you do right
to despise them; no, you show your good sense in that, as indeed I knew from the
first you would. Well. In all other respects you are comfortably bestowed. It's
not much to bear. If this young lord does dog your footsteps, and whisper his
drivelling inanities in your ears, what of it? It's a dishonourable passion. So
be it; it won't last long. Some other novelty will spring up one day, and you
will be released. In the meantime --'
`In the meantime,' interrupted Kate, with becoming pride and indignation, `I
am to be the scorn of my own sex, and the toy of the other; justly condemned by
all women of right feeling, and despised by all honest and honourable men;
sunken in my own esteem, and degraded in every eye that looks upon me. No, not
if I work my fingers to the bone, not if I am driven to the roughest and hardest
labour. Do not mistake me. I will not disgrace your recommendation. I will
remain in the house in which it placed me, until I am entitled to leave it by
the terms of my engagement; -- though, mind, I see these men no more. When I
quit it, I will hide myself from them and you, and, striving to support my
mother by hard service, I will live, at least, in peace, and trust in God to
help me.'
With these words, she waved her hand, and quitted the room, leaving Ralph
Nickleby motionless as a statue.
The surprise with which Kate, as she closed the room-door, beheld, close
beside it, Newman Noggs standing bolt upright in a little niche in the wall like
some scarecrow or Guy Faux laid up in winter quarters, almost occasioned her to
call aloud. But, Newman laying his finger upon his lips, she had the presence of
mind to refrain.
`Don't,' said Newman, gliding out of his recess, and accompanying her across
the hall. `Don't cry, don't cry.' Two very large tears, by-the-bye, were running
down Newman's face as he spoke.
`I see how it is,' said poor Noggs, drawing from his pocket what seemed to be
a very old duster, and wiping Kate's eyes with it, as gently as if she were an
infant. `You're giving way now. Yes, yes, very good; that's right, I like that.
It was right not to give way before him. Yes, yes! Ha, ha, ha! Oh, yes. Poor
thing!'
With these disjointed exclamations, Newman wiped his own eyes with the
afore-mentioned duster, and, limping to the street-door, opened it to let her
out.
`Don't cry any more,' whispered Newman. `I shall see you soon. Ha! ha! ha!
And so shall somebody else too. Yes, yes. Ho! ho!'
`God bless you,' answered Kate, hurrying out, `God bless you.'
`Same to you,' rejoined Newman, opening the door again a little way to say
so. `Ha, ha, ha! Ho! ho! ho!'
And Newman Noggs opened the door once again to nod cheerfully, and laugh --
and shut it, to shake his head mournfully, and cry.
Ralph remained in the same attitude till he heard the noise of the closing
door, when he shrugged his shoulders, and after a few turns about the room --
hasty at first, but gradually becoming slower, as he relapsed into himself --
sat down before his desk.
It is one of those problems of human nature, which may be noted down, but not
solved; -- although Ralph felt no remorse at that moment for his conduct towards
the innocent, true-hearted girl; although his libertine clients had done
precisely what he had expected, precisely what he most wished, and precisely
what would tend most to his advantage, still he hated them for doing it, from
the very bottom of his soul.
`Ugh!' said Ralph, scowling round, and shaking his clenched hand as the faces
of the two profligates rose up before his mind; `you shall pay for this. Oh! you
shall pay for this!'
As the usurer turned for consolation to his books and papers, a performance
was going on outside his office door, which would have occasioned him no small
surprise, if he could by any means have become acquainted with it.
Newman Noggs was the sole actor. He stood at a little distance from the door,
with his face towards it; and with the sleeves of his coat turned back at the
wrists, was occupied in bestowing the most vigorous, scientific, and
straightforward blows upon the empty air.
At first sight, this would have appeared merely a wise precaution in a man of
sedentary habits, with the view of opening the chest and strengthening the
muscles of the arms. But the intense eagerness and joy depicted in the face of
Newman Noggs, which was suffused with perspiration; the surprising energy with
which he directed a constant succession of blows towards a particular panel
about five feet eight from the ground, and still worked away in the most
untiring and persevering manner, would have sufficiently explained to the
attentive observer, that his imagination was thrashing, to within an inch of his
life, his body's most active employer, Mr Ralph Nickleby.
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