Chronicles the further Proceedings of the NicklebyFamily, and the Sequel of the Adventure of theGentleman in the Small-clothes.
While Nicholas, absorbed in the one engrossing subject ofinterest which had recently opened upon him, occupiedhis leisure hours with thoughts of Madeline Bray, andin execution of the commissions which the anxiety of brotherCharles in her behalf imposed upon him, saw her again and again,and each time with greater danger to his peace of mind and amore weakening effect upon the lofty resolutions he had formed,Mrs Nickleby and Kate continued to live in peace and quiet,agitated by no other cares than those which were connected withcertain 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 themand Nicholas considerable uneasiness, and even alarm.
It was no complaint or murmur on the part of the poor fellowhimself that thus disturbed them. Ever eager to be employed insuch slight services as he could render, and always anxious torepay his benefactors with cheerful and happy looks, less friendlyeyes might have seen in him no cause for any misgiving. But therewere times, and often too, when the sunken eye was too bright, thehollow cheek too flushed, the breath too thick and heavy in itscourse, the frame too 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;a dread 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, sothat the spirit grows light and sanguine with its lightening load,and, feeling immortality at hand, deems it but a new term ofmortal life; a disease in which death and life are so strangelyblended, that death takes the glow and hue of life, and life thegaunt and grisly form of death; a disease which medicine nevercured, wealth never warded off, or poverty could boast exemptionfrom; which sometimes moves in giant strides, and sometimes at atardy sluggish pace, but, slow or quick, is ever sure and certain.
It was with some faint reference in his own mind to thisdisorder, though he would by no means admit it, even to himself,that Nicholas had already carried his faithful companion to aphysician of great repute. There was no cause for immediatealarm, he said. There were no present symptoms which could bedeemed conclusive. The constitution had been greatly tried andinjured in childhood, but still it might not be—and that was all.
But he seemed to grow no worse, and, as it was not difficult tofind a reason for these symptoms of illness in the shock andagitation he had recently undergone, Nicholas comforted himselfwith the hope that his poor friend would soon recover. This hopehis mother and sister shared with him; and as the object of theirjoint solicitude seemed to have no uneasiness or despondency forhimself, but each day answered with a quiet smile that he felt better than he had upon the day before, their fears abated, and thegeneral happiness was by degrees restored.
Many and many a time in after years did Nicholas look back tothis period of his life, and tread again the humble quiet homelyscenes that rose up as of old before him. Many and many a time, inthe twilight of a summer evening, or beside the flickering winter’sfire—but not so often or so sadly then—would his thoughtswander back to these old days, and dwell with a pleasant sorrowupon every slight remembrance which they brought crowdinghome. The little room in which they had so often sat long after itwas dark, figuring such happy futures; Kate’s cheerful voice andmerry laugh; how, if she were from home, they used to sit andwatch for her return scarcely breaking silence but to say how dullit seemed without her; the glee with which poor Smike would startfrom the darkened corner where he used to sit, and hurry to admither, and the tears they often saw upon his face, half wondering tosee them too, and he so pleased and happy; every little incident,and even slight words and looks of those old days little heededthen, but well remembered when busy cares and trials were quiteforgotten, came fresh and thick before him many and many a time,and, rustling above the dusty growth of years, came back greenboughs of yesterday.
But there were other persons associated with theserecollections, and many changes came about before they hadbeing. A necessary reflection for the purposes of these adventures,which at once subside into their accustomed train, and shunningall flighty anticipations or wayward wanderings, pursue theirsteady and decorous course.
If the brothers Cheeryble, as they found Nicholas worthy of trust and confidence, bestowed upon him every day some new andsubstantial mark of kindness, they were not less mindful of thosewho depended on him. Various little presents to Mrs Nickleby,always of the very things they most required, tended in no slightdegree to the improvement and embellishment of the cottage.
Kate’s little store of trinkets became quite dazzling; and forcompany! If brother Charles and brother Ned failed to look in forat least a few minutes every Sunday, or one evening in the week,there was Mr Tim Linkinwater (who had never made half-a-dozenother acquaintances in all his life, and who took such delight in hisnew friends as no words can express) constantly coming and goingin his evening walks, and stopping to rest; while Mr FrankCheeryble happened, by some strange conjunction ofcircumstances, to be passing the door on some business or other atleast 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-namedgentleman had been the subject of the worthy lady’s eulogium forsome 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 quiteflushed!’
‘Oh, mama! what strange things you fancy!’
‘It wasn’t fancy, Kate, my dear, I’m certain of that,’ returnedher mother. ‘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; and this time beyond all dispute.
‘Not serious!’ returned Mrs Nickleby; ‘why shouldn’t I beserious? I’m sure I never was more serious. I will say that hispoliteness and attention to me is one of the most becoming,gratifying, pleasant things I have seen for a very long time. Youdon’t often meet with such behaviour in young men, and it strikesone more when one does meet with it.’
‘Oh! attention to you, mama,’ rejoined Kate quickly—‘oh yes.’
‘Dear me, Kate,’ retorted Mrs Nickleby, ‘what an extraordinarygirl you 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,’
returned Kate. ‘Don’t you remember his saying so that very firstnight he came here? Besides,’ she added, in a more gentle tone,‘why should we 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’tknow what. I shall tell him point-blank next time he comes, that Iwish he would marry one of his own country-women; and see whathe says to that.’
‘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 hereyes in great astonishment.
Before Kate had returned any reply, a queer little double knockannounced that Miss La Creevy had called to see them; and whenMiss La Creevy presented herself, Mrs Nickleby, though strongly disposed to be argumentative on the previous question, forgot allabout it in a gush of supposes about the coach she had come by;supposing that the man who drove must have been either the manin the shirt-sleeves or the man with the black eye; that whoever hewas, he hadn’t found that parasol she left inside last week; that nodoubt they had stopped a long while at the Halfway House, comingdown; or that perhaps being full, they had come straight on; and,lastly, that they, 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 cominghere,’ 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 little woman,looking about, after having glanced slyly at Kate. ‘He has not beenrun 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’sunbounded astonishment, that Smike had, that moment, goneupstairs to bed.
‘Well now,’ said Mrs Nickleby, ‘he is the strangest creature!
Last Tuesday—was it Tuesday? Yes, to be sure it was; yourecollect, Kate, my dear, the very last time young Mr Cheeryble was here—last Tuesday night he went off in just the same strangeway, at the very moment the knock came to the door. It cannot bethat he don’t like company, because he is always fond of peoplewho are fond of Nicholas, and I am sure young Mr Cheeryble is.
And the strangest thing is, that he does not go to bed; therefore itcannot be because he is tired. I know he doesn’t go to bed, becausemy room is the next one, and when I went upstairs last Tuesday,hours after him, I found that he had not even taken his shoes off;and he had no candle, so he must have sat moping in the dark allthe time. Now, upon my word,’ said Mrs Nickleby, ‘when I come tothink of it, that’s very extraordinary!’
As the hearers did not echo this sentiment, but remainedprofoundly silent, either as not knowing what to say, or as beingunwilling to interrupt, Mrs Nickleby pursued the thread of herdiscourse after her own fashion.
‘I hope,’ said that lady, ‘that this unaccountable conduct maynot be 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-grandfatherwho went to school with the Cock-lane Ghost, or the ThirstyWoman of Tutbury who went to school with my grandmother.
Miss La Creevy, you know, of course. Which was it that didn’tmind what the clergyman said? The Cock-lane Ghost or theThirsty Woman of Tutbury?’
‘The Cock-lane Ghost, I believe.’
‘Then I have no doubt,’ said Mrs Nickleby, ‘that it was with himmy great-grandfather went to school; for I know the master of his school was a dissenter, and that would, in a great measure,account for the Cock-lane Ghost’s behaving in such an impropermanner to the clergyman when he grew up. Ah! Train up aGhost—child, I mean—’
Any further reflections on this fruitful theme were abruptly cutshort by the arrival of Tim Linkinwater and Mr Frank Cheeryble;in the 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 yougo so soon; Nicholas would be very much vexed, I am sure. Kate,my dear!’
In obedience to a great number of nods, and winks, and frownsof extra 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 toher cheek was from diminishing her beauty, was obvious at aglance even to Mrs Nickleby. Not being of a very speculativecharacter, however, save under circumstances when herspeculations could be put into words and uttered aloud, thatdiscreet matron attributed the emotion to the circumstance of herdaughter’s not happening to have her best frock on: ‘though Inever saw her look better, certainly,’ she reflected at the same time. Having settled the question in this way, and being mostcomplacently satisfied that in this, and in all other instances, herconjecture could not fail to be the right one, Mrs Nicklebydismissed it from her thoughts, and inwardly congratulatedherself on being so shrewd and knowing.
Nicholas did not come home nor did Smike reappear; butneither circumstance, to say the truth, had any great effect uponthe little party, who were all in the best humour possible. Indeed,there sprung up quite a flirtation between Miss La Creevy andTim Linkinwater, who said a thousand jocose and facetious things,and became, by degrees, quite gallant, not to say tender. LittleMiss La Creevy, on her part, was in high spirits, and rallied Timon having remained a bachelor all his life with so much success,that Tim was actually induced to declare, that if he could getanybody to have him, he didn’t know but what he might changehis condition even yet. Miss La Creevy earnestly recommended alady she knew, who would exactly suit Mr Linkinwater, and had avery comfortable property of her own; but this latter qualificationhad very little effect upon Tim, who manfully protested thatfortune would be no object with him, but that true worth andcheerfulness of disposition were what a man should look for in awife, and that if he had these, he could find money enough for themoderate wants of both. This avowal was considered sohonourable to Tim, that neither Mrs Nickleby nor Miss La Creevycould sufficiently extol it; and stimulated by their praises, Timlaunched out into several other declarations also manifesting thedisinterestedness of his heart, and a great devotion to the fair sex:
which were received with no less approbation. This was done andsaid with a comical mixture of jest and earnest, and, leading to a great amount of laughter, made them very merry indeed.
Kate was commonly the life and soul of the conversation athome; but she was more silent than usual upon this occasion(perhaps because Tim and Miss La Creevy engrossed so much ofit), and, keeping aloof from the talkers, sat at the window watchingthe shadows as the evening closed in, and enjoying the quietbeauty of the night, which seemed to have scarcely less attractionsto Frank, who first lingered near, and then sat down beside, her.
No doubt, there are a great many things to be said appropriate to asummer evening, and no doubt they are best said in a low voice, asbeing most suitable to the peace and serenity of the hour; longpauses, too, at times, and then an earnest word or so, and thenanother interval of silence which, somehow, does not seem likesilence either, and perhaps now and then a hasty turning away ofthe head, or drooping of the eyes towards the ground, all theseminor circumstances, with a disinclination to have candlesintroduced and a tendency to confuse hours with minutes, aredoubtless mere influences of the time, as many lovely lips canclearly testify. Neither is there the slightest reason why MrsNickleby should have expressed surprise when, candles being atlength brought in, Kate’s bright eyes were unable to bear the lightwhich obliged her to avert her face, and even to leave the room forsome short time; because, when one has sat in the dark so long,candles are dazzling, and nothing can be more strictly naturalthan that such results should be produced, as all well-informedyoung people know. For that matter, old people know it too, or didknow it once, but they forget these things sometimes, and more’sthe pity.
The good lady’s surprise, however, did not end here. It was greatly increased when it was discovered that Kate had not theleast appetite 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 attentionhad not been attracted, at the moment, by a very strange anduncommon noise, proceeding, as the pale and trembling servantgirl affirmed, and as everybody’s sense of hearing seemed toaffirm also, ‘right down’ 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 noisedid nevertheless proceed from the chimney in question; and thenoise (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 TimLinkinwater the tongs, and they would have very quicklyascertained the cause of this disturbance if Mrs Nickleby had notbeen taken very faint, and declined being left behind, on anyaccount. This produced a short remonstrance, which terminatedin their all proceeding to the troubled chamber in a body,excepting only Miss La Creevy, who, as the servant girlvolun............