Hello,Welcome!Log In to My AccountorCreate Account

There are many lives of much pain, hardship, and suffering, which,having no stirring interest for any but those who lead them, aredisregarded by persons who do not want thought or feeling, but whopamper their compassion and need high stimulants to rouse it.

There are not a few among the disciples of charity who require, in theirvocation, scarcely less excitement than the votaries of pleasure intheirs; and hence it is that diseased sympathy and compassion are everyday expended on out-of-the-way objects, when only too many demands uponthe legitimate exercise of the same virtues in a healthy state, areconstantly within the sight and hearing of the most unobservant personalive. In short, charity must have its romance, as the novelist orplaywright must have his. A thief in fustian is a vulgar character,scarcely to be thought of by persons of refinement; but dress him ingreen velvet, with a high-crowned hat, and change the scene of hisoperations, from a thickly-peopled city, to a mountain road, and youshall find in him the very soul of poetry and adventure. So it is withthe one great cardinal virtue, which, properly nourished and exercised,leads to, if it does not necessarily include, all the others. It musthave its romance; and the less of real, hard, struggling work-a-day lifethere is in that romance, the better.

The life to which poor Kate Nickleby was devoted, in consequence of theunforeseen train of circumstances already developed in this narrative,was a hard one; but lest the very dulness, unhealthy confinement, andbodily fatigue, which made up its sum and substance, should deprive itof any interest with the mass of the charitable and sympathetic, I wouldrather keep Miss Nickleby herself in view just now, than chill them inthe outset, by a minute and lengthened description of the establishmentpresided over by Madame Mantalini.

'Well, now, indeed, Madame Mantalini,' said Miss Knag, as Kate wastaking her weary way homewards on the first night of her novitiate;'that Miss Nickleby is a very creditable young person--a very creditableyoung person indeed--hem--upon my word, Madame Mantalini, it does veryextraordinary credit even to your discrimination that you shouldhave found such a very excellent, very well-behaved, very--hem--veryunassuming young woman to assist in the fitting on. I have seen someyoung women when they had the opportunity of displaying before theirbetters, behave in such a--oh, dear--well--but you're always right,Madame Mantalini, always; and as I very often tell the young ladies,how you do contrive to be always right, when so many people are so oftenwrong, is to me a mystery indeed.'

'Beyond putting a very excellent client out of humour, Miss Nickleby hasnot done anything very remarkable today--that I am aware of, at least,'said Madame Mantalini in reply.

'Oh, dear!' said Miss Knag; 'but you must allow a great deal forinexperience, you know.'

'And youth?' inquired Madame.

'Oh, I say nothing about that, Madame Mantalini,' replied Miss Knag,reddening; 'because if youth were any excuse, you wouldn't have--'

'Quite so good a forewoman as I have, I suppose,' suggested Madame.

'Well, I never did know anybody like you, Madame Mantalini,' rejoinedMiss Knag most complacently, 'and that's the fact, for you know whatone's going to say, before it has time to rise to one's lips. Oh, verygood! Ha, ha, ha!'

'For myself,' observed Madame Mantalini, glancing with affectedcarelessness at her assistant, and laughing heartily in her sleeve, 'Iconsider Miss Nickleby the most awkward girl I ever saw in my life.'

'Poor dear thing,' said Miss Knag, 'it's not her fault. If it was, wemight hope to cure it; but as it's her misfortune, Madame Mantalini,why really you know, as the man said about the blind horse, we ought torespect it.'

'Her uncle told me she had been considered pretty,' remarked MadameMantalini. 'I think her one of the most ordinary girls I ever met with.'

'Ordinary!' cried Miss Knag with a countenance beaming delight; 'andawkward! Well, all I can say is, Madame Mantalini, that I quite love thepoor girl; and that if she was twice as indifferent-looking, and twiceas awkward as she is, I should be only so much the more her friend, andthat's the truth of it.'

In fact, Miss Knag had conceived an incipient affection for KateNickleby, after witnessing her failure that morning, and this shortconversation with her superior increased the favourable prepossessionto a most surprising extent; which was the more remarkable, as when shefirst scanned that young lady's face and figure, she had entertainedcertain inward misgivings that they would never agree.

'But now,' said Miss Knag, glancing at the reflection of herself in amirror at no great distance, 'I love her--I quite love her--I declare Ido!'

Of such a highly disinterested quality was this devoted friendship, andso superior was it to the little weaknesses of flattery or ill-nature,that the kind-hearted Miss Knag candidly informed Kate Nickleby, nextday, that she saw she would never do for the business, but that she neednot give herself the slightest uneasiness on this account, for that she(Miss Knag), by increased exertions on her own part, would keep her asmuch as possible in the background, and that all she would have to do,would be to remain perfectly quiet before company, and to shrink fromattracting notice by every means in her power. This last suggestion wasso much in accordance with the timid girl's own feelings and wishes,that she readily promised implicit reliance on the excellent spinster'sadvice: without questioning, or indeed bestowing a moment's reflectionupon, the motives that dictated it.

'I take quite a lively interest in you, my dear soul, upon my word,'said Miss Knag; 'a sister's interest, actually. It's the most singularcircumstance I ever knew.'

Undoubtedly it was singular, that if Miss Knag did feel a stronginterest in Kate Nickleby, it should not rather have been the interestof a maiden aunt or grandmother; that being the conclusion to which thedifference in their respective ages would have naturally tended. ButMiss Knag wore clothes of a very youthful pattern, and perhaps herfeelings took the same shape.

'Bless you!' said Miss Knag, bestowing a kiss upon Kate at theconclusion of the second day's work, 'how very awkward you have been allday.'

'I fear your kind and open communication, which has rendered me morepainfully conscious of my own defects, has not improved me,' sighedKate.

'No, no, I dare say not,' rejoined Miss Knag, in a most uncommon flow ofgood humour. 'But how much better that you should know it at first,and so be able to go on, straight and comfortable! Which way are youwalking, my love?'

'Towards the city,' replied Kate.

'The city!' cried Miss Knag, regarding herself with great favour in theglass as she tied her bonnet. 'Goodness gracious me! now do you reallylive in the city?'

'Is it so very unusual for anybody to live there?' asked Kate, halfsmiling.

'I couldn't have believed it possible that any young woman could havelived there, under any circumstances whatever, for three days together,'replied Miss Knag.

'Reduced--I should say poor people,' answered Kate, correcting herselfhastily, for she was afraid of appearing proud, 'must live where theycan.'

'Ah! very true, so they must; very proper indeed!' rejoined Miss Knagwith that sort of half-sigh, which, accompanied by two or three slightnods of the head, is pity's small change in general society; 'and that'swhat I very often tell my brother, when our servants go away ill, oneafter another, and he thinks the back-kitchen's rather too damp for'em to sleep in. These sort of people, I tell him, are glad to sleepanywhere! Heaven suits the back to the burden. What a nice thing it isto think that it should be so, isn't it?'

'Very,' replied Kate.

'I'll walk with you part of the way, my dear,' said Miss Knag, 'foryou must go very near our house; and as it's quite dark, and our lastservant went to the hospital a week ago, with St Anthony's fire in herface, I shall be glad of your company.'

Kate would willingly have excused herself from this flatteringcompanionship; but Miss Knag having adjusted her bonnet to her entiresatisfaction, took her arm with an air which plainly showed how muchshe felt the compliment she was conferring, and they were in the streetbefore she could say another word.

'I fear,' said Kate, hesitating, 'that mama--my mother, I mean--iswaiting for me.'

'You needn't make the least apology, my dear,' said Miss Knag, smilingsweetly as she spoke; 'I dare say she is a very respectable old person,and I shall be quite--hem--quite pleased to know her.'

As poor Mrs Nickleby was cooling--not her heels alone, but her limbsgenerally at the street corner, Kate had no alternative but to makeher known to Miss Knag, who, doing the last new carriage customerat second-hand, acknowledged the introduction with condescendingpoliteness. The three then walked away, arm in arm: with Miss Knag inthe middle, in a special state of amiability.

'I have taken such a fancy to your daughter, Mrs Nickleby, you can'tthink,' said Miss Knag, after she had proceeded a little distance indignified silence.

'I am delighted to hear it,' said Mrs Nickleby; 'though it is nothingnew to me, that even strangers should like Kate.'

'Hem!' cried Miss Knag.

'You will like her better when you know how good she is,' said MrsNickleby. 'It is a great blessing to me, in my misfortunes, to have achild, who knows neither pride nor vanity, and whose bringing-up mightvery well have excused a little of both at first. You don't know what itis to lose a husband, Miss Knag.'

As Miss Knag had never yet known what it was to gain one, it followed,very nearly as a matter of course, that she didn't know what it was tolose one; so she said, in some haste, 'No, indeed I don't,' and said itwith an air intending to signify that she should like to catch herselfmarrying anybody--no, no, she knew better than that.

'Kate has improved even in this little time, I have no doubt,' said MrsNickleby, glancing proudly at her daughter.

'Oh! of course,' said Miss Knag.

'And will improve still more,' added Mrs Nickleby.

'That she will, I'll be bound,' replied Miss Knag, squeezing Kate's armin her own, to point the joke.

'She always was clever,' said poor Mrs Nickleby, brightening up,'always, from a baby. I recollect when she was only two years and ahalf old, that a gentleman who used to visit very much at our house--MrWatkins, you know, Kate, my dear, that your poor papa went bail for,who afterwards ran away to the United States, and sent us a pair ofsnow shoes, with such an affectionate letter that it made your poor dearfather cry for a week. You remember the letter? In which he said that hewas very sorry he couldn't repay the fifty pounds just then, becausehis capital was all out at interest, and he was very busy making hisfortune, but that he didn't forget you were his god-daughter, and heshould take it very unkind if we didn't buy you a silver coral and putit down to his old account? Dear me, yes, my dear, how stupid you are!and spoke so affectionately of the old port wine that he used to drink abottle and a half of every time he came. You must remember, Kate?'

'Yes, yes, mama; what of him?'

'Why, that Mr Watkins, my dear,' said Mrs Nickleby slowly, as if shewere making a tremendous effort to recollect something of paramountimportance; 'that Mr Watkins--he wasn't any relation, Miss Knag willunderstand, to the Watkins who kept the Old Boar in the village;by-the-bye, I don't remember whether it was the Old Boar or theGeorge the Third, but it was one of the two, I know, and it's much thesame--that Mr Watkins said, when you were only two years and a half old,that you were one of the most astonishing children he ever saw. He didindeed, Miss Knag, and he wasn't at all fond of children, and couldn'thave had the slightest motive for doing it. I know it was he who saidso, because I recollect, as well as if it was only yesterday,his borrowing twenty pounds of her poor dear papa the very momentafterwards.'

Having quoted this extraordinary and most disinterested testimony to herdaughter's excellence, Mrs Nickleby stopped to breathe; and Miss Knag,finding that the discourse was turning upon family greatness, lost notime in striking in, with a small reminiscence on her own account.

'Don't talk of lending money, Mrs Nickleby,' said Miss Knag, 'or you'lldrive me crazy, perfectly crazy. My mama--hem--was the most lovely andbeautiful creature, with the most striking and exquisite--hem--the mostexquisite nose that ever was put upon a human face, I do believe, MrsNickleby (here Miss Knag rubbed her own nose sympathetically); the mostdelightful and accomplished woman, perhaps, that ever was seen; but shehad that one failing of lending money, and carried it to such an extentthat she lent--hem--oh! thousands of pounds, all our little fortunes,and what's more, Mrs Nickleby, I don't think, if we were to livetill--till--hem--till the very end of time, that we should ever get themback again. I don't indeed.'

After concluding this effort of invention without being interrupted,Miss Knag fell into many more recollections, no less interesting thantrue, the full tide of which, Mrs Nickleby in vain attempting to stem,at length sailed smoothly down by adding an under-current of her ownrecollections; and so both ladies went on talking together in perfectcontentment; the only difference between them being, that whereas MissKnag addressed herself to Kate, and talked very loud, Mrs Nickleby kepton in one unbroken monotonous flow, perfectly satisfied to be talkingand caring very little whether anybody listened or not.

In this manner they walked on, very amicably, until they arrived at MissKnag's brother's, who was an ornamental stationer and small circulatinglibrary keeper, in a by-street off Tottenham Court Road; and who letout by the day, week, month, or year, the newest old novels, whereofthe titles were displayed in pen-and-ink characters on a sheet ofpasteboard, swinging at his door-post. As Miss Knag happened, at themoment, to be in the middle of an account of her twenty-second offerfrom a gentleman of large property, she insisted upon their all going into supper together; and in they went.

'Don't go away, Mortimer,' said Miss Knag as they entered the shop.'It's only one of our young ladies and her mother. Mrs and MissNickleby.'

'Oh, indeed!' said Mr Mortimer Knag. 'Ah!'

Having given utterance to these ejaculations with a very profoundand thoughtful air, Mr Knag slowly snuffed two kitchen candles on thecounter, and two more in the window, and then snuffed himself from a boxin his waistcoat pocket.

There was something very impressive in the ghostly air with whichall this was done; and as Mr Knag was a tall lank gentleman of solemnfeatures, wearing spectacles, and garnished with much less hair thana gentleman bordering on forty, or thereabouts, usually boasts, MrsNickleby whispered her daughter that she thought he must be literary.

'Past ten,' said Mr Knag, consulting his watch. 'Thomas, close thewarehouse.'

Thomas was a boy nearly half as tall as a shutter, and the warehouse wasa shop about the size of three hackney coaches.

'Ah!' said Mr Knag once more, heaving a deep sigh as he restored to itsparent shelf the book he had been reading. 'Well--yes--I believe supperis ready, sister.'

With another sigh Mr Knag took up the kitchen candles from the counter,and preceded the ladies with mournful steps to a back-parlour, where acharwoman, employed in the absence of the sick servant, and remuneratedwith certain eighteenpences to be deducted from her wages due, wasputting the supper out.

'Mrs Blockson,' said Miss Knag, reproachfully, 'how very often I havebegged you not to come into the room with your bonnet on!'

'I can't help it, Miss Knag,' said the charwoman, bridling up on theshortest notice. 'There's been a deal o'cleaning to do in this house,and if you don't like it, I must trouble you to look out for somebodyelse, for it don't hardly pay me, and that's the truth, if I was to behung this minute.'

'I don't want any remarks if YOU please,' said Miss Knag, with a strongemphasis on the personal pronoun. 'Is there any fire downstairs for somehot water presently?'

'No there is not, indeed, Miss Knag,' replied the substitute; 'and so Iwon't tell you no stories about it.'

'Then why isn't there?' said Miss Knag.

'Because there arn't no coals left out, and if I could make coals Iwould, but as I can't I won't, and so I make bold to tell you, Mem,'replied Mrs Blockson.

'Will you hold your tongue--female?' said Mr Mortimer Knag, plungingviolently into this dialogue.

'By your leave, Mr Knag,' retorted the charwoman, turning sharp round.'I'm only too glad not to speak in this house, excepting when and whereI'm spoke to, sir; and with regard to being a female, sir, I should wishto know what you considered yourself?'

'A miserable wretch,' exclaimed Mr Knag, striking his forehead. 'Amiserable wretch.'

'I'm very glad to find that you don't call yourself out of your name,sir,' said Mrs Blockson; 'and as I had two twin children the day beforeyesterday was only seven weeks, and my little Charley fell down a airyand put his elber out, last Monday, I shall take it as a favour ifyou'll send nine shillings, for one week's work, to my house, afore theclock strikes ten tomorrow.'

With these parting words, the good woman quitted the room with greatease of manner, leaving the door wide open; Mr Knag, at the same moment,flung himself into the 'warehouse,' and groaned aloud.

'What is the matter with that gentleman, pray?' inquired Mrs Nickleby,greatly disturbed by the sound.

'Is he ill?' inquired Kate, really alarmed.

'Hush!' replied Miss Knag; 'a most melancholy history. He was once mostdevotedly attached to--hem--to Madame Mantalini.'

'Bless me!' exclaimed Mrs Nickleby.

'Yes,' continued Miss Knag, 'and received great encouragement too,and confidently hoped to marry her. He has a most romantic heart,Mrs Nickleby, as indeed--hem--as indeed all our family have, and thedisappointment was a dreadful blow. He is a wonderfully accomplishedman--most extraordinarily accomplished--reads--hem--reads every novelthat comes out; I mean every novel that--hem--that has any fashion init, of course. The fact is, that he did find so much in the books heread, applicable to his own misfortunes, and did find himself in everyrespect so much like the heroes--because of course he is conscious ofhis own superiority, as we all are, and very naturally--that he took toscorning everything, and became a genius; and I am quite sure that heis, at this very present moment, writing another book.'

'Another book!' repeated Kate, finding that a pause was left forsomebody to say something.

'Yes,' said Miss Knag, nodding in great triumph; 'another book, in threevolumes post octavo. Of course it's a great advantage to him, in all hislittle fashionable descriptions, to have the benefit of my--hem--of myexperience, because, of course, few authors who write about such thingscan have such opportunities of knowing them as I have. He's so wrappedup in high life, that the least allusion to business or worldlymatters--like that woman just now, for instance--quite distracts him;but, as I often say, I think his disappointment a great thing for him,because if he hadn't been disappointed he couldn't have written aboutblighted hopes and all that; and the fact is, if it hadn't happened asit has, I don't believe his genius would ever have come out at all.'

How much more communicative Miss Knag might have become under morefavourable circumstances, it is impossible to divine, but as the gloomyone was within ear-shot, and the fire wanted making up, her disclosuresstopped here. To judge from all appearances, and the difficulty ofmaking the water warm, the last servant could not have been muchaccustomed to any other fire than St Anthony's; but a little brandy andwater was made at last, and the guests, having been previously regaledwith cold leg of mutton and bread and cheese, soon afterwards tookleave; Kate amusing herself, all the way home, with the recollection ofher last glimpse of Mr Mortimer Knag deeply abstracted in the shop; andMrs Nickleby by debating within herself whether the dressmaking firmwould ultimately become 'Mantalini, Knag, and Nickleby', or 'Mantalini,Nickleby, and Knag'.

At this high point, Miss Knag's friendship remained for three wholedays, much to the wonderment of Madame Mantalini's young ladies who hadnever beheld such constancy in that quarter, before; but on the fourth,it received a check no less violent than sudden, which thus occurred.

It happened that an old lord of great family, who was going to marry ayoung lady of no family in particular, came with the young lady, and theyoung lady's sister, to witness the ceremony of trying on two nuptialbonnets which had been ordered the day before, and Madame Mantaliniannouncing the fact, in a shrill treble, through the speaking-pipe,which communicated with the workroom, Miss Knag darted hastily upstairswith a bonnet in each hand, and presented herself in the show-room, in acharming state of palpitation, intended to demonstrate her enthusiasmin the cause. The bonnets were no sooner fairly on, than Miss Knag andMadame Mantalini fell into convulsions of admiration.

'A most elegant appearance,' said Madame Mantalini.

'I never saw anything so exquisite in all my life,' said Miss Knag.

Now, the old lord, who was a VERY old lord, said nothing, but mumbledand chuckled in a state of great delight, no less with the nuptialbonnets and their wearers, than with his own address in getting such afine woman for his wife; and the young lady, who was a very lively younglady, seeing the old lord in this rapturous condition, chased the oldlord behind a cheval-glass, and then and there kissed him, while MadameMantalini and the other young lady looked, discreetly, another way.

But, pending the salutation, Miss Knag, who was tinged with curiosity,stepped accidentally behind the glass, and encountered the lively younglady's eye just at the very moment when she kissed the old lord; uponwhich the young lady, in a pouting manner, murmured something about 'anold thing,' and 'great impertinence,' and finished by darting a look ofdispleasure at Miss Knag, and smiling contemptuously.

'Madame Mantalini,' said the young lady.

'Ma'am,' said Madame Mantalini.

'Pray have up that pretty young creature we saw yesterday.'

'Oh yes, do,' said the sister.

'Of all things in the world, Madame Mantalini,' said the lord'sintended, throwing herself languidly on a sofa, 'I hate being waitedupon by frights or elderly persons. Let me always see that youngcreature, I beg, whenever I come.'

'By all means,' said the old lord; 'the lovely young creature, by allmeans.'

'Everybody is talking about her,' said the young lady, in the samecareless manner; 'and my lord, being a great admirer of beauty, mustpositively see her.'

'She IS universally admired,' replied Madame Mantalini. 'Miss Knag, sendup Miss Nickleby. You needn't return.'

'I beg your pardon, Madame Mantalini, what did you say last?' asked MissKnag, trembling.

'You needn't return,' repeated the superior, sharply. Miss Knag vanishedwithout another word, and in all reasonable time was replaced by Kate,who took off the new bonnets and put on the old ones: blushing very muchto find that the old lord and the two young ladies were staring her outof countenance all the time.

'Why, how you colour, child!' said the lord's chosen bride.

'She is not quite so accustomed to her business, as she will be in aweek or two,' interposed Madame Mantalini with a gracious smile.

'I am afraid you have been giving her some of your wicked looks, mylord,' said the intended.

'No, no, no,' replied the old lord, 'no, no, I'm going to be married,and lead a new life. Ha, ha, ha! a new life, a new life! ha, ha, ha!'

It was a satisfactory thing to hear that the old gentleman was going tolead a new life, for it was pretty evident that his old one would notlast him much longer. The mere exertion of protracted chuckling reducedhim to a fearful ebb of coughing and gasping; it was some minutesbefore he could find breath to remark that the girl was too pretty for amilliner.

'I hope you don't think good looks a disqualification for the business,my lord,' said Madame Mantalini, simpering.

'Not by any means,' replied the old lord, 'or you would have left itlong ago.'

'You naughty creature,' said the lively lady, poking the peer with herparasol; 'I won't have you talk so. How dare you?'

This playful inquiry was accompanied with another poke, and another,and then the old lord caught the parasol, and wouldn't give it up again,which induced the other lady to come to the rescue, and some very prettysportiveness ensued.

'You will see that those little alterations are made, Madame Mantalini,'said the lady. 'Nay, you bad man, you positively shall go first; Iwouldn't leave you behind with that pretty girl, not for half a second.I know you too well. Jane, my dear, let him go first, and we shall bequite sure of him.'

The old lord, evidently much flattered by this suspicion, bestowed agrotesque leer upon Kate as he passed; and, receiving another tap withthe parasol for his wickedness, tottered downstairs to the door, wherehis sprightly body was hoisted into the carriage by two stout footmen.

'Foh!' said Madame Mantalini, 'how he ever gets into a carriage withoutthinking of a hearse, I can't think. There, take the things away, mydear, take them away.'

Kate, who had remained during the whole scene with her eyes modestlyfixed upon the ground, was only too happy to avail herself of thepermission to retire, and hasten joyfully downstairs to Miss Knag'sdominion.

The circumstances of the little kingdom had greatly changed, however,during the short period of her absence. In place of Miss Knag beingstationed in her accustomed seat, preserving all the dignity andgreatness of Madame Mantalini's representative, that worthy soul wasreposing on a large box, bathed in tears, while three or four of theyoung ladies in close attendance upon her, together with the presenceof hartshorn, vinegar, and other restoratives, would have borne ampletestimony, even without the derangement of the head-dress and front rowof curls, to her having fainted desperately.

'Bless me!' said Kate, stepping hastily forward, 'what is the matter?'

This inquiry produced in Miss Knag violent symptoms of a relapse; andseveral young ladies, darting angry looks at Kate, applied more vinegarand hartshorn, and said it was 'a shame.'

'What is a shame?' demanded Kate. 'What is the matter? What hashappened? tell me.'

'Matter!' cried Miss Knag, coming, all at once, bolt upright, to thegreat consternation of the assembled maidens; 'matter! Fie upon you, younasty creature!'

'Gracious!' cried Kate, almost paralysed by the violence with which theadjective had been jerked out from between Miss Knag's closed teeth;'have I offended you?'

'YOU offended me!' retorted Miss Knag, 'YOU! a chit, a child, an upstartnobody! Oh, indeed! Ha, ha!'

Now, it was evident, as Miss Knag laughed, that something struck her asbeing exceedingly funny; and as the young ladies took their tone fromMiss Knag--she being the chief--they all got up a laugh withouta moment's delay, and nodded their heads a little, and smiledsarcastically to each other, as much as to say how very good that was!

'Here she is,' continued Miss Knag, getting off the box, and introducingKate with much ceremony and many low curtseys to the delighted throng;'here she is--everybody is talking about her--the belle, ladies--thebeauty, the--oh, you bold-faced thing!'

At this crisis, Miss Knag was unable to repress a virtuous shudder,which immediately communicated itself to all the young ladies; afterwhich, Miss Knag laughed, and after that, cried.

'For fifteen years,' exclaimed Miss Knag, sobbing in a most affectingmanner, 'for fifteen years have I been the credit and ornament of thisroom and the one upstairs. Thank God,' said Miss Knag, stamping firsther right foot and then her left with remarkable energy, 'I have neverin all that time, till now, been exposed to the arts, the vile arts, ofa creature, who disgraces us with all her proceedings, and makes properpeople blush for themselves. But I feel it, I do feel it, although I amdisgusted.'

Miss Knag here relapsed into softness, and the young ladies renewingtheir attentions, murmured that she ought to be superior to such things,and that for their part they despised them, and considered them beneaththeir notice; in witness whereof, they called out, more emphaticallythan before, that it was a shame, and that they felt so angry, they did,they hardly knew what to do with themselves.

'Have I lived to this day to be called a fright!' cried Miss Knag,suddenly becoming convulsive, and making an effort to tear her frontoff.

'Oh no, no,' replied the chorus, 'pray don't say so; don't now!'

'Have I deserved to be called an elderly person?' screamed Miss Knag,wrestling with the supernumeraries.

'Don't think of such things, dear,' answered the chorus.

'I hate her,' cried Miss Knag; 'I detest and hate her. Never let herspeak to me again; never let anybody who is a friend of mine speak toher; a slut, a hussy, an impudent artful hussy!' Having denounced theobject of her wrath, in these terms, Miss Knag screamed once, hiccupedthrice, gurgled in her throat several times, slumbered, shivered, woke,came to, composed her head-dress, and declared herself quite well again.

Poor Kate had regarded these proceedings, at first, in perfectbewilderment. She had then turned red and pale by turns, and onceor twice essayed to speak; but, as the true motives of this alteredbehaviour developed themselves, she retired a few paces, and lookedcalmly on without deigning a reply. Nevertheless, although she walkedproudly to her seat, and turned her back upon the group of littlesatellites who clustered round their ruling planet in the remotestcorner of the room, she gave way, in secret, to some such bitter tearsas would have gladdened Miss Knag's inmost soul, if she could have seenthem fall.