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Little Miss La Creevy trotted briskly through divers streets at thewest end of the town, early on Monday morning--the day after thedinner--charged with the important commission of acquainting MadameMantalini that Miss Nickleby was too unwell to attend that day, buthoped to be enabled to resume her duties on the morrow. And as Miss LaCreevy walked along, revolving in her mind various genteel forms andelegant turns of expression, with a view to the selection of the verybest in which to couch her communication, she cogitated a good deal uponthe probable causes of her young friend's indisposition.

'I don't know what to make of it,' said Miss La Creevy. 'Her eyes weredecidedly red last night. She said she had a headache; headaches don'toccasion red eyes. She must have been crying.'

Arriving at this conclusion, which, indeed, she had established to herperfect satisfaction on the previous evening, Miss La Creevy went onto consider--as she had done nearly all night--what new cause ofunhappiness her young friend could possibly have had.

'I can't think of anything,' said the little portrait painter. 'Nothingat all, unless it was the behaviour of that old bear. Cross to her, Isuppose? Unpleasant brute!'

Relieved by this expression of opinion, albeit it was vented upon emptyair, Miss La Creevy trotted on to Madame Mantalini's; and being informedthat the governing power was not yet out of bed, requested an interviewwith the second in command; whereupon Miss Knag appeared.

'So far as I am concerned,' said Miss Knag, when the message had beendelivered, with many ornaments of speech; 'I could spare Miss Nicklebyfor evermore.'

'Oh, indeed, ma'am!' rejoined Miss La Creevy, highly offended. 'But,you see, you are not mistress of the business, and therefore it's of nogreat consequence.'

'Very good, ma'am,' said Miss Knag. 'Have you any further commands forme?'

'No, I have not, ma'am,' rejoined Miss La Creevy.

'Then good-morning, ma'am,' said Miss Knag.

'Good-morning to you, ma'am; and many obligations for your extremepoliteness and good breeding,' rejoined Miss La Creevy.

Thus terminating the interview, during which both ladies had trembledvery much, and been marvellously polite--certain indications that theywere within an inch of a very desperate quarrel--Miss La Creevy bouncedout of the room, and into the street.

'I wonder who that is,' said the queer little soul. 'A nice personto know, I should think! I wish I had the painting of her: I'D do herjustice.' So, feeling quite satisfied that she had said a very cuttingthing at Miss Knag's expense, Miss La Creevy had a hearty laugh, andwent home to breakfast in great good humour.

Here was one of the advantages of having lived alone so long! The littlebustling, active, cheerful creature existed entirely within herself,talked to herself, made a confidante of herself, was as sarcastic as shecould be, on people who offended her, by herself; pleased herself, anddid no harm. If she indulged in scandal, nobody's reputation suffered;and if she enjoyed a little bit of revenge, no living soul was one atomthe worse. One of the many to whom, from straitened circumstances, aconsequent inability to form the associations they would wish, and adisinclination to mix with the society they could obtain, London isas complete a solitude as the plains of Syria, the humble artist hadpursued her lonely, but contented way for many years; and, until thepeculiar misfortunes of the Nickleby family attracted her attention,had made no friends, though brimful of the friendliest feelings to allmankind. There are many warm hearts in the same solitary guise as poorlittle Miss La Creevy's.

However, that's neither here nor there, just now. She went home tobreakfast, and had scarcely caught the full flavour of her first sip oftea, when the servant announced a gentleman, whereat Miss La Creevy, atonce imagining a new sitter transfixed by admiration at the street-doorcase, was in unspeakable consternation at the presence of thetea-things.

'Here, take 'em away; run with 'em into the bedroom; anywhere,' saidMiss La Creevy. 'Dear, dear; to think that I should be late on thisparticular morning, of all others, after being ready for three weeks byhalf-past eight o'clock, and not a soul coming near the place!'

'Don't let me put you out of the way,' said a voice Miss La Creevy knew.'I told the servant not to mention my name, because I wished to surpriseyou.'

'Mr Nicholas!' cried Miss La Creevy, starting in great astonishment.'You have not forgotten me, I see,' replied Nicholas, extending hishand.

'Why, I think I should even have known you if I had met you in thestreet,' said Miss La Creevy, with a smile. 'Hannah, another cup andsaucer. Now, I'll tell you what, young man; I'll trouble you not torepeat the impertinence you were guilty of, on the morning you wentaway.'

'You would not be very angry, would you?' asked Nicholas.

'Wouldn't I!' said Miss La Creevy. 'You had better try; that's all!'

Nicholas, with becoming gallantry, immediately took Miss La Creevy ather word, who uttered a faint scream and slapped his face; but it wasnot a very hard slap, and that's the truth.

'I never saw such a rude creature!' exclaimed Miss La Creevy.

'You told me to try,' said Nicholas.

'Well; but I was speaking ironically,' rejoined Miss La Creevy.

'Oh! that's another thing,' said Nicholas; 'you should have told methat, too.'

'I dare say you didn't know, indeed!' retorted Miss La Creevy. 'But, nowI look at you again, you seem thinner than when I saw you last, and yourface is haggard and pale. And how come you to have left Yorkshire?'

She stopped here; for there was so much heart in her altered tone andmanner, that Nicholas was quite moved.

'I need look somewhat changed,' he said, after a short silence; 'forI have undergone some suffering, both of mind and body, since I leftLondon. I have been very poor, too, and have even suffered from want.'

'Good Heaven, Mr Nicholas!' exclaimed Miss La Creevy, 'what are youtelling me?'

'Nothing which need distress you quite so much,' answered Nicholas, witha more sprightly air; 'neither did I come here to bewail my lot, buton matter more to the purpose. I wish to meet my uncle face to face. Ishould tell you that first.'

'Then all I have to say about that is,' interposed Miss La Creevy, 'thatI don't envy you your taste; and that sitting in the same room with hisvery boots, would put me out of humour for a fortnight.'

'In the main,' said Nicholas, 'there may be no great difference ofopinion between you and me, so far; but you will understand, that Idesire to confront him, to justify myself, and to cast his duplicity andmalice in his throat.'

'That's quite another matter,' rejoined Miss La Creevy. 'Heaven forgiveme; but I shouldn't cry my eyes quite out of my head, if they chokedhim. Well?'

'To this end, I called upon him this morning,' said Nicholas. 'He onlyreturned to town on Saturday, and I knew nothing of his arrival untillate last night.'

'And did you see him?' asked Miss La Creevy.

'No,' replied Nicholas. 'He had gone out.'

'Hah!' said Miss La Creevy; 'on some kind, charitable business, I daresay.'

'I have reason to believe,' pursued Nicholas, 'from what has been toldme, by a friend of mine who is acquainted with his movements, that heintends seeing my mother and sister today, and giving them his versionof the occurrences that have befallen me. I will meet him there.'

'That's right,' said Miss La Creevy, rubbing her hands. 'And yet, Idon't know,' she added, 'there is much to be thought of--others to beconsidered.'

'I have considered others,' rejoined Nicholas; 'but as honesty andhonour are both at issue, nothing shall deter me.'

'You should know best,' said Miss La Creevy.

'In this case I hope so,' answered Nicholas. 'And all I want you to dofor me, is, to prepare them for my coming. They think me a long wayoff, and if I went wholly unexpected, I should frighten them. If you canspare time to tell them that you have seen me, and that I shall bewith them in a quarter of an hour afterwards, you will do me a greatservice.'

'I wish I could do you, or any of you, a greater,' said Miss La Creevy;'but the power to serve, is as seldom joined with the will, as the willis with the power, I think.'

Talking on very fast and very much, Miss La Creevy finished herbreakfast with great expedition, put away the tea-caddy and hid thekey under the fender, resumed her bonnet, and, taking Nicholas's arm,sallied forth at once to the city. Nicholas left her near the door ofhis mother's house, and promised to return within a quarter of an hour.

It so chanced that Ralph Nickleby, at length seeing fit, for his ownpurposes, to communicate the atrocities of which Nicholas had beenguilty, had (instead of first proceeding to another quarter of the townon business, as Newman Noggs supposed he would) gone straight to hissister-in-law. Hence, when Miss La Creevy, admitted by a girl who wascleaning the house, made her way to the sitting-room, she found MrsNickleby and Kate in tears, and Ralph just concluding his statement ofhis nephew's misdemeanours. Kate beckoned her not to retire, and Miss LaCreevy took a seat in silence.

'You are here already, are you, my gentleman?' thought the little woman.'Then he shall announce himself, and see what effect that has on you.'

'This is pretty,' said Ralph, folding up Miss Squeers's note; 'verypretty. I recommend him--against all my previous conviction, for Iknew he would never do any good--to a man with whom, behaving himselfproperly, he might have remained, in comfort, for years. What is theresult? Conduct for which he might hold up his hand at the Old Bailey.'

'I never will believe it,' said Kate, indignantly; 'never. It is somebase conspiracy, which carries its own falsehood with it.'

'My dear,' said Ralph, 'you wrong the worthy man. These are notinventions. The man is assaulted, your brother is not to be found; thisboy, of whom they speak, goes with him--remember, remember.'

'It is impossible,' said Kate. 'Nicholas!--and a thief too! Mama, howcan you sit and hear such statements?'

Poor Mrs Nickleby, who had, at no time, been remarkable for thepossession of a very clear understanding, and who had been reducedby the late changes in her affairs to a most complicated state ofperplexity, made no other reply to this earnest remonstrance thanexclaiming from behind a mass of pocket-handkerchief, that she nevercould have believed it--thereby most ingeniously leaving her hearers tosuppose that she did believe it.

'It would be my duty, if he came in my way, to deliver him up tojustice,' said Ralph, 'my bounden duty; I should have no other course,as a man of the world and a man of business, to pursue. And yet,' saidRalph, speaking in a very marked manner, and looking furtively, butfixedly, at Kate, 'and yet I would not. I would spare the feelings ofhis--of his sister. And his mother of course,' added Ralph, as though byan afterthought, and with far less emphasis.

Kate very well understood that this was held out as an additionalinducement to her to preserve the strictest silence regarding the eventsof the preceding night. She looked involuntarily towards Ralph as heceased to speak, but he had turned his eyes another way, and seemed forthe moment quite unconscious of her presence.

'Everything,' said Ralph, after a long silence, broken only by MrsNickleby's sobs, 'everything combines to prove the truth of this letter,if indeed there were any possibility of disputing it. Do innocent mensteal away from the sight of honest folks, and skulk in hiding-places,like outlaws? Do innocent men inveigle nameless vagabonds, and prowlwith them about the country as idle robbers do? Assault, riot, theft,what do you call these?'

'A lie!' cried a voice, as the door was dashed open, and Nicholas cameinto the room.

In the first moment of surprise, and possibly of alarm, Ralph rose fromhis seat, and fell back a few paces, quite taken off his guard by thisunexpected apparition. In another moment, he stood, fixed and immovablewith folded arms, regarding his nephew with a scowl; while Kate andMiss La Creevy threw themselves between the two, to prevent the personalviolence which the fierce excitement of Nicholas appeared to threaten.

'Dear Nicholas,' cried his sister, clinging to him. 'Be calm,consider--'

'Consider, Kate!' cried Nicholas, clasping her hand so tight in thetumult of his anger, that she could scarcely bear the pain. 'When Iconsider all, and think of what has passed, I need be made of iron tostand before him.'

'Or bronze,' said Ralph, quietly; 'there is not hardihood enough inflesh and blood to face it out.'

'Oh dear, dear!' cried Mrs Nickleby, 'that things should have come tosuch a pass as this!'

'Who speaks in a tone, as if I had done wrong, and brought disgrace onthem?' said Nicholas, looking round.

'Your mother, sir,' replied Ralph, motioning towards her.

'Whose ears have been poisoned by you,' said Nicholas; 'by you--who,under pretence of deserving the thanks she poured upon you, heaped everyinsult, wrong, and indignity upon my head. You, who sent me to a denwhere sordid cruelty, worthy of yourself, runs wanton, and youthfulmisery stalks precocious; where the lightness of childhood shrinks intothe heaviness of age, and its every promise blights, and withers as itgrows. I call Heaven to witness,' said Nicholas, looking eagerly round,'that I have seen all this, and that he knows it.'

'Refute these calumnies,' said Kate, 'and be more patient, so that youmay give them no advantage. Tell us what you really did, and show thatthey are untrue.'

'Of what do they--or of what does he--accuse me?' said Nicholas.

'First, of attacking your master, and being within an ace of qualifyingyourself to be tried for murder,' interposed Ralph. 'I speak plainly,young man, bluster as you will.'

'I interfered,' said Nicholas, 'to save a miserable creature from thevilest cruelty. In so doing, I inflicted such punishment upon a wretchas he will not readily forget, though far less than he deserved fromme. If the same scene were renewed before me now, I would take the samepart; but I would strike harder and heavier, and brand him with suchmarks as he should carry to his grave, go to it when he would.'

'You hear?' said Ralph, turning to Mrs Nickleby. 'Penitence, this!'

'Oh dear me!' cried Mrs Nickleby, 'I don't know what to think, I reallydon't.'

'Do not speak just now, mama, I entreat you,' said Kate. 'Dear Nicholas,I only tell you, that you may know what wickedness can prompt, but theyaccuse you of--a ring is missing, and they dare to say that--'

'The woman,' said Nicholas, haughtily, 'the wife of the fellow from whomthese charges come, dropped--as I suppose--a worthless ring among someclothes of mine, early in the morning on which I left the house. Atleast, I know that she was in the bedroom where they lay, strugglingwith an unhappy child, and that I found it when I opened my bundle onthe road. I returned it, at once, by coach, and they have it now.'

'I knew, I knew,' said Kate, looking towards her uncle. 'About this boy,love, in whose company they say you left?'

'The boy, a silly, helpless creature, from brutality and hard usage, iswith me now,' rejoined Nicholas.

'You hear?' said Ralph, appealing to the mother again, 'everythingproved, even upon his own confession. Do you choose to restore that boy,sir?'

'No, I do not,' replied Nicholas.

'You do not?' sneered Ralph.

'No,' repeated Nicholas, 'not to the man with whom I found him. I wouldthat I knew on whom he has the claim of birth: I might wring somethingfrom his sense of shame, if he were dead to every tie of nature.'

'Indeed!' said Ralph. 'Now, sir, will you hear a word or two from me?'

'You can speak when and what you please,' replied Nicholas, embracinghis sister. 'I take little heed of what you say or threaten.'

'Mighty well, sir,' retorted Ralph; 'but perhaps it may concern others,who may think it worth their while to listen, and consider what I tellthem. I will address your mother, sir, who knows the world.'

'Ah! and I only too dearly wish I didn't,' sobbed Mrs Nickleby.

There really was no necessity for the good lady to be much distressedupon this particular head; the extent of her worldly knowledge being, tosay the least, very questionable; and so Ralph seemed to think, for hesmiled as she spoke. He then glanced steadily at her and Nicholas byturns, as he delivered himself in these words:

'Of what I have done, or what I meant to do, for you, ma'am, and myniece, I say not one syllable. I held out no promise, and leave you tojudge for yourself. I hold out no threat now, but I say that this boy,headstrong, wilful and disorderly as he is, should not have one penny ofmy money, or one crust of my bread, or one grasp of my hand, to save himfrom the loftiest gallows in all Europe. I will not meet him, come wherehe comes, or hear his name. I will not help him, or those who help him.With a full knowledge of what he brought upon you by so doing, he hascome back in his selfish sloth, to be an aggravation of your wants, anda burden upon his sister's scanty wages. I regret to leave you, and moreto leave her, now, but I will not encourage this compound of meannessand cruelty, and, as I will not ask you to renounce him, I see you nomore.'

If Ralph had not known and felt his power in wounding those he hated,his glances at Nicholas would have shown it him, in all its force, ashe proceeded in the above address. Innocent as the young man was of allwrong, every artful insinuation stung, every well-considered sarcasm cuthim to the quick; and when Ralph noted his pale face and quiveringlip, he hugged himself to mark how well he had chosen the taunts bestcalculated to strike deep into a young and ardent spirit.

'I can't help it,' cried Mrs Nickleby. 'I know you have been very goodto us, and meant to do a good deal for my dear daughter. I am quite sureof that; I know you did, and it was very kind of you, having her at yourhouse and all--and of course it would have been a great thing for herand for me too. But I can't, you know, brother-in-law, I can't renouncemy own son, even if he has done all you say he has--it's not possible;I couldn't do it; so we must go to rack and ruin, Kate, my dear. I canbear it, I dare say.' Pouring forth these and a perfectly wonderfultrain of other disjointed expressions of regret, which no mortal powerbut Mrs Nickleby's could ever have strung together, that lady wrung herhands, and her tears fell faster.

'Why do you say "IF Nicholas has done what they say he has," mama?'asked Kate, with honest anger. 'You know he has not.'

'I don't know what to think, one way or other, my dear,' said MrsNickleby; 'Nicholas is so violent, and your uncle has so much composure,that I can only hear what he says, and not what Nicholas does. Nevermind, don't let us talk any more about it. We can go to the Workhouse,or the Refuge for the Destitute, or the Magdalen Hospital, I dare say;and the sooner we go the better.' With this extraordinary jumble ofcharitable institutions, Mrs Nickleby again gave way to her tears.

'Stay,' said Nicholas, as Ralph turned to go. 'You need not leave thisplace, sir, for it will be relieved of my presence in one minute, and itwill be long, very long, before I darken these doors again.'

'Nicholas,' cried Kate, throwing herself on her brother's shoulder, 'donot say so. My dear brother, you will break my heart. Mama, speak tohim. Do not mind her, Nicholas; she does not mean it, you should knowher better. Uncle, somebody, for Heaven's sake speak to him.'

'I never meant, Kate,' said Nicholas, tenderly, 'I never meant to stayamong you; think better of me than to suppose it possible. I may turn myback on this town a few hours sooner than I intended, but what of that?We shall not forget each other apart, and better days will come when weshall part no more. Be a woman, Kate,' he whispered, proudly, 'and donot make me one, while HE looks on.'

'No, no, I will not,' said Kate, eagerly, 'but you will not leave us.Oh! think of all the happy days we have had together, before theseterrible misfortunes came upon us; of all the comfort and happiness ofhome, and the trials we have to bear now; of our having no protectorunder all the slights and wrongs that poverty so much favours, and youcannot leave us to bear them alone, without one hand to help us.'

'You will be helped when I am away,' replied Nicholas hurriedly. 'I amno help to you, no protector; I should bring you nothing but sorrow, andwant, and suffering. My own mother sees it, and her fondness and fearsfor you, point to the course that I should take. And so all good angelsbless you, Kate, till I can carry you to some home of mine, where we mayrevive the happiness denied to us now, and talk of these trials as ofthings gone by. Do not keep me here, but let me go at once. There. Deargirl--dear girl.'

The grasp which had detained him relaxed, and Kate swooned in his arms.Nicholas stooped over her for a few seconds, and placing her gently in achair, confided her to their honest friend.

'I need not entreat your sympathy,' he said, wringing her hand, 'for Iknow your nature. You will never forget them.'

He stepped up to Ralph, who remained in the same attitude which he hadpreserved throughout the interview, and moved not a finger.

'Whatever step you take, sir,' he said, in a voice inaudible beyondthemselves, 'I shall keep a strict account of. I leave them to you, atyour desire. There will be a day of reckoning sooner or later, and itwill be a heavy one for you if they are wronged.'

Ralph did not allow a muscle of his face to indicate that he heard oneword of this parting address. He hardly knew that it was concluded, andMrs Nickleby had scarcely made up her mind to detain her son by force ifnecessary, when Nicholas was gone.

As he hurried through the streets to his obscure lodging, seeking tokeep pace, as it were, with the rapidity of the thoughts which crowdedupon him, many doubts and hesitations arose in his mind, and almosttempted him to return. But what would they gain by this? Supposing hewere to put Ralph Nickleby at defiance, and were even fortunate enoughto obtain some small employment, his being with them could only rendertheir present condition worse, and might greatly impair their futureprospects; for his mother had spoken of some new kindnesses towards Katewhich she had not denied. 'No,' thought Nicholas, 'I have acted for thebest.'

But, before he had gone five hundred yards, some other and differentfeeling would come upon him, and then he would lag again, and pullinghis hat over his eyes, give way to the melancholy reflections whichpressed thickly upon him. To have committed no fault, and yet to be soentirely alone in the world; to be separated from the only persons heloved, and to be proscribed like a criminal, when six months ago he hadbeen surrounded by every comfort, and looked up to, as the chief hope ofhis family--this was hard to bear. He had not deserved it either. Well,there was comfort in that; and poor Nicholas would brighten up again,to be again depressed, as his quickly shifting thoughts presented everyvariety of light and shade before him.

Undergoing these alternations of hope and misgiving, which no one,placed in a situation of ordinary trial, can fail to have experienced,Nicholas at length reached his poor room, where, no longer borne up bythe excitement which had hitherto sustained him, but depressed by therevulsion of feeling it left behind, he threw himself on the bed, andturning his face to the wall, gave free vent to the emotions he had solong stifled.

He had not heard anybody enter, and was unconscious of the presence ofSmike, until, happening to raise his head, he saw him, standing at theupper end of the room, looking wistfully towards him. He withdrew hiseyes when he saw that he was observed, and affected to be busied withsome scanty preparations for dinner.

'Well, Smike,' said Nicholas, as cheerfully as he could speak, 'letme hear what new acquaintances you have made this morning, or what newwonder you have found out, in the compass of this street and the nextone.'

'No,' said Smike, shaking his head mournfully; 'I must talk of somethingelse today.'

'Of what you like,' replied Nicholas, good-humouredly.

'Of this,' said Smike. 'I know you are unhappy, and have got into greattrouble by bringing me away. I ought to have known that, and stoppedbehind--I would, indeed, if I had thought it then. You--you--are notrich; you have not enough for yourself, and I should not be here. Yougrow,' said the lad, laying his hand timidly on that of Nicholas, 'yougrow thinner every day; your cheek is paler, and your eye more sunk.Indeed I cannot bear to see you so, and think how I am burdening you. Itried to go away today, but the thought of your kind face drew me back.I could not leave you without a word.' The poor fellow could say nomore, for his eyes filled with tears, and his voice was gone.

'The word which separates us,' said Nicholas, grasping him heartily bythe shoulder, 'shall never be said by me, for you are my only comfortand stay. I would not lose you now, Smike, for all the world could give.The thought of you has upheld me through all I have endured today, andshall, through fifty times such trouble. Give me your hand. My heart islinked to yours. We will journey from this place together, before theweek is out. What, if I am steeped in poverty? You lighten it, and wewill be poor together.'