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Mrs Nickleby had not felt so proud and important for many a day, aswhen, on reaching home, she gave herself wholly up to the pleasantvisions which had accompanied her on her way thither. Lady MulberryHawk--that was the prevalent idea. Lady Mulberry Hawk!--On Tuesday last,at St George's, Hanover Square, by the Right Reverend the Bishopof Llandaff, Sir Mulberry Hawk, of Mulberry Castle, North Wales, toCatherine, only daughter of the late Nicholas Nickleby, Esquire, ofDevonshire. 'Upon my word!' cried Mrs Nicholas Nickleby, 'it sounds verywell.'

Having dispatched the ceremony, with its attendant festivities, to theperfect satisfaction of her own mind, the sanguine mother pictured toher imagination a long train of honours and distinctions which couldnot fail to accompany Kate in her new and brilliant sphere. She would bepresented at court, of course. On the anniversary of her birthday, whichwas upon the nineteenth of July ('at ten minutes past three o'clock inthe morning,' thought Mrs Nickleby in a parenthesis, 'for I recollectasking what o'clock it was'), Sir Mulberry would give a great feast toall his tenants, and would return them three and a half per cent on theamount of their last half-year's rent, as would be fully described andrecorded in the fashionable intelligence, to the immeasurable delightand admiration of all the readers thereof. Kate's picture, too, would bein at least half-a-dozen of the annuals, and on the opposite page wouldappear, in delicate type, 'Lines on contemplating the Portrait of LadyMulberry Hawk. By Sir Dingleby Dabber.' Perhaps some one annual, of morecomprehensive design than its fellows, might even contain a portraitof the mother of Lady Mulberry Hawk, with lines by the father of SirDingleby Dabber. More unlikely things had come to pass. Less interestingportraits had appeared. As this thought occurred to the good lady, hercountenance unconsciously assumed that compound expression of simperingand sleepiness which, being common to all such portraits, is perhaps onereason why they are always so charming and agreeable.

With such triumphs of aerial architecture did Mrs Nickleby occupythe whole evening after her accidental introduction to Ralph's titledfriends; and dreams, no less prophetic and equally promising, hauntedher sleep that night. She was preparing for her frugal dinner next day,still occupied with the same ideas--a little softened down perhaps bysleep and daylight--when the girl who attended her, partly for company,and partly to assist in the household affairs, rushed into the room inunwonted agitation, and announced that two gentlemen were waiting in thepassage for permission to walk upstairs.

'Bless my heart!' cried Mrs Nickleby, hastily arranging her cap andfront, 'if it should be--dear me, standing in the passage all thistime--why don't you go and ask them to walk up, you stupid thing?'

While the girl was gone on this errand, Mrs Nickleby hastily swept intoa cupboard all vestiges of eating and drinking; which she had scarcelydone, and seated herself with looks as collected as she could assume,when two gentlemen, both perfect strangers, presented themselves.

'How do you DO?' said one gentleman, laying great stress on the lastword of the inquiry.

'HOW do you do?' said the other gentleman, altering the emphasis, as ifto give variety to the salutation.

Mrs Nickleby curtseyed and smiled, and curtseyed again, and remarked,rubbing her hands as she did so, that she hadn't the--really--the honourto--

'To know us,' said the first gentleman. 'The loss has been ours, MrsNickleby. Has the loss been ours, Pyke?'

'It has, Pluck,' answered the other gentleman.

'We have regretted it very often, I believe, Pyke?' said the firstgentleman.

'Very often, Pluck,' answered the second.

'But now,' said the first gentleman, 'now we have the happiness wehave pined and languished for. Have we pined and languished for thishappiness, Pyke, or have we not?'

'You know we have, Pluck,' said Pyke, reproachfully.

'You hear him, ma'am?' said Mr Pluck, looking round; 'you hearthe unimpeachable testimony of my friend Pyke--that remindsme,--formalities, formalities, must not be neglected in civilisedsociety. Pyke--Mrs Nickleby.'

Mr Pyke laid his hand upon his heart, and bowed low.

'Whether I shall introduce myself with the same formality,' said MrPluck--'whether I shall say myself that my name is Pluck, or whetherI shall ask my friend Pyke (who being now regularly introduced, iscompetent to the office) to state for me, Mrs Nickleby, that my name isPluck; whether I shall claim your acquaintance on the plain ground ofthe strong interest I take in your welfare, or whether I shall makemyself known to you as the friend of Sir Mulberry Hawk--these, MrsNickleby, are considerations which I leave to you to determine.'

'Any friend of Sir Mulberry Hawk's requires no better introduction tome,' observed Mrs Nickleby, graciously.

'It is delightful to hear you say so,' said Mr Pluck, drawing a chairclose to Mrs Nickleby, and sitting himself down. 'It is refreshingto know that you hold my excellent friend, Sir Mulberry, in such highesteem. A word in your ear, Mrs Nickleby. When Sir Mulberry knows it, hewill be a happy man--I say, Mrs Nickleby, a happy man. Pyke, be seated.'

'MY good opinion,' said Mrs Nickleby, and the poor lady exulted in theidea that she was marvellously sly,--'my good opinion can be of verylittle consequence to a gentleman like Sir Mulberry.'

'Of little consequence!' exclaimed Mr Pluck. 'Pyke, of what consequenceto our friend, Sir Mulberry, is the good opinion of Mrs Nickleby?'

'Of what consequence?' echoed Pyke.

'Ay,' repeated Pluck; 'is it of the greatest consequence?'

'Of the very greatest consequence,' replied Pyke.

'Mrs Nickleby cannot be ignorant,' said Mr Pluck, 'of the immenseimpression which that sweet girl has--'

'Pluck!' said his friend, 'beware!'

'Pyke is right,' muttered Mr Pluck, after a short pause; 'I was not tomention it. Pyke is very right. Thank you, Pyke.'

'Well now, really,' thought Mrs Nickleby within herself. 'Such delicacyas that, I never saw!'

Mr Pluck, after feigning to be in a condition of great embarrassmentfor some minutes, resumed the conversation by entreating Mrs Nicklebyto take no heed of what he had inadvertently said--to consider himimprudent, rash, injudicious. The only stipulation he would make in hisown favour was, that she should give him credit for the best intentions.

'But when,' said Mr Pluck, 'when I see so much sweetness and beauty onthe one hand, and so much ardour and devotion on the other, I--pardonme, Pyke, I didn't intend to resume that theme. Change the subject,Pyke.'

'We promised Sir Mulberry and Lord Frederick,' said Pyke, 'that we'dcall this morning and inquire whether you took any cold last night.'

'Not the least in the world last night, sir,' replied Mrs Nickleby,'with many thanks to his lordship and Sir Mulberry for doing me thehonour to inquire; not the least--which is the more singular, as Ireally am very subject to colds, indeed--very subject. I had a coldonce,' said Mrs Nickleby, 'I think it was in the year eighteen hundredand seventeen; let me see, four and five are nine, and--yes, eighteenhundred and seventeen, that I thought I never should get rid of;actually and seriously, that I thought I never should get rid of. Iwas only cured at last by a remedy that I don't know whether you everhappened to hear of, Mr Pluck. You have a gallon of water as hot asyou can possibly bear it, with a pound of salt, and sixpen'orth of thefinest bran, and sit with your head in it for twenty minutes every nightjust before going to bed; at least, I don't mean your head--your feet.It's a most extraordinary cure--a most extraordinary cure. I used itfor the first time, I recollect, the day after Christmas Day, and by themiddle of April following the cold was gone. It seems quite a miraclewhen you come to think of it, for I had it ever since the beginning ofSeptember.'

'What an afflicting calamity!' said Mr Pyke.

'Perfectly horrid!' exclaimed Mr Pluck.

'But it's worth the pain of hearing, only to know that Mrs Nicklebyrecovered it, isn't it, Pluck?' cried Mr Pyke.

'That is the circumstance which gives it such a thrilling interest,'replied Mr Pluck.

'But come,' said Pyke, as if suddenly recollecting himself; 'we mustnot forget our mission in the pleasure of this interview. We come on amission, Mrs Nickleby.'

'On a mission,' exclaimed that good lady, to whose mind a definiteproposal of marriage for Kate at once presented itself in livelycolours.

'From Sir Mulberry,' replied Pyke. 'You must be very dull here.'

'Rather dull, I confess,' said Mrs Nickleby.

'We bring the compliments of Sir Mulberry Hawk, and a thousandentreaties that you'll take a seat in a private box at the playtonight,' said Mr Pluck.

'Oh dear!' said Mrs Nickleby, 'I never go out at all, never.'

'And that is the very reason, my dear Mrs Nickleby, why you should goout tonight,' retorted Mr Pluck. 'Pyke, entreat Mrs Nickleby.'

'Oh, pray do,' said Pyke.

'You positively must,' urged Pluck.

'You are very kind,' said Mrs Nickleby, hesitating; 'but--'

'There's not a but in the case, my dear Mrs Nickleby,' remonstrated MrPluck; 'not such a word in the vocabulary. Your brother-in-law joins us,Lord Frederick joins us, Sir Mulberry joins us, Pyke joins us--a refusalis out of the question. Sir Mulberry sends a carriage for you--twentyminutes before seven to the moment--you'll not be so cruel as todisappoint the whole party, Mrs Nickleby?'

'You are so very pressing, that I scarcely know what to say,' repliedthe worthy lady.

'Say nothing; not a word, not a word, my dearest madam,' urged Mr Pluck.'Mrs Nickleby,' said that excellent gentleman, lowering his voice,'there is the most trifling, the most excusable breach of confidencein what I am about to say; and yet if my friend Pyke there overheardit--such is that man's delicate sense of honour, Mrs Nickleby--he'd haveme out before dinner-time.'

Mrs Nickleby cast an apprehensive glance at the warlike Pyke, who hadwalked to the window; and Mr Pluck, squeezing her hand, went on:

'Your daughter has made a conquest--a conquest on which I maycongratulate you. Sir Mulberry, my dear ma'am, Sir Mulberry is herdevoted slave. Hem!'

'Hah!' cried Mr Pyke at this juncture, snatching something from thechimney-piece with a theatrical air. 'What is this! what do I behold!'

'What DO you behold, my dear fellow?' asked Mr Pluck.

'It is the face, the countenance, the expression,' cried Mr Pyke,falling into his chair with a miniature in his hand; 'feeblyportrayed, imperfectly caught, but still THE face, THE countenance, THEexpression.'

'I recognise it at this distance!' exclaimed Mr Pluck in a fit ofenthusiasm. 'Is it not, my dear madam, the faint similitude of--'

'It is my daughter's portrait,' said Mrs Nickleby, with great pride. Andso it was. And little Miss La Creevy had brought it home for inspectiononly two nights before.

Mr Pyke no sooner ascertained that he was quite right in his conjecture,than he launched into the most extravagant encomiums of the divineoriginal; and in the warmth of his enthusiasm kissed the picture athousand times, while Mr Pluck pressed Mrs Nickleby's hand to his heart,and congratulated her on the possession of such a daughter, with so muchearnestness and affection, that the tears stood, or seemed to stand,in his eyes. Poor Mrs Nickleby, who had listened in a state of enviablecomplacency at first, became at length quite overpowered by these tokensof regard for, and attachment to, the family; and even the servantgirl, who had peeped in at the door, remained rooted to the spot inastonishment at the ecstasies of the two friendly visitors.

By degrees these raptures subsided, and Mrs Nickleby went on toentertain her guests with a lament over her fallen fortunes, and apicturesque account of her old house in the country: comprising a fulldescription of the different apartments, not forgetting the littlestore-room, and a lively recollection of how many steps you went down toget into the garden, and which way you turned when you came out at theparlour door, and what capital fixtures there were in the kitchen. Thislast reflection naturally conducted her into the wash-house, where shestumbled upon the brewing utensils, among which she might have wanderedfor an hour, if the mere mention of those implements had not, by anassociation of ideas, instantly reminded Mr Pyke that he was 'amazingthirsty.'

'And I'll tell you what,' said Mr Pyke; 'if you'll send round to thepublic-house for a pot of milk half-and-half, positively and actuallyI'll drink it.'

And positively and actually Mr Pyke DID drink it, and Mr Pluckhelped him, while Mrs Nickleby looked on in divided admiration of thecondescension of the two, and the aptitude with which they accommodatedthemselves to the pewter-pot; in explanation of which seeming marvel itmay be here observed, that gentlemen who, like Messrs Pyke and Pluck,live upon their wits (or not so much, perhaps, upon the presenceof their own wits as upon the absence of wits in other people) areoccasionally reduced to very narrow shifts and straits, and are at suchperiods accustomed to regale themselves in a very simple and primitivemanner.

'At twenty minutes before seven, then,' said Mr Pyke, rising, 'the coachwill be here. One more look--one little look--at that sweet face. Ah!here it is. Unmoved, unchanged!' This, by the way, was a veryremarkable circumstance, miniatures being liable to so many changes ofexpression--'Oh, Pluck! Pluck!'

Mr Pluck made no other reply than kissing Mrs Nickleby's hand with agreat show of feeling and attachment; Mr Pyke having done the same, bothgentlemen hastily withdrew.

Mrs Nickleby was commonly in the habit of giving herself credit for apretty tolerable share of penetration and acuteness, but she had neverfelt so satisfied with her own sharp-sightedness as she did that day.She had found it all out the night before. She had never seen SirMulberry and Kate together--never even heard Sir Mulberry's name--andyet hadn't she said to herself from the very first, that she saw how thecase stood? and what a triumph it was, for there was now no doubtabout it. If these flattering attentions to herself were not sufficientproofs, Sir Mulberry's confidential friend had suffered the secretto escape him in so many words. 'I am quite in love with that dear MrPluck, I declare I am,' said Mrs Nickleby.

There was one great source of uneasiness in the midst of this goodfortune, and that was the having nobody by, to whom she could confideit. Once or twice she almost resolved to walk straight to Miss LaCreevy's and tell it all to her. 'But I don't know,' thought MrsNickleby; 'she is a very worthy person, but I am afraid too much beneathSir Mulberry's station for us to make a companion of. Poor thing!'Acting upon this grave consideration she rejected the idea of taking thelittle portrait painter into her confidence, and contented herselfwith holding out sundry vague and mysterious hopes of preferment to theservant girl, who received these obscure hints of dawning greatness withmuch veneration and respect.

Punctual to its time came the promised vehicle, which was no hackneycoach, but a private chariot, having behind it a footman, whose legs,although somewhat large for his body, might, as mere abstract legs,have set themselves up for models at the Royal Academy. It was quiteexhilarating to hear the clash and bustle with which he banged the doorand jumped up behind after Mrs Nickleby was in; and as that good ladywas perfectly unconscious that he applied the gold-headed end of hislong stick to his nose, and so telegraphed most disrespectfully to thecoachman over her very head, she sat in a state of much stiffness anddignity, not a little proud of her position.

At the theatre entrance there was more banging and more bustle, andthere were also Messrs Pyke and Pluck waiting to escort her to her box;and so polite were they, that Mr Pyke threatened with many oaths to'smifligate' a very old man with a lantern who accidentally stumbledin her way--to the great terror of Mrs Nickleby, who, conjecturingmore from Mr Pyke's excitement than any previous acquaintance with theetymology of the word that smifligation and bloodshed must be inthe main one and the same thing, was alarmed beyond expression, lestsomething should occur. Fortunately, however, Mr Pyke confined himselfto mere verbal smifligation, and they reached their box with no moreserious interruption by the way, than a desire on the part of the samepugnacious gentleman to 'smash' the assistant box-keeper for happeningto mistake the number.

Mrs Nickleby had scarcely been put away behind the curtain of the box inan armchair, when Sir Mulberry and Lord Verisopht arrived, arrayed fromthe crowns of their heads to the tips of their gloves, and from thetips of their gloves to the toes of their boots, in the most elegant andcostly manner. Sir Mulberry was a little hoarser than on the previousday, and Lord Verisopht looked rather sleepy and queer; from whichtokens, as well as from the circumstance of their both being to atrifling extent unsteady upon their legs, Mrs Nickleby justly concludedthat they had taken dinner.

'We have been--we have been--toasting your lovely daughter, MrsNickleby,' whispered Sir Mulberry, sitting down behind her.

'Oh, ho!' thought that knowing lady; 'wine in, truth out.--You are verykind, Sir Mulberry.'

'No, no upon my soul!' replied Sir Mulberry Hawk. 'It's you that's kind,upon my soul it is. It was so kind of you to come tonight.'

'So very kind of you to invite me, you mean, Sir Mulberry,' replied MrsNickleby, tossing her head, and looking prodigiously sly.

'I am so anxious to know you, so anxious to cultivate your good opinion,so desirous that there should be a delicious kind of harmonious familyunderstanding between us,' said Sir Mulberry, 'that you mustn't thinkI'm disinterested in what I do. I'm infernal selfish; I am--upon my soulI am.'

'I am sure you can't be selfish, Sir Mulberry!' replied Mrs Nickleby.'You have much too open and generous a countenance for that.'

'What an extraordinary observer you are!' said Sir Mulberry Hawk.

'Oh no, indeed, I don't see very far into things, Sir Mulberry,' repliedMrs Nickleby, in a tone of voice which left the baronet to infer thatshe saw very far indeed.

'I am quite afraid of you,' said the baronet. 'Upon my soul,' repeatedSir Mulberry, looking round to his companions; 'I am afraid of MrsNickleby. She is so immensely sharp.'

Messrs Pyke and Pluck shook their heads mysteriously, and observedtogether that they had found that out long ago; upon which Mrs Nicklebytittered, and Sir Mulberry laughed, and Pyke and Pluck roared.

'But where's my brother-in-law, Sir Mulberry?' inquired Mrs Nickleby. 'Ishouldn't be here without him. I hope he's coming.'

'Pyke,' said Sir Mulberry, taking out his toothpick and lolling back inhis chair, as if he were too lazy to invent a reply to this question.'Where's Ralph Nickleby?'

'Pluck,' said Pyke, imitating the baronet's action, and turning the lieover to his friend, 'where's Ralph Nickleby?'

Mr Pluck was about to return some evasive reply, when the hustle causedby a party entering the next box seemed to attract the attention of allfour gentlemen, who exchanged glances of much meaning. The new partybeginning to converse together, Sir Mulberry suddenly assumed thecharacter of a most attentive listener, and implored his friends not tobreathe--not to breathe.

'Why not?' said Mrs Nickleby. 'What is the matter?'

'Hush!' replied Sir Mulberry, laying his hand on her arm. 'LordFrederick, do you recognise the tones of that voice?'

'Deyvle take me if I didn't think it was the voice of Miss Nickleby.'

'Lor, my lord!' cried Miss Nickleby's mama, thrusting her head round thecurtain. 'Why actually--Kate, my dear, Kate.'

'YOU here, mama! Is it possible!'

'Possible, my dear? Yes.'

'Why who--who on earth is that you have with you, mama?' said Kate,shrinking back as she caught sight of a man smiling and kissing hishand.

'Who do you suppose, my dear?' replied Mrs Nickleby, bending towards MrsWititterly, and speaking a little louder for that lady's edification.'There's Mr Pyke, Mr Pluck, Sir Mulberry Hawk, and Lord FrederickVerisopht.'

'Gracious Heaven!' thought Kate hurriedly. 'How comes she in suchsociety?'

Now, Kate thought thus SO hurriedly, and the surprise was so great, andmoreover brought back so forcibly the recollection of what had passed atRalph's delectable dinner, that she turned extremely pale and appearedgreatly agitated, which symptoms being observed by Mrs Nickleby, wereat once set down by that acute lady as being caused and occasioned byviolent love. But, although she was in no small degree delighted bythis discovery, which reflected so much credit on her own quickness ofperception, it did not lessen her motherly anxiety in Kate's behalf; andaccordingly, with a vast quantity of trepidation, she quitted her ownbox to hasten into that of Mrs Wititterly. Mrs Wititterly, keenlyalive to the glory of having a lord and a baronet among her visitingacquaintance, lost no time in signing to Mr Wititterly to open the door,and thus it was that in less than thirty seconds Mrs Nickleby's partyhad made an irruption into Mrs Wititterly's box, which it filled to thevery door, there being in fact only room for Messrs Pyke and Pluck toget in their heads and waistcoats.

'My dear Kate,' said Mrs Nickleby, kissing her daughter affectionately.'How ill you looked a moment ago! You quite frightened me, I declare!'

'It was mere fancy, mama,--the--the--reflection of the lights perhaps,'replied Kate, glancing nervously round, and finding it impossible towhisper any caution or explanation.

'Don't you see Sir Mulberry Hawk, my dear?'

Kate bowed slightly, and biting her lip turned her head towards thestage.

But Sir Mulberry Hawk was not to be so easily repulsed, for he advancedwith extended hand; and Mrs Nickleby officiously informing Kate of thiscircumstance, she was obliged to extend her own. Sir Mulberry detainedit while he murmured a profusion of compliments, which Kate, rememberingwhat had passed between them, rightly considered as so many aggravationsof the insult he had already put upon her. Then followed the recognitionof Lord Verisopht, and then the greeting of Mr Pyke, and then that of MrPluck, and finally, to complete the young lady's mortification, shewas compelled at Mrs Wititterly's request to perform the ceremonyof introducing the odious persons, whom she regarded with the utmostindignation and abhorrence.

'Mrs Wititterly is delighted,' said Mr Wititterly, rubbing his hands;'delighted, my lord, I am sure, with this opportunity of contracting anacquaintance which, I trust, my lord, we shall improve. Julia, my dear,you must not allow yourself to be too much excited, you must not.Indeed you must not. Mrs Wititterly is of a most excitable nature, SirMulberry. The snuff of a candle, the wick of a lamp, the bloom on apeach, the down on a butterfly. You might blow her away, my lord; youmight blow her away.'

Sir Mulberry seemed to think that it would be a great convenience if thelady could be blown away. He said, however, that the delight was mutual,and Lord Verisopht added that it was mutual, whereupon Messrs Pyke andPluck were heard to murmur from the distance that it was very mutualindeed.

'I take an interest, my lord,' said Mrs Wititterly, with a faint smile,'such an interest in the drama.'

'Ye--es. It's very interesting,' replied Lord Verisopht.

'I'm always ill after Shakespeare,' said Mrs Wititterly. 'I scarcelyexist the next day; I find the reaction so very great after a tragedy,my lord, and Shakespeare is such a delicious creature.'

'Ye--es!' replied Lord Verisopht. 'He was a clayver man.'

'Do you know, my lord,' said Mrs Wititterly, after a long silence, 'Ifind I take so much more interest in his plays, after having been tothat dear little dull house he was born in! Were you ever there, mylord?'

'No, nayver,' replied Verisopht.

'Then really you ought to go, my lord,' returned Mrs Wititterly, in verylanguid and drawling accents. 'I don't know how it is, but after you'veseen the place and written your name in the little book, somehow orother you seem to be inspired; it kindles up quite a fire within one.'

'Ye--es!' replied Lord Verisopht, 'I shall certainly go there.'

'Julia, my life,' interposed Mr Wititterly, 'you are deceiving hislordship--unintentionally, my lord, she is deceiving you. It isyour poetical temperament, my dear--your ethereal soul--your fervidimagination, which throws you into a glow of genius and excitement.There is nothing in the place, my dear--nothing, nothing.'

'I think there must be something in the place,' said Mrs Nickleby, whohad been listening in silence; 'for, soon after I was married, I wentto Stratford with my poor dear Mr Nickleby, in a post-chaisefrom Birmingham--was it a post-chaise though?' said Mrs Nickleby,considering; 'yes, it must have been a post-chaise, because I recollectremarking at the time that the driver had a green shade over hisleft eye;--in a post-chaise from Birmingham, and after we had seenShakespeare's tomb and birthplace, we went back to the inn there, wherewe slept that night, and I recollect that all night long I dreamt ofnothing but a black gentleman, at full length, in plaster-of-Paris,with a lay-down collar tied with two tassels, leaning against a postand thinking; and when I woke in the morning and described him to MrNickleby, he said it was Shakespeare just as he had been when he wasalive, which was very curious indeed. Stratford--Stratford,' continuedMrs Nickleby, considering. 'Yes, I am positive about that, because Irecollect I was in the family way with my son Nicholas at the time,and I had been very much frightened by an Italian image boy that verymorning. In fact, it was quite a mercy, ma'am,' added Mrs Nickleby, ina whisper to Mrs Wititterly, 'that my son didn't turn out to be aShakespeare, and what a dreadful thing that would have been!'

When Mrs Nickleby had brought this interesting anecdote to a close,Pyke and Pluck, ever zealous in their patron's cause, proposed theadjournment of a detachment of the party into the next box; and with somuch skill were the preliminaries adjusted, that Kate, despite allshe could say or do to the contrary, had no alternative but to sufferherself to be led away by Sir Mulberry Hawk. Her mother and Mr Pluckaccompanied them, but the worthy lady, pluming herself upon herdiscretion, took particular care not so much as to look at her daughterduring the whole evening, and to seem wholly absorbed in the jokes andconversation of Mr Pluck, who, having been appointed sentry over MrsNickleby for that especial purpose, neglected, on his side, no possibleopportunity of engrossing her attention.

Lord Frederick Verisopht remained in the next box to be talked to by MrsWititterly, and Mr Pyke was in attendance to throw in a word or two whennecessary. As to Mr Wititterly, he was sufficiently busy in the body ofthe house, informing such of his friends and acquaintance as happenedto be there, that those two gentlemen upstairs, whom they had seenin conversation with Mrs W., were the distinguished Lord FrederickVerisopht and his most intimate friend, the gay Sir Mulberry Hawk--acommunication which inflamed several respectable house-keepers with theutmost jealousy and rage, and reduced sixteen unmarried daughters to thevery brink of despair.

The evening came to an end at last, but Kate had yet to be handeddownstairs by the detested Sir Mulberry; and so skilfully were themanoeuvres of Messrs Pyke and Pluck conducted, that she and the baronetwere the last of the party, and were even--without an appearance ofeffort or design--left at some little distance behind.

'Don't hurry, don't hurry,' said Sir Mulberry, as Kate hastened on, andattempted to release her arm.

She made no reply, but still pressed forward.

'Nay, then--' coolly observed Sir Mulberry, stopping her outright.

'You had best not seek to detain me, sir!' said Kate, angrily.

'And why not?' retorted Sir Mulberry. 'My dear creature, now why do youkeep up this show of displeasure?'

'SHOW!' repeated Kate, indignantly. 'How dare you presume to speak tome, sir--to address me--to come into my presence?'

'You look prettier in a passion, Miss Nickleby,' said Sir Mulberry Hawk,stooping down, the better to see her face.

'I hold you in the bitterest detestation and contempt, sir,' said Kate.'If you find any attraction in looks of disgust and aversion, you--letme rejoin my friends, sir, instantly. Whatever considerations may havewithheld me thus far, I will disregard them all, and take a course thateven YOU might feel, if you do not immediately suffer me to proceed.'

Sir Mulberry smiled, and still looking in her face and retaining herarm, walked towards the door.

'If no regard for my sex or helpless situation will induce you to desistfrom this coarse and unmanly persecution,' said Kate, scarcely knowing,in the tumult of her passions, what she said,--'I have a brother whowill resent it dearly, one day.'

'Upon my soul!' exclaimed Sir Mulberry, as though quietly communing withhimself; passing his arm round her waist as he spoke, 'she looks morebeautiful, and I like her better in this mood, than when her eyes arecast down, and she is in perfect repose!'

How Kate reached the lobby where her friends were waiting she neverknew, but she hurried across it without at all regarding them, anddisengaged herself suddenly from her companion, sprang into the coach,and throwing herself into its darkest corner burst into tears.

Messrs Pyke and Pluck, knowing their cue, at once threw the party intogreat commotion by shouting for the carriages, and getting up a violentquarrel with sundry inoffensive bystanders; in the midst of which tumultthey put the affrighted Mrs Nickleby in her chariot, and having got hersafely off, turned their thoughts to Mrs Wititterly, whose attentionalso they had now effectually distracted from the young lady, bythrowing her into a state of the utmost bewilderment and consternation.At length, the conveyance in which she had come rolled off too with itsload, and the four worthies, being left alone under the portico, enjoyeda hearty laugh together.

'There,' said Sir Mulberry, turning to his noble friend. 'Didn't I tellyou last night that if we could find where they were going by bribing aservant through my fellow, and then established ourselves close by withthe mother, these people's honour would be our own? Why here it is, donein four-and-twenty hours.'

'Ye--es,' replied the dupe. 'But I have been tied to the old woman allni-ight.'

'Hear him,' said Sir Mulberry, turning to his two friends. 'Hear thisdiscontented grumbler. Isn't it enough to make a man swear never to helphim in his plots and schemes again? Isn't it an infernal shame?'

Pyke asked Pluck whether it was not an infernal shame, and Pluck askedPyke; but neither answered.

'Isn't it the truth?' demanded Verisopht. 'Wasn't it so?'

'Wasn't it so!' repeated Sir Mulberry. 'How would you have had it? Howcould we have got a general invitation at first sight--come when youlike, go when you like, stop as long as you like, do what you like--ifyou, the lord, had not made yourself agreeable to the foolish mistressof the house? Do I care for this girl, except as your friend? Haven't Ibeen sounding your praises in her ears, and bearing her pretty sulks andpeevishness all night for you? What sort of stuff do you think I'm madeof? Would I do this for every man? Don't I deserve even gratitude inreturn?'

'You're a deyvlish good fellow,' said the poor young lord, taking hisfriend's arm. 'Upon my life you're a deyvlish good fellow, Hawk.'

'And I have done right, have I?' demanded Sir Mulberry.

'Quite ri-ght.'

'And like a poor, silly, good-natured, friendly dog as I am, eh?'

'Ye--es, ye--es; like a friend,' replied the other.

'Well then,' replied Sir Mulberry, 'I'm satisfied. And now let's go andhave our revenge on the German baron and the Frenchman, who cleaned youout so handsomely last night.'

With these words the friendly creature took his companion's arm and ledhim away, turning half round as he did so, and bestowing a wink anda contemptuous smile on Messrs Pyke and Pluck, who, cramming theirhandkerchiefs into their mouths to denote their silent enjoyment ofthe whole proceedings, followed their patron and his victim at a littledistance.