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After an anxious consideration of the painful and embarrassing positionin which he was placed, Nicholas decided that he ought to lose no timein frankly stating it to the kind brothers. Availing himself of thefirst opportunity of being alone with Mr Charles Cheeryble at the closeof next day, he accordingly related Smike's little history, and modestlybut firmly expressed his hope that the good old gentleman would, undersuch circumstances as he described, hold him justified in adopting theextreme course of interfering between parent and child, and upholdingthe latter in his disobedience; even though his horror and dread of hisfather might seem, and would doubtless be represented as, a thing sorepulsive and unnatural, as to render those who countenanced him in it,fit objects of general detestation and abhorrence.

'So deeply rooted does this horror of the man appear to be,' saidNicholas, 'that I can hardly believe he really is his son. Naturedoes not seem to have implanted in his breast one lingering feeling ofaffection for him, and surely she can never err.'

'My dear sir,' replied brother Charles, 'you fall into the very commonmistake of charging upon Nature, matters with which she has not thesmallest connection, and for which she is in no way responsible. Mentalk of Nature as an abstract thing, and lose sight of what is naturalwhile they do so. Here is a poor lad who has never felt a parent's care,who has scarcely known anything all his life but suffering and sorrow,presented to a man who he is told is his father, and whose first actis to signify his intention of putting an end to his short term ofhappiness, of consigning him to his old fate, and taking him from theonly friend he has ever had--which is yourself. If Nature, in such acase, put into that lad's breast but one secret prompting which urgedhim towards his father and away from you, she would be a liar and anidiot.'

Nicholas was delighted to find that the old gentleman spoke so warmly,and in the hope that he might say something more to the same purpose,made no reply.

'The same mistake presents itself to me, in one shape or other, atevery turn,' said brother Charles. 'Parents who never showed their love,complain of want of natural affection in their children; children whonever showed their duty, complain of want of natural feeling in theirparents; law-makers who find both so miserable that their affectionshave never had enough of life's sun to develop them, are loud in theirmoralisings over parents and children too, and cry that the very ties ofnature are disregarded. Natural affections and instincts, my dear sir,are the most beautiful of the Almighty's works, but like other beautifulworks of His, they must be reared and fostered, or it is as natural thatthey should be wholly obscured, and that new feelings should usurptheir place, as it is that the sweetest productions of the earth, leftuntended, should be choked with weeds and briers. I wish we could bebrought to consider this, and remembering natural obligations a littlemore at the right time, talk about them a little less at the wrong one.'

After this, brother Charles, who had talked himself into a great heat,stopped to cool a little, and then continued:

'I dare say you are surprised, my dear sir, that I have listened toyour recital with so little astonishment. That is easily explained. Youruncle has been here this morning.'

Nicholas coloured, and drew back a step or two.

'Yes,' said the old gentleman, tapping his desk emphatically, 'here, inthis room. He would listen neither to reason, feeling, nor justice. Butbrother Ned was hard upon him; brother Ned, sir, might have melted apaving-stone.'

'He came to--' said Nicholas.

'To complain of you,' returned brother Charles, 'to poison our ears withcalumnies and falsehoods; but he came on a fruitless errand, and wentaway with some wholesome truths in his ear besides. Brother Ned, my dearMy Nickleby--brother Ned, sir, is a perfect lion. So is Tim Linkinwater;Tim is quite a lion. We had Tim in to face him at first, and Tim was athim, sir, before you could say "Jack Robinson."'

'How can I ever thank you for all the deep obligations you impose uponme every day?' said Nicholas.

'By keeping silence upon the subject, my dear sir,' returned brotherCharles. 'You shall be righted. At least you shall not be wronged.Nobody belonging to you shall be wronged. They shall not hurt a hair ofyour head, or the boy's head, or your mother's head, or your sister'shead. I have said it, brother Ned has said it, Tim Linkinwater has saidit. We have all said it, and we'll all do it. I have seen the father--ifhe is the father--and I suppose he must be. He is a barbarian and ahypocrite, Mr Nickleby. I told him, "You are a barbarian, sir." I did.I said, "You're a barbarian, sir." And I'm glad of it, I am VERY glad Itold him he was a barbarian, very glad indeed!'

By this time brother Charles was in such a very warm state ofindignation, that Nicholas thought he might venture to put in a word,but the moment he essayed to do so, Mr Cheeryble laid his hand softlyupon his arm, and pointed to a chair.

'The subject is at an end for the present,' said the old gentleman,wiping his face. 'Don't revive it by a single word. I am going to speakupon another subject, a confidential subject, Mr Nickleby. We must becool again, we must be cool.'

After two or three turns across the room he resumed his seat, anddrawing his chair nearer to that on which Nicholas was seated, said:

'I am about to employ you, my dear sir, on a confidential and delicatemission.'

'You might employ many a more able messenger, sir,' said Nicholas, 'buta more trustworthy or zealous one, I may be bold to say, you could notfind.'

'Of that I am well assured,' returned brother Charles, 'well assured.You will give me credit for thinking so, when I tell you that the objectof this mission is a young lady.'

'A young lady, sir!' cried Nicholas, quite trembling for the moment withhis eagerness to hear more.

'A very beautiful young lady,' said Mr Cheeryble, gravely.

'Pray go on, sir,' returned Nicholas.

'I am thinking how to do so,' said brother Charles; sadly, as itseemed to his young friend, and with an expression allied to pain. 'Youaccidentally saw a young lady in this room one morning, my dear sir, ina fainting fit. Do you remember? Perhaps you have forgotten.'

'Oh no,' replied Nicholas, hurriedly. 'I--I--remember it very wellindeed.'

'SHE is the lady I speak of,' said brother Charles. Like the famousparrot, Nicholas thought a great deal, but was unable to utter a word.

'She is the daughter,' said Mr Cheeryble, 'of a lady who, when she was abeautiful girl herself, and I was very many years younger, I--it seemsa strange word for me to utter now--I loved very dearly. You will smile,perhaps, to hear a grey-headed man talk about such things. You will notoffend me, for when I was as young as you, I dare say I should have donethe same.'

'I have no such inclination, indeed,' said Nicholas.

'My dear brother Ned,' continued Mr Cheeryble, 'was to have married hersister, but she died. She is dead too now, and has been for many years.She married her choice; and I wish I could add that her after-life wasas happy as God knows I ever prayed it might be!'

A short silence intervened, which Nicholas made no effort to break.

'If trial and calamity had fallen as lightly on his head, as in thedeepest truth of my own heart I ever hoped (for her sake) it would, hislife would have been one of peace and happiness,' said the old gentlemancalmly. 'It will be enough to say that this was not the case; thatshe was not happy; that they fell into complicated distresses anddifficulties; that she came, twelve months before her death, to appealto my old friendship; sadly changed, sadly altered, broken-spirited fromsuffering and ill-usage, and almost broken-hearted. He readily availedhimself of the money which, to give her but one hour's peace of mind,I would have poured out as freely as water--nay, he often sent her backfor more--and yet even while he squandered it, he made the very successof these, her applications to me, the groundwork of cruel taunts andjeers, protesting that he knew she thought with bitter remorse of thechoice she had made, that she had married him from motives of interestand vanity (he was a gay young man with great friends about him whenshe chose him for her husband), and venting in short upon her, by everyunjust and unkind means, the bitterness of that ruin and disappointmentwhich had been brought about by his profligacy alone. In those timesthis young lady was a mere child. I never saw her again until thatmorning when you saw her also, but my nephew, Frank--'

Nicholas started, and indistinctly apologising for the interruption,begged his patron to proceed.

'--My nephew, Frank, I say,' resumed Mr Cheeryble, 'encountered her byaccident, and lost sight of her almost in a minute afterwards, withintwo days after he returned to England. Her father lay in some secretplace to avoid his creditors, reduced, between sickness and poverty, tothe verge of death, and she, a child,--we might almost think, if we didnot know the wisdom of all Heaven's decrees--who should have blessed abetter man, was steadily braving privation, degradation, and everythingmost terrible to such a young and delicate creature's heart, for thepurpose of supporting him. She was attended, sir,' said brother Charles,'in these reverses, by one faithful creature, who had been, in oldtimes, a poor kitchen wench in the family, who was then their solitaryservant, but who might have been, for the truth and fidelity of herheart--who might have been--ah! the wife of Tim Linkinwater himself,sir!'

Pursuing this encomium upon the poor follower with such energy andrelish as no words can describe, brother Charles leant back in hischair, and delivered the remainder of his relation with greatercomposure.

It was in substance this: That proudly resisting all offers of permanentaid and support from her late mother's friends, because they were madeconditional upon her quitting the wretched man, her father, who had nofriends left, and shrinking with instinctive delicacy from appealingin their behalf to that true and noble heart which he hated, andhad, through its greatest and purest goodness, deeply wronged bymisconstruction and ill report, this young girl had struggled alone andunassisted to maintain him by the labour of her hands. That through theutmost depths of poverty and affliction she had toiled, never turningaside for an instant from her task, never wearied by the petulant gloomof a sick man sustained by no consoling recollections of the past orhopes of the future; never repining for the comforts she had rejected,or bewailing the hard lot she had voluntarily incurred. That everylittle accomplishment she had acquired in happier days had been put intorequisition for this purpose, and directed to this one end. That fortwo long years, toiling by day and often too by night, working at theneedle, the pencil, and the pen, and submitting, as a daily governess,to such caprices and indignities as women (with daughters too) too oftenlove to inflict upon their own sex when they serve in such capacities,as though in jealousy of the superior intelligence which they arenecessitated to employ,--indignities, in ninety-nine cases out ofevery hundred, heaped upon persons immeasurably and incalculably theirbetters, but outweighing in comparison any that the most heartlessblackleg would put upon his groom--that for two long years, by dintof labouring in all these capacities and wearying in none, she had notsucceeded in the sole aim and object of her life, but that, overwhelmedby accumulated difficulties and disappointments, she had been compelledto seek out her mother's old friend, and, with a bursting heart, toconfide in him at last.

'If I had been poor,' said brother Charles, with sparkling eyes; 'ifI had been poor, Mr Nickleby, my dear sir, which thank God I am not,I would have denied myself (of course anybody would under suchcircumstances) the commonest necessaries of life, to help her. As it is,the task is a difficult one. If her father were dead, nothing couldbe easier, for then she should share and cheer the happiest home thatbrother Ned and I could have, as if she were our child or sister. Buthe is still alive. Nobody can help him; that has been tried a thousandtimes; he was not abandoned by all without good cause, I know.'

'Cannot she be persuaded to--' Nicholas hesitated when he had got thusfar.

'To leave him?' said brother Charles. 'Who could entreat a childto desert her parent? Such entreaties, limited to her seeing himoccasionally, have been urged upon her--not by me--but always with thesame result.'

'Is he kind to her?' said Nicholas. 'Does he requite her affection?'

'True kindness, considerate self-denying kindness, is not in hisnature,' returned Mr Cheeryble. 'Such kindness as he knows, he regardsher with, I believe. The mother was a gentle, loving, confidingcreature, and although he wounded her from their marriage till her deathas cruelly and wantonly as ever man did, she never ceased to love him.She commended him on her death-bed to her child's care. Her child hasnever forgotten it, and never will.'

'Have you no influence over him?' asked Nicholas.

'I, my dear sir! The last man in the world. Such are his jealousy andhatred of me, that if he knew his daughter had opened her heart to me,he would render her life miserable with his reproaches; although--thisis the inconsistency and selfishness of his character--although if heknew that every penny she had came from me, he would not relinquish onepersonal desire that the most reckless expenditure of her scanty stockcould gratify.'

'An unnatural scoundrel!' said Nicholas, indignantly.

'We will use no harsh terms,' said brother Charles, in a gentle voice;'but accommodate ourselves to the circumstances in which this young ladyis placed. Such assistance as I have prevailed upon her to accept,I have been obliged, at her own earnest request, to dole out in thesmallest portions, lest he, finding how easily money was procured,should squander it even more lightly than he is accustomed to do. Shehas come to and fro, to and fro, secretly and by night, to take eventhis; and I cannot bear that things should go on in this way, MrNickleby, I really cannot bear it.'

Then it came out by little and little, how that the twins had beenrevolving in their good old heads manifold plans and schemes for helpingthis young lady in the most delicate and considerate way, and so thather father should not suspect the source whence the aid was derived; andhow they had at last come to the conclusion, that the best course wouldbe to make a feint of purchasing her little drawings and ornamental workat a high price, and keeping up a constant demand for the same. Forthe furtherance of which end and object it was necessary that somebodyshould represent the dealer in such commodities, and after greatdeliberation they had pitched upon Nicholas to support this character.

'He knows me,' said brother Charles, 'and he knows my brother Ned.Neither of us would do. Frank is a very good fellow--a very finefellow--but we are afraid that he might be a little flighty andthoughtless in such a delicate matter, and that he might, perhaps--thathe might, in short, be too susceptible (for she is a beautiful creature,sir; just what her poor mother was), and falling in love with her beforehe knew well his own mind, carry pain and sorrow into that innocentbreast, which we would be the humble instruments of gradually makinghappy. He took an extraordinary interest in her fortunes when he firsthappened to encounter her; and we gather from the inquiries we have madeof him, that it was she in whose behalf he made that turmoil which ledto your first acquaintance.'

Nicholas stammered out that he had before suspected the possibilityof such a thing; and in explanation of its having occurred to him,described when and where he had seen the young lady himself.

'Well; then you see,' continued brother Charles, 'that HE wouldn'tdo. Tim Linkinwater is out of the question; for Tim, sir, is such atremendous fellow, that he could never contain himself, but would goto loggerheads with the father before he had been in the place fiveminutes. You don't know what Tim is, sir, when he is aroused by anythingthat appeals to his feelings very strongly; then he is terrific, sir,is Tim Linkinwater, absolutely terrific. Now, in you we can repose thestrictest confidence; in you we have seen--or at least I have seen,and that's the same thing, for there's no difference between me and mybrother Ned, except that he is the finest creature that ever lived,and that there is not, and never will be, anybody like him in all theworld--in you we have seen domestic virtues and affections, and delicacyof feeling, which exactly qualify you for such an office. And you arethe man, sir.'

'The young lady, sir,' said Nicholas, who felt so embarrassed that hehad no small difficulty in saying anything at all--'Does--is--is she aparty to this innocent deceit?'

'Yes, yes,' returned Mr Cheeryble; 'at least she knows you come from us;she does NOT know, however, but that we shall dispose of these littleproductions that you'll purchase from time to time; and, perhaps, ifyou did it very well (that is, VERY well indeed), perhaps she might bebrought to believe that we--that we made a profit of them. Eh? Eh?'

In this guileless and most kind simplicity, brother Charles was sohappy, and in this possibility of the young lady being led to think thatshe was under no obligation to him, he evidently felt so sanguine andhad so much delight, that Nicholas would not breathe a doubt upon thesubject.

All this time, however, there hovered upon the tip of his tongue aconfession that the very same objections which Mr Cheeryble had statedto the employment of his nephew in this commission applied with at leastequal force and validity to himself, and a hundred times had he beenupon the point of avowing the real state of his feelings, and entreatingto be released from it. But as often, treading upon the heels of thisimpulse, came another which urged him to refrain, and to keep his secretto his own breast. 'Why should I,' thought Nicholas, 'why should I throwdifficulties in the way of this benevolent and high-minded design? Whatif I do love and reverence this good and lovely creature. Should I notappear a most arrogant and shallow coxcomb if I gravely represented thatthere was any danger of her falling in love with me? Besides, have Ino confidence in myself? Am I not now bound in honour to repress thesethoughts? Has not this excellent man a right to my best and heartiestservices, and should any considerations of self deter me from renderingthem?'

Asking himself such questions as these, Nicholas mentally answeredwith great emphasis 'No!' and persuading himself that he was a mostconscientious and glorious martyr, nobly resolved to do what, if he hadexamined his own heart a little more carefully, he would have found hecould not resist. Such is the sleight of hand by which we jugglewith ourselves, and change our very weaknesses into stanch and mostmagnanimous virtues!

Mr Cheeryble, being of course wholly unsuspicious that such reflectionswere presenting themselves to his young friend, proceeded to give himthe needful credentials and directions for his first visit, which wasto be made next morning; and all preliminaries being arranged, and thestrictest secrecy enjoined, Nicholas walked home for the night verythoughtfully indeed.

The place to which Mr Cheeryble had directed him was a row of mean andnot over-cleanly houses, situated within 'the Rules' of the King'sBench Prison, and not many hundred paces distant from the obelisk in StGeorge's Fields. The Rules are a certain liberty adjoining the prison,and comprising some dozen streets in which debtors who can raise moneyto pay large fees, from which their creditors do NOT derive any benefit,are permitted to reside by the wise provisions of the same enlightenedlaws which leave the debtor who can raise no money to starve in jail,without the food, clothing, lodging, or warmth, which are providedfor felons convicted of the most atrocious crimes that can disgracehumanity. There are many pleasant fictions of the law in constantoperation, but there is not one so pleasant or practically humorous asthat which supposes every man to be of equal value in its impartialeye, and the benefits of all laws to be equally attainable by all men,without the smallest reference to the furniture of their pockets.

To the row of houses indicated to him by Mr Charles Cheeryble, Nicholasdirected his steps, without much troubling his head with such mattersas these; and at this row of houses--after traversing a very dirtyand dusty suburb, of which minor theatricals, shell-fish, ginger-beer,spring vans, greengrocery, and brokers' shops, appeared to composethe main and most prominent features--he at length arrived with apalpitating heart. There were small gardens in front which, being whollyneglected in all other respects, served as little pens for the dust tocollect in, until the wind came round the corner and blew it down theroad. Opening the rickety gate which, dangling on its broken hingesbefore one of these, half admitted and half repulsed the visitor,Nicholas knocked at the street door with a faltering hand.

It was in truth a shabby house outside, with very dim parlour windowsand very small show of blinds, and very dirty muslin curtains danglingacross the lower panes on very loose and limp strings. Neither, when thedoor was opened, did the inside appear to belie the outward promise,as there was faded carpeting on the stairs and faded oil-cloth in thepassage; in addition to which discomforts a gentleman Ruler was smokinghard in the front parlour (though it was not yet noon), while the ladyof the house was busily engaged in turpentining the disjointed fragmentsof a tent-bedstead at the door of the back parlour, as if in preparationfor the reception of some new lodger who had been fortunate enough toengage it.

Nicholas had ample time to make these observations while the little boy,who went on errands for the lodgers, clattered down the kitchen stairsand was heard to scream, as in some remote cellar, for Miss Bray'sservant, who, presently appearing and requesting him to follow her,caused him to evince greater symptoms of nervousness and disorder thanso natural a consequence of his having inquired for that young ladywould seem calculated to occasion.

Upstairs he went, however, and into a front room he was shown, andthere, seated at a little table by the window, on which were drawingmaterials with which she was occupied, sat the beautiful girl who hadso engrossed his thoughts, and who, surrounded by all the new and stronginterest which Nicholas attached to her story, seemed now, in his eyes,a thousand times more beautiful than he had ever yet supposed her.

But how the graces and elegancies which she had dispersed about thepoorly-furnished room went to the heart of Nicholas! Flowers, plants,birds, the harp, the old piano whose notes had sounded so much sweeterin bygone times; how many struggles had it cost her to keep these twolast links of that broken chain which bound her yet to home! With everyslender ornament, the occupation of her leisure hours, replete with thatgraceful charm which lingers in every little tasteful work of woman'shands, how much patient endurance and how many gentle affections wereentwined! He felt as though the smile of Heaven were on the littlechamber; as though the beautiful devotion of so young and weak acreature had shed a ray of its own on the inanimate things around,and made them beautiful as itself; as though the halo with which oldpainters surround the bright angels of a sinless world played about abeing akin in spirit to them, and its light were visibly before him.

And yet Nicholas was in the Rules of the King's Bench Prison! If hehad been in Italy indeed, and the time had been sunset, and the scenea stately terrace! But, there is one broad sky over all the world, andwhether it be blue or cloudy, the same heaven beyond it; so, perhaps, hehad no need of compunction for thinking as he did.

It is not to be supposed that he took in everything at one glance, forhe had as yet been unconscious of the presence of a sick man propped upwith pillows in an easy-chair, who, moving restlessly and impatiently inhis seat, attracted his attention.

He was scarce fifty, perhaps, but so emaciated as to appear much older.His features presented the remains of a handsome countenance, but onein which the embers of strong and impetuous passions were easier to betraced than any expression which would have rendered a far plainer facemuch more prepossessing. His looks were very haggard, and his limbs andbody literally worn to the bone, but there was something of the old firein the large sunken eye notwithstanding, and it seemed to kindle afreshas he struck a thick stick, with which he seemed to have supportedhimself in his seat, impatiently on the floor twice or thrice, andcalled his daughter by her name.

'Madeline, who is this? What does anybody want here? Who told a strangerwe could be seen? What is it?'

'I believe--' the young lady began, as she inclined her head with an airof some confusion, in reply to the salutation of Nicholas.

'You always believe,' returned her father, petulantly. 'What is it?'

By this time Nicholas had recovered sufficient presence of mind to speakfor himself, so he said (as it had been agreed he should say) that hehad called about a pair of hand-screens, and some painted velvet for anottoman, both of which were required to be of the most elegant designpossible, neither time nor expense being of the smallest consideration.He had also to pay for the two drawings, with many thanks, and,advancing to the little table, he laid upon it a bank note, folded in anenvelope and sealed.

'See that the money is right, Madeline,' said the father. 'Open thepaper, my dear.'

'It's quite right, papa, I'm sure.'

'Here!' said Mr Bray, putting out his hand, and opening and shuttinghis bony fingers with irritable impatience. 'Let me see. What are youtalking about, Madeline? You're sure? How can you be sure of any suchthing? Five pounds--well, is THAT right?'

'Quite,' said Madeline, bending over him. She was so busily employed inarranging the pillows that Nicholas could not see her face, but as shestooped he thought he saw a tear fall.

'Ring the bell, ring the bell,' said the sick man, with the same nervouseagerness, and motioning towards it with such a quivering hand that thebank note rustled in the air. 'Tell her to get it changed, to get me anewspaper, to buy me some grapes, another bottle of the wine that I hadlast week--and--and--I forget half I want just now, but she can go outagain. Let her get those first, those first. Now, Madeline, my love,quick, quick! Good God, how slow you are!'

'He remembers nothing that SHE wants!' thought Nicholas. Perhapssomething of what he thought was expressed in his countenance, for thesick man, turning towards him with great asperity, demanded to know ifhe waited for a receipt.

'It is no matter at all,' said Nicholas.

'No matter! what do you mean, sir?' was the tart rejoinder. 'No matter!Do you think you bring your paltry money here as a favour or a gift;or as a matter of business, and in return for value received? D--n you,sir, because you can't appreciate the time and taste which are bestowedupon the goods you deal in, do you think you give your money away? Doyou know that you are talking to a gentleman, sir, who at one timecould have bought up fifty such men as you and all you have? What do youmean?'

'I merely mean that as I shall have many dealings with this lady, ifshe will kindly allow me, I will not trouble her with such forms,' saidNicholas.

'Then I mean, if you please, that we'll have as many forms as we can,returned the father. 'My daughter, sir, requires no kindness from youor anybody else. Have the goodness to confine your dealings strictly totrade and business, and not to travel beyond it. Every petty tradesmanis to begin to pity her now, is he? Upon my soul! Very pretty. Madeline,my dear, give him a receipt; and mind you always do so.'

While she was feigning to write it, and Nicholas was ruminating upon theextraordinary but by no means uncommon character thus presented to hisobservation, the invalid, who appeared at times to suffer great bodilypain, sank back in his chair and moaned out a feeble complaint that thegirl had been gone an hour, and that everybody conspired to goad him.

'When,' said Nicholas, as he took the piece of paper, 'when shall I callagain?'

This was addressed to the daughter, but the father answered immediately.

'When you're requested to call, sir, and not before. Don't worry andpersecute. Madeline, my dear, when is this person to call again?'

'Oh, not for a long time, not for three or four weeks; it is notnecessary, indeed; I can do without,' said the young lady, with greateagerness.

'Why, how are we to do without?' urged her father, not speaking abovehis breath. 'Three or four weeks, Madeline! Three or four weeks!'

'Then sooner, sooner, if you please,' said the young lady, turning toNicholas.

'Three or four weeks!' muttered the father. 'Madeline, what on earth--donothing for three or four weeks!'

'It is a long time, ma'am,' said Nicholas.

'YOU think so, do you?' retorted the father, angrily. 'If I chose tobeg, sir, and stoop to ask assistance from people I despise, three orfour months would not be a long time; three or four years would not be along time. Understand, sir, that is if I chose to be dependent; but as Idon't, you may call in a week.'

Nicholas bowed low to the young lady and retired, pondering upon MrBray's ideas of independence, and devoutly hoping that there mightbe few such independent spirits as he mingling with the baser clay ofhumanity.

He heard a light footstep above him as he descended the stairs, andlooking round saw that the young lady was standing there, and glancingtimidly towards him, seemed to hesitate whether she should call him backor no. The best way of settling the question was to turn back at once,which Nicholas did.

'I don't know whether I do right in asking you, sir,' said Madeline,hurriedly, 'but pray, pray, do not mention to my poor mother's dearfriends what has passed here today. He has suffered much, and is worsethis morning. I beg you, sir, as a boon, a favour to myself.'

'You have but to hint a wish,' returned Nicholas fervently, 'and I wouldhazard my life to gratify it.'

'You speak hastily, sir.'

'Truly and sincerely,' rejoined Nicholas, his lips trembling as heformed the words, 'if ever man spoke truly yet. I am not skilled indisguising my feelings, and if I were, I could not hide my heart fromyou. Dear madam, as I know your history, and feel as men and angels mustwho hear and see such things, I do entreat you to believe that I woulddie to serve you.'

The young lady turned away her head, and was plainly weeping.

'Forgive me,' said Nicholas, with respectful earnestness, 'if I seem tosay too much, or to presume upon the confidence which has been intrustedto me. But I could not leave you as if my interest and sympathy expiredwith the commission of the day. I am your faithful servant, humblydevoted to you from this hour, devoted in strict truth and honour to himwho sent me here, and in pure integrity of heart, and distant respectfor you. If I meant more or less than this, I should be unworthy hisregard, and false to the very nature that prompts the honest words Iutter.'

She waved her hand, entreating him to be gone, but answered not a word.Nicholas could say no more, and silently withdrew. And thus ended hisfirst interview with Madeline Bray.