Acquaints the Reader with the Cause and Origin of the Interruption
described in the last Chapter, and with some other Matters necessary to
be known
Newman Noggs scrambled in violent haste upstairs with the steaming
beverage, which he had so unceremoniously snatched from the table of Mr
Kenwigs, and indeed from the very grasp of the water-rate collector, who
was eyeing the contents of the tumbler, at the moment of its unexpected
abstraction, with lively marks of pleasure visible in his countenance.
He bore his prize straight to his own back-garret, where, footsore and
nearly shoeless, wet, dirty, jaded, and disfigured with every mark of
fatiguing travel, sat Nicholas and Smike, at once the cause and partner
of his toil; both perfectly worn out by their unwonted and protracted
exertion.
Newman’s first act was to compel Nicholas, with gentle force, to swallow
half of the punch at a breath, nearly boiling as it was; and his next,
to pour the remainder down the throat of Smike, who, never having tasted
anything stronger than aperient medicine in his whole life, exhibited
various odd manifestations of surprise and delight, during the passage
of the liquor down his throat, and turned up his eyes most emphatically
when it was all gone.
‘You are wet through,’ said Newman, passing his hand hastily over the
coat which Nicholas had thrown off; ‘and I--I--haven’t even a change,’
he added, with a wistful glance at the shabby clothes he wore himself.
‘I have dry clothes, or at least such as will serve my turn well, in
my bundle,’ replied Nicholas. ‘If you look so distressed to see me, you
will add to the pain I feel already, at being compelled, for one night,
to cast myself upon your slender means for aid and shelter.’
Newman did not look the less distressed to hear Nicholas talking in this
strain; but, upon his young friend grasping him heartily by the hand,
and assuring him that nothing but implicit confidence in the sincerity
of his professions, and kindness of feeling towards himself, would have
induced him, on any consideration, even to have made him acquainted
with his arrival in London, Mr. Noggs brightened up again, and went about
making such arrangements as were in his power for the comfort of his
visitors, with extreme alacrity.
These were simple enough; poor Newman’s means halting at a very
considerable distance short of his inclinations; but, slight as they
were, they were not made without much bustling and running about. As
Nicholas had husbanded his scanty stock of money, so well that it was
not yet quite expended, a supper of bread and cheese, with some cold
beef from the cook’s shop, was soon placed upon the table; and these
viands being flanked by a bottle of spirits and a pot of porter, there
was no ground for apprehension on the score of hunger or thirst, at all
events. Such preparations as Newman had it in his power to make, for
the accommodation of his guests during the night, occupied no very great
time in completing; and as he had insisted, as an express preliminary,
that Nicholas should change his clothes, and that Smike should invest
himself in his solitary coat (which no entreaties would dissuade him
from stripping off for the purpose), the travellers partook of their
frugal fare, with more satisfaction than one of them at least had
derived from many a better meal.
They then drew near the fire, which Newman Noggs had made up as well as
he could, after the inroads of Crowl upon the fuel; and Nicholas, who
had hitherto been restrained by the extreme anxiety of his friend
that he should refresh himself after his journey, now pressed him with
earnest questions concerning his mother and sister.
‘Well,’ replied Newman, with his accustomed taciturnity; ‘both well.’
‘They are living in the city still?’ inquired Nicholas.
‘They are,’ said Newman.
‘And my sister,’--added Nicholas. ‘Is she still engaged in the business
which she wrote to tell me she thought she should like so much?’
Newman opened his eyes rather wider than usual, but merely replied by
a gasp, which, according to the action of the head that accompanied
it, was interpreted by his friends as meaning yes or no. In the present
instance, the pantomime consisted of a nod, and not a shake; so Nicholas
took the answer as a favourable one.
‘Now listen to me,’ said Nicholas, laying his hand on Newman’s shoulder.
‘Before I would make an effort to see them, I deemed it expedient to
come to you, lest, by gratifying my own selfish desire, I should inflict
an injury upon them which I can never repair. What has my uncle heard
from Yorkshire?’
Newman opened and shut his mouth, several times, as though he were
trying his utmost to speak, but could make nothing of it, and finally
fixed his eyes on Nicholas with a grim and ghastly stare.
‘What has he heard?’ urged Nicholas, colouring. ‘You see that I am
prepared to hear the very worst that malice can have suggested. Why
should you conceal it from me? I must know it sooner or later; and what
purpose can be gained by trifling with the matter for a few minutes,
when half the time would put me in possession of all that has occurred?
Tell me at once, pray.’
‘Tomorrow morning,’ said Newman; ‘hear it tomorrow.’
‘What purpose would that answer?’ urged Nicholas.
‘You would sleep the better,’ replied Newman.
‘I should sleep the worse,’ answered Nicholas, impatiently. ‘Sleep!
Exhausted as I am, and standing in no common need of rest, I cannot hope
to close my eyes all night, unless you tell me everything.’
‘And if I should tell you everything,’ said Newman, hesitating.
‘Why, then you may rouse my indignation or wound my pride,’ rejoined
Nicholas; ‘but you will not break my rest; for if the scene were acted
over again, I could take no other part than I have taken; and whatever
consequences may accrue to myself from it, I shall never regret doing as
I have done--never, if I starve or beg in consequence. What is a little
poverty or suffering, to the disgrace of the basest and most inhuman
cowardice! I tell you, if I had stood by, tamely and passively, I should
have hated myself, and merited the contempt of every man in existence.
The black-hearted scoundrel!’
With this gentle allusion to the absent Mr. Squeers, Nicholas repressed
his rising wrath, and relating to Newman exactly what had passed at
Dotheboys Hall, entreated him to speak out without more pressing. Thus
adjured, Mr. Noggs took, from an old trunk, a sheet of paper, which
appeared to have been scrawled over in great haste; and after sundry
extraordinary demonstrations of reluctance, delivered himself in the
following terms.
‘My dear young man, you mustn’t give way to--this sort of thing
will never do, you know--as to getting on in the world, if you take
everybody’s part that’s ill-treated--Damn it, I am proud to hear of it;
and would have done it myself!’
Newman accompanied this very unusual outbreak with a violent blow upon
the table, as if, in the heat of the moment, he had mistaken it for the
chest or ribs of Mr. Wackford Squeers. Having, by this open declaration
of his feelings, quite precluded himself from offering Nicholas any
cautious worldly advice (which had been his first intention), Mr. Noggs
went straight to the point.
‘The day before yesterday,’ said Newman, ‘your uncle received this
letter. I took a hasty copy of it, while he was out. Shall I read it?’
‘If you please,’ replied Nicholas. Newman Noggs accordingly read as
follows:
‘DOTHEBOYS HALL, ‘THURSDAY MORNING.
‘SIR,
‘My pa requests me to write to you, the doctors considering it doubtful
whether he will ever recuvver the use of his legs which prevents his
holding a pen.
‘We are in a state of mind beyond everything, and my pa is one mask of
brooses both blue and green likewise two forms are steepled in his Goar.
We were kimpelled to have him carried down into the kitchen where he now
lays. You will judge from this that he has been brought very low.
‘When your nevew that you recommended for a teacher had done this to
my pa and jumped upon his body with his feet and also langwedge which
I will not pollewt my pen with describing, he assaulted my ma with
dreadful violence, dashed her to the earth, and drove her back comb
several inches into her head. A very little more and it must have
entered her skull. We have a medical certifiket that if it had, the
tortershell would have affected the brain.
‘Me and my brother were then the victims of his feury since which we
have suffered very much which leads us to the arrowing belief that we
have received some injury in our insides, especially as no marks of
violence are visible externally. I am screaming out loud all the time
I write and so is my brother which takes off my attention rather and I
hope will excuse mistakes.
‘The monster having sasiated his thirst for blood ran away, taking with
him a boy of desperate character that he had excited to rebellyon, and a
garnet ring belonging to my ma, and not having been apprehended by the
constables is supposed to have been took up by some stage-coach. My pa
begs that if he comes to you the ring may be returned, and that you will
let the thief and assassin go, as if we prosecuted him he would only be
transported, and if he is let go he is sure to be hung before long which
will save us trouble and be much more satisfactory. Hoping to hear from
you when convenient
‘I remain ‘Yours and cetrer ‘FANNY SQUEERS.
‘P.S. I pity his ignorance and despise him.’
A profound silence succeeded to the reading of this choice epistle,
during which Newman Noggs, as he folded it up, gazed with a kind of
grotesque pity at the boy of desperate character therein referred to;
who, having no more distinct perception of the matter in hand, than that
he had been the unfortunate cause of heaping trouble and falsehood
upon Nicholas, sat mute and dispirited, with a most woe-begone and
heart-stricken look.
‘Mr. Noggs,’ said Nicholas, after a few moments’ reflection, ‘I must go
out at once.’
‘Go out!’ cried Newman.
‘Yes,’ said Nicholas, ‘to Golden Square. Nobody who knows me would
believe this story of the ring; but it may suit the purpose, or gratify
the hatred of Mr. Ralph Nickleby to feign to attach credence to it. It
is due--not to him, but to myself--that I should state the truth; and
moreover, I have a word or two to exchange with him, which will not keep
cool.’
‘They must,’ said Newman.
‘They must not, indeed,’ rejoined Nicholas firmly, as he prepared to
leave the house.
‘Hear me speak,’ said Newman, planting himself before his impetuous
young friend. ‘He is not there. He is away from town. He will not be
back for three days; and I know that letter will not be answered before
he returns.’
‘Are you sure of this?’ asked Nicholas, chafing violently, and pacing
the narrow room with rapid strides.
‘Quite,’ rejoined Newman. ‘He had hardly read it when he was called
away. Its contents are known to nobody but himself and us.’
‘Are you certain?’ demanded Nicholas, precipitately; ‘not even to my
mother or sister? If I thought that they--I will go there--I must see
them. Which is the way? Where is it?’
‘Now, be advised by me,’ said Newman, speaking for the moment, in his
earnestness, like any other man--‘make no effort to see even them, till
he comes home. I know the man. Do not seem to have been tampering with
anybody. When he returns, go straight to him, and speak as boldly as you
like. Guessing at the real truth, he knows it as well as you or I. Trust
him for that.’
‘You mean well to me, and should know him better than I can,’ replied
Nicholas, after some consideration. ‘Well; let it be so.’
Newman, who had stood during the foregoing conversation with his back
planted against the door, ready to oppose any egress from the apartment
by force, if necessary, resumed his seat with much satisfaction; and
as the water in the kettle was by this time boiling, made a glassful
of spirits and water for Nicholas, and a cracked mug-full for the joint
accommodation of himself and Smike, of which the two partook in great
harmony, while Nicholas, leaning his head upon his hand, remained buried
in melancholy meditation.
Meanwhile, the company below stairs, after listening attentively and
not hearing any noise which would justify them in interfering for
the gratification of their curiosity, returned to the chamber of the
Kenwigses, and employed themselves in hazarding a great variety of
conjectures relative to the cause of Mr. Noggs’ sudden disappearance and
detention.
‘Lor, I’ll tell you what,’ said Mrs. Kenwigs. ‘Suppose it should be an
express sent up to say that his property has all come back again!’
‘Dear me,’ said Mr. Kenwigs; ‘it’s not impossible. Perhaps, in that case,
we’d better send up and ask if he won’t take a little more punch.’
‘Kenwigs!’ said Mr. Lillyvick, in a loud voice, ‘I’m surprised at you.’
‘What’s the matter, sir?’ asked Mr. Kenwigs, with becoming submission to
the collector of water-rates.
‘Making such a remark as that, sir,’ replied Mr. Lillyvick, angrily. ‘He
has had punch already, has he not, sir? I consider the way in which that
punch was cut off, if I may use the expression, highly disrespectful to
this company; scandalous, perfectly scandalous. It may be the custom to
allow such things in this house, but it’s not the kind of behaviour
that I’ve been used to see displayed, and so I don’t mind telling you,
Kenwigs. A gentleman has a glass of punch before him to which he is just
about to set his lips, when another gentleman comes and collars that
glass of punch, without a “with your leave”, or “by your leave”, and
carries that glass of punch away. This may be good manners--I dare say
it is--but I don’t understand it, that’s all; and what’s more, I don’t
care if I never do. It’s my way to speak my mind, Kenwigs, and that is
my mind; and if you don’t like it, it’s past my regular time for going
to bed, and I can find my way home without making it later.’
Here was an untoward event! The collector had sat swelling and fuming
in offended dignity for some minutes, and had now fairly burst out. The
great man--the rich relation--the unmarried uncle--who had it in his
power to make Morleena an heiress, and the very baby a legatee--was
offended. Gracious Powers, where was this to end!
‘I am very sorry, sir,’ said Mr. Kenwigs, humbly.
‘Don’t tell me you’re sorry,’ retorted Mr. Lillyvick, with much
sharpness. ‘You should have prevented it, then.’
The company were quite paralysed by this domestic crash. The
back-parlour sat with her mouth wide open, staring vacantly at the
collector, in a stupor of dismay; the other guests were scarcely less
overpowered by the great man’s irritation. Mr. Kenwigs, not being skilful
in such matters, only fanned the flame in attempting to extinguish it.
‘I didn’t think of it, I am sure, sir,’ said that gentleman. ‘I didn’t
suppose that such a little thing as a glass of punch would have put you
out of temper.’
‘Out of temper! What the devil do you mean by that piece of
impertinence, Mr. Kenwigs?’ said the collector. ‘Morleena, child--give me
my hat.’
‘Oh, you’re not going, Mr. Lillyvick, sir,’ interposed Miss Petowker,
with her most bewitching smile.
But still Mr. Lillyvick, regardless of the siren, cried obdurately,
‘Morleena, my hat!’ upon the fourth repetition of which demand, Mrs
Kenwigs sunk back in her chair, with a cry that might have softened a
water-butt, not to say a water-collector; while the four little girls
(privately instructed to that effect) clasped their uncle’s drab shorts
in their arms, and prayed him, in imperfect English, to remain.
‘Why should I stop here, my dears?’ said Mr. Lillyvick; ‘I’m not wanted
here.’
‘Oh, do not speak so cruelly, uncle,’ sobbed Mrs. Kenwigs, ‘unless you
wish to kill me.’
‘I shouldn’t wonder if some people were to say I did,’ replied Mr
Lillyvick, glancing angrily at Kenwigs. ‘Out of temper!’
‘Oh! I cannot bear to see him look so, at my husband,’ cried Mrs
Kenwigs. ‘It’s so dreadful in families. Oh!’
‘Mr. Lillyvick,’ said Kenwigs, ‘I hope, for the sake of your niece, that
you won’t object to be reconciled.’
The collector’s features relaxed, as the company added their entreaties
to those of his nephew-in-law. He gave up his hat, and held out his
hand.
‘There, Kenwigs,’ said Mr. Lillyvick; ‘and let me tell you, at the same
time, to show you how much out of temper I was, that if I had gone away
without another word, it would have made no difference respecting that
pound or two which I shall leave among your children when I die.’
‘Morleena Kenwigs,’ cried her mother, in a torrent of affection. ‘Go
down upon your knees to your dear uncle, and beg him to love you all
his life through, for he’s more a angel than a man, and I’ve always said
so.’
Miss Morleena approaching to do homage, in compliance with this
injunction, was summarily caught up and kissed by Mr. Lillyvick; and
thereupon Mrs. Kenwigs darted forward and kissed the collector, and
an irrepressible murmur of applause broke from the company who had
witnessed his magnanimity.
The worthy gentleman then became once more the life and soul of the
society; being again reinstated in his old post of lion, from which high
station the temporary distraction of their thoughts had for a moment
dispossessed him. Quadruped lions are said to be savage, only when they
are hungry; biped lions are rarely sulky longer than when their appetite
for distinction remains unappeased. Mr. Lillyvick stood higher than ever;
for he had shown his power; hinted at his property and testamentary
intentions; gained great credit for disinterestedness and virtue; and,
in addition to all, was finally accommodated with a much larger tumbler
of punch than that which Newman Noggs had so feloniously made off with.
‘I say! I beg everybody’s pardon for intruding again,’ said Crowl,
looking in at this happy juncture; ‘but what a queer business this is,
isn’t it? Noggs has lived in this house, now going on for five years,
and nobody has ever been to see him before, within the memory of the
oldest inhabitant.’
‘It’s a strange time of night to be called away, sir, certainly,’ said
the collector; ‘and the behaviour of Mr. Noggs himself, is, to say the
least of it, mysterious.’
‘Well, so it is,’ rejoined Crowl; ‘and I’ll tell you what’s more--I
think these two geniuses, whoever they are, have run away from
somewhere.’
‘What makes you think that, sir?’ demanded the collector, who seemed, by
a tacit understanding, to have been chosen and elected mouthpiece to
the company. ‘You have no reason to suppose that they have run away from
anywhere without paying the rates and taxes due, I hope?’
Mr. Crowl, with a look of some contempt, was about to enter a general
protest against the payment of rates or taxes, under any circumstances,
when he was checked by a timely whisper from Kenwigs, and several frowns
and winks from Mrs. K., which providentially stopped him.
‘Why the fact is,’ said Crowl, who had been listening at Newman’s door
with all his might and main; ‘the fact is, that they have been talking
so loud, that they quite disturbed me in my room, and so I couldn’t
help catching a word here, and a word there; and all I heard, certainly
seemed to refer to their having bolted from some place or other. I don’t
wish to alarm Mrs. Kenwigs; but I hope they haven’t come from any jail or
hospital, and brought away a fever or some unpleasantness of that sort,
which might be catching for the children.’
Mrs. Kenwigs was so overpowered by this supposition, that it needed all
the tender attentions of Miss Petowker, of the Theatre Royal, Drury
Lane, to restore her to anything like a state of calmness; not to
mention the assiduity of Mr. Kenwigs, who held a fat smelling-bottle to
his lady’s nose, until it became matter of some doubt whether the tears
which coursed down her face were the result of feelings or SAL VOLATILE.
The ladies, having expressed their sympathy, singly and separately,
fell, according to custom, into a little chorus of soothing expressions,
among which, such condolences as ‘Poor dear!’--‘I should feel just the
same, if I was her’--‘To be sure, it’s a very trying thing’--and ‘Nobody
but a mother knows what a mother’s feelings is,’ were among the most
prominent, and most frequently repeated. In short, the opinion of the
company was so clearly manifested, that Mr. Kenwigs was on the point of
repairing to Mr. Noggs’s room, to demand an explanation, and had indeed
swallowed a preparatory glass of punch, with great inflexibility and
steadiness of purpose, when the attention of all present was diverted by
a new and terrible surprise.
This was nothing less than the sudden pouring forth of a rapid
succession of the shrillest and most piercing screams, from an upper
story; and to all appearance from the very two-pair back, in which
the infant Kenwigs was at that moment enshrined. They were no sooner
audible, than Mrs. Kenwigs, opining that a strange cat had come in, and
sucked the baby’s breath while the girl was asleep, made for the door,
wringing her hands, and shrieking dismally; to the great consternation
and confusion of the company.
‘Mr. Kenwigs, see what it is; make haste!’ cried the sister, laying
violent hands upon Mrs. Kenwigs, and holding her back by force. ‘Oh don’t
twist about so, dear, or I can never hold you.’
‘My baby, my blessed, blessed, blessed, blessed baby!’ screamed Mrs
Kenwigs, making every blessed louder than the last. ‘My own darling,
sweet, innocent Lillyvick--Oh let me go to him. Let me go-o-o-o!’
Pending the utterance of these frantic cries, and the wails and
lamentations of the four little girls, Mr. Kenwigs rushed upstairs to the
room whence the sounds proceeded; at the door of which, he encountered
Nicholas, with the child in his arms, who darted out with such violence,
that the anxious father was thrown down six stairs, and alighted on the
nearest landing-place, before he had found time to open his mouth to ask
what was the matter.
‘Don’t be alarmed,’ cried Nicholas, running down; ‘here it is; it’s all
out, it’s all over; pray compose yourselves; there’s no harm done;’
and with these, and a thousand other assurances, he delivered the baby
(whom, in his hurry, he had carried upside down), to Mrs. Kenwigs, and
ran back to assist Mr. Kenwigs, who was rubbing his head very hard, and
looking much bewildered by his tumble.
Reassured by this cheering intelligence, the company in some degree
recovered from their fears, which had been productive of some most
singular instances of a total want of presence of mind; thus, the
bachelor friend had, for a long time, supported in his arms Mrs
Kenwigs’s sister, instead of Mrs. Kenwigs; and the worthy Mr. Lillyvick
had been actually seen, in the perturbation of his spirits, to kiss Miss
Petowker several times, behind the room-door, as calmly as if nothing
distressing were going forward.
‘It is a mere nothing,’ said Nicholas, returning to Mrs. Kenwigs; ‘the
little girl, who was watching the child, being tired I suppose, fell
asleep, and set her hair on fire.’
‘Oh you malicious little wretch!’ cried Mrs. Kenwigs, impressively
shaking her forefinger at the small unfortunate, who might be thirteen
years old, and was looking on with a singed head and a frightened face.
‘I heard her cries,’ continued Nicholas, ‘and ran down, in time to
prevent her setting fire to anything else. You may depend upon it that
the child is not hurt; for I took it off the bed myself, and brought it
here to convince you.’
This brief explanation over, the infant, who, as he was christened after
the collector! rejoiced in the names of Lillyvick Kenwigs, was partially
suffocated under the caresses of the audience, and squeezed to his
mother’s bosom, until he roared again. The attention of the company was
then directed, by a natural transition, to the little girl who had had
the audacity to burn her hair off, and who, after receiving sundry small
slaps and pushes from the more energetic of the ladies, was mercifully
sent home: the ninepence, with which she was to have been rewarded,
being escheated to the Kenwigs family.
‘And whatever we are to say to you, sir,’ exclaimed Mrs. Kenwigs,
addressing young Lillyvick’s deliverer, ‘I am sure I don’t know.’
‘You need say nothing at all,’ replied Nicholas. ‘I have done nothing to
found any very strong claim upon your eloquence, I am sure.’
‘He might have been burnt to death, if it hadn’t been for you, sir,’
simpered Miss Petowker.
‘Not very likely, I think,’ replied Nicholas; ‘for there was abundance
of assistance here, which must have reached him before he had been in
any danger.’
‘You will let us drink your health, anyvays, sir!’ said Mr. Kenwigs
motioning towards the table.
‘--In my absence, by all means,’ rejoined Nicholas, with a smile.
‘I have had a very fatiguing journey, and should be most indifferent
company--a far greater check upon your merriment, than a promoter of it,
even if I kept awake, which I think very doubtful. If you will allow
me, I’ll return to my friend, Mr. Noggs, who went upstairs again, when he
found nothing serious had occurred. Good-night.’
Excusing himself, in these terms, from joining in the festivities,
Nicholas took a most winning farewell of Mrs. Kenwigs and the other
ladies, and retired, after making a very extraordinary impression upon
the company.
‘What a delightful young man!’ cried Mrs. Kenwigs.
‘Uncommon gentlemanly, really,’ said Mr. Kenwigs. ‘Don’t you think so, Mr
Lillyvick?’
‘Yes,’ said the collector, with a dubious shrug of his shoulders, ‘He is
gentlemanly, very gentlemanly--in appearance.’
‘I hope you don’t see anything against him, uncle?’ inquired Mrs
Kenwigs.
‘No, my dear,’ replied the collector, ‘no. I trust he may not turn
out--well--no matter--my love to you, my dear, and long life to the
baby!’
‘Your namesake,’ said Mrs. Kenwigs, with a sweet smile.
‘And I hope a worthy namesake,’ observed Mr. Kenwigs, willing to
propitiate the collector. ‘I hope a baby as will never disgrace his
godfather, and as may be considered, in arter years, of a piece with the
Lillyvicks whose name he bears. I do say--and Mrs. Kenwigs is of the same
sentiment, and feels it as strong as I do--that I consider his being
called Lillyvick one of the greatest blessings and Honours of my
existence.’
‘THE greatest blessing, Kenwigs,’ murmured his lady.
‘THE greatest blessing,’ said Mr. Kenwigs, correcting himself. ‘A
blessing that I hope, one of these days, I may be able to deserve.’
This was a politic stroke of the Kenwigses, because it made Mr. Lillyvick
the great head and fountain of the baby’s importance. The good gentleman
felt the delicacy and dexterity of the touch, and at once proposed the
health of the gentleman, name unknown, who had signalised himself, that
night, by his coolness and alacrity.
‘Who, I don’t mind saying,’ observed Mr. Lillyvick, as a great
concession, ‘is a good-looking young man enough, with manners that I
hope his character may be equal to.’
‘He has a very nice face and style, really,’ said Mrs. Kenwigs.
‘He certainly has,’ added Miss Petowker. ‘There’s something in his
appearance quite--dear, dear, what’s that word again?’
‘What word?’ inquired Mr. Lillyvick.
‘Why--dear me, how stupid I am,’ replied Miss Petowker, hesitating.
‘What do you call it, when Lords break off door-knockers and beat
policemen, and play at coaches with other people’s money, and all that
sort of thing?’
‘Aristocratic?’ suggested the collector.
‘Ah! aristocratic,’ replied Miss Petowker; ‘something very aristocratic
about him, isn’t there?’
The gentleman held their peace, and smiled at each other, as who should
say, ‘Well! there’s no accounting for tastes;’ but the ladies resolved
unanimously that Nicholas had an aristocratic air; and nobody caring to
dispute the position, it was established triumphantly.
The punch being, by this time, drunk out, and the little Kenwigses (who
had for some time previously held their little eyes open with their
little forefingers) becoming fractious, and requesting rather urgently
to be put to bed, the collector made a move by pulling out his watch,
and acquainting the company that it was nigh two o’clock; whereat some
of the guests were surprised and others shocked, and hats and bonnets
being groped for under the tables, and in course of time found, their
owners went away, after a vast deal of shaking of hands, and many
remarks how they had never spent such a delightful evening, and how
they marvelled to find it so late, expecting to have heard that it was
half-past ten at the very latest, and how they wished that Mr. and Mrs
Kenwigs had a wedding-day once a week, and how they wondered by what
hidden agency Mrs. Kenwigs could possibly have managed so well; and
a great deal more of the same kind. To all of which flattering
expressions, Mr. and Mrs. Kenwigs replied, by thanking every lady and
gentleman, SERIATIM, for the favour of their company, and hoping they
might have enjoyed themselves only half as well as they said they had.
As to Nicholas, quite unconscious of the impression he had produced, he
had long since fallen asleep, leaving Mr. Newman Noggs and Smike to empty
the spirit bottle between them; and this office they performed with
such extreme good-will, that Newman was equally at a loss to determine
whether he himself was quite sober, and whether he had ever seen any
gentleman so heavily, drowsily, and completely intoxicated as his new
acquaintance.