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383 her assistance would no longer be required--a piece of intelligence with which Mrs Nickleby was no sooner made acquainted, than that good lady declared she had expected it all along and cited divers unknown occasions on which she had prophesied to that precise effect. ‘And I say again,’ remarked Mrs Nickleby (who, it is scarcely necessary to observe, had never said so before), ‘I say again, that a milliner’s and dressmaker’s is the very last description of business, Kate, that you should have thought of attaching yourself to. I don’t make it a reproach to you, my love; but still I will say, that if you had consulted your own mother--’ ‘Well, well, mama,’ said Kate, mildly: ‘what would you recommend now?’ ‘Recommend!’ cried Mrs Nickleby, ‘isn’t it obvious, my dear, that of all occupations in this world for a young lady situated as you are, that of companion to some amiable lady is the very thing for which your education, and manners, and personal appearance, and everything else, exactly qualify you? Did you never hear your poor dear papa speak of the young lady who was the daughter of the old lady who boarded in the same house that he boarded in once, when he was a bachelor--what was her name again? I know it began with a B, and ended with g, but whether it was Waters or--no, it couldn’t have been that, either; but whatever her name was, don’t you know that that young lady went as companion to a married lady who died soon afterwards, and that she married the husband, and had one of the finest little boys that the medical man had ever seen--all within eighteen months?’ Kate knew, perfectly well, that this torrent of favourable recollection was occasioned by some opening, real or imaginary, |