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Support the Monkey! Tell All your Friends and Teachers |
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Support the Monkey! Tell All your Friends and Teachers |
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49 interview, to wipe her dirty face clean, upon an apron much dirtier. ‘What name?’ said the girl. ‘Nickleby,’ replied Ralph. ‘Oh! Mrs Nickleby,’ said the girl, throwing open the door, ‘here’s Mr Nickleby.’ A lady in deep mourning rose as Mr Ralph Nickleby entered, but appeared incapable of advancing to meet him, and leant upon the arm of a slight but very beautiful girl of about seventeen, who had been sitting by her. A youth, who appeared a year or two older, stepped forward and saluted Ralph as his uncle. ‘Oh,’ growled Ralph, with an ill-favoured frown, ‘you are Nicholas, I suppose?’ ‘That is my name, sir,’ replied the youth. ‘Put my hat down,’ said Ralph, imperiously. ‘Well, ma’am, how do you do? You must bear up against sorrow, ma’am; I always do.’ ‘Mine was no common loss!’ said Mrs Nickleby, applying her handkerchief to her eyes. ‘It was no uncommon loss, ma’am,’ returned Ralph, as he coolly unbuttoned his spencer. ‘Husbands die every day, ma’am, and wives too.’ ‘And brothers also, sir,’ said Nicholas, with a glance of indignation. ‘Yes, sir, and puppies, and pug-dogs likewise,’ replied his uncle, taking a chair. ‘You didn’t mention in your letter what my brother’s complaint was, ma’am.’ ‘The doctors could attribute it to no particular disease,’ said Mrs Nickleby; shedding tears. ‘We have too much reason to fear that he died of a broken heart.’ |
