|
Support the Monkey! Tell All your Friends and Teachers |
||||
 |
||||
|
Support the Monkey! Tell All your Friends and Teachers |
||||
|
|
||||
50 ‘Pooh!’ said Ralph, ‘there’s no such thing. I can understand a man’s dying of a broken neck, or suffering from a broken arm, or a broken head, or a broken leg, or a broken nose; but a broken heart!--nonsense, it’s the cant of the day. If a man can’t pay his debts, he dies of a broken heart, and his widow’s a martyr.’ ‘Some people, I believe, have no hearts to break,’ observed Nicholas, quietly. ‘How old is this boy, for God’s sake?’ inquired Ralph, wheeling back his chair, and surveying his nephew from head to foot with intense scorn. ‘Nicholas is very nearly nineteen,’ replied the widow. ‘Nineteen, eh!’ said Ralph; ‘and what do you mean to do for your bread, sir?’ ‘Not to live upon my mother,’ replied Nicholas, his heart swelling as he spoke. ‘You’d have little enough to live upon, if you did,’ retorted the uncle, eyeing him contemptuously. ‘Whatever it be,’ said Nicholas, flushed with anger, ‘I shall not look to you to make it more.’ ‘Nicholas, my dear, recollect yourself,’ remonstrated Mrs Nickleby. ‘Dear Nicholas, pray,’ urged the young lady. ‘Hold your tongue, sir,’ said Ralph. ‘Upon my word! Fine beginnings, Mrs Nickleby--fine beginnings!’ Mrs Nickleby made no other reply than entreating Nicholas by a gesture to keep silent; and the uncle and nephew looked at each other for some seconds without speaking. The face of the old man was stern, hard-featured, and forbidding; that of the young one, open, handsome, and ingenuous. The old man’s eye was keen with |
