your uncle has provided, in
that most ready manner, for Nicholas, he will not leave us until he has
done at least the same for you." These were my very words, as near as I
remember. Kate, my dear, why don't you thank your--'

'Let me proceed, ma'am, pray,' said Ralph, interrupting his
sister-in-law in the full torrent of her discourse.

'Kate, my love, let your uncle proceed,' said Mrs Nickleby.

'I am most anxious that he should, mama,' rejoined Kate.

'Well, my dear, if you are anxious that he should, you had better allow
your uncle to say what he has to say, without interruption,' observed
Mrs Nickleby, with many small nods and frowns. 'Your uncle's time is
very valuable, my dear; and however desirous you may be--and naturally
desirous, as I am sure any affectionate relations who have seen so
little of your uncle as we have, must naturally be to protract the
pleasure of having him among us, still, we are bound not to be selfish,
but to take into consideration the important nature of his occupations
in the city.'

'I am very much obliged to you, ma'am,' said Ralph with a scarcely
perceptible sneer. 'An absence of business habits in this family leads,
apparently, to a great waste of words before business--when it does come
under consideration--is arrived at, at all.'

'I fear it is so indeed,' replied Mrs Nickleby with a sigh. 'Your poor
brother--'

'My poor brother, ma'am,' interposed Ralph tartly, 'had no idea what
business was--was unacquainted, I verily believe, with the very meaning
of the word.'

'I fear he was,' said Mrs Nickleby, with her handkerchief to her eyes.
'If it hadn't been for me, I don't know what would have become of him.'

What strange creatures we are! The slight bait so skilfully thrown out
by Ralph, on their first interview, was dangling on the hook yet. At
every small deprivation or discomfort which presented itself in the
course of the four-and-twenty hours to remind her of her straitened
and altered circumstances, peevish visions of her dower of one thousand
pounds had arisen before Mrs Nickleby's mind, until, at last, she had
come to persuade herself that of all her late husband's creditors she
was the worst used and the most to be pitied. And yet, she had loved him
dearly for many years, and had no greater share of selfishness than is
the usual lot of mortals. Such is the irritability of sudden poverty. A
decent annuity would have restored her thoughts to their old train, at
once