d, 'there is a horse for sale
at Scrubbs's, which it would be a sin and a crime to lose--going, my
senses' joy, for nothing.'

'For nothing,' cried Madame, 'I am glad of that.'

'For actually nothing,' replied Mantalini. 'A hundred guineas down will
buy him; mane, and crest, and legs, and tail, all of the demdest beauty.
I will ride him in the park before the very chariots of the rejected
countesses. The demd old dowager will faint with grief and rage; the
other two will say "He is married, he has made away with himself, it
is a demd thing, it is all up!" They will hate each other demnebly, and
wish you dead and buried. Ha! ha! Demmit.'

Madame Mantalini's prudence, if she had any, was not proof against these
triumphal pictures; after a little jingling of keys, she observed that
she would see what her desk contained, and rising for that purpose,
opened the folding-door, and walked into the room where Kate was seated.

'Dear me, child!' exclaimed Madame Mantalini, recoiling in surprise.
'How came you here?'

'Child!' cried Mantalini, hurrying in. 'How came--eh!--oh--demmit, how
d'ye do?'

'I have been waiting, here some time, ma'am,' said Kate, addressing
Madame Mantalini. 'The servant must have forgotten to let you know that
I was here, I think.'

'You really must see to that man,' said Madame, turning to her husband.
'He forgets everything.'

'I will twist his demd nose off his countenance for leaving such a very
pretty creature all alone by herself,' said her husband.

'Mantalini,' cried Madame, 'you forget yourself.'

'I don't forget you, my soul, and never shall, and never can,' said
Mantalini, kissing his wife's hand, and grimacing aside, to Miss
Nickleby, who turned away.

Appeased by this compliment, the lady of the business took some papers
from her desk which she handed over to Mr Mantalini, who received them
with great delight. She then requested Kate to follow her, and after
several feints on the part of Mr Mantalini to attract the young lady's
attention, they went away: leaving that gentleman extended at full
length on the sofa, with his heels in the air and a newspaper in his
hand.

Madame Mantalini led the way down a flight of stairs, and through a
passage, to a large room at the back of the premises where were a number
of young women employed in sewing, cutting out, making up, altering, and
various other processes known only to those who are cunning in the arts
of millinery and dressmaking