'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 the twinklings of avarice
and cunning; the young man's bright with the light of intelligence and
spirit. His figure was somewhat slight, but manly and well formed; and,
apart from all the grace of youth and comeliness, there was an emanation
from the warm young heart in his look and bearing which kept the old man
down.

However striking such a contrast as this may be to lookers-on, none ever
feel it with half the keenness or acuteness of perfection with which it
strikes to the very soul of him whose inferiority it marks. It galled
Ralph to the heart's core, and he hated Nicholas from that hour.

The mutual inspection was at length brought to a close by Ralph
withdrawing his eyes, with a great show of disdain, and calling Nicholas
'a boy.' This word is much used as a term of reproach by elderly
gentlemen towards their juniors: probably with the view of deluding
society into the belief that if they could be young again, they wouldn't
on any account.

'Well, ma'am,' said Ralph, impatiently, 'the creditors have
administered, you tell me, and there's nothing left for you?'

'Nothing,' replied Mrs Nickleby.

'And you spent what little money you had, in coming all the way to
London, to see what I could do for you?' pursued Ralph.

'I hoped,' faltered Mrs Nickleby, 'that you might have an opportunity of
doing something for your brother's children. It was his dying wish that
I should appeal to you in their behalf.'

'I don't know how it is,' muttered Ralph, walking up and down the room,
'but whenever a man dies without any property of his own, he always
seems to think he has a right to dispose of other people's. What is your
daughter fit for, ma'am?'

'Kate has been well educated,' sobbed Mrs Nickleby. 'Tell your uncle, my
dear, how far you went in French and extras.'

The poor girl was abo