Miss Nickleby's reflections, as she wended her way homewards, were ofthat desponding nature which the occurrences of the morning had beensufficiently calculated to awaken. Her uncle's was not a manner likelyto dispel any doubts or apprehensions she might have formed, in theoutset, neither was the glimpse she had had of Madame Mantalini'sestablishment by any means encouraging. It was with many gloomyforebodings and misgivings, therefore, that she looked forward, with aheavy heart, to the opening of her new career.

If her mother's consolations could have restored her to a pleasanter andmore enviable state of mind, there were abundance of them to produce theeffect. By the time Kate reached home, the good lady had called to mindtwo authentic cases of milliners who had been possessed of considerableproperty, though whether they had acquired it all in business, or hadhad a capital to start with, or had been lucky and married to advantage,she could not exactly remember. However, as she very logically remarked,there must have been SOME young person in that way of business who hadmade a fortune without having anything to begin with, and that beingtaken for granted, why should not Kate do the same? Miss La Creevy, whowas a member of the little council, ventured to insinuate some doubtsrelative to the probability of Miss Nickleby's arriving at this happyconsummation in the compass of an ordinary lifetime; but the good ladyset that question entirely at rest, by informing them that she had apresentiment on the subject--a species of second-sight with which shehad been in the habit of clenching every argument with the deceasedMr Nickleby, and, in nine cases and three-quarters out of every ten,determining it the wrong way.

'I am afraid it is an unhealthy occupation,' said Miss La Creevy. 'Irecollect getting three young milliners to sit to me, when I first beganto paint, and I remember that they were all very pale and sickly.'

'Oh! that's not a general rule by any means,' observed Mrs Nickleby;'for I remember, as well as if it was only yesterday, employing one thatI was particularly recommended to, to make me a scarlet cloak at thetime when scarlet cloaks were fashionable, and she had a very redface--a very red face, indeed.'

'Perhaps she drank,' suggested Miss La Creevy.

'I don't know how that may have been,' returned Mrs Nickleby: 'but Iknow she had a very red face, so your argument goes for nothing.'

In this manner, and with like powerful reasoning, did the worthy matronmeet every little objection that presented itself to the new scheme ofthe morning. Happy Mrs Nickleby! A project had but to be new, and itcame home to her mind, brightly varnished and gilded as a glitteringtoy.

This question disposed of, Kate communicated her uncle's desire aboutthe empty house, to which Mrs Nickleby assented with equal readiness,characteristically remarking, that, on the fine evenings, it would be apleasant amusement for her to walk to the West end to fetch her daughterhome; and no less characteristically forgetting, that there were suchthings as wet nights and bad weather to be encountered in almost everyweek of the year.

'I shall be sorry--truly sorry to leave you, my kind friend,' said Kate,on whom the good feeling of the poor miniature painter had made a deepimpression.

'You shall not shake me off, for all that,' replied Miss La Creevy, withas much sprightliness as she could assume. 'I shall see you very often,and come and hear how you get on; and if, in all London, or all the wideworld besides, there is no other heart that takes an interest in yourwelfare, there will be one little lonely woman that prays for it nightand day.'

With this, the poor soul, who had a heart big enough for Gog, theguardian genius of London, and enough to spare for Magog to boot, aftermaking a great many extraordinary faces which would have secured her anample fortune, could she have transferred them to ivory or canvas, satdown in a corner, and had what she termed 'a real good cry.'

But no crying, or talking, or hoping, or fearing, could keep off thedreaded Saturday afternoon, or Newman Noggs either; who, punctual to histime, limped up to the door, and breathed a whiff of cordial gin throughthe keyhole, exactly as such of the church clocks in the neighbourhoodas agreed among themselves about the time, struck five. Newman waitedfor the last stroke, and then knocked.

'From Mr Ralph Nickleby,' said Newman, announcing his errand, when hegot upstairs, with all possible brevity.

'We shall be ready directly,' said Kate. 'We have not much to carry, butI fear we must have a coach.'

'I'll get one,' replied Newman.

'Indeed you shall not trouble yourself,' said Mrs Nickleby.

'I will,' said Newman.

'I can't suffer you to think of such a thing,' said Mrs Nickleby.

'You can't help it,' said Newman.

'Not help it!'

'No; I thought of it as I came along; but didn't get one, thinking youmightn't be ready. I think of a great many things. Nobody can preventthat.'

'Oh yes, I understand you, Mr Noggs,' said Mrs Nickleby. 'Our thoughtsare free, of course. Everybody's thoughts are their own, clearly.'

'They wouldn't be, if some people had their way,' muttered Newman.

'Well, no more they would, Mr Noggs, and that's very true,' rejoined MrsNickleby. 'Some people to be sure are such--how's your master?'

Newman darted a meaning glance at Kate, and replied with a strongemphasis on the last word of his answer, that Mr Ralph Nickleby waswell, and sent his LOVE.

'I am sure we are very much obliged to him,' observed Mrs Nickleby.

'Very,' said Newman. 'I'll tell him so.'

It was no very easy matter to mistake Newman Noggs, after having onceseen him, and as Kate, attracted by the singularity of his manner (inwhich on this occasion, however, there was something respectful and evendelicate, notwithstanding the abruptness of his speech), looked at himmore closely, she recollected having caught a passing glimpse of thatstrange figure before.

'Excuse my curiosity,' she said, 'but did I not see you in thecoachyard, on the morning my brother went away to Yorkshire?'

Newman cast a wistful glance on Mrs Nickleby and said 'No,' mostunblushingly.

'No!' exclaimed Kate, 'I should have said so anywhere.'

'You'd have said wrong,' rejoined Newman. 'It's the first time I've beenout for three weeks. I've had the gout.'

Newman was very, very far from having the appearance of a gouty subject,and so Kate could not help thinking; but the conference was cut short byMrs Nickleby's insisting on having the door shut, lest Mr Noggs shouldtake cold, and further persisting in sending the servant girl for acoach, for fear he should bring on another attack of his disorder. Toboth conditions, Newman was compelled to yield. Presently, the coachcame; and, after many sorrowful farewells, and a great deal of runningbackwards and forwards across the pavement on the part of Miss LaCreevy, in the course of which the yellow turban came into violentcontact with sundry foot-passengers, it (that is to say the coach,not the turban) went away again, with the two ladies and their luggageinside; and Newman, despite all Mrs Nickleby's assurances that it wouldbe his death--on the box beside the driver.

They went into the city, turning down by the river side; and, after along and very slow drive, the streets being crowded at that hour withvehicles of every kind, stopped in front of a large old dingy house inThames Street: the door and windows of which were so bespattered withmud, that it would have appeared to have been uninhabited for years.

The door of this deserted mansion Newman opened with a key which he tookout of his hat--in which, by-the-bye, in consequence of the dilapidatedstate of his pockets, he deposited everything, and would mostlikely have carried his money if he had had any--and the coach beingdischarged, he led the way into the interior of the mansion.

Old, and gloomy, and black, in truth it was, and sullen and dark werethe rooms, once so bustling with life and enterprise. There was awharf behind, opening on the Thames. An empty dog-kennel, some bones ofanimals, fragments of iron hoops, and staves of old casks, lay strewnabout, but no life was stirring there. It was a picture of cold, silentdecay.

'This house depresses and chills one,' said Kate, 'and seems as if someblight had fallen on it. If I were superstitious, I should be almostinclined to believe that some dreadful crime had been perpetrated withinthese old walls, and that the place had never prospered since. Howfrowning and how dark it looks!'

'Lord, my dear,' replied Mrs Nickleby, 'don't talk in that way, oryou'll frighten me to death.'

'It is only my foolish fancy, mama,' said Kate, forcing a smile.

'Well, then, my love, I wish you would keep your foolish fancy toyourself, and not wake up MY foolish fancy to keep it company,' retortedMrs Nickleby. 'Why didn't you think of all this before--you are socareless--we might have asked Miss La Creevy to keep us company orborrowed a dog, or a thousand things--but it always was the way, andwas just the same with your poor dear father. Unless I thought ofeverything--' This was Mrs Nickleby's usual commencement of a generallamentation, running through a dozen or so of complicated sentencesaddressed to nobody in particular, and into which she now launched untilher breath was exhausted.

Newman appeared not to hear these remarks, but preceded them to a coupleof rooms on the first floor, which some kind of attempt had been made torender habitable. In one, were a few chairs, a table, an old hearth-rug,and some faded baize; and a fire was ready laid in the grate. In theother stood an old tent bedstead, and a few scanty articles of chamberfurniture.

'Well, my dear,' said Mrs Nickleby, trying to be pleased, 'now isn'tthis thoughtful and considerate of your uncle? Why, we should not havehad anything but the bed we bought yesterday, to lie down upon, if ithadn't been for his thoughtfulness!'

'Very kind, indeed,' replied Kate, looking round.

Newman Noggs did not say that he had hunted up the old furniture theysaw, from attic and cellar; or that he had taken in the halfpennyworthof milk for tea that stood upon a shelf, or filled the rusty kettle onthe hob, or collected the woodchips from the wharf, or begged the coals.But the notion of Ralph Nickleby having directed it to be done, tickledhis fancy so much, that he could not refrain from cracking all his tenfingers in succession: at which performance Mrs Nickleby was ratherstartled at first, but supposing it to be in some remote mannerconnected with the gout, did not remark upon.

'We need detain you no longer, I think,' said Kate.

'Is there nothing I can do?' asked Newman.

'Nothing, thank you,' rejoined Miss Nickleby.

'Perhaps, my dear, Mr Noggs would like to drink our healths,' said MrsNickleby, fumbling in her reticule for some small coin.

'I think, mama,' said Kate hesitating, and remarking Newman's avertedface, 'you would hurt his feelings if you offered it.'

Newman Noggs, bowing to the young lady more like a gentleman thanthe miserable wretch he seemed, placed his hand upon his breast, and,pausing for a moment, with the air of a man who struggles to speak butis uncertain what to say, quitted the room.

As the jarring echoes of the heavy house-door, closing on its latch,reverberated dismally through the building, Kate felt half tempted tocall him back, and beg him to remain a little while; but she was ashamedto own her fears, and Newman Noggs was on his road homewards.