Chapter 52 - Nicholas despairs of rescuing Madeline Bray, but plucks up his Spiritsagain, and determ

Finding that Newman was determined to arrest his progress at any hazard,and apprehensive that some well-intentioned passenger, attracted by thecry of 'Stop thief,' might lay violent hands upon his person, andplace him in a disagreeable predicament from which he might have somedifficulty in extricating himself, Nicholas soon slackened his pace,and suffered Newman Noggs to come up with him: which he did, in sobreathless a condition, that it seemed impossible he could have held outfor a minute longer.

'I will go straight to Bray's,' said Nicholas. 'I will see this man.If there is a feeling of humanity lingering in his breast, a spark ofconsideration for his own child, motherless and friendless as she is, Iwill awaken it.'

'You will not,' replied Newman. 'You will not, indeed.'

'Then,' said Nicholas, pressing onward, 'I will act upon my firstimpulse, and go straight to Ralph Nickleby.'

'By the time you reach his house he will be in bed,' said Newman.

'I'll drag him from it,' cried Nicholas.

'Tut, tut,' said Noggs. 'Be yourself.'

'You are the best of friends to me, Newman,' rejoined Nicholas after apause, and taking his hand as he spoke. 'I have made head against manytrials; but the misery of another, and such misery, is involved in thisone, that I declare to you I am rendered desperate, and know not how toact.'

In truth, it did seem a hopeless case. It was impossible to make any useof such intelligence as Newman Noggs had gleaned, when he lay concealedin the closet. The mere circumstance of the compact between RalphNickleby and Gride would not invalidate the marriage, or render Brayaverse to it, who, if he did not actually know of the existence of somesuch understanding, doubtless suspected it. What had been hinted withreference to some fraud on Madeline, had been put, with sufficientobscurity by Arthur Gride, but coming from Newman Noggs, and obscuredstill further by the smoke of his pocket-pistol, it became whollyunintelligible, and involved in utter darkness.

'There seems no ray of hope,' said Nicholas.

'The greater necessity for coolness, for reason, for consideration,for thought,' said Newman, pausing at every alternate word, to lookanxiously in his friend's face. 'Where are the brothers?'

'Both absent on urgent business, as they will be for a week to come.'

'Is there no way of communicating with them? No way of getting one ofthem here by tomorrow night?'

'Impossible!' said Nicholas, 'the sea is between us and them. With thefairest winds that ever blew, to go and return would take three days andnights.'

'Their nephew,' said Newman, 'their old clerk.'

'What could either do, that I cannot?' rejoined Nicholas. 'Withreference to them, especially, I am enjoined to the strictest silence onthis subject. What right have I to betray the confidence reposed in me,when nothing but a miracle can prevent this sacrifice?'

'Think,' urged Newman. 'Is there no way.'

'There is none,' said Nicholas, in utter dejection. 'Not one. The fatherurges, the daughter consents. These demons have her in their toils;legal right, might, power, money, and every influence are on their side.How can I hope to save her?'

'Hope to the last!' said Newman, clapping him on the back. 'Always hope;that's a dear boy. Never leave off hoping; it don't answer. Do you mindme, Nick? It don't answer. Don't leave a stone unturned. It's alwayssomething, to know you've done the most you could. But, don't leave offhoping, or it's of no use doing anything. Hope, hope, to the last!'

Nicholas needed encouragement. The suddenness with which intelligence ofthe two usurers' plans had come upon him, the little time which remainedfor exertion, the probability, almost amounting to certainty itself,that a few hours would place Madeline Bray for ever beyond his reach,consign her to unspeakable misery, and perhaps to an untimely death; allthis quite stunned and overwhelmed him. Every hope connected with herthat he had suffered himself to form, or had entertained unconsciously,seemed to fall at his feet, withered and dead. Every charm with whichhis memory or imagination had surrounded her, presented itself beforehim, only to heighten his anguish and add new bitterness to his despair.Every feeling of sympathy for her forlorn condition, and of admirationfor her heroism and fortitude, aggravated the indignation which shookhim in every limb, and swelled his heart almost to bursting.

But, if Nicholas's own heart embarrassed him, Newman's came to hisrelief. There was so much earnestness in his remonstrance, and suchsincerity and fervour in his manner, odd and ludicrous as it always was,that it imparted to Nicholas new firmness, and enabled him to say, afterhe had walked on for some little way in silence:

'You read me a good lesson, Newman, and I will profit by it. One step,at least, I may take--am bound to take indeed--and to that I will applymyself tomorrow.'

'What is that?' asked Noggs wistfully. 'Not to threaten Ralph? Not tosee the father?'

'To see the daughter, Newman,' replied Nicholas. 'To do what, after all,is the utmost that the brothers could do, if they were here, as Heavensend they were! To reason with her upon this hideous union, to point outto her all the horrors to which she is hastening; rashly, it may be, andwithout due reflection. To entreat her, at least, to pause. She can havehad no counsellor for her good. Perhaps even I may move her so far yet,though it is the eleventh hour, and she upon the very brink of ruin.'

'Bravely spoken!' said Newman. 'Well done, well done! Yes. Very good.'

'And I do declare,' cried Nicholas, with honest enthusiasm, 'that inthis effort I am influenced by no selfish or personal considerations,but by pity for her, and detestation and abhorrence of this scheme; andthat I would do the same, were there twenty rivals in the field, and Ithe last and least favoured of them all.'

'You would, I believe,' said Newman. 'But where are you hurrying now?'

'Homewards,' answered Nicholas. 'Do you come with me, or I shall saygood-night?'

'I'll come a little way, if you will but walk: not run,' said Noggs.

'I cannot walk tonight, Newman,' returned Nicholas, hurriedly. 'I mustmove rapidly, or I could not draw my breath. I'll tell you what I'vesaid and done tomorrow.'

Without waiting for a reply, he darted off at a rapid pace, and,plunging into the crowds which thronged the street, was quickly lost toview.

'He's a violent youth at times,' said Newman, looking after him; 'andyet like him for it. There's cause enough now, or the deuce is in it.Hope! I SAID hope, I think! Ralph Nickleby and Gride with their headstogether! And hope for the opposite party! Ho! ho!'

It was with a very melancholy laugh that Newman Noggs concluded thissoliloquy; and it was with a very melancholy shake of the head, and avery rueful countenance, that he turned about, and went plodding on hisway.

This, under ordinary circumstances, would have been to some small tavernor dram-shop; that being his way, in more senses than one. But, Newmanwas too much interested, and too anxious, to betake himself even tothis resource, and so, with many desponding and dismal reflections, wentstraight home.

It had come to pass, that afternoon, that Miss Morleena Kenwigs hadreceived an invitation to repair next day, per steamer from WestminsterBridge, unto the Eel-pie Island at Twickenham: there to make merry upona cold collation, bottled beer, shrub, and shrimps, and to dance in theopen air to the music of a locomotive band, conveyed thither for thepurpose: the steamer being specially engaged by a dancing-master ofextensive connection for the accommodation of his numerous pupils,and the pupils displaying their appreciation of the dancing-master'sservices, by purchasing themselves, and inducing their friends to do thelike, divers light-blue tickets, entitling them to join the expedition.Of these light-blue tickets, one had been presented by an ambitiousneighbour to Miss Morleena Kenwigs, with an invitation to join herdaughters; and Mrs Kenwigs, rightly deeming that the honour of thefamily was involved in Miss Morleena's making the most splendidappearance possible on so short a notice, and testifying to thedancing-master that there were other dancing-masters besides him, and toall fathers and mothers present that other people's children could learnto be genteel besides theirs, had fainted away twice under the magnitudeof her preparations, but, upheld by a determination to sustain thefamily name or perish in the attempt, was still hard at work when NewmanNoggs came home.

Now, between the italian-ironing of frills, the flouncing of trousers,the trimming of frocks, the faintings and the comings-to again,incidental to the occasion, Mrs Kenwigs had been so entirely occupied,that she had not observed, until within half an hour before, that theflaxen tails of Miss Morleena's hair were, in a manner, run to seed; andthat, unless she were put under the hands of a skilful hairdresser, shenever could achieve that signal triumph over the daughters of all otherpeople, anything less than which would be tantamount to defeat. Thisdiscovery drove Mrs Kenwigs to despair; for the hairdresser lived threestreets and eight dangerous crossings off; Morleena could not be trustedto go there alone, even if such a proceeding were strictly proper:of which Mrs Kenwigs had her doubts; Mr Kenwigs had not returned frombusiness; and there was nobody to take her. So, Mrs Kenwigs firstslapped Miss Kenwigs for being the cause of her vexation, and then shedtears.

'You ungrateful child!' said Mrs Kenwigs, 'after I have gone throughwhat I have, this night, for your good.'

'I can't help it, ma,' replied Morleena, also in tears; 'my hair WILLgrow.'

'Don't talk to me, you naughty thing!' said Mrs Kenwigs, 'don't! Even ifI was to trust you by yourself and you were to escape being run over,I know you'd run in to Laura Chopkins,' who was the daughter of theambitious neighbour, 'and tell her what you're going to wear tomorrow,I know you would. You've no proper pride in yourself, and are not to betrusted out of sight for an instant.'

Deploring the evil-mindedness of her eldest daughter in these terms, MrsKenwigs distilled fresh drops of vexation from her eyes, and declaredthat she did believe there never was anybody so tried as she was.Thereupon, Morleena Kenwigs wept afresh, and they bemoaned themselvestogether.

Matters were at this point, as Newman Noggs was heard to limp past thedoor on his way upstairs; when Mrs Kenwigs, gaining new hope from thesound of his footsteps, hastily removed from her countenance as manytraces of her late emotion as were effaceable on so short a notice: andpresenting herself before him, and representing their dilemma, entreatedthat he would escort Morleena to the hairdresser's shop.

'I wouldn't ask you, Mr Noggs,' said Mrs Kenwigs, 'if I didn't know whata good, kind-hearted creature you are; no, not for worlds. I am a weakconstitution, Mr Noggs, but my spirit would no more let me ask a favourwhere I thought there was a chance of its being refused, than it wouldlet me submit to see my children trampled down and trod upon, by envyand lowness!'

Newman was too good-natured not to have consented, even without thisavowal of confidence on the part of Mrs Kenwigs. Accordingly, a very fewminutes had elapsed, when he and Miss Morleena were on their way to thehairdresser's.

It was not exactly a hairdresser's; that is to say, people of a coarseand vulgar turn of mind might have called it a barber's; for they notonly cut and curled ladies elegantly, and children carefully, but shavedgentlemen easily. Still, it was a highly genteel establishment--quitefirst-rate in fact--and there were displayed in the window, besidesother elegancies, waxen busts of a light lady and a dark gentleman whichwere the admiration of the whole neighbourhood. Indeed, some ladieshad gone so far as to assert, that the dark gentleman was actuallya portrait of the spirted young proprietor; and the great similaritybetween their head-dresses--both wore very glossy hair, with a narrowwalk straight down the middle, and a profusion of flat circular curlson both sides--encouraged the idea. The better informed among the sex,however, made light of this assertion, for however willing they were(and they were very willing) to do full justice to the handsome faceand figure of the proprietor, they held the countenance of the darkgentleman in the window to be an exquisite and abstract idea ofmasculine beauty, realised sometimes, perhaps, among angels and militarymen, but very rarely embodied to gladden the eyes of mortals.

It was to this establishment that Newman Noggs led Miss Kenwigs insafety. The proprietor, knowing that Miss Kenwigs had three sisters,each with two flaxen tails, and all good for sixpence apiece, once amonth at least, promptly deserted an old gentleman whom he had justlathered for shaving, and handing him over to the journeyman, (who wasnot very popular among the ladies, by reason of his obesity and middleage,) waited on the young lady himself.

Just as this change had been effected, there presented himself forshaving, a big, burly, good-humoured coal-heaver with a pipe in hismouth, who, drawing his hand across his chin, requested to know when ashaver would be disengaged.

The journeyman, to whom this question was put, looked doubtfully atthe young proprietor, and the young proprietor looked scornfully at thecoal-heaver: observing at the same time:

'You won't get shaved here, my man.'

'Why not?' said the coal-heaver.

'We don't shave gentlemen in your line,' remarked the young proprietor.

'Why, I see you a shaving of a baker, when I was a looking through thewinder, last week,' said the coal-heaver.

'It's necessary to draw the line somewheres, my fine feller,' repliedthe principal. 'We draw the line there. We can't go beyond bakers. If wewas to get any lower than bakers, our customers would desert us, andwe might shut up shop. You must try some other establishment, sir. Wecouldn't do it here.'

The applicant stared; grinned at Newman Noggs, who appeared highlyentertained; looked slightly round the shop, as if in depreciation ofthe pomatum pots and other articles of stock; took his pipe out of hismouth and gave a very loud whistle; and then put it in again, and walkedout.

The old gentleman who had just been lathered, and who was sitting in amelancholy manner with his face turned towards the wall, appeared quiteunconscious of this incident, and to be insensible to everything aroundhim in the depth of a reverie--a very mournful one, to judge from thesighs he occasionally vented--in which he was absorbed. Affected by thisexample, the proprietor began to clip Miss Kenwigs, the journeyman toscrape the old gentleman, and Newman Noggs to read last Sunday's paper,all three in silence: when Miss Kenwigs uttered a shrill little scream,and Newman, raising his eyes, saw that it had been elicited by thecircumstance of the old gentleman turning his head, and disclosing thefeatures of Mr Lillyvick the collector.

The features of Mr Lillyvick they were, but strangely altered. If everan old gentleman had made a point of appearing in public, shaved closeand clean, that old gentleman was Mr Lillyvick. If ever a collector hadborne himself like a collector, and assumed, before all men, a solemnand portentous dignity as if he had the world on his books and it wasall two quarters in arrear, that collector was Mr Lillyvick. Andnow, there he sat, with the remains of a beard at least a week oldencumbering his chin; a soiled and crumpled shirt-frill crouching, asit were, upon his breast, instead of standing boldly out; a demeanour soabashed and drooping, so despondent, and expressive of such humiliation,grief, and shame; that if the souls of forty unsubstantial housekeepers,all of whom had had their water cut off for non-payment of the rate,could have been concentrated in one body, that one body could hardlyhave expressed such mortification and defeat as were now expressed inthe person of Mr Lillyvick the collector.

Newman Noggs uttered his name, and Mr Lillyvick groaned: then coughed tohide it. But the groan was a full-sized groan, and the cough was but awheeze.

'Is anything the matter?' said Newman Noggs.

'Matter, sir!' cried Mr Lillyvick. 'The plug of life is dry, sir, andbut the mud is left.'

This speech--the style of which Newman attributed to Mr Lillyvick'srecent association with theatrical characters--not being quiteexplanatory, Newman looked as if he were about to ask another question,when Mr Lillyvick prevented him by shaking his hand mournfully, and thenwaving his own.

'Let me be shaved!' said Mr Lillyvick. 'It shall be done beforeMorleena; it IS Morleena, isn't it?'

'Yes,' said Newman.

'Kenwigses have got a boy, haven't they?' inquired the collector.

Again Newman said 'Yes.'

'Is it a nice boy?' demanded the collector.

'It ain't a very nasty one,' returned Newman, rather embarrassed by thequestion.

'Susan Kenwigs used to say,' observed the collector, 'that if ever shehad another boy, she hoped it might be like me. Is this one like me, MrNoggs?'

This was a puzzling inquiry; but Newman evaded it, by replying to MrLillyvick, that he thought the baby might possibly come like him intime.

'I should be glad to have somebody like me, somehow,' said Mr Lillyvick,'before I die.'

'You don't mean to do that, yet awhile?' said Newman.

Unto which Mr Lillyvick replied in a solemn voice, 'Let me be shaved!'and again consigning himself to the hands of the journeyman, said nomore.

This was remarkable behaviour. So remarkable did it seem to MissMorleena, that that young lady, at the imminent hazard of having her earsliced off, had not been able to forbear looking round, some score oftimes, during the foregoing colloquy. Of her, however, Mr Lillyvick tookno notice: rather striving (so, at least, it seemed to Newman Noggs) toevade her observation, and to shrink into himself whenever he attractedher regards. Newman wondered very much what could have occasioned thisaltered behaviour on the part of the collector; but, philosophicallyreflecting that he would most likely know, sooner or later, and thathe could perfectly afford to wait, he was very little disturbed by thesingularity of the old gentleman's deportment.

The cutting and curling being at last concluded, the old gentleman, whohad been some time waiting, rose to go, and, walking out with Newmanand his charge, took Newman's arm, and proceeded for some time withoutmaking any observation. Newman, who in power of taciturnity was excelledby few people, made no attempt to break silence; and so they wenton, until they had very nearly reached Miss Morleena's home, when MrLillyvick said:

'Were the Kenwigses very much overpowered, Mr Noggs, by that news?'

'What news?' returned Newman.

'That about--my--being--'

'Married?' suggested Newman.

'Ah!' replied Mr Lillyvick, with another groan; this time not evendisguised by a wheeze.

'It made ma cry when she knew it,' interposed Miss Morleena, 'but wekept it from her for a long time; and pa was very low in his spirits,but he is better now; and I was very ill, but I am better too.'

'Would you give your great-uncle Lillyvick a kiss if he was to ask you,Morleena?' said the collector, with some hesitation.

'Yes; uncle Lillyvick, I would,' returned Miss Morleena, with the energyof both her parents combined; 'but not aunt Lillyvick. She's not an auntof mine, and I'll never call her one.'

Immediately upon the utterance of these words, Mr Lillyvick caught MissMorleena up in his arms, and kissed her; and, being by this time at thedoor of the house where Mr Kenwigs lodged (which, as has been beforementioned, usually stood wide open), he walked straight up into MrKenwigs's sitting-room, and put Miss Morleena down in the midst. Mr andMrs Kenwigs were at supper. At sight of their perjured relative, MrsKenwigs turned faint and pale, and Mr Kenwigs rose majestically.

'Kenwigs,' said the collector, 'shake hands.'

'Sir,' said Mr Kenwigs, 'the time has been, when I was proud to shakehands with such a man as that man as now surweys me. The time has been,sir,' said Mr Kenwigs, 'when a wisit from that man has excited in me andmy family's boozums sensations both nateral and awakening. But, now, Ilook upon that man with emotions totally surpassing everythink, and Iask myself where is his Honour, where is his straight-for'ardness, andwhere is his human natur?'

'Susan Kenwigs,' said Mr Lillyvick, turning humbly to his niece, 'don'tyou say anything to me?'

'She is not equal to it, sir,' said Mr Kenwigs, striking the tableemphatically. 'What with the nursing of a healthy babby, and thereflections upon your cruel conduct, four pints of malt liquor a day ishardly able to sustain her.'

'I am glad,' said the poor collector meekly, 'that the baby is a healthyone. I am very glad of that.'

This was touching the Kenwigses on their tenderest point. Mrs Kenwigsinstantly burst into tears, and Mr Kenwigs evinced great emotion.

'My pleasantest feeling, all the time that child was expected,' said MrKenwigs, mournfully, 'was a thinking, "If it's a boy, as I hope it maybe; for I have heard its uncle Lillyvick say again and again he wouldprefer our having a boy next, if it's a boy, what will his uncleLillyvick say? What will he like him to be called? Will he be Peter, orAlexander, or Pompey, or Diorgeenes, or what will he be?" And now whenI look at him; a precious, unconscious, helpless infant, with no usein his little arms but to tear his little cap, and no use in his littlelegs but to kick his little self--when I see him a lying on his mother'slap, cooing and cooing, and, in his innocent state, almost a chokinghisself with his little fist--when I see him such a infant as he is, andthink that that uncle Lillyvick, as was once a-going to be so fond ofhim, has withdrawed himself away, such a feeling of wengeance comes overme as no language can depicter, and I feel as if even that holy babe wasa telling me to hate him.'

This affecting picture moved Mrs Kenwigs deeply. After several imperfectwords, which vainly attempted to struggle to the surface, but weredrowned and washed away by the strong tide of her tears, she spake.

'Uncle,' said Mrs Kenwigs, 'to think that you should have turned yourback upon me and my dear children, and upon Kenwigs which is the authorof their being--you who was once so kind and affectionate, and who, ifanybody had told us such a thing of, we should have withered with scornlike lightning--you that little Lillyvick, our first and earliest boy,was named after at the very altar! Oh gracious!'

'Was it money that we cared for?' said Mr Kenwigs. 'Was it property thatwe ever thought of?'

'No,' cried Mrs Kenwigs, 'I scorn it.'

'So do I,' said Mr Kenwigs, 'and always did.'

'My feelings have been lancerated,' said Mrs Kenwigs, 'my heart has beentorn asunder with anguish, I have been thrown back in my confinement,my unoffending infant has been rendered uncomfortable and fractious,Morleena has pined herself away to nothing; all this I forget andforgive, and with you, uncle, I never can quarrel. But never ask me toreceive HER, never do it, uncle. For I will not, I will not, I won't, Iwon't, I won't!'

'Susan, my dear,' said Mr Kenwigs, 'consider your child.'

'Yes,' shrieked Mrs Kenwigs, 'I will consider my child! I will considermy child! My own child, that no uncles can deprive me of; my own hated,despised, deserted, cut-off little child.' And, here, the emotions ofMrs Kenwigs became so violent, that Mr Kenwigs was fain to administerhartshorn internally, and vinegar externally, and to destroy a staylace,four petticoat strings, and several small buttons.

Newman had been a silent spectator of this scene; for Mr Lillyvick hadsigned to him not to withdraw, and Mr Kenwigs had further solicitedhis presence by a nod of invitation. When Mrs Kenwigs had been, in somedegree, restored, and Newman, as a person possessed of some influencewith her, had remonstrated and begged her to compose herself, MrLillyvick said in a faltering voice:

'I never shall ask anybody here to receive my--I needn't mention theword; you know what I mean. Kenwigs and Susan, yesterday was a week sheeloped with a half-pay captain!'

Mr and Mrs Kenwigs started together.

'Eloped with a half-pay captain,' repeated Mr Lillyvick, 'basely andfalsely eloped with a half-pay captain. With a bottle-nosed captain thatany man might have considered himself safe from. It was in this room,'said Mr Lillyvick, looking sternly round, 'that I first see HenriettaPetowker. It is in this room that I turn her off, for ever.'

This declaration completely changed the whole posture of affairs.Mrs Kenwigs threw herself upon the old gentleman's neck, bitterlyreproaching herself for her late harshness, and exclaiming, if she hadsuffered, what must his sufferings have been! Mr Kenwigs graspedhis hand, and vowed eternal friendship and remorse. Mrs Kenwigs washorror-stricken to think that she should ever have nourished in herbosom such a snake, adder, viper, serpent, and base crocodile asHenrietta Petowker. Mr Kenwigs argued that she must have been bad indeednot to have improved by so long a contemplation of Mrs Kenwigs's virtue.Mrs Kenwigs remembered that Mr Kenwigs had often said that he wasnot quite satisfied of the propriety of Miss Petowker's conduct, andwondered how it was that she could have been blinded by such a wretch.Mr Kenwigs remembered that he had had his suspicions, but did not wonderwhy Mrs Kenwigs had not had hers, as she was all chastity, purity, andtruth, and Henrietta all baseness, falsehood, and deceit. And Mr andMrs Kenwigs both said, with strong feelings and tears of sympathy, thateverything happened for the best; and conjured the good collector not togive way to unavailing grief, but to seek consolation in the societyof those affectionate relations whose arms and hearts were ever open tohim.

'Out of affection and regard for you, Susan and Kenwigs,' said MrLillyvick, 'and not out of revenge and spite against her, for she isbelow it, I shall, tomorrow morning, settle upon your children, and makepayable to the survivors of them when they come of age of marry, thatmoney that I once meant to leave 'em in my will. The deed shall beexecuted tomorrow, and Mr Noggs shall be one of the witnesses. He hearsme promise this, and he shall see it done.'

Overpowered by this noble and generous offer, Mr Kenwigs, Mrs Kenwigs,and Miss Morleena Kenwigs, all began to sob together; and the noise oftheir sobbing, communicating itself to the next room, where the childrenlay a-bed, and causing them to cry too, Mr Kenwigs rushed wildly in,and bringing them out in his arms, by two and two, tumbled them down intheir nightcaps and gowns at the feet of Mr Lillyvick, and called uponthem to thank and bless him.

'And now,' said Mr Lillyvick, when a heart-rending scene had ensued andthe children were cleared away again, 'give me some supper. This tookplace twenty mile from town. I came up this morning, and have beinglingering about all day, without being able to make up my mind to comeand see you. I humoured her in everything, she had her own way, shedid just as she pleased, and now she has done this. There was twelveteaspoons and twenty-four pound in sovereigns--I missed them first--it'sa trial--I feel I shall never be able to knock a double knock again,when I go my rounds--don't say anything more about it, please--thespoons were worth--never mind--never mind!'

With such muttered outpourings as these, the old gentleman shed a fewtears; but, they got him into the elbow-chair, and prevailed upon him,without much pressing, to make a hearty supper, and by the time he hadfinished his first pipe, and disposed of half-a-dozen glasses out of acrown bowl of punch, ordered by Mr Kenwigs, in celebration of his returnto the bosom of his family, he seemed, though still very humble, quiteresigned to his fate, and rather relieved than otherwise by the flightof his wife.

'When I see that man,' said Mr Kenwigs, with one hand round MrsKenwigs's waist: his other hand supporting his pipe (which made him winkand cough very much, for he was no smoker): and his eyes on Morleena,who sat upon her uncle's knee, 'when I see that man as mingling, onceagain, in the spear which he adorns, and see his affections dewelopingthemselves in legitimate sitiwations, I feel that his nature is aselewated and expanded, as his standing afore society as a publiccharacter is unimpeached, and the woices of my infant children purvidedfor in life, seem to whisper to me softly, "This is an ewent at whichEvins itself looks down!"'