Nicholas Nickleby
the shovel, threw on half the stock: which Noggs very deliberately took
off again, without saying a word.
‘You have not turned saving, at this time of day, I hope?’ said Crowl.
Newman pointed to the empty glass, as though it were a sufficient
refutation of the charge, and briefly said that he was going downstairs
to supper.
‘To the Kenwigses?’ asked Crowl.
Newman nodded assent.
‘Think of that now!’ said Crowl. ‘If I didn’t--thinking that you
were certain not to go, because you said you wouldn’t--tell Kenwigs I
couldn’t come, and make up my mind to spend the evening with you!’
‘I was obliged to go,’ said Newman. ‘They would have me.’
‘Well; but what’s to become of me?’ urged the selfish man, who never
thought of anybody else. ‘It’s all your fault. I’ll tell you what--I’ll
sit by your fire till you come back again.’
Newman cast a despairing glance at his small store of fuel, but, not
having the courage to say no--a word which in all his life he never had
said at the right time, either to himself or anyone else--gave way to
the proposed arrangement. Mr. Crowl immediately went about making himself
as comfortable, with Newman Nogg’s means, as circumstances would admit
of his being made.
The lodgers to whom Crowl had made allusion under the designation of
‘the Kenwigses,’ were the wife and olive branches of one Mr. Kenwigs, a
turner in ivory, who was looked upon as a person of some consideration
on the premises, inasmuch as he occupied the whole of the first floor,
comprising a suite of two rooms. Mrs. Kenwigs, too, was quite a lady in
her manners, and of a very genteel family, having an uncle who collected
a water-rate; besides which distinction, the two eldest of her little
girls went twice a week to a dancing school in the neighbourhood, and
had flaxen hair, tied with blue ribbons, hanging in luxuriant pigtails
down their backs; and wore little white trousers with frills round the
ankles--for all of which reasons, and many more equally valid but too
numerous to mention, Mrs. Kenwigs was considered a very desirable person
to know, and was the constant theme of all the gossips in the street,
and even three or four doors round the corner at both ends.
It was the anniversary of that happy day on which the Church of England
as by law established, had bestowed Mrs. Kenwigs upon Mr. Kenwigs; and in
grateful commemoration of the same, Mrs. Kenwigs had invited a few select
friends to cards and a supper in the first floor, and had put on a new
gown to receive them in: which gown, being of a flaming colour and made
upon a juvenile principle, was so successful that Mr. Kenwigs said the
eight years of matrimony and the five children seemed all a dream, and
Mrs. Kenwigs younger and more blooming than on the very first Sunday he
had kept company with her.
Beautiful as Mrs. Kenwigs looked when she was dressed though, and so
stately that you would have supposed she had a cook and housemaid
at least, and nothing to do but order them about, she had a world
of trouble with the preparations; more, indeed, than she, being of a
delicate and genteel constitution, could have sustained, had not the
pride of housewifery upheld her. At last, however, all the things that
had to be got together were got together, and all the things that had to
be got out of the way were got out of the way, and everything was ready,
and the collector himself having promised to come, fortune smiled upon
the occasion.
The party was admirably selected. There were, first of all, Mr. Kenwigs
and Mrs. Kenwigs, and four olive Kenwigses who sat up to supper; firstly,
because it was but right that they should have a treat on such a day;
and secondly, because their going to bed, in presence of the company,
would have been inconvenient, not to say improper. Then, there was a
young lady who had made Mrs. Kenwigs’s dress, and who--it was the most
convenient thing in the world--living in the two-pair back, gave up her
bed to the baby, and got a little girl to watch it. Then, to match this
young lady, was a young man, who had known Mr. Kenwigs when he was a
bachelor, and was much esteemed by the ladies, as bearing the reputation
of a rake. To these were added a newly-married couple, who had visited
Mr. and Mrs. Kenwigs in their courtship; and a sister of Mrs. Kenwigs’s,
who was quite a beauty; besides whom, there was another young man,
supposed to entertain honourable designs upon the lady last mentioned;
and Mr. Noggs, who was a genteel person to ask, because he had been a
gentleman once. There were also an elderly lady from the back-parlour,
and one more young lady, who, next to the collector, perhaps was the
great lion of the party, being the daughter of a theatrical fireman, who
‘went on’ in the pantomime, and had the greatest turn for the stage that
was ever known, being able to sing and recite in a manner that brought
the tears into Mrs. Kenwigs’s eyes. There was only one drawback upon
the pleasure of seeing such friends, and that was, that the lady in
the back-parlour, who was very fat, and turned of sixty, came in a
low book-muslin dress and short kid gloves, which so exasperated Mrs
Kenwigs, that that lady assured her visitors, in private, that if it
hadn’t happened that the supper was cooking at the back-parlour grate
at that moment, she certainly would have requested its representative to
withdraw.
‘My dear,’ said Mr. Kenwigs, ‘wouldn’t it be better to begin a round
game?’
‘Kenwigs, my dear,’ returned his wife, ‘I am surprised at you. Would you
begin without my uncle?’
‘I forgot the collector,’ said Kenwigs; ‘oh no, that would never do.’
‘He’s so particular,’ said Mrs. Kenwigs, turning to the other married
lady, ‘that if we began without him, I should be out of his will for
ever.’
‘Dear!’ cried the married lady.
‘You’ve no idea what he is,’ replied Mrs. Kenwigs; ‘and yet as good a
creature as ever breathed.’
‘The kindest-hearted man as ever was,’ said Kenwigs.
‘It goes to his heart, I believe, to be forced to cut the water off,
when the people don’t pay,’ observed the bachelor friend, intending a
joke.
‘George,’ said Mr. Kenwigs, solemnly, ‘none of that, if you please.’
‘It was only my joke,’ said the friend, abashed.
‘George,’ rejoined Mr. Kenwigs, ‘a joke is a wery good thing--a wery
good thing--but when that joke is made at the expense of Mrs. Kenwigs’s
feelings, I set my face against it. A man in public life expects to
be sneered at--it is the fault of his elewated sitiwation, and not of
himself. Mrs. Kenwigs’s relation is a public man, and that he knows,
George, and that he can bear; but putting Mrs. Kenwigs out of the
question (if I COULD put Mrs. Kenwigs out of the question on such an
occasion as this), I have the honour to be connected with the collector
by marriage; and I cannot allow these remarks in my--’ Mr. Kenwigs was
going to say ‘house,’ but he rounded the sentence with ‘apartments’.
At the conclusion of these observations, which drew forth evidences
of acute feeling from Mrs. Kenwigs, and had the intended effect of
impressing the company with a deep sense of the collector’s dignity, a
ring was heard at the bell.
‘That’s him,’ whispered Mr. Kenwigs, greatly excited. ‘Morleena, my dear,
run down and let your uncle in, and kiss him directly you get the door
open. Hem! Let’s be talking.’
Adopting Mr. Kenwigs’s suggestion, the company spoke very loudly, to look
easy and unembarrassed; and almost as soon as they had begun to do so,
a short old gentleman in drabs and gaiters, with a face that might
have been carved out of LIGNUM VITAE, for anything that appeared to the
contrary, was led playfully in by Miss Morleena Kenwigs, regarding
whose uncommon Christian name it may be here remarked that it had been
invented and composed by Mrs. Kenwigs previous to her first lying-in, for
the special distinction of her eldest child, in case it should prove a
daughter.
‘Oh, uncle, I am SO glad to see you,’ said Mrs. Kenwigs, kissing the
collector affectionately on both cheeks. ‘So glad!’
‘Many happy returns of the day, my dear,’ replied the collector,
returning the compliment.
Now, this was an interesting thing. Here was a collector of water-rates,
without his book, without his pen and ink, without his double knock,
without his intimidation, kissing--actually kissing--an agreeable
female, and leaving taxes, summonses, notices that he had called, or
announcements that he would never call again, for two quarters’ due,
wholly out of the question. It was pleasant to see how the company
looked on, quite absorbed in the sight, and to behold the nods and
winks with which they expressed their gratification at finding so much
humanity in a tax-gatherer.
‘Where will you sit, uncle?’ said Mrs. Kenwigs, in the full glow of
family pride, which the appearance of her distinguished relation
occasioned.
‘Anywheres, my dear,’ said the collector, ‘I am not particular.’
Not particular! What a meek collector! If he had been an author, who
knew his place, he couldn’t have been more humble.
‘Mr. Lillyvick,’ said Kenwigs, addressing the collector, ‘some friends
here, sir, are very anxious for the honour of--thank you--Mr. and Mrs
Cutler, Mr. Lillyvick.’
‘Proud to know you, sir,’ said Mr. Cutler; ‘I’ve heerd of you very
often.’ These were not mere words of ceremony; for, Mr. Cutler, having
kept house in Mr. Lillyvick’s parish, had heard of him very often indeed.
His attention in calling had been quite extraordinary.
‘George, you know, I think, Mr. Lillyvick,’ said Kenwigs; ‘lady from
downstairs--Mr. Lillyvick. Mr. Snewkes--Mr. Lillyvick. Miss Green--Mr
Lillyvick. Mr. Lillyvick--Miss Petowker of the Theatre Royal, Drury Lane.
Very glad to make two public characters acquainted! Mrs. Kenwigs, my
dear, will you sort the counters?’
Mrs. Kenwigs, with the assistance of Newman Noggs, (who, as he performed
sundry little acts of kindness for the children, at all times and
seasons, was humoured in his request to be taken no notice of, and was
merely spoken about, in a whisper, as the decayed gentleman), did as he
was desired; and the greater part of the guests sat down to speculation,
while Newman himself, Mrs. Kenwigs, and Miss Petowker of the Theatre
Royal Drury Lane, looked after the supper-table.
While the ladies were thus busying themselves, Mr. Lillyvick was intent
upon the game in progress, and as all should be fish that comes to a
water-collector’s net, the dear old gentleman was by no means scrupulous
in appropriating to himself the property of his neighbours, which, on
the contrary, he abstracted whenever an opportunity presented itself,
smiling good-humouredly all the while, and making so many condescending
speeches to the owners, that they were delighted with his amiability,
and thought in their hearts that he deserved to be Chancellor of the
Exchequer at least.
After a great deal of trouble, and the administration of many slaps on
the head to the infant Kenwigses, whereof two of the most rebellious
were summarily banished, the cloth was laid with much elegance, and a
pair of boiled fowls, a large piece of pork, apple-pie, potatoes and
greens, were served; at sight of which, the worthy Mr. Lillyvick vented a
great many witticisms, and plucked up amazingly: to the immense delight
and satisfaction of the whole body of admirers.
Very well and very fast the supper went off; no more serious
difficulties occurring, than those which arose from the incessant demand
for clean knives and forks; which made poor Mrs. Kenwigs wish, more
than once, that private society adopted the principle of schools, and
required that every guest should bring his own knife, fork, and spoon;
which doubtless would be a great accommodation in many cases, and to no