Nicholas Nickleby
accompanied them, but the worthy lady, pluming herself upon her
discretion, took particular care not so much as to look at her daughter
during the whole evening, and to seem wholly absorbed in the jokes and
conversation of Mr. Pluck, who, having been appointed sentry over Mrs
Nickleby for that especial purpose, neglected, on his side, no possible
opportunity of engrossing her attention.
Lord Frederick Verisopht remained in the next box to be talked to by Mrs
Wititterly, and Mr. Pyke was in attendance to throw in a word or two when
necessary. As to Mr. Wititterly, he was sufficiently busy in the body of
the house, informing such of his friends and acquaintance as happened
to be there, that those two gentlemen upstairs, whom they had seen
in conversation with Mrs. W., were the distinguished Lord Frederick
Verisopht and his most intimate friend, the gay Sir Mulberry Hawk--a
communication which inflamed several respectable house-keepers with the
utmost jealousy and rage, and reduced sixteen unmarried daughters to the
very brink of despair.
The evening came to an end at last, but Kate had yet to be handed
downstairs by the detested Sir Mulberry; and so skilfully were the
manoeuvres of Messrs Pyke and Pluck conducted, that she and the baronet
were the last of the party, and were even--without an appearance of
effort or design--left at some little distance behind.
‘Don’t hurry, don’t hurry,’ said Sir Mulberry, as Kate hastened on, and
attempted to release her arm.
She made no reply, but still pressed forward.
‘Nay, then--’ coolly observed Sir Mulberry, stopping her outright.
‘You had best not seek to detain me, sir!’ said Kate, angrily.
‘And why not?’ retorted Sir Mulberry. ‘My dear creature, now why do you
keep up this show of displeasure?’
‘SHOW!’ repeated Kate, indignantly. ‘How dare you presume to speak to
me, sir--to address me--to come into my presence?’
‘You look prettier in a passion, Miss Nickleby,’ said Sir Mulberry Hawk,
stooping down, the better to see her face.
‘I hold you in the bitterest detestation and contempt, sir,’ said Kate.
‘If you find any attraction in looks of disgust and aversion, you--let
me rejoin my friends, sir, instantly. Whatever considerations may have
withheld me thus far, I will disregard them all, and take a course that
even YOU might feel, if you do not immediately suffer me to proceed.’
Sir Mulberry smiled, and still looking in her face and retaining her
arm, walked towards the door.
‘If no regard for my sex or helpless situation will induce you to desist
from this coarse and unmanly persecution,’ said Kate, scarcely knowing,
in the tumult of her passions, what she said,--‘I have a brother who
will resent it dearly, one day.’
‘Upon my soul!’ exclaimed Sir Mulberry, as though quietly communing with
himself; passing his arm round her waist as he spoke, ‘she looks more
beautiful, and I like her better in this mood, than when her eyes are
cast down, and she is in perfect repose!’
How Kate reached the lobby where her friends were waiting she never
knew, but she hurried across it without at all regarding them, and
disengaged herself suddenly from her companion, sprang into the coach,
and throwing herself into its darkest corner burst into tears.
Messrs Pyke and Pluck, knowing their cue, at once threw the party into
great commotion by shouting for the carriages, and getting up a violent
quarrel with sundry inoffensive bystanders; in the midst of which tumult
they put the affrighted Mrs. Nickleby in her chariot, and having got her
safely off, turned their thoughts to Mrs. Wititterly, whose attention
also they had now effectually distracted from the young lady, by
throwing her into a state of the utmost bewilderment and consternation.
At length, the conveyance in which she had come rolled off too with its
load, and the four worthies, being left alone under the portico, enjoyed
a hearty laugh together.
‘There,’ said Sir Mulberry, turning to his noble friend. ‘Didn’t I tell
you last night that if we could find where they were going by bribing a
servant through my fellow, and then established ourselves close by with
the mother, these people’s honour would be our own? Why here it is, done
in four-and-twenty hours.’
‘Ye--es,’ replied the dupe. ‘But I have been tied to the old woman all
ni-ight.’
‘Hear him,’ said Sir Mulberry, turning to his two friends. ‘Hear this
discontented grumbler. Isn’t it enough to make a man swear never to help
him in his plots and schemes again? Isn’t it an infernal shame?’
Pyke asked Pluck whether it was not an infernal shame, and Pluck asked
Pyke; but neither answered.
‘Isn’t it the truth?’ demanded Verisopht. ‘Wasn’t it so?’
‘Wasn’t it so!’ repeated Sir Mulberry. ‘How would you have had it? How
could we have got a general invitation at first sight--come when you
like, go when you like, stop as long as you like, do what you like--if
you, the lord, had not made yourself agreeable to the foolish mistress
of the house? Do I care for this girl, except as your friend? Haven’t I
been sounding your praises in her ears, and bearing her pretty sulks and
peevishness all night for you? What sort of stuff do you think I’m made
of? Would I do this for every man? Don’t I deserve even gratitude in
return?’
‘You’re a deyvlish good fellow,’ said the poor young lord, taking his
friend’s arm. ‘Upon my life you’re a deyvlish good fellow, Hawk.’
‘And I have done right, have I?’ demanded Sir Mulberry.
‘Quite ri-ght.’
‘And like a poor, silly, good-natured, friendly dog as I am, eh?’
‘Ye--es, ye--es; like a friend,’ replied the other.
‘Well then,’ replied Sir Mulberry, ‘I’m satisfied. And now let’s go and
have our revenge on the German baron and the Frenchman, who cleaned you
out so handsomely last night.’
With these words the friendly creature took his companion’s arm and led
him away, turning half round as he did so, and bestowing a wink and
a contemptuous smile on Messrs Pyke and Pluck, who, cramming their
handkerchiefs into their mouths to denote their silent enjoyment of
the whole proceedings, followed their patron and his victim at a little
distance.
CHAPTER 28
Miss Nickleby, rendered desperate by the Persecution of Sir Mulberry
Hawk, and the Complicated Difficulties and Distresses which surround
her, appeals, as a last resource, to her Uncle for Protection
The ensuing morning brought reflection with it, as morning usually
does; but widely different was the train of thought it awakened in the
different persons who had been so unexpectedly brought together on the
preceding evening, by the active agency of Messrs Pyke and Pluck.
The reflections of Sir Mulberry Hawk--if such a term can be applied to
the thoughts of the systematic and calculating man of dissipation, whose
joys, regrets, pains, and pleasures, are all of self, and who would seem
to retain nothing of the intellectual faculty but the power to debase
himself, and to degrade the very nature whose outward semblance he
wears--the reflections of Sir Mulberry Hawk turned upon Kate Nickleby,
and were, in brief, that she was undoubtedly handsome; that her coyness
MUST be easily conquerable by a man of his address and experience, and
that the pursuit was one which could not fail to redound to his credit,
and greatly to enhance his reputation with the world. And lest this last
consideration--no mean or secondary one with Sir Mulberry--should sound
strangely in the ears of some, let it be remembered that most men live
in a world of their own, and that in that limited circle alone are they
ambitious for distinction and applause. Sir Mulberry’s world was peopled
with profligates, and he acted accordingly.
Thus, cases of injustice, and oppression, and tyranny, and the most
extravagant bigotry, are in constant occurrence among us every day. It
is the custom to trumpet forth much wonder and astonishment at the chief
actors therein setting at defiance so completely the opinion of the
world; but there is no greater fallacy; it is precisely because they
do consult the opinion of their own little world that such things take
place at all, and strike the great world dumb with amazement.
The reflections of Mrs. Nickleby were of the proudest and most complacent
kind; and under the influence of her very agreeable delusion she
straightway sat down and indited a long letter to Kate, in which she
expressed her entire approval of the admirable choice she had made, and
extolled Sir Mulberry to the skies; asserting, for the more complete
satisfaction of her daughter’s feelings, that he was precisely the
individual whom she (Mrs. Nickleby) would have chosen for her son-in-law,
if she had had the picking and choosing from all mankind. The good lady
then, with the preliminary observation that she might be fairly supposed
not to have lived in the world so long without knowing its ways,
communicated a great many subtle precepts applicable to the state of
courtship, and confirmed in their wisdom by her own personal experience.
Above all things she commended a strict maidenly reserve, as being
not only a very laudable thing in itself, but as tending materially
to strengthen and increase a lover’s ardour. ‘And I never,’ added Mrs
Nickleby, ‘was more delighted in my life than to observe last night,
my dear, that your good sense had already told you this.’ With which
sentiment, and various hints of the pleasure she derived from the
knowledge that her daughter inherited so large an instalment of her own
excellent sense and discretion (to nearly the full measure of which she
might hope, with care, to succeed in time), Mrs. Nickleby concluded a
very long and rather illegible letter.
Poor Kate was well-nigh distracted on the receipt of four
closely-written and closely-crossed sides of congratulation on the very
subject which had prevented her closing her eyes all night, and kept her
weeping and watching in her chamber; still worse and more trying was the
necessity of rendering herself agreeable to Mrs. Wititterly, who, being
in low spirits after the fatigue of the preceding night, of course
expected her companion (else wherefore had she board and salary?) to be
in the best spirits possible. As to Mr. Wititterly, he went about all day
in a tremor of delight at having shaken hands with a lord, and having
actually asked him to come and see him in his own house. The lord
himself, not being troubled to any inconvenient extent with the power
of thinking, regaled himself with the conversation of Messrs Pyke and
Pluck, who sharpened their wit by a plentiful indulgence in various
costly stimulants at his expense.
It was four in the afternoon--that is, the vulgar afternoon of the sun
and the clock--and Mrs. Wititterly reclined, according to custom, on the
drawing-room sofa, while Kate read aloud a new novel in three volumes,
entitled ‘The Lady Flabella,’ which Alphonse the doubtful had procured
from the library that very morning. And it was a production admirably
suited to a lady labouring under Mrs. Wititterly’s complaint, seeing that
there was not a line in it, from beginning to end, which could, by the
most remote contingency, awaken the smallest excitement in any person
breathing.
Kate read on.
‘“Cherizette,” said the Lady Flabella, inserting her mouse-like feet
in the blue satin slippers, which had unwittingly occasioned the
half-playful half-angry altercation between herself and the youthful
Colonel Befillaire, in the Duke of Mincefenille’s SALON DE DANSE on the
previous night. “CHERIZETTE, MA CHERE, DONNEZ-MOI DE L’EAU-DE-COLOGNE,
S’IL VOUS PLAIT, MON ENFANT.”
‘“MERCIE--thank you,” said the Lady Flabella, as the lively but devoted
Cherizette plentifully besprinkled with the fragrant compound the Lady
Flabella’s MOUCHOIR of finest cambric, edged with richest lace, and