Wherein Nicholas at length encounters his Uncle, towhom he expresses his Sentiments with muchCandour. His Resolution.

　　Little Miss La Creevy trotted briskly through divers streetsat the west end of the town, early on Monday morning—the day after the dinner—charged with the importantcommission of acquainting Madame Mantalini that Miss Nicklebywas too unwell to attend that day, but hoped to be enabled toresume her duties on the morrow. And as Miss La Creevy walkedalong, revolving in her mind various genteel forms and elegantturns of expression, with a view to the selection of the very best inwhich to couch her communication, she cogitated a good dealupon the probable causes of her young friend’s indisposition.

　　‘I don’t know what to make of it,’ said Miss La Creevy. ‘Her eyeswere decidedly red last night. She said she had a headache;headaches don’t occasion red eyes. She must have been crying.’

　　Arriving at this conclusion, which, indeed, she had establishedto her perfect satisfaction on the previous evening, Miss La Creevywent on to consider—as she had done nearly all night—what newcause of unhappiness her young friend could possibly have had.

　　‘I can’t think of anything,’ said the little portrait painter.

　　‘Nothing at all, unless it was the behaviour of that old bear. Crossto her, I suppose? Unpleasant brute!’

　　Relieved by this expression of opinion, albeit it was ventedupon empty air, Miss La Creevy trotted on to Madame Mantalini’s; and being informed that the governing power was not yet out ofbed, requested an interview with the second in command;whereupon Miss Knag appeared.

　　‘So far as I am concerned,’ said Miss Knag, when the messagehad been delivered, with many ornaments of speech; ‘I couldspare Miss Nickleby for evermore.’

　　‘Oh, indeed, ma’am!’ rejoined Miss La Creevy, highly offended.

　　‘But, you see, you are not mistress of the business, and thereforeit’s of no great consequence.’

　　‘Very good, ma’am,’ said Miss Knag. ‘Have you any furthercommands for me?’

　　‘No, I have not, ma’am,’ rejoined Miss La Creevy.

　　‘Then good-morning, ma’am,’ said Miss Knag.

　　‘Good-morning to you, ma’am; and many obligations for yourextreme politeness and good breeding,’ rejoined Miss La Creevy.

　　Thus terminating the interview, during which both ladies hadtrembled very much, and been marvellously polite—certainindications that they were within an inch of a very desperatequarrel—Miss La Creevy bounced out of the room, and into thestreet.

　　‘I wonder who that is,’ said the queer little soul. ‘A nice personto know, I should think! I wish I had the painting of her: I’D do herjustice.’ So, feeling quite satisfied that she had said a very cuttingthing at Miss Knag’s expense, Miss La Creevy had a hearty laugh,and went home to breakfast in great good humour.

　　Here was one of the advantages of having lived alone so long!

　　The little bustling, active, cheerful creature existed entirely withinherself, talked to herself, made a confidante of herself, was assarcastic as she could be, on people who offended her, by herself; pleased herself, and did no harm. If she indulged in scandal,nobody’s reputation suffered; and if she enjoyed a little bit ofrevenge, no living soul was one atom the worse. One of the manyto whom, from straitened circumstances, a consequent inability toform the associations they would wish, and a disinclination to mixwith the society they could obtain, London is as complete asolitude as the plains of Syria, the humble artist had pursued herlonely, but contented way for many years; and, until the peculiarmisfortunes of the Nickleby family attracted her attention, hadmade no friends, though brimful of the friendliest feelings to allmankind. There are many warm hearts in the same solitary guiseas poor little Miss La Creevy’s.

　　However, that’s neither here nor there, just now. She wenthome to breakfast, and had scarcely caught the full flavour of herfirst sip of tea, when the servant announced a gentleman, whereatMiss La Creevy, at once imagining a new sitter transfixed byadmiration at the street-door case, was in unspeakableconsternation at the presence of the tea-things.

　　‘Here, take ’em away; run with ’em into the bedroom;anywhere,’ said Miss La Creevy. ‘Dear, dear; to think that I shouldbe late on this particular morning, of all others, after being readyfor three weeks by half-past eight o’clock, and not a soul comingnear the place!’

　　‘Don’t let me put you out of the way,’ said a voice Miss LaCreevy knew. ‘I told the servant not to mention my name, becauseI wished to surprise you.’

　　‘Mr Nicholas!’ cried Miss La Creevy, starting in greatastonishment. ‘You have not forgotten me, I see,’ replied Nicholas,extending his hand.

　　 ‘Why, I think I should even have known you if I had met you inthe street,’ said Miss La Creevy, with a smile. ‘Hannah, anothercup and saucer. Now, I’ll tell you what, young man; I’ll trouble younot to repeat the impertinence you were guilty of, on the morningyou went away.’

　　‘You would not be very angry, would you?’ asked Nicholas.

　　‘Wouldn’t I!’ said Miss La Creevy. ‘You had better try; that’sall!’

　　Nicholas, with becoming gallantry, immediately took Miss LaCreevy at her word, who uttered a faint scream and slapped hisface; but it was not a very hard slap, and that’s the truth.

　　‘I never saw such a rude creature!’ exclaimed Miss La Creevy.

　　‘You told me to try,’ said Nicholas.

　　‘Well; but I was speaking ironically,’ rejoined Miss La Creevy.

　　‘Oh! that’s another thing,’ said Nicholas; ‘you should have toldme that, too.’

　　‘I dare say you didn’t know, indeed!’ retorted Miss La Creevy.

　　‘But, now I look at you again, you seem thinner than when I sawyou last, and your face is haggard and pale. And how come you tohave left Yorkshire?’

　　She stopped here; for there was so much heart in her alteredtone and manner, that Nicholas was quite moved.

　　‘I need look somewhat changed,’ he said, after a short silence;‘for I have undergone some suffering, both of mind and body,since I left London. I have been very poor, too, and have evensuffered from want.’

　　‘Good Heaven, Mr Nicholas!’ exclaimed Miss La Creevy, ‘whatare you telling me?’

　　‘Nothing which need distress you quite so much,’ answered Nicholas, with a more sprightly air; ‘neither did I come here tobewail my lot, but on matter more to the purpose. I wish to meetmy uncle face to face. I should tell you that first.’

　　‘Then all I have to say about that is,’ interposed Miss La Creevy,‘that I don’t envy you your taste; and that sitting in the same roomwith his very boots, would put me out of humour for a fortnight.’

　　‘In the main,’ said Nicholas, ‘there may be no great difference ofopinion between you and me, so far; but you will understand, thatI desire to confront him, to justify myself, and to cast his duplicityand malice in his throat.’

　　‘That’s quite another matter,’ rejoined Miss La Creevy. ‘Heavenforgive me; but I shouldn’t cry my eyes quite out of my head, ifthey choked him. Well?’

　　‘To this end, I called upon him this morning,’ said Nicholas. ‘Heonly returned to town on Saturday, and I knew nothing of hisarrival until late last night.’

　　‘And did you see him?’ asked Miss La Creevy.

　　‘No,’ replied Nicholas. ‘He had gone out.’

　　‘Hah!’ said Miss La Creevy; ‘on some kind, charitable business,I dare say.’

　　‘I have reason to believe,’ pursued Nicholas, ‘from what hasbeen told me, by a friend of mine who is acquainted with hismovements, that he intends seeing my mother and sister today,and giving them his version of the occurrences that have befallenme. I will meet him there.’

　　‘That’s right,’ said Miss La Creevy, rubbing her hands. ‘And yet,I don’t know,’ she added, ‘there is much to be thought of—othersto be considered.’

　　‘I have considered others,’ rejoined Nicholas; ‘but as honesty and honour are both at issue, nothing shall deter me.’

　　‘You should know best,’ said Miss La Creevy.

　　‘In this case I hope so,’ answered Nicholas. ‘And all I want youto do for me, is, to prepare them for my coming. They think me along way off, and if I went wholly unexpected, I should frightenthem. If you can spare time to tell them that you have seen me,and that I shall be with them in a quarter of an hour afterwards,you will do me a great service.’

　　‘I wish I could do you, or any of you, a greater,’ said Miss LaCreevy; ‘but the power to serve, is as seldom joined with the will,as the will is with the power, I think.’

　　Talking on very fast and very much, Miss La Creevy finishedher breakfast with great expedition, put away the tea-caddy andhid the key under the fender, resumed her bonnet, and, takingNicholas’s arm, sallied forth at once to the city. Nicholas left hernear the door of his mother’s house, and promised to return withina quarter of an hour.

　　It so chanced that Ralph Nickleby, at length seeing fit, for hisown purposes, to communicate the atrocities of which Nicholashad been guilty, had (instead of first proceeding to anotherquarter of the town on business, as Newman Noggs supposed hewould) gone straight to his sister-in-law. Hence, when Miss LaCreevy, admitted by a girl who was cleaning the house, made herway to the sitting-room, she found Mrs Nickleby and Kate in tears,and Ralph just concluding his statement of his nephew’smisdemeanours. Kate beckoned her not to retire, and Miss LaCreevy took a seat in silence.

　　‘You are here already, are you, my gentleman?’ thought thelittle woman. ‘Then he shall announce himself, and see what effect that has on you.’

　　‘This is pretty,’ said Ralph, folding up Miss Squeers’s note;‘very pretty. I recommend him—against all my previousconviction, for I knew he would never do any good—to a man withwhom, behaving himself properly, he might have remained, incomfort, for years. What is the result? Conduct for which he mighthold up his hand at the Old Bailey.’

　　‘I never will believe it,’ said Kate, indignantly; ‘never. It is somebase conspiracy, which carries its own falsehood with it.’

　　‘My dear,’ said Ralph, ‘you wrong the worthy man. These arenot inventions. The man is assaulted, your brother is not to befound; this boy, of whom they speak, goes with him—remember,remember.’

　　‘It is impossible,’ said Kate. ‘Nicholas!—and a thief too! Mama,how can you sit and hear such statements?’

　　Poor Mrs Nickleby, who had, at no time, been remarkable forthe possession of a very clear understanding, and who had beenreduced by the late changes in her affairs to a most complicatedstate of perplexity, made no other reply to this earnestremonstrance than exclaiming from behind a mass of pocket-handkerchief, that she never could have believed it—thereby mostingeniously leaving her hearers to suppose that she did believe it.

　　‘It would be my duty, if he came in my way, to deliver him up tojustice,’ said Ralph, ‘my bounden duty; I should have no othercourse, as a man of the world and a man of business, to pursue.

　　And yet,’ said Ralph, speaking in a very marked manner, andlooking furtively, but fixedly, at Kate, ‘and yet I would not. I wouldspare the feelings of his—of his sister. And his mother of course,’

　　added Ralph, as though by an afterthought, and with far less emphasis.

　　Kate very well understood that this was held out as anadditional inducement to her to preserve the strictest silenceregarding the events of the preceding night. She lookedinvoluntarily towards Ralph as he ceased to speak, but he hadturned his eyes another way, and seemed for the moment quiteunconscious of her presence.

　　‘Everything,’ said Ralph, after a long silence, broken only byMrs Nickleby’s sobs, ’everything combines to prove the truth ofthis letter, if indeed there were any possibility of disputing it. Doinnocent men steal away from the sight of honest folks, and skulkin hiding-places, like outlaws? Do innocent men inveigle namelessvagabonds, and prowl with them about the country as idle robbersdo? Assault, riot, theft, what do you call these?’

　　‘A lie!’ cried a voice, as the door was dashed open, and Nicholascame into the room.

　　In the first moment of surprise, and possibly of alarm, Ralphrose from his seat, and fell back a few paces, quite taken off hisguard by this unexpected apparition. In another moment, hestood, fixed and immovable with folded arms, regarding hisnephew with a scowl; while Kate and Miss La Creevy threwthemselves between the two, to prevent the personal violencewhich the fierce excitement of Nicholas appeared to threaten.

　　‘Dear Nicholas,’ cried his sister, clinging to him. ‘Be calm,consider—’

　　‘Consider, Kate!’ cried Nicholas, clasping her hand so tight inthe tumult of his anger, that she could scarcely bear the pain.

　　‘When I consider all, and think of what has passed, I need be madeof iron to stand before him.’

　　 ‘Or............