Concerning a young Lady from London, who joinsthe Company, and an elderly Admirer who followsin her Train; with an affecting Ceremonyconsequent on their Arrival.

　　The new piece being a decided hit, was announced for everyevening of performance until further notice, and theevenings when the theatre was closed, were reduced fromthree in the week to two. Nor were these the only tokens ofextraordinary success; for, on the succeeding Saturday, Nicholasreceived, by favour of the indefatigable Mrs Grudden, no less asum than thirty shillings; besides which substantial reward, heenjoyed considerable fame and honour: having a presentationcopy of Mr Curdle’s pamphlet forwarded to the theatre, with thatgentleman’s own autograph (in itself an inestimable treasure) onthe fly-leaf, accompanied with a note, containing manyexpressions of approval, and an unsolicited assurance that MrCurdle would be very happy to read Shakespeare to him for threehours every morning before breakfast during his stay in the town.

　　‘I’ve got another novelty, Johnson,’ said Mr Crummles onemorning in great glee.

　　‘What’s that?’ rejoined Nicholas. ‘The pony?’

　　‘No, no, we never come to the pony till everything else hasfailed,’ said Mr Crummles. ‘I don’t think we shall come to the ponyat all, this season. No, no, not the pony.’

　　‘A boy phenomenon, perhaps?’ suggested Nicholas.

　　 ‘There is only one phenomenon, sir,’ replied Mr Crummlesimpressively, ‘and that’s a girl.’

　　‘Very true,’ said Nicholas. ‘I beg your pardon. Then I don’tknow what it is, I am sure.’

　　‘What should you say to a young lady from London?’ inquiredMr Crummles. ‘Miss So-and-so, of the Theatre Royal, DruryLane?’

　　‘I should say she would look very well in the bills,’ saidNicholas.

　　‘You’re about right there,’ said Mr Crummles; ‘and if you hadsaid she would look very well upon the stage too, you wouldn’thave been far out. Look here; what do you think of this?’

　　With this inquiry Mr Crummles unfolded a red poster, and ablue poster, and a yellow poster, at the top of each of which publicnotification was inscribed in enormous characters—‘Firstappearance of the unrivalled Miss Petowker of the Theatre Royal,Drury Lane!’

　　‘Dear me!’ said Nicholas, ‘I know that lady.’

　　‘Then you are acquainted with as much talent as was evercompressed into one young person’s body,’ retorted MrCrummles, rolling up the bills again; ‘that is, talent of a certainsort—of a certain sort. “The Blood Drinker,”’ added Mr Crummleswith a prophetic sigh, ‘“The Blood Drinker” will die with that girl;and she’s the only sylph I ever saw, who could stand upon one leg,and play the tambourine on her other knee, like a sylph.’

　　‘When does she come down?’ asked Nicholas.

　　‘We expect her today,’ replied Mr Crummles. ‘She is an oldfriend of Mrs Crummles’s. Mrs Crummles saw what she coulddo—always knew it from the first. She taught her, indeed, nearly all she knows. Mrs Crummles was the original Blood Drinker.’

　　‘Was she, indeed?’

　　‘Yes. She was obliged to give it up though.’

　　‘Did it disagree with her?’ asked Nicholas.

　　‘Not so much with her, as with her audiences,’ replied MrCrummles. ‘Nobody could stand it. It was too tremendous. Youdon’t quite know what Mrs Crummles is yet.’

　　Nicholas ventured to insinuate that he thought he did.

　　‘No, no, you don’t,’ said Mr Crummles; ‘you don’t, indeed. Idon’t, and that’s a fact. I don’t think her country will, till she isdead. Some new proof of talent bursts from that astonishingwoman every year of her life. Look at her—mother of sixchildren—three of ’em alive, and all upon the stage!’

　　‘Extraordinary!’ cried Nicholas.

　　‘Ah! extraordinary indeed,’ rejoined Mr Crummles, taking acomplacent pinch of snuff, and shaking his head gravely. ‘I pledgeyou my professional word I didn’t even know she could dance, tillher last benefit, and then she played Juliet, and Helen Macgregor,and did the skipping-rope hornpipe between the pieces. The veryfirst time I saw that admirable woman, Johnson,’ said MrCrummles, drawing a little nearer, and speaking in the tone ofconfidential friendship, ‘she stood upon her head on the butt-endof a spear, surrounded with blazing fireworks.’

　　‘You astonish me!’ said Nicholas.

　　‘SHE astonished ME!’ returned Mr Crummles, with a veryserious countenance. ‘Such grace, coupled with such dignity! Iadored her from that moment!’

　　The arrival of the gifted subject of these remarks put an abrupttermination to Mr Crummles’s eulogium. Almost immediately afterwards, Master Percy Crummles entered with a letter, whichhad arrived by the General Post, and was directed to his graciousmother; at sight of the superscription whereof, Mrs Crummlesexclaimed, ‘From Henrietta Petowker, I do declare!’ and instantlybecame absorbed in the contents.

　　‘Is it—?’ inquired Mr Crummles, hesitating.

　　‘Oh, yes, it’s all right,’ replied Mrs Crummles, anticipating thequestion. ‘What an excellent thing for her, to be sure!’

　　‘It’s the best thing altogether, that I ever heard of, I think,’ saidMr Crummles; and then Mr Crummles, Mrs Crummles, andMaster Percy Crummles, all fell to laughing violently. Nicholas leftthem to enjoy their mirth together, and walked to his lodgings;wondering very much what mystery connected with MissPetowker could provoke such merriment, and pondering stillmore on the extreme surprise with which that lady would regardhis sudden enlistment in a profession of which she was such adistinguished and brilliant ornament.

　　But, in this latter respect he was mistaken; for—whether MrVincent Crummles had paved the way, or Miss Petowker hadsome special reason for treating him with even more than herusual amiability—their meeting at the theatre next day was morelike that of two dear friends who had been inseparable frominfancy, than a recognition passing between a lady and gentlemanwho had only met some half-dozen times, and then by merechance. Nay, Miss Petowker even whispered that she had whollydropped the Kenwigses in her conversations with the manager’sfamily, and had represented herself as having encountered MrJohnson in the very first and most fashionable circles; and onNicholas receiving this intelligence with unfeigned surprise, she added, with a sweet glance, that she had a claim on his goodnature now, and might tax it before long.

　　Nicholas had the honour of playing in a slight piece with MissPetowker that night, and could not but observe that the warmth ofher reception was mainly attributable to a most perseveringumbrella in the upper boxes; he saw, too, that the enchantingactress cast many sweet looks towards the quarter whence thesesounds proceeded; and that every time she did so, the umbrellabroke out afresh. Once, he thought that a peculiarly shaped hat inthe same corner was not wholly unknown to him; but, beingoccupied with his share of the stage business, he bestowed nogreat attention upon this circumstance, and it had quite vanishedfrom his memory by the time he reached home.

　　He had just sat down to supper with Smike, when one of thepeople of the house came outside the door, and announced that agentleman below stairs wished to speak to Mr Johnson.

　　‘Well, if he does, you must tell him to come up; that’s all Iknow,’ replied Nicholas. ‘One of our hungry brethren, I suppose,Smike.’

　　His fellow-lodger looked at the cold meat in silent calculation ofthe quantity that would be left for dinner next day, and put back aslice he had cut for himself, in order that the visitor’sencroachments might be less formidable in their effects.

　　‘It is not anybody who has been here before,’ said Nicholas, ‘forhe is tumbling up every stair. Come in, come in. In the name ofwonder! Mr Lillyvick?’

　　It was, indeed, the collector of water-rates who, regardingNicholas with a fixed look and immovable countenance, shookhands with most portentous solemnity, and sat himself down in a seat by the chimney-corner.

　　‘Why, when did you come here?’ asked Nicholas.

　　‘This morning, sir,’ replied Mr Lillyvick.

　　‘Oh! I see; then you were at the theatre tonight, and it was yourumb—’

　　‘This umbrella,’ said Mr Lillyvick, producing a fat green cottonone with a battered ferrule. ‘What did you think of thatperformance?’

　　‘So far as I could judge, being on the stage,’ replied Nicholas, ‘Ithought it very agreeable.’

　　‘Agreeable!’ cried the collector. ‘I mean to say, sir, that it wasdelicious.’

　　Mr Lillyvick bent forward to pronounce the last word withgreater emphasis; and having done so, drew himself up, andfrowned and nodded a great many times.

　　‘I say, delicious,’ repeated Mr Lillyvick. ‘Absorbing, fairy-like,toomultuous,’ and again Mr Lillyvick drew himself up, and againhe frowned and nodded.

　　‘Ah!’ said Nicholas, a little surprised at these symptoms ofecstatic approbation. ‘Yes—she is a clever girl.’

　　‘She is a divinity,’ returned Mr Lillyvick, giving a collector’sdouble knock on the ground with the umbrella before-mentioned.

　　‘I have known divine actresses before now, sir, I used to collect—atleast I used to call for—and very often call for—the water-rate atthe house of a divine actress, who lived in my beat for upwards offour year but never—no, never, sir of all divine creatures,actresses or no actresses, did I see a diviner one than is HenriettaPetowker.’

　　Nicholas had much ado to prevent himself from laughing; not trusting himself to speak, he merely nodded in accordance withMr Lillyvick’s nods, and remained silent.

　　‘Let me speak a word with you in private,’ said Mr Lillyvick.

　　Nicholas looked good-humouredly at Smike, who, taking thehint, disappeared.

　　‘A bachelor is a miserable wretch, sir,’ said Mr Lillyvick.

　　‘Is he?’ asked Nicholas.

　　‘He is,’ rejoined the collector. ‘I have lived in the world for nighsixty year, and I ought to know what it is.’

　　‘You ought to know, certainly,’ thought Nicholas; ‘but whetheryou do or not, is another question.’

　　‘If a bachelor happens to have saved a little matter of money,’

　　said Mr Lillyvick, ‘his sisters and brothers, and nephews andnieces, look to that money, and not to him; even if, by being apublic character, he is the head of the family, or, as it may be, themain from which all the other little branches are turned on, theystill wish him dead all the while, and get low-spirited every timethey see him looking in good health, because they want to comeinto his little property. You see that?’

　　‘Oh yes,’ replied Nicholas: ‘it’s very true, no doubt.’

　　‘The great reason for not being married,’ resumed Mr Lillyvick,‘is the expense; that’s what’s kept me off, or else—Lord!’ said MrLillyvick, snapping his fingers, ‘I might have had fifty women.’

　　‘Fine women?’ asked Nicholas.

　　‘Fine women, sir!’ replied the collector; ‘ay! not so fine asHenrietta Petowker, for she is an uncommon specimen, but suchwomen as don’t fall into every man’s way, I can tell you. Nowsuppose a man can get a fortune in a wife instead of with her—eh?’

　　 ‘Why, then, he’s a lucky fellow,’ replied Nicholas.

　　‘That’s what I say,’ retorted the collector, patting himbenignantly on the side of the head with his umbrella; ‘just what Isay. Henrietta Petowker, the talented Henrietta Petowker has afortune in herself, and I am going to—’

　　‘To make her Mrs Lillyvick?’ suggested Nicholas.

　　‘No, sir, not to make her Mrs Lillyvick,’ replied the collector.

　　‘Actresses, sir, always keep their maiden names—that’s theregular thing—but I’m going to marry her; and the day aftertomorrow, too.’

　　‘I congratulate you, sir,’ said Nicholas.

　　‘Thank you, sir,’ replied the collector, buttoning his waistcoat. ‘Ishall draw her salary, of course, and I hope after all that it’s nearlyas cheap to keep two as it is to keep one; that’s a consolation.’

　　‘Surely you don’t want any consolation at such a moment?’

　　observed Nicholas.

　　‘No,’ replied Mr Lillyvick, shaking his head nervously: ‘no—ofcourse not.’

　　‘But how come you both here, if you’re going to be married, MrLillyvick?’ asked Nicholas.

　　‘Why, that’s what I came to explain to you,’ replied the collectorof water-rate. ‘The fact is, we have thought it best to keep it secretfrom the family.’

　　‘Family!’ said Nicholas. ‘What family?’

　　‘The Kenwigses of course,’ rejoined Mr Lillyvick. ‘If my nieceand the children had known a word about it before I came away,they’d have gone into fits at my feet, and never have come out of’em till I took an oath not to marry anybody—or they’d have gotout a commission of lunacy, or some dreadful thing,’ said the collector, quite trembling as he spoke.

　　‘To be sure,’ said Nicholas. ‘Yes; they would have been jealous,no doubt.’

　　‘To prevent which,’ said Mr Lillyvick, ‘Henrietta Petowker (itwas settled between us) should come down here to her friends, theCrummleses, under pretence of this engagement, and I should godown to Guildford the day before, and join her on the coach there,which I did, and we came down from Guildford yesterdaytogether. Now, for fear you should be writing to Mr Noggs, andmight say anything about us, we have thought it best to let youinto the secret. We shall be married from the Crummleses’

　　lodgings, and shall be delighted to see you—either before churchor at breakfast-time, which you like. It won’t be expensive, youknow,’ said the collector, highly anxious to prevent anymisunderstanding on this point; ‘just muffins and coffee, withperhaps a shrimp or something of that sort for a relish, you know.’

　　‘Yes, yes, I understand,’ replied Nicholas. ‘Oh, I shall be mosthappy to come; it will give me the greatest pleasure. Where’s thelady stopping—with Mrs Crummles?’

　　‘Why, no,’ said the collector; ‘they couldn’t very well dispose ofher at night, and so she is staying with an acquaintance of hers,and another young lady; they both belong to the theatre.’

　　‘Miss Snevellicci, I suppose?’ said Nicholas.

　　‘Yes, that’s the name.’

　　‘And they’ll be bridesmaids, I presume?’ said Nicholas.

　　‘Why,’ said the collector, with a rueful face, ‘they will have fourbridesmaids; I’m afraid they’ll make it rather theatrical.’

　　‘Oh no, not at all,’ replied Nicholas, with an awkward attempt toconvert a laugh into a cough. ‘Who may the four be? Miss Snevellicci of course—Miss Ledrook—’

　　‘The—the phenomenon,’ groaned the collector.

　　‘Ha, ha!’ cried Nicholas. ‘I beg your pardon, I don’t know whatI’m laughing at—yes, that’ll be very pretty—the phenomenon—who else?’

　　‘Some young woman or other,’ replied the collector, rising;‘some other friend of Henrietta Petowker’s. Well, you’ll be carefulnot to say anything about it, will you?’

　　‘You may safely depend upon me,’ replied Nicholas. ‘Won’t youtake anything to eat or drink?’

　　‘No,’ said the collector; ‘I haven’t any appetite. I should think itwas a very pleasant life, the married one, eh?’

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