Miss Nickleby, rendered desperate by thePersecution of Sir Mulberry Hawk, and theComplicated Difficulties and Distresses whichsurround her, appeals, as a last resource, to herUncle for Protection.
The ensuing morning brought reflection with it, as morningusually does; but widely different was the train of thoughtit awakened in the different persons who had been sounexpectedly brought together on the preceding evening, by theactive agency of Messrs Pyke and Pluck.
The reflections of Sir Mulberry Hawk—if such a term can beapplied to the thoughts of the systematic and calculating man ofdissipation, whose joys, regrets, pains, and pleasures, are all ofself, and who would seem to retain nothing of the intellectualfaculty but the power to debase himself, and to degrade the verynature whose outward semblance he wears—the reflections of SirMulberry Hawk turned upon Kate Nickleby, and were, in brief,that she was undoubtedly handsome; that her coyness must beeasily conquerable by a man of his address and experience, andthat the pursuit was one which could not fail to redound to hiscredit, and greatly to enhance his reputation with the world. Andlest this last consideration—no mean or secondary one with SirMulberry—should sound strangely in the ears of some, let it beremembered that most men live in a world of their own, and that in that limited circle alone are they ambitious for distinction andapplause. Sir Mulberry’s world was peopled with profligates, andhe acted accordingly.
Thus, cases of injustice, and oppression, and tyranny, and themost extravagant bigotry, are in constant occurrence among usevery day. It is the custom to trumpet forth much wonder andastonishment at the chief actors therein setting at defiance socompletely the opinion of the world; but there is no greater fallacy;it is precisely because they do consult the opinion of their ownlittle world that such things take place at all, and strike the greatworld dumb with amazement.
The reflections of Mrs Nickleby were of the proudest and mostcomplacent kind; and under the influence of her very agreeabledelusion she straightway sat down and indited a long letter toKate, in which she expressed her entire approval of the admirablechoice she had made, and extolled Sir Mulberry to the skies;asserting, for the more complete satisfaction of her daughter’sfeelings, that he was precisely the individual whom she (MrsNickleby) would have chosen for her son-in-law, if she had had thepicking and choosing from all mankind. The good lady then, withthe preliminary observation that she might be fairly supposed notto have lived in the world so long without knowing its ways,communicated a great many subtle precepts applicable to thestate of courtship, and confirmed in their wisdom by her ownpersonal experience. Above all things she commended a strictmaidenly reserve, as being not only a very laudable thing in itself,but as tending materially to strengthen and increase a lover’sardour. ‘And I never,’ added Mrs Nickleby, ‘was more delighted inmy life than to observe last night, my dear, that your good sense had already told you this.’ With which sentiment, and varioushints of the pleasure she derived from the knowledge that herdaughter inherited so large an instalment of her own excellentsense and discretion (to nearly the full measure of which shemight hope, with care, to succeed in time), Mrs Nicklebyconcluded a very long and rather illegible letter.
Poor Kate was well-nigh distracted on the receipt of fourclosely-written and closely-crossed sides of congratulation on thevery subject which had prevented her closing her eyes all night,and kept her weeping and watching in her chamber; still worseand more trying was the necessity of rendering herself agreeableto Mrs Wititterly, who, being in low spirits after the fatigue of thepreceding night, of course expected her companion (elsewherefore had she board and salary?) to be in the best spiritspossible. As to Mr Wititterly, he went about all day in a tremor ofdelight at having shaken hands with a lord, and having actuallyasked him to come and see him in his own house. The lordhimself, not being troubled to any inconvenient extent with thepower of thinking, regaled himself with the conversation of MessrsPyke and Pluck, who sharpened their wit by a plentiful indulgencein various costly stimulants at his expense.
It was four in the afternoon—that is, the vulgar afternoon of thesun and the clock—and Mrs Wititterly reclined, according tocustom, on the drawing-room sofa, while Kate read aloud a newnovel in three volumes, entitled ‘The Lady Flabella,’ whichAlphonse the doubtful had procured from the library that verymorning. And it was a production admirably suited to a ladylabouring under Mrs Wititterly’s complaint, seeing that there wasnot a line in it, from beginning to end, which could, by the most remote contingency, awaken the smallest excitement in anyperson breathing.
Kate read on.
‘“Cherizette,” said the Lady Flabella, inserting her mouse-likefeet in the blue satin slippers, which had unwittingly occasionedthe half-playful half-angry altercation between herself and theyouthful Colonel Befillaire, in the Duke of Mincefenille’s salon dedanse on the previous night. “Cherizette, ma chère, donnez-moi del’eau-de-Cologne, s’il vous pla.t, mon enfant.”
‘“Merci—thank you,” said the Lady Flabella, as the lively butdevoted Cherizette plentifully besprinkled with the fragrantcompound the Lady Flabella’s mouchoir of finest cambric, edgedwith richest lace, and emblazoned at the four corners with theFlabella crest, and gorgeous heraldic bearings of that noble family.
“Merci—that will do.”
‘At this instant, while the Lady Flabella yet inhaled thatdelicious fragrance by holding the mouchoir to her exquisite, butthoughtfully-chiselled nose, the door of the boudoir (artfullyconcealed by rich hangings of silken damask, the hue of Italy’sfirmament) was thrown open, and with noiseless tread two valets-de-chambre, clad in sumptuous liveries of peach-blossom and gold,advanced into the room followed by a page in bas de soie—silkstockings—who, while they remained at some distance making themost graceful obeisances, advanced to the feet of his lovelymistress, and dropping on one knee presented, on a golden salvergorgeously chased, a scented billet.
‘The Lady Flabella, with an agitation she could not repress,hastily tore off the envelope and broke the scented seal. It wasfrom Befillaire—the young, the slim, the low-voiced—her own Befillaire.’
‘Oh, charming!’ interrupted Kate’s patroness, who wassometimes taken literary. ‘Poetic, really. Read that descriptionagain, Miss Nickleby.’
Kate complied.
‘Sweet, indeed!’ said Mrs Wititterly, with a sigh. ‘So voluptuous,is it not—so soft?’
‘Yes, I think it is,’ replied Kate, gently; ‘very soft.’
‘Close the book, Miss Nickleby,’ said Mrs Wititterly. ‘I can hearnothing more today; I should be sorry to disturb the impression ofthat sweet description. Close the book.’
Kate complied, not unwillingly; and, as she did so, MrsWititterly raising her glass with a languid hand, remarked, thatshe looked pale.
‘It was the fright of that—that noise and confusion last night,’
said Kate.
‘How very odd!’ exclaimed Mrs Wititterly, with a look ofsurprise. And certainly, when one comes to think of it, it was veryodd that anything should have disturbed a companion. A steam-engine, or other ingenious piece of mechanism out of order, wouldhave been nothing to it.
‘How did you come to know Lord Frederick, and those otherdelightful creatures, child?’ asked Mrs Wititterly, still eyeing Katethrough her glass.
‘I met them at my uncle’s,’ said Kate, vexed to feel that she wascolouring deeply, but unable to keep down the blood which rushedto her face whenever she thought of that man.
‘Have you known them long?’
‘No,’ rejoined Kate. ‘Not long.’
‘I was very glad of the opportunity which that respectableperson, your mother, gave us of being known to them,’ said MrsWititterly, in a lofty manner. ‘Some friends of ours were on thevery point of introducing us, which makes it quite remarkable.’
This was said lest Miss Nickleby should grow conceited on thehonour and dignity of having known four great people (for Pykeand Pluck were included among the delightful creatures), whomMrs Wititterly did not know. But as the circumstance had made noimpression one way or other upon Kate’s mind, the force of theobservation was quite lost upon her.
‘They asked permission to call,’ said Mrs Wititterly. ‘I gave itthem of course.’
‘Do you expect them today?’ Kate ventured to inquire.
Mrs Wititterly’s answer was lost in the noise of a tremendousrapping at the street-door, and before it had ceased to vibrate,there drove up a handsome cabriolet, out of which leaped SirMulberry Hawk and his friend Lord Verisopht.
‘They are here now,’ said Kate, rising and hurrying away.
‘Miss Nickleby!’ cried Mrs Wititterly, perfectly aghast at acompanion’s attempting to quit the room, without her permissionfirst had and obtained. ‘Pray don’t think of going.’
‘You are very good!’ replied Kate. ‘But—’
‘For goodness’ sake, don’t agitate me by making me speak somuch,’ said Mrs Wititterly, with great sharpness. ‘Dear me, MissNickleby, I beg—’
It was in vain for Kate to protest that she was unwell, for thefootsteps of the knockers, whoever they were, were already on thestairs. She resumed her seat, and had scarcely done so, when thedoubtful page darted into the room and announced, Mr Pyke, and Mr Pluck, and Lord Verisopht, and Sir Mulberry Hawk, all at oneburst.
‘The most extraordinary thing in the world,’ said Mr Pluck,saluting both ladies with the utmost cordiality; ‘the mostextraordinary thing. As Lord Frederick and Sir Mulberry drove upto the door, Pyke and I had that instant knocked.’
‘That instant knocked,’ said Pyke.
‘No matter how you came, so that you are here,’ said MrsWititterly, who, by dint of lying on the same sofa for three yearsand a half, had got up quite a little pantomime of gracefulattitudes, and now threw herself into the most striking of thewhole series, to astonish the visitors. ‘I am delighted, I am sure.’
‘And how is Miss Nickleby?’ said Sir Mulberry Hawk, accostingKate, in a low voice—not so low, however, but that it reached theears of Mrs Wititterly.
‘Why, she complains of suffering from the fright of last night,’
said the lady. ‘I am sure I don’t wonder at it, for my nerves arequite torn to pieces.’
‘And yet you look,’ observed Sir Mulberry, turning round; ‘andyet you look—’
‘Beyond everything,’ said Mr Pyke, coming to his patron’sassistance. Of course Mr Pluck said the same.
‘I am afraid Sir Mulberry is a flatterer, my lord,’ said MrsWititterly, turning to that young gentleman, who had been suckingthe head of his cane in silence, and staring at Kate.
‘Oh, deyvlish!’ replied Verisopht. Having given utterance towhich remarkable sentiment, he occupied himself as before.
‘Neither does Miss Nickleby look the worse,’ said Sir Mulberry,bending his bold gaze upon her. ‘She was always handsome, but upon my soul, ma’am, you seem to have imparted some of yourown good looks to her besides.’
To judge from the glow which suffused the poor girl’scountenance after this speech, Mrs Wititterly might, with someshow of reason, have been supposed to have imparted to it some ofthat artificial bloom which decorated her own. Mrs Wititterlyadmitted, though not with the best grace in the world, that Katedid look pretty. She began to think, too, that Sir Mulberry was notquite so agreeable a creature as she had at first supposed him; for,although a skilful flatterer is a most delightful companion if youcan keep him all to yourself, his taste becomes very doubtful whenhe takes to complimenting other people.
‘Pyke,’ said the watchful Mr Pluck, observing the effect whichthe praise of Miss Nickleby had produced.
‘Well, Pluck,’ said Pyke.
‘Is there anybody,’ demanded Mr Pluck, mysteriously, ‘anybodyyou know, that Mrs Wititterly’s profile reminds you of?’
‘Reminds me of!’ answered Pyke. ‘Of course there is.’
‘Who do you mean?’ said Pluck, in the same mysteriousmanner. ‘The D. of B.?’
‘The C. of B.,’ replied Pyke, with the faintest trace of a grinlingering in his countenance. ‘The beautiful sister is the countess;not the duchess.’
‘True,’ said Pluck, ‘the C. of B. The resemblance is wonderful!’
‘Perfectly startling,’ said Mr Pyke.
Here was a state of things! Mrs Wititterly was declared, uponthe testimony of two veracious and competent witnesses, to be thevery picture of a countess! This was one of the consequences ofgetting into good society. Why, she might have moved among grovelling people for twenty years, and never heard of it. Howcould she, indeed? what did they know about countesses?
The two gentlemen having, by the greediness with which thislittle bait was swallowed, tested the extent of Mrs Wititterly’sappetite for adulation, proceeded to administer that commodity invery large doses, thus affording to Sir Mulberry Hawk anopportunity of pestering Miss Nickleby with questions andremarks, to which she was absolutely obliged to make some reply.
Meanwhile, Lord Verisopht enjoyed unmolested the full flavour ofthe gold knob at the top of his cane, as he would have done to theend of the interview if Mr Wititterly had not come home, andcaused the conversation to turn to his favourite topic.
‘My lord,’ said Mr Wititterly, ‘I am delighted—honoured—proud. Be seated again, my lord, pray. I am proud, indeed—mostproud.’
It was to the secret annoyance of his wife that Mr Wititterly saidall this, for, although she was bursting with pride and arrogance,she would have had the illustrious guests believe that their visitwas quite a common occurrence, and that they had lords andbaronets to see them every day in the week. But Mr Wititterly’sfeelings were beyond the power of suppression.
‘It is an honour, indeed!’ said Mr Wititterly. ‘Julia, my soul, youwill suffer for this tomorrow.’
‘Suffer!’ cried Lord Verisopht.
‘The reaction, my lord, the reaction,’ said Mr Wititterly. ‘Thisviolent strain upon the nervous system over, my lord, whatensues? A sinking, a depression, a lowness, a lassitude, a debility.
My lord, if Sir Tumley Snuffim was to see that delicate creature atthis moment, he would not give a—a—this for her life.’ In illustration of which remark, Mr Wititterly took a pinch of snufffrom his box, and jerked it lightly into the air as an emblem ofinstability.
‘Not THAT,’ said Mr Wititterly, looking about him with aserious countenance. ‘Sir Tumley Snuffim would not give that forMrs Wititterly’s existence.’
Mr Wititterly told this with a kind of sober exultation, as if itwere no trifling distinction for a man to have a wife in such adesperate state, and Mrs Wititterly sighed and looked on, as if shefelt the honour, but had determined to bear it as meekly as mightbe.
‘Mrs Wititterly,’ said her husband, ‘is Sir Tumley Snuffim’sfavourite patient. I believe I may venture to say, that MrsWititterly is the first person who took the new medicine which issupposed to have destroyed a family at Kensington Gravel Pits. Ibelieve she was. If I am wrong, Julia, my dear, you will correctme.’
‘I believe I was,’ said Mrs Wititterly, in a faint voice.
As there appeared to be some doubt in the mind of his patronhow he could best join in this conversation, the indefatigable MrPyke threw himself into the breach, and, by way of sayingsomething to the point, inquired—with reference to the aforesaidmedicine—whether it was nice.
‘No, sir, it was not. It had not even that recommendation,’ saidMr W.
‘Mrs Wititterly is quite a martyr,’ observed Pyke, with acomplimentary bow.
‘I think I am,’ said Mrs Wititterly, smiling.
‘I think you are, my dear Julia,’ replied her husband, in a tone which seemed to say that he was not vain, but still must insistupon their privileges. ‘If anybody, my lord,’ added Mr Wititterly,wheeling round to the nobleman, ‘will produce to me a greatermartyr than Mrs Wititterly, all I can say is, that I shall be glad tosee that martyr, whether male or female—that’s all, my lord.’
Pyke and Pluck promptly remarked that certainly nothingcould be fairer than that; and the call having been by this timeprotracted to a very great length, they obeyed Sir Mulberry’s look,and rose to go. This brought Sir Mulberry himself and LordVerisopht on their legs also. Many protestations of friendship, andexpressions anticipative of the pleasure which must inevitablyflow from so happy an acquaintance, were exchanged, and thevisitors departed, with renewed assurances that at all times andseasons the mansion of the Wititterlys would be honoured byreceiving them beneath its roof.
That they came at all times and seasons—that they dined thereone day, supped the next, dined again on the next, and wereconstantly to and fro on all—that they made parties to visit publicplaces, and met by accident at lounges—that upon all theseoccasions Miss Nickleby was exposed to the constant andunremitting persecution of Sir Mulberry Hawk, who now began tofeel his character, even in the estimation of his two dependants,involved in the successful reduction of her pride—that she had nointervals of peace or rest, except at those hours when she could sitin her solitary room, and weep over the trials of the day—all thesewere consequences naturally flowing from the well-laid plans ofSir Mulberry, and their able execution by the auxiliaries, Pyke andPluck.
And thus for a fortnight matters went on. That any but the weakest and silliest of people could have seen in one interviewthat Lord Verisopht, though he was a lord, and Sir MulberryHawk, though he was a baronet, were not persons accustomed tobe the best possible companions, and were certainly not calculatedby habits, manners, tastes, or conversation, to shine with any verygreat lustre in the society of ladies, need scarcely be remarked.
But with Mrs Wititterly the two titles were all sufficient;coarseness became humour, vulgarity softened itself down into themost charming eccentricity; insolence took the guise of an easyabsence of reserve, attainable only by those who had had the goodfortune to mix with high folks.
If the mistress put such a construction upon the behaviour ofher new friends, what could the companion urge against them? Ifthey accustomed themselves to very little restraint before the ladyof the house, with how much more freedom could they address herpaid dependent! Nor was even this the worst. As the odious SirMulberry Hawk attached himself to Kate with less and less ofdisguise, Mrs Wititterly began to grow jealous of the superiorattractions of Miss Nickleby. If this feeling had led to herbanishment from the drawing-room when such company wasthere, Kate would have been only too happy and willing that itshould have existed, but unfortun............