“It has been the happiest time in all my life; at least, away from the countinghouse and Cheeryble Brothers,” said Tim. “Do, my dear! Now say you will.”
“No, no, we mustn’t think of it,” returned Miss La Creevy. “What would the brothers say?”
“Why, God bless your soul!” cried Tim, innocently, “you don’t suppose I should think of such a thing without their knowing it! Why they left us here on purpose.”
“I can never look ’em in the face again!” exclaimed Miss La Creevy, faintly.
“Come,” said Tim, “let’s be a comfortable couple. We shall live in the old house here, where I have been for four-and-forty year; we shall go to the old church, where I’ve been, every Sunday morning, all through that time; we shall have all my old friends about us—Dick, the archway, the pump, the flowerpots, and Mr. Frank’s children, and Mr. Nickleby’s children, that we shall seem like grandfather and grandmother to. Let’s be a comfortable couple, and take care of each other! And if we should get deaf, or lame, or blind, or bedridden, how glad we shall be that we have somebody we are fond of, always to talk to and sit with! Let’s be a comfortable couple. Now, do, my dear!”
Five minutes after this honest and straightforward speech, little Miss La Creevy and Tim were talking as pleasantly as if they had been married for a score of years, and had never once quarrelled all the time; and five minutes after that, when Miss La Creevy had bustled out to see if her eyes were red and put her hair to rights, Tim moved with a stately step towards the drawing-room, exclaiming as he went, “There an’t such another woman in all London! I know there an’t!”
By this time, the apoplectic butler was nearly in fits, in consequence of the unheard-of postponement of dinner. Nicholas, who had been engaged in a manner in which every reader may imagine for himself or herself, was hurrying downstairs in obedience to his angry summons, when he encountered a new surprise.
On his way down, he overtook, in one of the passages, a stranger genteelly dressed in black, who was also moving towards the dining-room. As he was rather lame, and walked slowly, Nicholas lingered behind, and was following him step by step, wondering who he was, when he suddenly turned round and caught him by both hands.
“Newman Noggs!” cried Nicholas joyfully.
“Ah! Newman, your own Newman, your own old faithful Newman! My dear boy, my dear Nick, I give you joy—health, happiness, every blessing! I can’t bear it—it’s too much, my dear boy—it makes a child of me!”
“Where have you been?” said Nicholas. “What have you been doing? How often have I inquired for you, and been told that I should hear before long!”
“I know, I know!” returned Newman. “They wanted all the happiness to come together. I’ve been helping ’em. I—I—look at me, Nick, look at me!”
“You would never let me do that,” said Nicholas in a tone of gentle reproach.
“I didn’t mind what I was, then. I shouldn’t have had the heart to put on gentleman’s clothes. They would have reminded me of old times and made me miserable. I am another man now, Nick. My dear boy, I can’t speak. Don’t say anything to me. Don’t think the worse of me for these tears. You don’t know what I feel today; you can’t, and never will!”
They walked in to dinner arm-in-arm, and sat down side by side.
Never was such a dinner as that, since the world began. There was the superannuated bank clerk, Tim Linkinwater’s friend; and there was the chubby old lady, Tim Linkinwater’s sister; and there was so much attention from Tim Linkinwater’s sister to Miss La Creevy, and there were so many jokes from the superannuated bank clerk, and Tim Linkinwater himself was in such tiptop spirits, and little Miss La Creevy was in such a comical state, that of themselves they would have composed the pleasantest party conceivable. Then, there was Mrs. Nickleby, so grand and complacent; Madeline and Kate, so blushing and beautiful; Nicholas and Frank, so devoted and proud; and all four so silently and tremblingly happy; there was Newman so subdued yet so overjoyed, and there were the twin brothers so delighted and interchanging such looks, that the old servant stood transfixed behind his master’s chair, and felt his eyes grow dim as they wandered round the table.
When the first novelty of the meeting had worn off, and they began truly to feel how happy they were, the conversation became more general, and the harmony and pleasure if possible increased. The brothers were in a perfect ecstasy; and their insisting on saluting the ladies all round, before they would permit them to retire, gave occasion to the superannuated bank clerk to say so many good things, that he quite outshone himself, and was looked upon as a prodigy of humour.
“Kate, my dear,” said Mrs. Nickleby, taking her daughter aside, as soon as they got upstairs, “you don’t really mean to tell me that this is actually true about Miss La Creevy and Mr. Linkinwater?”
“Indeed it is, mama.”
“Why, I never heard such a thing in my life!” exclaimed Mrs. Nickleby.
“Mr. Linkinwater is a most excellent creature,” reasoned Kate, “and, for his age, quite young still.”
“For his age, my dear!” returned Mrs. Nickleby, “yes; nobody says anything against him, except that I think he is the weakest and most foolish man I ever knew. It’s her age I speak of. That he should have gone and offered himself to a woman who must be—ah, half as old again as I am—and that she should have dared to accept him! It don’t signify, Kate; I’m disgusted with her!”
Shaking her head very emphatically indeed, Mrs. Nickleby swept away; and all the evening, in the midst of the merriment and enjoyment that ensued, and in which with that exception she freely participated, conducted herself towards Miss
