`I am sure,' said the worthy lady, with a prefatory cough, `that it's a great relief, under such trying circumstances as these, to have anybody else mistaken for me--a very great relief; and it's a circumstance that never occurred before, although I have several times been mistaken for my daughter Kate. I have no doubt the people were very foolish, and perhaps ought to have known better, but still they did take me for her, and of course that was no fault of mine, and it would be very hard indeed if Iwas to be made responsible for it. However, in this instance, of course, I must feel that I should do exceedingly wrong if I suffered anybody--especially anybody that I am under great obligations to--to be made uncomfortable on my account, and therefore I think it my duty to tell that gentleman that he is mistaken--that I am the lady who he was told by some impertinent person was niece to the Council of Paving-stones, and that I do beg and entreat of him to go quietly away, if it's only for'--here Mrs Nickleby simpered and hesitated--`for my sake.'
It might have been expected that the old gentleman would have been penetrated to the heart by the delicacy and condescension of this appeal, and that he would at least have returned a courteous and suitable reply. What, then, was the shock which Mrs Nickleby received, when, accosting her in the most unmistakable manner, he replied in a loud and sonourous voice--`Avaunt--Cat!'
`Sir!' cried Mrs Nickleby, in a faint tone.
`Cat!' repeated the old gentleman. `Puss, Kit, Tit, Grimalkin, Tabby, Brindle--Whoosh!' with which last sound, uttered in a hissing manner between his teeth, the old gentleman swung his arms violently round and round, and at the same time alternately advanced on Mrs Nickleby, and retreated from her, in that species of savage dance with which boys on market-days may be seen to frighten pigs, sheep, and other animals, when they give out obstinate indications of turning down a wrong street.
Mrs Nickleby wasted no words, but uttered an exclamation of horror and surprise, and immediately fainted away.
`I'll attend to mamma,' said Kate, hastily; `I am not at all frightened.
But pray take him away: pray take him away!'
Frank was not at all confident of his power of complying with this request, until he bethought himself of the stratagem of sending Miss La Creevy on a few paces in advance, and urging the old gentleman to follow her. It succeeded to a miracle; and he went away in a rapture of admiration, strongly guarded by Tim Linkinwater on one side, and Frank himself on the other.
`Kate,' murmured Mrs Nickleby, reviving when the coast was clear, `is he gone?'
She was assured that he was.
`I shall never forgive myself, Kate,' said Mrs Nickleby. `Never! That gentleman has lost his senses, and I am the unhappy cause.'
` you the cause!' said Kate, greatly astonished.
`I, my love,' replied Mrs Nickleby, with a desperate calmness. `You saw what he was the other day; you see what he is now. I told your brother, weeks and weeks ago, Kate, that I hoped a disappointment might not be too much for him. You see what a wreck he is. Making allowance for his being a little flighty, you know how rationally, and sensibly, and honourably he talked, when we saw him in the garden. You have heard the dreadful nonsense he has been guilty of this night, and the manner in which he has gone on with that poor unfortunate little old maid. Can anybody doubt how all this has been brought about?'
`I should scarcely think they could,' said Kate mildly.
` I should scarcely think so, either,' rejoined her mother. `Well!
