hair and
swooned away.

'She has fainted, sir,' said Nicholas, darting eagerly forward.

'Poor dear, poor dear!' cried brother Charles 'Where is my brother Ned?
Ned, my dear brother, come here pray.'

'Brother Charles, my dear fellow,' replied his brother, hurrying into
the room, 'what is the--ah! what--'

'Hush! hush!--not a word for your life, brother Ned,' returned the
other. 'Ring for the housekeeper, my dear brother--call Tim Linkinwater!
Here, Tim Linkinwater, sir--Mr Nickleby, my dear sir, leave the room, I
beg and beseech of you.'

'I think she is better now,' said Nicholas, who had been watching the
patient so eagerly, that he had not heard the request.

'Poor bird!' cried brother Charles, gently taking her hand in his, and
laying her head upon his arm. 'Brother Ned, my dear fellow, you will be
surprised, I know, to witness this, in business hours; but--' here he
was again reminded of the presence of Nicholas, and shaking him by
the hand, earnestly requested him to leave the room, and to send Tim
Linkinwater without an instant's delay.

Nicholas immediately withdrew and, on his way to the counting-house, met
both the old housekeeper and Tim Linkinwater, jostling each other in the
passage, and hurrying to the scene of action with extraordinary speed.
Without waiting to hear his message, Tim Linkinwater darted into the
room, and presently afterwards Nicholas heard the door shut and locked
on the inside.

He had abundance of time to ruminate on this discovery, for Tim
Linkinwater was absent during the greater part of an hour, during the
whole of which time Nicholas thought of nothing but the young lady, and
her exceeding beauty, and what could possibly have brought her there,
and why they made such a mystery of it. The more he thought of all this,
the more it perplexed him, and the more anxious he became to know who
and what she was. 'I should have known her among ten thousand,' thought
Nicholas. And with that he walked up and down the room, and recalling
her face and figure (of which he had a peculiarly vivid remembrance),
discarded all other subjects of reflection and dwelt upon that alone.

At length Tim Linkinwater came back--provokingly cool, and with papers
in his hand, and a pen in his mouth, as if nothing had happened.

'Is she quite recovered?' said Nicholas, impetuously.

'Who?' returned Tim Linkinwater.

'Who!' repeated Nicholas. 'The young lady.'

'What do you make, Mr Nickleby,' said T