on one side, and his right hand on his breast. 'Oh, do sip
the goblet!'

'I shall not consent to do anything of the kind, sir,' said Mrs
Nickleby. 'Pray, begone.'

'Why is it,' said the old gentleman, coming up a step higher, and
leaning his elbows on the wall, with as much complacency as if he were
looking out of window, 'why is it that beauty is always obdurate,
even when admiration is as honourable and respectful as mine?' Here he
smiled, kissed his hand, and made several low bows. 'Is it owing to the
bees, who, when the honey season is over, and they are supposed to
have been killed with brimstone, in reality fly to Barbary and lull the
captive Moors to sleep with their drowsy songs? Or is it,' he added,
dropping his voice almost to a whisper, 'in consequence of the statue
at Charing Cross having been lately seen, on the Stock Exchange
at midnight, walking arm-in-arm with the Pump from Aldgate, in a
riding-habit?'

'Mama,' murmured Kate, 'do you hear him?'

'Hush, my dear!' replied Mrs Nickleby, in the same tone of voice, 'he
is very polite, and I think that was a quotation from the poets. Pray,
don't worry me so--you'll pinch my arm black and blue. Go away, sir!'

'Quite away?' said the gentleman, with a languishing look. 'Oh! quite
away?'

'Yes,' returned Mrs Nickleby, 'certainly. You have no business here.
This is private property, sir; you ought to know that.'

'I do know,' said the old gentleman, laying his finger on his nose, with
an air of familiarity, most reprehensible, 'that this is a sacred and
enchanted spot, where the most divine charms'--here he kissed his hand
and bowed again--'waft mellifluousness over the neighbours' gardens, and
force the fruit and vegetables into premature existence. That fact I am
acquainted with. But will you permit me, fairest creature, to ask
you one question, in the absence of the planet Venus, who has gone
on business to the Horse Guards, and would otherwise--jealous of your
superior charms--interpose between us?'

'Kate,' observed Mrs Nickleby, turning to her daughter, 'it's very
awkward, positively. I really don't know what to say to this gentleman.
One ought to be civil, you know.'

'Dear mama,' rejoined Kate, 'don't say a word to him, but let us run
away as fast as we can, and shut ourselves up till Nicholas comes home.'

Mrs Nickleby looked very grand, not to say contemptuous, at this
humiliating proposal; and, turning to the old gentleman, who had watched