g and touching
his hat. 'Has he been making love to either of you?'

'Yes,' said Kate.

'Ah!' rejoined the man, taking his handkerchief out of his hat and
wiping his face, 'he always will, you know. Nothing will prevent his
making love.'

'I need not ask you if he is out of his mind, poor creature,' said Kate.

'Why no,' replied the man, looking into his hat, throwing his
handkerchief in at one dab, and putting it on again. 'That's pretty
plain, that is.'

'Has he been long so?' asked Kate.

'A long while.'

'And is there no hope for him?' said Kate, compassionately

'Not a bit, and don't deserve to be,' replied the keeper. 'He's a deal
pleasanter without his senses than with 'em. He was the cruellest,
wickedest, out-and-outerest old flint that ever drawed breath.'

'Indeed!' said Kate.

'By George!' replied the keeper, shaking his head so emphatically that
he was obliged to frown to keep his hat on. 'I never come across such a
vagabond, and my mate says the same. Broke his poor wife's heart, turned
his daughters out of doors, drove his sons into the streets; it was a
blessing he went mad at last, through evil tempers, and covetousness,
and selfishness, and guzzling, and drinking, or he'd have drove many
others so. Hope for HIM, an old rip! There isn't too much hope going'
but I'll bet a crown that what there is, is saved for more deserving
chaps than him, anyhow.'

With which confession of his faith, the keeper shook his head again, as
much as to say that nothing short of this would do, if things were to
go on at all; and touching his hat sulkily--not that he was in an ill
humour, but that his subject ruffled him--descended the ladder, and took
it away.

During this conversation, Mrs Nickleby had regarded the man with a
severe and steadfast look. She now heaved a profound sigh, and pursing
up her lips, shook her head in a slow and doubtful manner.

'Poor creature!' said Kate.

'Ah! poor indeed!' rejoined Mrs Nickleby. 'It's shameful that such
things should be allowed. Shameful!'

'How can they be helped, mama?' said Kate, mournfully. 'The infirmities
of nature--'

'Nature!' said Mrs Nickleby. 'What! Do YOU suppose this poor gentleman
is out of his mind?'

'Can anybody who sees him entertain any other opinion, mama?'

'Why then, I just tell you this, Kate,' returned Mrs Nickleby, 'that, he
is nothing of the kind, and I am surprised you can be so imposed
upon. It's some plot of these people to po