rer and nearer to the house, was utterly dismayed
and cowed by the mournful silence which pervaded it. The face of the
poor servant girl, the only person they saw, was disfigured with tears
and want of sleep. There was nobody to receive or welcome them; and they
stole upstairs into the usual sitting-room, more like two burglars than
the bridegroom and his friend.

'One would think,' said Ralph, speaking, in spite of himself, in a low
and subdued voice, 'that there was a funeral going on here, and not a
wedding.'

'He, he!' tittered his friend, 'you are so--so very funny!'

'I need be,' remarked Ralph, drily, 'for this is rather dull and
chilling. Look a little brisker, man, and not so hangdog like!'

'Yes, yes, I will,' said Gride. 'But--but--you don't think she's coming
just yet, do you?'

'Why, I suppose she'll not come till she is obliged,' returned Ralph,
looking at his watch, 'and she has a good half-hour to spare yet. Curb
your impatience.'

'I--I--am not impatient,' stammered Arthur. 'I wouldn't be hard with
her for the world. Oh dear, dear, not on any account. Let her take her
time--her own time. Her time shall be ours by all means.'

While Ralph bent upon his trembling friend a keen look, which showed
that he perfectly understood the reason of this great consideration and
regard, a footstep was heard upon the stairs, and Bray himself came into
the room on tiptoe, and holding up his hand with a cautious gesture, as
if there were some sick person near, who must not be disturbed.

'Hush!' he said, in a low voice. 'She was very ill last night. I thought
she would have broken her heart. She is dressed, and crying bitterly in
her own room; but she's better, and quite quiet. That's everything!'

'She is ready, is she?' said Ralph.

'Quite ready,' returned the father.

'And not likely to delay us by any young-lady weaknesses--fainting, or
so forth?' said Ralph.

'She may be safely trusted now,' returned Bray. 'I have been talking to
her this morning. Here! Come a little this way.'

He drew Ralph Nickleby to the further end of the room, and pointed
towards Gride, who sat huddled together in a corner, fumbling nervously
with the buttons of his coat, and exhibiting a face, of which every
skulking and base expression was sharpened and aggravated to the utmost
by his anxiety and trepidation.

'Look at that man,' whispered Bray, emphatically. 'This seems a cruel
thing, after all.'

'What seems a cruel thin