the sofa, and--and all that sort of thing:
which is very nonsensical, perhaps, but still they will do it.'

The profound astonishment with which her son regarded her during this
long address, gradually increasing as it approached its climax in no
way discomposed Mrs Nickleby, but rather exalted her opinion of her own
cleverness; therefore, merely stopping to remark, with much complacency,
that she had fully expected him to be surprised, she entered on a vast
quantity of circumstantial evidence of a particularly incoherent and
perplexing kind; the upshot of which was, to establish, beyond the
possibility of doubt, that Mr Frank Cheeryble had fallen desperately in
love with Kate.

'With whom?' cried Nicholas.

Mrs Nickleby repeated, with Kate.

'What! OUR Kate! My sister!'

'Lord, Nicholas!' returned Mrs Nickleby, 'whose Kate should it be, if
not ours; or what should I care about it, or take any interest in it
for, if it was anybody but your sister?'

'Dear mother,' said Nicholas, 'surely it can't be!'

'Very good, my dear,' replied Mrs Nickleby, with great confidence. 'Wait
and see.'

Nicholas had never, until that moment, bestowed a thought upon
the remote possibility of such an occurrence as that which was now
communicated to him; for, besides that he had been much from home of
late and closely occupied with other matters, his own jealous fears had
prompted the suspicion that some secret interest in Madeline, akin to
that which he felt himself, occasioned those visits of Frank Cheeryble
which had recently become so frequent. Even now, although he knew that
the observation of an anxious mother was much more likely to be correct
in such a case than his own, and although she reminded him of many
little circumstances which, taken together, were certainly susceptible
of the construction she triumphantly put upon them, he was not quite
convinced but that they arose from mere good-natured thoughtless
gallantry, which would have dictated the same conduct towards any
other girl who was young and pleasing. At all events, he hoped so, and
therefore tried to believe it.

'I am very much disturbed by what you tell me,' said Nicholas, after a
little reflection, 'though I yet hope you may be mistaken.'

'I don't understand why you should hope so,' said Mrs Nickleby, 'I
confess; but you may depend upon it I am not.'

'What of Kate?' inquired Nicholas.

'Why that, my dear,' returned Mrs Nickleby, 'is just the point upon