remained single, should pass away altogether to
another branch of the family. The brother would give no consent that the
sister didn't buy, and pay for handsomely; Mr Nickleby would consent to
no such sacrifice; and so they went on, keeping their marriage secret,
and waiting for him to break his neck or die of a fever. He did neither,
and meanwhile the result of this private marriage was a son. The child
was put out to nurse, a long way off; his mother never saw him but once
or twice, and then by stealth; and his father--so eagerly did he thirst
after the money which seemed to come almost within his grasp now,
for his brother-in-law was very ill, and breaking more and more every
day--never went near him, to avoid raising any suspicion. The brother
lingered on; Mr Nickleby's wife constantly urged him to avow their
marriage; he peremptorily refused. She remained alone in a dull country
house: seeing little or no company but riotous, drunken sportsmen.
He lived in London and clung to his business. Angry quarrels and
recriminations took place, and when they had been married nearly seven
years, and were within a few weeks of the time when the brother's death
would have adjusted all, she eloped with a younger man, and left him.'

Here he paused, but Ralph did not stir, and the brothers signed to him
to proceed.

'It was then that I became acquainted with these circumstances from his
own lips. They were no secrets then; for the brother, and others, knew
them; but they were communicated to me, not on this account, but because
I was wanted. He followed the fugitives. Some said to make money of his
wife's shame, but, I believe, to take some violent revenge, for that was
as much his character as the other; perhaps more. He didn't find them,
and she died not long after. I don't know whether he began to think he
might like the child, or whether he wished to make sure that it should
never fall into its mother's hands; but, before he went, he intrusted me
with the charge of bringing it home. And I did so.'

He went on, from this point, in a still more humble tone, and spoke in a
very low voice; pointing to Ralph as he resumed.

'He had used me ill--cruelly--I reminded him in what, not long ago when
I met him in the street--and I hated him. I brought the child home to
his own house, and lodged him in the front garret. Neglect had made him
very sickly, and I was obliged to call in a doctor, who said he must be
removed for change of