keep 'em in suspense as long as you said you would, though,'
returned Tim, archly. 'Why, Mr Nickleby and Mr Frank were to have
been in your room for I don't know how long; and I don't know what you
weren't to have told them before you came out with the truth.'

'Now, did you ever know such a villain as this, Ned?' said the old
gentleman; 'did you ever know such a villain as Tim Linkinwater?
He accusing me of being impatient, and he the very man who has been
wearying us morning, noon, and night, and torturing us for leave to go
and tell 'em what was in store, before our plans were half complete, or
we had arranged a single thing. A treacherous dog!'

'So he is, brother Charles,' returned Ned; 'Tim is a treacherous dog.
Tim is not to be trusted. Tim is a wild young fellow. He wants gravity
and steadiness; he must sow his wild oats, and then perhaps he'll become
in time a respectable member of society.'

This being one of the standing jokes between the old fellows and Tim,
they all three laughed very heartily, and might have laughed much
longer, but that the brothers, seeing that Mrs Nickleby was labouring to
express her feelings, and was really overwhelmed by the happiness of the
time, took her between them, and led her from the room under pretence of
having to consult her on some most important arrangements.

Now, Tim and Miss La Creevy had met very often, and had always been
very chatty and pleasant together--had always been great friends--and
consequently it was the most natural thing in the world that Tim,
finding that she still sobbed, should endeavour to console her. As Miss
La Creevy sat on a large old-fashioned window-seat, where there was
ample room for two, it was also natural that Tim should sit down beside
her; and as to Tim's being unusually spruce and particular in his attire
that day, why it was a high festival and a great occasion, and that was
the most natural thing of all.

Tim sat down beside Miss La Creevy, and, crossing one leg over the other
so that his foot--he had very comely feet and happened to be wearing
the neatest shoes and black silk stockings possible--should come easily
within the range of her eye, said in a soothing way:

'Don't cry!'

'I must,' rejoined Miss La Creevy.

'No, don't,' said Tim. 'Please don't; pray don't.'

'I am so happy!' sobbed the little woman.

'Then laugh,' said Tim. 'Do laugh.'

What in the world Tim was doing with his arm, it is impossible to
conjecture,