rd to being a female, sir, I should wish
to know what you considered yourself?'

'A miserable wretch,' exclaimed Mr Knag, striking his forehead. 'A
miserable wretch.'

'I'm very glad to find that you don't call yourself out of your name,
sir,' said Mrs Blockson; 'and as I had two twin children the day before
yesterday was only seven weeks, and my little Charley fell down a airy
and put his elber out, last Monday, I shall take it as a favour if
you'll send nine shillings, for one week's work, to my house, afore the
clock strikes ten tomorrow.'

With these parting words, the good woman quitted the room with great
ease of manner, leaving the door wide open; Mr Knag, at the same moment,
flung himself into the 'warehouse,' and groaned aloud.

'What is the matter with that gentleman, pray?' inquired Mrs Nickleby,
greatly disturbed by the sound.

'Is he ill?' inquired Kate, really alarmed.

'Hush!' replied Miss Knag; 'a most melancholy history. He was once most
devotedly attached to--hem--to Madame Mantalini.'

'Bless me!' exclaimed Mrs Nickleby.

'Yes,' continued Miss Knag, 'and received great encouragement too,
and confidently hoped to marry her. He has a most romantic heart,
Mrs Nickleby, as indeed--hem--as indeed all our family have, and the
disappointment was a dreadful blow. He is a wonderfully accomplished
man--most extraordinarily accomplished--reads--hem--reads every novel
that comes out; I mean every novel that--hem--that has any fashion in
it, of course. The fact is, that he did find so much in the books he
read, applicable to his own misfortunes, and did find himself in every
respect so much like the heroes--because of course he is conscious of
his own superiority, as we all are, and very naturally--that he took to
scorning everything, and became a genius; and I am quite sure that he
is, at this very present moment, writing another book.'

'Another book!' repeated Kate, finding that a pause was left for
somebody to say something.

'Yes,' said Miss Knag, nodding in great triumph; 'another book, in three
volumes post octavo. Of course it's a great advantage to him, in all his
little fashionable descriptions, to have the benefit of my--hem--of my
experience, because, of course, few authors who write about such things
can have such opportunities of knowing them as I have. He's so wrapped
up in high life, that the least allusion to business or worldly
matters--like that woman just now, for instance--quite di