t I tell
them. I will address your mother, sir, who knows the world.'

'Ah! and I only too dearly wish I didn't,' sobbed Mrs Nickleby.

There really was no necessity for the good lady to be much distressed
upon this particular head; the extent of her worldly knowledge being, to
say the least, very questionable; and so Ralph seemed to think, for he
smiled as she spoke. He then glanced steadily at her and Nicholas by
turns, as he delivered himself in these words:

'Of what I have done, or what I meant to do, for you, ma'am, and my
niece, I say not one syllable. I held out no promise, and leave you to
judge for yourself. I hold out no threat now, but I say that this boy,
headstrong, wilful and disorderly as he is, should not have one penny of
my money, or one crust of my bread, or one grasp of my hand, to save him
from the loftiest gallows in all Europe. I will not meet him, come where
he comes, or hear his name. I will not help him, or those who help him.
With a full knowledge of what he brought upon you by so doing, he has
come back in his selfish sloth, to be an aggravation of your wants, and
a burden upon his sister's scanty wages. I regret to leave you, and more
to leave her, now, but I will not encourage this compound of meanness
and cruelty, and, as I will not ask you to renounce him, I see you no
more.'

If Ralph had not known and felt his power in wounding those he hated,
his glances at Nicholas would have shown it him, in all its force, as
he proceeded in the above address. Innocent as the young man was of all
wrong, every artful insinuation stung, every well-considered sarcasm cut
him to the quick; and when Ralph noted his pale face and quivering
lip, he hugged himself to mark how well he had chosen the taunts best
calculated to strike deep into a young and ardent spirit.

'I can't help it,' cried Mrs Nickleby. 'I know you have been very good
to us, and meant to do a good deal for my dear daughter. I am quite sure
of that; I know you did, and it was very kind of you, having her at your
house and all--and of course it would have been a great thing for her
and for me too. But I can't, you know, brother-in-law, I can't renounce
my own son, even if he has done all you say he has--it's not possible;
I couldn't do it; so we must go to rack and ruin, Kate, my dear. I can
bear it, I dare say.' Pouring forth these and a perfectly wonderful
train of other disjointed expressions of regret, which no mortal power
but Mr