she had prophesied to
that precise effect.

'And I say again,' remarked Mrs Nickleby (who, it is scarcely necessary
to observe, had never said so before), 'I say again, that a milliner's
and dressmaker's is the very last description of business, Kate, that
you should have thought of attaching yourself to. I don't make it
a reproach to you, my love; but still I will say, that if you had
consulted your own mother--'

'Well, well, mama,' said Kate, mildly: 'what would you recommend now?'

'Recommend!' cried Mrs Nickleby, 'isn't it obvious, my dear, that of all
occupations in this world for a young lady situated as you are, that
of companion to some amiable lady is the very thing for which your
education, and manners, and personal appearance, and everything else,
exactly qualify you? Did you never hear your poor dear papa speak of the
young lady who was the daughter of the old lady who boarded in the same
house that he boarded in once, when he was a bachelor--what was her name
again? I know it began with a B, and ended with g, but whether it was
Waters or--no, it couldn't have been that, either; but whatever her name
was, don't you know that that young lady went as companion to a married
lady who died soon afterwards, and that she married the husband, and had
one of the finest little boys that the medical man had ever seen--all
within eighteen months?'

Kate knew, perfectly well, that this torrent of favourable recollection
was occasioned by some opening, real or imaginary, which her mother had
discovered, in the companionship walk of life. She therefore waited,
very patiently, until all reminiscences and anecdotes, bearing or not
bearing upon the subject, had been exhausted, and at last ventured
to inquire what discovery had been made. The truth then came out. Mrs
Nickleby had, that morning, had a yesterday's newspaper of the very
first respectability from the public-house where the porter came from;
and in this yesterday's newspaper was an advertisement, couched in the
purest and most grammatical English, announcing that a married lady was
in want of a genteel young person as companion, and that the married
lady's name and address were to be known, on application at a certain
library at the west end of the town, therein mentioned.

'And I say,' exclaimed Mrs Nickleby, laying the paper down in triumph,
'that if your uncle don't object, it's well worth the trial.'

Kate was too sick at heart, after the rough jostling