she had already had
with the world, and really cared too little at the moment what fate was
reserved for her, to make any objection. Mr Ralph Nickleby offered none,
but, on the contrary, highly approved of the suggestion; neither did he
express any great surprise at Madame Mantalini's sudden failure, indeed
it would have been strange if he had, inasmuch as it had been procured
and brought about chiefly by himself. So, the name and address were
obtained without loss of time, and Miss Nickleby and her mama went off
in quest of Mrs Wititterly, of Cadogan Place, Sloane Street, that same
forenoon.

Cadogan Place is the one slight bond that joins two great extremes; it
is the connecting link between the aristocratic pavements of Belgrave
Square, and the barbarism of Chelsea. It is in Sloane Street, but not of
it. The people in Cadogan Place look down upon Sloane Street, and think
Brompton low. They affect fashion too, and wonder where the New Road
is. Not that they claim to be on precisely the same footing as the high
folks of Belgrave Square and Grosvenor Place, but that they stand, with
reference to them, rather in the light of those illegitimate children of
the great who are content to boast of their connections, although their
connections disavow them. Wearing as much as they can of the airs
and semblances of loftiest rank, the people of Cadogan Place have the
realities of middle station. It is the conductor which communicates to
the inhabitants of regions beyond its limit, the shock of pride of
birth and rank, which it has not within itself, but derives from a
fountain-head beyond; or, like the ligament which unites the Siamese
twins, it contains something of the life and essence of two distinct
bodies, and yet belongs to neither.

Upon this doubtful ground, lived Mrs Wititterly, and at Mrs Wititterly's
door Kate Nickleby knocked with trembling hand. The door was opened by
a big footman with his head floured, or chalked, or painted in some way
(it didn't look genuine powder), and the big footman, receiving the card
of introduction, gave it to a little page; so little, indeed, that his
body would not hold, in ordinary array, the number of small buttons
which are indispensable to a page's costume, and they were consequently
obliged to be stuck on four abreast. This young gentleman took the card
upstairs on a salver, and pending his return, Kate and her mother were
shown into a dining-room of rather dirty and shabby aspect