File:Works (1911) (14801157493).jpg

Identifier: works04dick (find matches)
Title: Works
Year: 1911 (1910s)
Authors: Dickens, Charles, 1812-1870
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Publisher: New York Scribner
Contributing Library: Robarts - University of Toronto
Digitizing Sponsor: University of Toronto

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thedoor, heres Mr. Nickleby. A lady in deep mourning rose as Mr. Ralph Nicklebyentered, but appeared incapable of advancing to meet him,and leant upon the arm of a slight but very beautiful girlof about seventeen, who had been sitting by her. A youth,who appeared a year or two older, stepped forward andsaluted Ralph as his uncle. Oh, growled Ralph, with an ill-favoured frown, you areNicholas, I suppose. That is my name, sir, replied the youth. Put my hat down, said Ralph, imperiously. Well,maam, how do you do ? You must bear up against sorrow,maam ; / always do. Mine was no common loss ! said Mrs. Nickleby, applyingher handkerchief to her eyes. It was no «ncommon loss, maam, returned Ralph, ashe coolly unbuttoned his spencer. Husbands die every day,maam, and wives too. And brothers also, sir, said Nicholas, with a glance ofindignation. Yes, sir, and puppies, and pug-dogs likewise, replied hisuncle, taking a chair. You didnt mention in vour letterwhat my brothers complaint was, maam.
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tINCLE AND NEPHEW. 29 The doctors could attribute it to no particular disease,said Mrs. Nickleby, shedding tears. We have too muchreason to fear that he died of a broken heart. Pooh ! said Ralph, theres no such thing. I can under-stand a mans dying of a broken neck, or suffering from abroken arm, or a broken head, or a broken leg, or a brokennose; but a broken heart!—nonsense, its the cant of the day.If a man cant pay his debts, he dies of a broken heart, andhis widows a martyr. Some people, I believe, have no hearts to break, observedNicholas, quietly. How old is this boy, for Gods sake? inquired Ralph,wheeling back his chair, and surveying his nephew from headto foot with intense scorn. Nicholas is very nearly nineteen, replied the widow. Nineteen, eh! said Ralph, and what do you mean todo for your bread, sir ? Not to live upon my mother, replied Nicholas, his heartswelling as he spoke. Youd have little enough to live upon, if you did, retortedthe uncle, eyeing him contemptuously.

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