第50章

Having complimented Ralph to this effect, the gentleman rang the bell, and stared at Miss Nickleby until it was answered, when he left off to bid the man desire his mistress to come directly; after which, he began again, and left off no more until Madame Mantalini appeared.

The dressmaker was a buxom person, handsomely dressed and rather good-looking, but much older than the gentleman in the Turkish trousers, whom she had wedded some six months before. His name was originally Muntle; but it had been converted, by an easy transition, into Mantalini: the lady rightly considering that an English appellation would be of serious injury to the business. He had married on his whiskers; upon which property he had previously subsisted, in a genteel manner, for some years; and which he had recently improved, after patient cultivation by the addition of a moustache, which promised to secure him an easy independence: his share in the labours of the business being at present confined to spending the money, and occasionally, when that ran short, driving to Mr Ralph Nickleby to procure discount--at a percentage--for the customers' bills.

`My life,' said Mr Mantalini, `what a demd devil of a time you have been!'

`I didn't even know Mr Nickleby was here, my love,' said Madame Mantalini.

`Then what a doubly demd infernal rascal that footman must be, my soul,'

remonstrated Mr Mantalini.

`My dear,' said Madame, `that is entirely your fault.'

`My fault, my heart's joy?'

`Certainly,' returned the lady; `what can you expect, dearest, if you will not correct the man?'

`Correct the man, my soul's delight!'

`Yes; I am sure he wants speaking to, badly enough,' said Madame, pouting.

`Then do not vex itself,' said Mr Mantalini; `he shall be horse-whipped till he cries out demnebly.' With this promise Mr Mantalini kissed Madame Mantalini, and, after that performance, Madame Mantalini pulled Mr Mantalini playfully by the ear: which done, they descended to business.

`Now, ma'am,' said Ralph, who had looked on, at all this, with such scorn as few men can express in looks, `this is my niece.'

`Just so, Mr Nickleby,' replied Madame Mantalini, surveying Kate from head to foot, and back again. `Can you speak French, child?'

`Yes, ma'am,' replied Kate, not daring to look up; for she felt that the eyes of the odious man in the dressing-gown were directed towards her.

`Like a demd native?' asked the husband.

Miss Nickleby offered no reply to this inquiry, but turned her back upon the questioner, as if addressing herself to make answer to what his wife might demand.

`We keep twenty young women constantly employed in the establishment,'

said Madame.

`Indeed, ma'am!' replied Kate, timidly.

`Yes; and some of 'em demd handsome, too,' said the master.

`Mantalini!' exclaimed his wife, in an awful voice.

`My senses' idol!' said Mantalini.

`Do you wish to break my heart?'

`Not for twenty thousand hemispheres populated with--with--with little ballet-dancers,' replied Mantalini in a poetical strain.

`Then you will, if you persevere in that mode of speaking,' said his wife. `What can Mr Nickleby think when he hears you?'

`Oh! Nothing, ma'am, nothing,' replied Ralph. `I know his amiable nature, and yours,--mere little remarks that give a zest to your daily intercourse--lovers'

quarrels that add sweetness to those domestic joys which promise to last so long--that's all; that's all.'