three new boys, and dun the relations of two old ones for the balance of a small account, was fixed that very afternoon for the next day but one; and on the next day but one Mrs. Squeers got up outside the coach as it stopped to change at Greta Bridge, taking with her a small bundle containing something in a bottle and some sandwiches, and carrying besides a large white top coat to wear in the night-time; with which baggage she went her way.
Whenever such opportunities as these occurred, it was Squeers's custom to drive over to the market town every evening on pretence of urgent business, and stop till ten or eleven o'clock at a tavern he much affected. As the party was not in his way therefore, but rather afforded a means of compromise with Miss Squeers, he readily yielded his full assent thereunto, and willingly communicated to Nicholas that he was expected to take his tea in the parlour that evening at five o'clock.
To be sure Miss Squeers was in a desperate flutter as the time approached, and to be sure she was dressed out to the best advantage: with her hair—it had more than a tinge of red, and she wore it in a crop—curled in five distinct rows up to the very top of her head, and arranged dexterously over the doubtful eye; to say nothing of the blue sash which floated down her back, or the worked apron, or the long gloves, or the green gauze scarf worn over one shoulder and under the other, or any of the numerous devices which were to be as so many arrows to the heart of Nicholas. She had scarcely completed these arrangements to her entire satisfaction when the friend arrived with a whitey-brown parcel—flat and three-cornered—containing sundry small adornments which were to be put on up stairs, and which the friend put on, talking incessantly. When Miss Squeers had "done" the friend's hair, the friend "did" Miss Squeers's hair, throwing in some striking improvements in the way of ringlets down the neck; and then, when they were both touched up to their entire satisfaction, they went down stairs in full state with the long gloves on, all ready for company.
"Where's John, 'Tilda?" said Miss Squeers.
"Only gone home to clean himself," replied the friend. "He will be here by the time the tea's drawn."
"I do so palpitate," observed Miss Squeers.
"Ah! I know what it is," replied the friend.
"I have not been used to it, you know, 'Tilda," said Miss Squeers, applying her hand to the left side of her sash.
"You'll soon get the better of it, dear," rejoined the friend. While they were talking thus the hungry servant brought in the tea thingfs, and soon afterwards somebody tapped at the room door.
"There he is!" cried Miss Squeers. "Oh 'Tilda!"
"Hush!" said 'Tilda. "Hem! Say, come in."
"Come in," cried Miss Squeers faintly. And in walked Nicholas.
"Good evening," said that young gentleman, all unconscious of his conquest. "I understood from Mr. Squeers that——"
"Oh yes; it's all right," interposed Miss Squeers. "Father don't tea with us, but you won't mind that I dare say." (This was said archly.)
