principal beauties at some length, took her friend up stairs to make inspection thereof. The treasures of two drawers and a closet having been displayed, and all the smaller articles tried on, it was time for Miss Price to return home, and as she had been in raptures with all the frocks, and had been stricken quite dumb with admiration of a new pink scarf. Miss Squeers said in high good humour, that she would walk part of the way with her for the pleasure of her company; and off they went together. Miss Squeers dilating, as they walked along, upon her father's accomplishments, and multiplying his income by ten, to give her friend some faint notion of the vast importance and superiority of her family.
It happened that that particular time, comprising the short daily interval which was suffered to elapse between what was pleasantly called the dinner of Mr. Squeers's pupils and their return to the pursuit of useful knowledge, was precisely the hour when Nicholas was accustomed to issue forth for a melancholy walk, and to brood, as he sauntered listlessly through the village, upon his miserable lot. Miss Squeers knew this perfectly well, but had perhaps forgotten it, for when she caught sight of that young gentleman advancing towards them, she evinced many symptoms of surprise and consternation, and assured her friend that she "felt fit to drop into the earth."
"Shall we turn back, or run into a cottage?" asked Miss Price. "He don't see us yet."
"No, 'Tilda," replied Miss Squeers, "it is my duty to go through with it, and I will."
As Miss Squeers said this in the tone of one who has made a high moral resolution, and was besides taken with one or two chokes and catchings of breath, indicative of feelings at a high pressure, her friend made no farther remark, and they bore straight down upon Nicholas, who, walking with his eyes bent upon the ground, was not aware of their approach until they were close upon him; otherwise he might perhaps have taken shelter himself.
"Good morning," said Nicholas, bowing and passing by.
"He is going," murmured Miss Squeers. "I shall choke, 'Tilda."
"Come back, Mr. Nickleby, do," cried Miss Price, affecting alarm at her friend's threat, but really actuated by a malicious wish to hear what Nicholas would say; "come back, Mr. Nickleby."
Mr. Nickleby came back, and looked as confused as might be, as he inquired whether the ladies had any commands for him.
"Don't stop to talk," urged Miss Price, hastily; "but support her on the other side. How do you feel now, dear?"
"Better," sighed Miss Squeers, laying a beaver bonnet of reddish brown with a green veil attached, on Mr. Nickleby's shoulder. "This foolish faintness!"
"Don't call it foolish, dear," said Miss Price, her bright eye dancing with merriment as she saw the perplexity of Nicholas; "you have no reason to be ashamed of it. It's those who are too proud to come round again without all this to-do, that ought to be ashamed."
"You are resolved to fix it upon me, I see," said Nicholas, smiling, "although I told you last night it was not my fault."
