"He is the most attentive young man I ever saw, Kate," said Mrs. Nickleby to her daughter, one evening when this last-named gentleman had been the subject of the worthy lady's eulogium for some time, and Kate had sat perfectly silent.
"Attentive, mama!" rejoined Kate.
"Bless my heart, Kate!" cried Mrs. Nickleby, with her wonted suddenness, "what a colour you have got; why, you're quite flushed!"
"Oh, mama! what strange things you fancy."
"It wasn't fancy, Kate, my dear, I'm certain of that," returned her mother. "However, it's gone now at any rate, so it don't much matter whether it was or not. What was it we were talking about? Oh! Mr. Frank. I never saw such attention in my life, never."
"Surely you are not serious," returned Kate, colouring again; and this time beyond all dispute.
"Not serious!" returned Mrs. Nickleby; "why shouldn't I be serious? I'm sure I never was more serious. I will say that his politeness and attention to me is one of the most becoming, gratifying, pleasant things I have seen for a very long time. You don't often meet with such behaviour in young men, and it strikes one more when one does meet with it."
"Oh! attention to you, mama," rejoined Kate quickly—"oh yes."
"Dear me, Kate," retorted Mrs. Nickleby, "what an extraordinary girl you are. "Was it likely I should be talking of his attention to anybody else? I declare I'm quite sorry to think he should be in love with a German lady, that I am."
"He said very positively that it was no such thing, mama," returned Kate. "Don't you remember his saying so that very first night he came here? Besides," she added, in a more gentle tone, "why should we be sorry if it is the case? What is it to us, mama?"
"Nothing to us Kate, perhaps," said Mrs. Nickleby emphatically; "but something to me, I confess. I like English people to be thorough English people, and not half English and half I don't know what. I shall tell him point-blank next time he comes, that I wish he would, marry one of his own countrywomen; and see what he says to that."
"Pray don't think of such a thing, mama," returned Kate hastily; "not for the world. Consider—how very——."
"Well, my dear, how very what!" said Mrs. Nickleby, opening her eyes in great astonishment.
Before Kate had returned any reply, a queer little double-knock announced that Miss La Creevy had called to see them; and when Miss La Creevy presented herself, Mrs. Nickleby, though strongly disposed to be argumentative on the previous question, forgot all about it in a gush of supposes about the coach she had come by; supposing that the man who drove must have been either the man in the shirt-sleeves or the man with the black eye; that whoever he was, he hadn't found that parasol she left inside last week; that no doubt they had stopped a long while at the Halfway House, coming down; or that perhaps being full, they had come straight on; and lastly, that they surely must have passed Nicholas on the road.
