Chapter 41

CHAPTER 41

Containing some Romantic Passages between Mrs Nickleby and the
Gentleman in the Small-clothes next Door

Ever since her last momentous conversation with her son, Mrs
Nickleby had begun to display unusual care in the adornment of her
person, gradually superadding to those staid and matronly
habiliments, which had, up to that time, formed her ordinary attire,
a variety of embellishments and decorations, slight perhaps in
themselves, but, taken together, and considered with reference to
the subject of her disclosure, of no mean importance. Even her
black dress assumed something of a deadly-lively air from the jaunty
style in which it was worn; and, eked out as its lingering
attractions were; by a prudent disposal, here and there, of certain
juvenile ornaments of little or no value, which had, for that reason
alone, escaped the general wreck and been permitted to slumber
peacefully in odd corners of old drawers and boxes where daylight
seldom shone, her mourning garments assumed quite a new character.
From being the outward tokens of respect and sorrow for the dead,
they became converted into signals of very slaughterous and killing
designs upon the living.

Mrs Nickleby might have been stimulated to this proceeding by a
lofty sense of duty, and impulses of unquestionable excellence. She
might, by this time, have become impressed with the sinfulness of
long indulgence in unavailing woe, or the necessity of setting a
proper example of neatness and decorum to her blooming daughter.
Considerations of duty and responsibility apart, the change might
have taken its rise in feelings of the purest and most disinterested
charity. The gentleman next door had been vilified by Nicholas;
rudely stigmatised as a dotard and an idiot; and for these attacks
upon his understanding, Mrs Nickleby was, in some sort, accountable.
She might have felt that it was the act of a good Christian to show
by all means in her power, that the abused gentleman was neither the
one nor the other. And what better means could she adopt, towards
so virtuous and laudable an end, than proving to all men, in her own
person, that his passion was the most rational and reasonable in the
world, and just the very result, of all others, which discreet and
thinking persons might have foreseen, from her incautiously
displaying her matured charms, without reserve, under the very eye,
as it were, of an ardent and too-susceptible man?

'Ah!' said Mrs Nickleby, gravely shaking her head; 'if Nicholas knew
what his poor dear papa suffered before we were engaged, when I used
to hate him, he would have a little more feeling. Shall I ever
forget the morning I looked scornfully at him when he offered to
carry my parasol? Or