Here Miss Knag paused to take breath, and while she pauses it may be observed--not that she was marvellously loquacious and marvellously deferential to Madame Mantalini, since these are facts which require no comment; but that every now and then, she was accustomed, in the torrent of her discourse, to introduce a loud, shrill, clear `hem!' the import and meaning of which, was variously interpreted by her acquaintance; some holding that Miss Knag dealt in exaggeration, and introduced the monosyllable when any fresh invention was in course of coinage in her brain; others, that when she wanted a word, she threw it in to gain time, and prevent anybody else from striking into the conversation. It may be further remarked, that Miss Knag still aimed at youth, although she had shot beyond it, years ago; and that she was weak and vain, and one of those people who are best described by the axiom, that you may trust them as far as you can see them, and no farther.
`You'll take care that Miss Nickleby understands her hours, and so forth,'
said Madame Mantalini; `and so I'll leave her with you. You'll not forget my directions, Miss Knag?'
Miss Knag of course replied, that to forget anything Madame Mantalini had directed, was a moral impossibility; and that lady, dispensing a general good-morning among her assistants, sailed away.
`Charming creature, isn't she, Miss Nickleby?' said Miss Knag, rubbing her hands together.
`I have seen very little of her,' said Kate. `I hardly know yet.'
`Have you seen Mr Mantalini?' inquired Miss Knag.
`Yes; I have seen him twice.'
`Isn't be a charming creature?'
`Indeed he does not strike me as being so, by any means,' replied Kate.
`No, my dear!' cried Miss Knag, elevating her hands. `Why, goodness gracious mercy, where's your taste? Such a fine tall, full-whiskered dashing gentlemanly man, with such teeth and hair, and--hem--well now, you do astonish me.'
`I dare say I am very foolish,' replied Kate, laying aside her bonnet;`but as my opinion is of very little importance to him or anyone else, I do not regret having formed it, and shall be slow to change it, I think.'
`He is a very fine man, don't you think so?' asked one of the young ladies.
`Indeed he may be, for anything I could say to the contrary,' replied Kate.
`And drives very beautiful horses, doesn't he?' inquired another.
`I dare say he may, but I never saw them,' answered Kate.
`Never saw them!' interposed Miss Knag. `Oh, well! There it is at once you know; how can you possibly pronounce an opinion about a gentleman--hem--if you don't see him as he turns out altogether?'
There was so much of the world--even of the little world of the country girl--in this idea of the old milliner, that Kate, who was anxious, for every reason, to change the subject, made no further remark, and left Miss Knag in possession of the field.
After a short silence, during which most of the young people made a closer inspection of Kate's appearance, and compared notes respecting it, one of them offered to help her off with her shawl, and the offer being accepted, inquired whether she did not find black very uncomfortable wear.
`I do indeed,' replied Kate, with a bitter sigh.
`So dusty and hot,' observed the same speaker, adjusting her dress for her.
Kate might have said, that mourning is sometimes the coldest wear which mortals can assume; that it not only chills the breasts of those it clothes, but extending its influence to summer friends, freezes up their sources of good-will and kindness, and withering all the buds of promise they once so liberally put forth, leaves nothing but bared and rotten hearts exposed.
There are few who have lost a friend or relative constituting in life their sole dependence, who have not keenly felt this chilling influence of their sable garb. She had felt it acutely, and feeling it at the moment, could not quite restrain her tears.
`I am very sorry to have wounded you by my thoughtless speech,' said her companion. `I did not think of it. You are in mourning for some near relation?'
`For my father,' answered Kate.
`For what relation, Miss Simmonds?' asked Miss Knag, in an audible voice.
`Her father,' replied the other softly.
`Her father, eh?' said Miss Knag, without the slightest depression of her voice. `Ah! A long illness, Miss Simmonds?'
`Hush,' replied the girl; `I don't know.'
