`Speculate with it,' said Mrs Nickleby.

`Spec--u--late, my dear?' said Mr Nickleby, as though in doubt.

`Why not?' asked Mrs Nickleby.

`Because, my dear, if we should lose it,' rejoined Mr Nickleby, who was a slow and time-taking speaker, `if we should lose it, we shall no longer be able to live, my dear.'

`Fiddle,' said Mrs Nickleby.

`I am not altogether sure of that, my dear,' said Mr Nickleby.

`There's Nicholas,' pursued the lady, `quite a young man--it's time he was in the way of doing something for himself; and Kate too, poor girl, without a penny in the world. Think of your brother! Would he be what he is, if he hadn't speculated?'

`That's true,' replied Mr Nickleby. `Very good, my dear. Yes. I will speculate, my dear.'

Speculation is a round game; the players see little or nothing of their cards at first starting; gains may be great--and so may losses. The run of luck went against Mr Nickleby. A mania prevailed, a bubble burst, four stock-brokers took villa residences at Florence, four hundred nobodies were ruined, and among them Mr Nickleby.

`The very house I live in,' sighed the poor gentleman, `may be taken from me tomorrow. Not an article of my old furniture, but will be sold to strangers!'

The last reflection hurt him so much, that he took at once to his bed; apparently resolved to keep that, at all events.

`Cheer up, sir!' said the apothecary.

`You mustn't let yourself be cast down, sir,' said the nurse.

`Such things happen every day,' remarked the lawyer.

`And it is very sinful to rebel against them,' whispered the clergyman.

`And what no man with a family ought to do,' added the neighbours.

Mr Nickleby shook his head, and motioning them all out of the room, embraced his wife and children, and having pressed them by turns to his languidly beating heart, sunk exhausted on his pillow. They were concerned to find that his reason went astray after this; for he babbled, for a long time, about the generosity and goodness of his brother, and the merry old times when they were at school together. This fit of wandering past, he solemnly commended them to One who never deserted the widow or her fatherless children, and, smiling gently on them, turned upon his face, and observed, that he thought he could fall asleep.


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