`Nobody you know,' said Ralph. `Step into the office, my -- my -- dear. I'll be with you directly.'

`Nobody I know!' cried Sir Mulberry Hawk, advancing to the astonished lady. `Is this Mrs Nickleby -- the mother of Miss Nickleby -- the delightful creature that I had the happiness of meeting in this house the very last time I dined here? But no;' said Sir Mulberry, stopping short. `No, it can't be. There is the same cast of features, the same indescribable air of -- But no; no. This lady is too young for that.'

`I think you can tell the gentleman, brother-in-law, if it concerns him to know,' said Mrs Nickleby, acknowledging the compliment with a graceful bend, `that Kate Nickleby is my daughter.'

`Her daughter, my lord!' cried Sir Mulberry, turning to his friend. `This lady's daughter, my lord.'

`My lord!' thought Mrs Nickleby. `Well, I never did--'

`This, then, my lord,' said Sir Mulberry, `is the lady to whose obliging marriage we owe so much happiness. This lady is the mother of sweet Miss Nickleby. Do you observe the extraordinary likeness, my lord? Nickleby -- introduce us.'

Ralph did so, in a kind of desperation.

`Upon my soul, it's a most delightful thing," said Lord Frederick, pressing forward. `How de do?'

Mrs Nickleby was too much flurried by these uncommonly kind salutations, and her regrets at not having on her other bonnet, to make any immediate reply, so she merely continued to bend and smile, and betray great agitation.

`A--and how is Miss Nickleby?' said Lord Frederick. `Well, I hope?'

`She is quite well, I'm obliged to you, my lord,' returned Mrs Nickleby, recovering. `Quite well. She wasn't well for some days after that day she dined here, and I can't help thinking, that she caught cold in that hackney coach coming home. Hackney coaches, my lord, are such nasty things, that it's almost better to walk at any time, for although I believe a hackney coachman can be transported for life, if he has a broken window, still they are so reckless, that they nearly all have broken windows. I once had a swelled face for six weeks, my lord, from riding in a hackney coach -- I think it was a hackney coach,' said Mrs Nickleby reflecting, `though I'm not quite certain whether it wasn't a chariot; at all events I know it was a dark green, with a very long number, beginning with a nought and ending with a nine -- no, beginning with a nine, and ending with a nought, that was it, and of course the stamp-office people would know at once whether it was a coach or a chariot if any inquiries were made there -- however that was, there it was with a broken window and there was I for six weeks with a swelled face -- I think that was the very same hackney coach, that we found out afterwards, had the top open all the time, and we should never even have known it, if they hadn't charged us a shilling an hour extra for having it open, which it seems is the law, or was then, and a most shameful law it appears to be -- I don't understand the subject, but I should say the Corn Laws could be nothing to that act of Parliament.'

Having pretty well run herself out by this time, Mrs Nickleby stopped as suddenly as she had started off; and repeated that Kate was quite well. `Indeed,' said Mrs Nickleby, `I don't think she ever was better, since she had the hooping-cough, scarlet-fever, and measles, all at the same time, and that's the fact.'

`Is that letter for me?' growled Ralph, pointing to the little packet Mrs Nickleby held in her hand.

`For you, brother-in-law,' replied Mrs Nickleby, `and I walked all the way up here on purpose to give it you.'

`All the way up here!' cried Sir Mulberry, seizing upon the chance of discovering where Mrs Nickleby had come from. `What a confounded distance! How far do you call it now?'

`How far do I call it?' said Mrs Nickleby. `Let me see. It's just a mile from our door to the Old Bailey.'