第174章
- NICHOLAS NICKLEBY
- Charles Dickens
- 831字
- 2016-03-02 16:33:47
`I do not consider yours, my soul!' exclaimed Mr Mantalini.
`No,' replied his wife.
And notwithstanding various blandishments on the part of Mr Mantalini, Madame Mantalini still said no, and said it too with such determined and resolute ill-temper, that Mr Mantalini was clearly taken aback.
`His extravagance, Mr Nickleby,' said Madame Mantalini, addressing herself to Ralph, who leant against his easy-chair with his hands behind him, and regarded the amiable couple with a smile of the supremest and most unmitigated contempt,--`his extravagance is beyond all bounds.'
`I should scarcely have supposed it,' answered Ralph, sarcastically.
`I assure you, Mr Nickleby, however, that it is,' returned Madame Mantalini.
`It makes me miserable! I am under constant apprehensions, and in constant difficulty. And even this,' said Madame Mantalini, wiping her eyes, `is not the worst. He took some papers of value out of my desk this morning without asking my permission.'
Mr Mantalini groaned slightly, and buttoned his trousers pocket.
`I am obliged,' continued Madame Mantalini, `since our late misfortunes, to pay Miss Knag a great deal of money for having her name in the business, and I really cannot afford to encourage him in all his wastefulness. As I have no doubt that he came straight here, Mr Nickleby, to convert the papers I have spoken of, into money, and as you have assisted us very often before, and are very much connected with us in this kind of matters, Iwish you to know the determination at which his conduct has compelled me to arrive.'
Mr Mantalini groaned once more from behind his wife's bonnet, and fitting a sovereign into one of his eyes, winked with the other at Ralph. Having achieved this performance with great dexterity, he whipped the coin into his pocket, and groaned again with increased penitence.
`I have made up my mind,' said Madame Mantalini, as tokens of impatience manifested themselves in Ralph's countenance, `to allowance him.'
`To do that, my joy?' inquired Mr Mantalini, who did not seem to have caught the words.
`To put him,' said Madame Mantalini, looking at Ralph, and prudently abstaining from the slightest glance at her husband, lest his many graces should induce her to falter in her resolution, `to put him upon a fixed allowance; and I say that if he has a hundred and twenty pounds a year for his clothes and pocket-money, he may consider himself a very fortunate man.'
Mr Mantalini waited, with much decorum, to hear the amount of the proposed stipend, but when it reached his ears, he cast his hat and cane upon the floor, and drawing out his pocket-handkerchief, gave vent to his feelings in a dismal moan.
`Demnition!' cried Mr Mantalini, suddenly skipping out of his chair, and as suddenly skipping into it again, to the great discomposure of his lady's nerves. `But no. It is a demd horrid dream. It is not reality. No!'
Comforting himself with this assurance, Mr Mantalini closed his eyes and waited patiently till such time as he should wake up.
`A very judicious arrangement,' observed Ralph with a sneer, `if your husband will keep within it, ma'am--as no doubt he will.'
`Demmit!' exclaimed Mr Mantalini, opening his eyes at the sound of Ralph's voice, `it is a horrid reality. She is sitting there before me. There is the graceful outline of her form; it cannot be mistaken--there is nothing like it. The two countesses had no outlines at all, and the dowager's was a demd outline. Why is she so excruciatingly beautiful that I cannot be angry with her, even now?'
`You have brought it upon yourself, Alfred,' returned Madame Mantalini--still reproachfully, but in a softened tone.
`I am a demd villain!' cried Mr Mantalini, smiting himself on the head.
`I will fill my pockets with change for a sovereign in halfpence and drown myself in the Thames; but I will not be angry with her, even then, for I will put a note in the twopenny-post as I go along, to tell her where the body is. She will be a lovely widow. I shall be a body. Some handsome women will cry; she will laugh demnebly.'
`Alfred, you cruel, cruel creature,' said Madame Mantalini, sobbing at the dreadful picture.
`She calls me cruel--me--me--who for her sake will become a demd, damp, moist, unpleasant body!' exclaimed Mr Mantalini.
`You know it almost breaks my heart, even to hear you talk of such a thing,' replied Madame Mantalini.
`Can I live to be mistrusted?' cried her husband. `Have I cut my heart into a demd extraordinary number of little pieces, and given them all away, one after another, to the same little engrossing demnition captivater, and can I live to be suspected by her? Demmit, no I can't.'
`Ask Mr Nickleby whether the sum I have mentioned is not a proper one,'
reasoned Madame Mantalini.
`I don't want any sum,' replied her disconsolate husband; `I shall require no demd allowance. I will be a body.'