‘Well, ma’am,’ said Ralph, impatiently, ‘the creditors have administered, you tell me, and there’s nothing left for you?’
‘Nothing,’ replied Mrs. Nickleby.
‘And you spent what little money you had, in coming all the way to London, to see what I could do for you?’ pursued Ralph.
‘I hoped,’ faltered Mrs. Nickleby, ‘that you might have an opportunity of doing something for your brother’s children. It was his dying wish that I should appeal to you in their behalf.’
‘I don’t know how it is,’ muttered Ralph, walking up and down the room, ‘but whenever a man dies without any property of his own, he always seems to think he has a right to dispose of other people’s. What is your daughter fit for, ma’am?’
‘Kate has been well educated,’ sobbed Mrs. Nickleby. ‘Tell your uncle, my dear, how far you went in French and extras.’
The poor girl was about to murmur something, when her uncle stopped her, very unceremoniously.
‘We must try and get you apprenticed at some boarding-school,’ said Ralph. ‘You have not been brought up too delicately for that, I hope?’
‘No, indeed, uncle,’ replied the weeping girl. ‘I will try to do anything that will gain me a home and bread.’
‘Well, well,’ said Ralph, a little softened, either by his niece’s beauty or her distress (stretch a point, and say the latter). ‘You must try it, and if the life is too hard, perhaps dressmaking or tambour-work will come lighter. Have you ever done anything, sir?’ (turning to his nephew.)