‘Yes, it is,’ said Squeers, answering a nod of Ralph’s head with a nod of his own.
‘Good,’ rejoined Ralph. ‘Let me have two words with you.’
The two words were had apart; in a couple of minutes Mr. Wackford Squeers announced that Mr. Nicholas Nickleby was, from that moment, thoroughly nominated to, and installed in, the office of first assistant master at Dotheboys Hall.
‘Your uncle’s recommendation has done it, Mr. Nickleby,’ said Wackford Squeers.
Nicholas, overjoyed at his success, shook his uncle’s hand warmly, and could almost have worshipped Squeers upon the spot.
‘He is an odd-looking man,’ thought Nicholas. ‘What of that? Porson was an odd-looking man, and so was Doctor Johnson; all these bookworms are.’
‘At eight o’clock tomorrow morning, Mr. Nickleby,’ said Squeers, ‘the coach starts. You must be here at a quarter before, as we take these boys with us.’
‘Certainly, sir,’ said Nicholas.
‘And your fare down, I have paid,’ growled Ralph. ‘So, you’ll have nothing to do but keep yourself warm.’
Here was another instance of his uncle’s generosity! Nicholas felt his unexpected kindness so much, that he could scarcely find words to thank him; indeed, he had not found half enough, when they took leave of the schoolmaster, and emerged from the Saracen’s Head gateway.