“Bad thing for a young man to lose his father.  Widowed mother, perhaps?”

Nicholas nodded.

“Brothers and sisters, too, eh?”

“One sister.”

“Poor thing, poor thing!  You’re a scholar too, I dare say.  Education’s a great thing.  I never had any.  I admire it the more in others.  A very fine thing.  Tell me more of your history, all of it.  No impertinent curiosity—­no, no!”

There was something so earnest and guileless in the way this was said that Nicholas could not resist it.  So he told his story, and, at the end, the old gentleman carried him straight off to the City, where they emerged in a quiet, shady square.  The old gentleman led the way into some business premises, which had the inscription, “Cheeryble Brothers,” on the doorpost, and stopped to speak to an elderly, large-faced clerk in the counting-house.

“Is my brother in his room, Tim?” said Mr. Cheeryble.

“Yes, he is, sir,” said the clerk.

What was the amazement of Nicholas when his conductor took him into a room and presented him to another old gentleman, the very type and model of himself—­the same face and figure, the same clothes.  Nobody could have doubted their being twin brothers.

“Brother Ned,” said Nicholas’s friend, “here is a young friend of mine that we must assist.”  Then brother Charles related what Nicholas had told him.  And, after that, and some conversation between the brothers, Tim Linkinwater was called in, and brother Ned whispered a few words in his ear.

“Tim,” said brother Charles, “you understand that we have an intention of taking this young gentleman into the counting-house.”

Brother Ned remarked that Tim quite approved of it, and Tim, having nodded, said, with resolution, “But I’m not coming an hour later in the morning, you know.  I’m not going to the country either.  It’s forty-four years since I first kept the books of Cheeryble Brothers.  I’ve opened the safe all that time every morning at nine, and I’ve never slept out of the back attic one single night.  This ain’t the first time you’ve talked about superannuating me, Mr. Edwin and Mr. Charles; but, if you please, we’ll make it the last, and drop the subject for evermore.”

With which words Tim Linkinwater stalked out, with the air of a man who was thoroughly resolved not to be put down.

The brothers coughed.

“He must be done something with, brother Ned.  We must, disregard his scruples; he must be made a partner.”

“Quite right, quite right, brother Charles.  If he won’t listen to reason, we must do it against his will.  But, in the meantime, we are keeping our young friend, and the poor lady and her daughter will be anxious for his return.  So let us say good-bye for the present.”  And at that the brothers hurried Nicholas out of the office, shaking hands with him all the way.

That was the beginning of brighter days for Nicholas and for Mrs. Nickleby and Kate.  The brothers Cheeryble not only took Nicholas into their office, but a small cottage at Bow, then quite out in the country, was found for the widow and her children.