Nicholas starts for Yorkshire. Of his Leave-taking and his
Fellow-Travellers, and what befell them on the Road


If tears dropped into a trunk were charms to preserve its owner from
sorrow and misfortune, Nicholas Nickleby would have commenced his
expedition under most happy auspices. There was so much to be done, and
so little time to do it in; so many kind words to be spoken, and such
bitter pain in the hearts in which they rose to impede their utterance;
that the little preparations for his journey were made mournfully
indeed. A hundred things which the anxious care of his mother and sister
deemed indispensable for his comfort, Nicholas insisted on leaving
behind, as they might prove of some after use, or might be convertible
into money if occasion required. A hundred affectionate contests on
such points as these, took place on the sad night which preceded his
departure; and, as the termination of every angerless dispute brought
them nearer and nearer to the close of their slight preparations, Kate
grew busier and busier, and wept more silently.

The box was packed at last, and then there came supper, with some little
delicacy provided for the occasion, and as a set-off against the expense
of which, Kate and her mother had feigned to dine when Nicholas was out.
The poor lady nearly choked himself by attempting to partake of it,
and almost suffocated himself in affecting a jest or two, and forcing a
melancholy laugh. Thus, they lingered on till the hour of separating
for the night was long past; and then they found that they might as
well have given vent to their real feelings before, for they could not
suppress them, do what they would. So, they let them have their way, and
even that was a relief.