'I recollect getting three young milliners to sit to me, when I first began to paint, and I remember that they were all very pale and sickly.' 'Oh! that's not a general rule by any means,' observed Mrs Nickleby; 'for I remember, as well as if it was only yesterday, employing one that I was particularly recommended to, to make me a scarlet cloak at the time when scarlet cloaks were fashionable, and she had a very red face--a very red face, indeed.' 'Perhaps she drank,' suggested Miss La Creevy.
'I don't know how that may have been,' returned Mrs Nickleby: 'but I know she had a very red face, so your argument goes for nothing.' In this manner, and with like powerful reasoning, did the worthy matron meet every little objection that presented itself to the new scheme of the morning.

Happy Mrs Nickleby! A project had but to be new, and it came home to her mind, brightly varnished and gilded as a glittering toy.
This question disposed of, Kate communicated her uncle's desire about the empty house, to which Mrs Nickleby assented with equal readiness, characteristically remarking, that, on the fine evenings, it would be a pleasant amusement for her to walk to the West end to fetch her daughter home; and no less characteristically forgetting, that there were such things as wet nights and bad weather to be encountered in almost every week of the year.
'I shall be sorry--truly sorry to leave you, my kind friend,' said Kate, on whom the good feeling of the poor miniature painter had made a deep impression.
'You shall not shake me off, for all that,' replied Miss La Creevy, with as much sprightliness as she could assume.

'I shall see you very often, and come and hear how you get on; and if, in all London, or all the wide world besides, there is no other heart that takes an interest in your welfare, there will be one little lonely woman that prays for it night and day.' With this, the poor soul, who had a heart big enough for Gog, the guardian genius of London, and enough to spare for Magog to boot, after making a great many extraordinary faces which would have secured her an ample fortune, could she have transferred them to ivory or canvas, sat down in a corner, and had what she termed 'a real good cry.' But no crying, or talking, or hoping, or fearing, could keep off the dreaded Saturday afternoon, or Newman Noggs either; who, punctual to his time, limped up to the door, and breathed a whiff of cordial gin through the keyhole, exactly as such of the church clocks in the neighbourhood as agreed among themselves about the time, struck five.

Newman waited for the last stroke, and then knocked.
'From Mr Ralph Nickleby,' said Newman, announcing his errand, when he got upstairs, with all possible brevity.
'We shall be ready directly,' said Kate.

'We have not much to carry, but I fear we must have a coach.' 'I'll get one,' replied Newman.
'Indeed you shall not trouble yourself,' said Mrs Nickleby.
'I will,' said Newman.
'I can't suffer you to think of such a thing,' said Mrs Nickleby.
'You can't help it,' said Newman.
'Not help it!' 'No; I thought of it as I came along; but didn't get one, thinking you mightn't be ready.