'After we left here last night John and I had a dreadful quarrel.' 'That doesn't please me,' said Miss Squeers--relaxing into a smile though.
'Lor! I wouldn't think so bad of you as to suppose it did,' rejoined her companion.

'That's not it.' 'Oh!' said Miss Squeers, relapsing into melancholy.

'Go on.' 'After a great deal of wrangling, and saying we would never see each other any more,' continued Miss Price, 'we made it up, and this morning John went and wrote our names down to be put up, for the first time, next Sunday, so we shall be married in three weeks, and I give you notice to get your frock made.' There was mingled gall and honey in this intelligence.

The prospect of the friend's being married so soon was the gall, and the certainty of her not entertaining serious designs upon Nicholas was the honey.

Upon the whole, the sweet greatly preponderated over the bitter, so Miss Squeers said she would get the frock made, and that she hoped 'Tilda might be happy, though at the same time she didn't know, and would not have her build too much upon it, for men were strange creatures, and a great many married women were very miserable, and wished themselves single again with all their hearts; to which condolences Miss Squeers added others equally calculated to raise her friend's spirits and promote her cheerfulness of mind.
'But come now, Fanny,' said Miss Price, 'I want to have a word or two with you about young Mr Nickleby.' 'He is nothing to me,' interrupted Miss Squeers, with hysterical symptoms.