How do you feel now, dear ?' 'Better,' sighed Miss Squeers, laying a beaver bonnet of a reddish brown with a green veil attached, on Mr Nickleby's shoulder.

'This foolish faintness!' 'Don't call it foolish, dear,' said Miss Price: her bright eye dancing with merriment as she saw the perplexity of Nicholas; 'you have no reason to be ashamed of it.

It's those who are too proud to come round again, without all this to-do, that ought to be ashamed.' 'You are resolved to fix it upon me, I see,' said Nicholas, smiling, 'although I told you, last night, it was not my fault.' 'There; he says it was not his fault, my dear,' remarked the wicked Miss Price.

'Perhaps you were too jealous, or too hasty with him?
He says it was not his fault.

You hear; I think that's apology enough.' 'You will not understand me,' said Nicholas.