Kit himself, being always flattered by the sensation he produced, would
often burst into a loud roar, and stand with his mouth wide open, and
his eyes nearly shut, laughing violently.
Twice every week Nell gave the lad a writing lesson, to the great mirth
and enjoyment of them both, and each time Kit tucked up his sleeves,
squared his elbows, and put his face very close to the copy-book,
squinting horribly at the lines, fairly wallowing in blots, and daubing
himself with ink up to the roots of his hair,--and if he did by accident
form a letter properly, he immediately smeared it out again with his
arm--and at every fresh mistake there was a fresh burst of merriment
from the child and from poor Kit himself.
But of such happy times sweet Nell had few, and she became more anxious
about her grandfather's health, as he became daily more worried over the
secret which he would not share with her, and which preyed upon his mind
and body with increasing ravages.
Fortune did not favor his ventures, and Quilp, having discovered for
what purpose he borrowed such large sums, refused him further loans. In
an agony of apprehension for the future, the old man told Nell that he
had had heavy losses, that they would soon be beggars.
"What if we are?" said the child boldly. "Let us be beggars, and be
happy."
"Beggars--and happy!" said the old man. "Poor child!"
"Dear grandfather," cried the girl, with an energy which shone in her
flushed face, trembling voice, and impassioned, gestures, "O, hear me
pray that we may beg, or work in open roads or fields, to earn a scanty
living, rather than live as we do now.
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