<p><SPAN name="link2HCH0060" id="link2HCH0060"></SPAN></p>
<h2> CHAPTER 60. Chiefly Matrimonial </h2>
<p>The grand half-yearly festival holden by Doctor and Mrs Blimber, on which
occasion they requested the pleasure of the company of every young
gentleman pursuing his studies in that genteel establishment, at an early
party, when the hour was half-past seven o'clock, and when the object was
quadrilles, had duly taken place, about this time; and the young
gentlemen, with no unbecoming demonstrations of levity, had betaken
themselves, in a state of scholastic repletion, to their own homes. Mr
Skettles had repaired abroad, permanently to grace the establishment of
his father Sir Barnet Skettles, whose popular manners had obtained him a
diplomatic appointment, the honours of which were discharged by himself
and Lady Skettles, to the satisfaction even of their own countrymen and
countrywomen: which was considered almost miraculous. Mr Tozer, now a
young man of lofty stature, in Wellington boots, was so extremely full of
antiquity as to be nearly on a par with a genuine ancient Roman in his
knowledge of English: a triumph that affected his good parents with the
tenderest emotions, and caused the father and mother of Mr Briggs (whose
learning, like ill-arranged luggage, was so tightly packed that he
couldn't get at anything he wanted) to hide their diminished heads. The
fruit laboriously gathered from the tree of knowledge by this latter young
gentleman, in fact, had been subjected to so much pressure, that it had
become a kind of intellectual Norfolk Biffin, and had nothing of its
original form or flavour remaining. Master Bitherstone now, on whom the
forcing system had the happier and not uncommon effect of leaving no
impression whatever, when the forcing apparatus ceased to work, was in a
much more comfortable plight; and being then on shipboard, bound for
Bengal, found himself forgetting, with such admirable rapidity, that it
was doubtful whether his declensions of noun-substantives would hold out
to the end of the voyage.</p>
<p>When Doctor Blimber, in pursuance of the usual course, would have said to
the young gentlemen, on the morning of the party, 'Gentlemen, we will
resume our studies on the twenty-fifth of next month,' he departed from
the usual course, and said, 'Gentlemen, when our friend Cincinnatus
retired to his farm, he did not present to the senate any Roman who he
sought to nominate as his successor.' But there is a Roman here,' said
Doctor Blimber, laying his hand on the shoulder of Mr Feeder, B.A.,
adolescens imprimis gravis et doctus, gentlemen, whom I, a retiring
Cincinnatus, wish to present to my little senate, as their future
Dictator. Gentlemen, we will resume our studies on the twenty-fifth of
next month, under the auspices of Mr Feeder, B.A.' At this (which Doctor
Blimber had previously called upon all the parents, and urbanely
explained), the young gentlemen cheered; and Mr Tozer, on behalf of the
rest, instantly presented the Doctor with a silver inkstand, in a speech
containing very little of the mother-tongue, but fifteen quotations from
the Latin, and seven from the Greek, which moved the younger of the young
gentlemen to discontent and envy: they remarking, 'Oh, ah. It was all very
well for old Tozer, but they didn't subscribe money for old Tozer to show
off with, they supposed; did they? What business was it of old Tozer's
more than anybody else's? It wasn't his inkstand. Why couldn't he leave
the boys' property alone?' and murmuring other expressions of their
dissatisfaction, which seemed to find a greater relief in calling him old
Tozer, than in any other available vent.</p>
<p>Not a word had been said to the young gentlemen, nor a hint dropped, of
anything like a contemplated marriage between Mr Feeder, B.A., and the
fair Cornelia Blimber. Doctor Blimber, especially, seemed to take pains to
look as if nothing would surprise him more; but it was perfectly well
known to all the young gentlemen nevertheless, and when they departed for
the society of their relations and friends, they took leave of Mr Feeder
with awe.</p>
<p>Mr Feeder's most romantic visions were fulfilled. The Doctor had
determined to paint the house outside, and put it in thorough repair; and
to give up the business, and to give up Cornelia. The painting and
repairing began upon the very day of the young gentlemen's departure, and
now behold! the wedding morning was come, and Cornelia, in a new pair of
spectacles, was waiting to be led to the hymeneal altar.</p>
<p>The Doctor with his learned legs, and Mrs Blimber in a lilac bonnet, and
Mr Feeder, B.A., with his long knuckles and his bristly head of hair, and
Mr Feeder's brother, the Reverend Alfred Feeder, M.A., who was to perform
the ceremony, were all assembled in the drawing-room, and Cornelia with
her orange-flowers and bridesmaids had just come down, and looked, as of
old, a little squeezed in appearance, but very charming, when the door
opened, and the weak-eyed young man, in a loud voice, made the following
proclamation:</p>
<p>'MR AND MRS TOOTS!'</p>
<p>Upon which there entered Mr Toots, grown extremely stout, and on his arm a
lady very handsomely and becomingly dressed, with very bright black eyes.
'Mrs Blimber,' said Mr Toots, 'allow me to present my wife.'</p>
<p>Mrs Blimber was delighted to receive her. Mrs Blimber was a little
condescending, but extremely kind.</p>
<p>'And as you've known me for a long time, you know,' said Mr Toots, 'let me
assure you that she is one of the most remarkable women that ever lived.'</p>
<p>'My dear!' remonstrated Mrs Toots.</p>
<p>'Upon my word and honour she is,' said Mr Toots. 'I—I assure you,
Mrs Blimber, she's a most extraordinary woman.'</p>
<p>Mrs Toots laughed merrily, and Mrs Blimber led her to Cornelia. Mr Toots
having paid his respects in that direction and having saluted his old
preceptor, who said, in allusion to his conjugal state, 'Well, Toots,
well, Toots! So you are one of us, are you, Toots?'—retired with Mr
Feeder, B.A., into a window.</p>
<p>Mr Feeder, B.A., being in great spirits, made a spar at Mr Toots, and
tapped him skilfully with the back of his hand on the breastbone.</p>
<p>'Well, old Buck!' said Mr Feeder with a laugh. 'Well! Here we are! Taken
in and done for. Eh?'</p>
<p>'Feeder,' returned Mr Toots. 'I give you joy. If you're as—as—as
perfectly blissful in a matrimonial life, as I am myself, you'll have
nothing to desire.'</p>
<p>'I don't forget my old friends, you see,' said Mr Feeder. 'I ask em to my
wedding, Toots.'</p>
<p>'Feeder,' replied Mr Toots gravely, 'the fact is, that there were several
circumstances which prevented me from communicating with you until after
my marriage had been solemnised. In the first place, I had made a perfect
Brute of myself to you, on the subject of Miss Dombey; and I felt that if
you were asked to any wedding of mine, you would naturally expect that it
was with Miss Dombey, which involved explanations, that upon my word and
honour, at that crisis, would have knocked me completely over. In the
second place, our wedding was strictly private; there being nobody present
but one friend of myself and Mrs Toots's, who is a Captain in—I
don't exactly know in what,' said Mr Toots, 'but it's of no consequence. I
hope, Feeder, that in writing a statement of what had occurred before Mrs
Toots and myself went abroad upon our foreign tour, I fully discharged the
offices of friendship.'</p>
<p>'Toots, my boy,' said Mr Feeder, shaking his hands, 'I was joking.'</p>
<p>'And now, Feeder,' said Mr Toots, 'I should be glad to know what you think
of my union.'</p>
<p>'Capital!' returned Mr Feeder.</p>
<p>'You think it's capital, do you, Feeder?'said Mr Toots solemnly. 'Then how
capital must it be to Me! For you can never know what an extraordinary
woman that is.'</p>
<p>Mr Feeder was willing to take it for granted. But Mr Toots shook his head,
and wouldn't hear of that being possible.</p>
<p>'You see,' said Mr Toots, 'what I wanted in a wife was—in short, was
sense. Money, Feeder, I had. Sense I—I had not, particularly.'</p>
<p>Mr Feeder murmured, 'Oh, yes, you had, Toots!' But Mr Toots said:</p>
<p>'No, Feeder, I had not. Why should I disguise it? I had not. I knew that
sense was There,' said Mr Toots, stretching out his hand towards his wife,
'in perfect heaps. I had no relation to object or be offended, on the
score of station; for I had no relation. I have never had anybody
belonging to me but my guardian, and him, Feeder, I have always considered
as a Pirate and a Corsair. Therefore, you know it was not likely,' said Mr
Toots, 'that I should take his opinion.'</p>
<p>'No,' said Mr Feeder.</p>
<p>'Accordingly,' resumed Mr Toots, 'I acted on my own. Bright was the day on
which I did so! Feeder! Nobody but myself can tell what the capacity of
that woman's mind is. If ever the Rights of Women, and all that kind of
thing, are properly attended to, it will be through her powerful intellect—
Susan, my dear!' said Mr Toots, looking abruptly out of the windows 'pray
do not exert yourself!'</p>
<p>'My dear,' said Mrs Toots, 'I was only talking.'</p>
<p>'But, my love,' said Mr Toots, 'pray do not exert yourself. You really
must be careful. Do not, my dear Susan, exert yourself. She's so easily
excited,' said Mr Toots, apart to Mrs Blimber, 'and then she forgets the
medical man altogether.'</p>
<p>Mrs Blimber was impressing on Mrs Toots the necessity of caution, when Mr
Feeder, B.A., offered her his arm, and led her down to the carriages that
were waiting to go to church. Doctor Blimber escorted Mrs Toots. Mr Toots
escorted the fair bride, around whose lambent spectacles two gauzy little
bridesmaids fluttered like moths. Mr Feeder's brother, Mr Alfred Feeder,
M.A., had already gone on, in advance, to assume his official functions.</p>
<p>The ceremony was performed in an admirable manner. Cornelia, with her
crisp little curls, 'went in,' as the Chicken might have said, with great
composure; and Doctor Blimber gave her away, like a man who had quite made
up his mind to it. The gauzy little bridesmaids appeared to suffer most.
Mrs Blimber was affected, but gently so; and told the Reverend Mr Alfred
Feeder, M.A., on the way home, that if she could only have seen Cicero in
his retirement at Tusculum, she would not have had a wish, now,
ungratified.</p>
<p>There was a breakfast afterwards, limited to the same small party; at
which the spirits of Mr Feeder, B.A., were tremendous, and so communicated
themselves to Mrs Toots that Mr Toots was several times heard to observe,
across the table, 'My dear Susan, don't exert yourself!' The best of it
was, that Mr Toots felt it incunbent on him to make a speech; and in spite
of a whole code of telegraphic dissuasions from Mrs Toots, appeared on his
legs for the first time in his life.</p>
<p>'I really,' said Mr Toots, 'in this house, where whatever was done to me
in the way of—of any mental confusion sometimes—which is of no
consequence and I impute to nobody—I was always treated like one of
Doctor Blimber's family, and had a desk to myself for a considerable
period—can—not—allow- -my friend Feeder to be—'</p>
<p>Mrs Toots suggested 'married.'</p>
<p>'It may not be inappropriate to the occasion, or altogether
uninteresting,' said Mr Toots with a delighted face, 'to observe that my
wife is a most extraordinary woman, and would do this much better than
myself—allow my friend Feeder to be married—especially to—'</p>
<p>Mrs Toots suggested 'to Miss Blimber.'</p>
<p>'To Mrs Feeder, my love!' said Mr Toots, in a subdued tone of private
discussion: "'whom God hath joined," you know, "let no man"—don't
you know? I cannot allow my friend Feeder to be married—especially
to Mrs Feeder—without proposing their—their—Toasts; and
may,' said Mr Toots, fixing his eyes on his wife, as if for inspiration in
a high flight, 'may the torch of Hymen be the beacon of joy, and may the
flowers we have this day strewed in their path, be the—the banishers
of—of gloom!'</p>
<p>Doctor Blimber, who had a taste for metaphor, was pleased with this, and
said, 'Very good, Toots! Very well said, indeed, Toots!' and nodded his
head and patted his hands. Mr Feeder made in reply, a comic speech
chequered with sentiment. Mr Alfred Feeder, M.A., was afterwards very
happy on Doctor and Mrs Blimber; Mr Feeder, B.A., scarcely less so, on the
gauzy little bridesmaids. Doctor Blimber then, in a sonorous voice,
delivered a few thoughts in the pastoral style, relative to the rushes
among which it was the intention of himself and Mrs Blimber to dwell, and
the bee that would hum around their cot. Shortly after which, as the
Doctor's eyes were twinkling in a remarkable manner, and his son-in-law
had already observed that time was made for slaves, and had inquired
whether Mrs Toots sang, the discreet Mrs Blimber dissolved the sitting,
and sent Cornelia away, very cool and comfortable, in a post-chaise, with
the man of her heart.</p>
<p>Mr and Mrs Toots withdrew to the Bedford (Mrs Toots had been there before
in old times, under her maiden name of Nipper), and there found a letter,
which it took Mr Toots such an enormous time to read, that Mrs Toots was
frightened.</p>
<p>'My dear Susan,' said Mr Toots, 'fright is worse than exertion. Pray be
calm!'</p>
<p>'Who is it from?' asked Mrs Toots.</p>
<p>'Why, my love,' said Mr Toots, 'it's from Captain Gills. Do not excite
yourself. Walters and Miss Dombey are expected home!'</p>
<p>'My dear,' said Mrs Toots, raising herself quickly from the sofa, very
pale, 'don't try to deceive me, for it's no use, they're come home—I
see it plainly in your face!'</p>
<p>'She's a most extraordinary woman!' exclaimed Mr Toots, in rapturous
admiration. 'You're perfectly right, my love, they have come home. Miss
Dombey has seen her father, and they are reconciled!'</p>
<p>'Reconciled!' cried Mrs Toots, clapping her hands.</p>
<p>'My dear,' said Mr Toots; 'pray do not exert yourself. Do remember the
medical man! Captain Gills says—at least he don't say, but I
imagine, from what I can make out, he means—that Miss Dombey has
brought her unfortunate father away from his old house, to one where she
and Walters are living; that he is lying very ill there—supposed to
be dying; and that she attends upon him night and day.'</p>
<p>Mrs Toots began to cry quite bitterly.</p>
<p>'My dearest Susan,' replied Mr Toots, 'do, do, if you possibly can,
remember the medical man! If you can't, it's of no consequence—but
do endeavour to!'</p>
<p>His wife, with her old manner suddenly restored, so pathetically entreated
him to take her to her precious pet, her little mistress, her own darling,
and the like, that Mr Toots, whose sympathy and admiration were of the
strongest kind, consented from his very heart of hearts; and they agreed
to depart immediately, and present themselves in answer to the Captain's
letter.</p>
<p>Now some hidden sympathies of things, or some coincidences, had that day
brought the Captain himself (toward whom Mr and Mrs Toots were soon
journeying) into the flowery train of wedlock; not as a principal, but as
an accessory. It happened accidentally, and thus:</p>
<p>The Captain, having seen Florence and her baby for a moment, to his
unbounded content, and having had a long talk with Walter, turned out for
a walk; feeling it necessary to have some solitary meditation on the
changes of human affairs, and to shake his glazed hat profoundly over the
fall of Mr Dombey, for whom the generosity and simplicity of his nature
were awakened in a lively manner. The Captain would have been very low,
indeed, on the unhappy gentleman's account, but for the recollection of
the baby; which afforded him such intense satisfaction whenever it arose,
that he laughed aloud as he went along the street, and, indeed, more than
once, in a sudden impulse of joy, threw up his glazed hat and caught it
again; much to the amazement of the spectators. The rapid alternations of
light and shade to which these two conflicting subjects of reflection
exposed the Captain, were so very trying to his spirits, that he felt a
long walk necessary to his composure; and as there is a great deal in the
influence of harmonious associations, he chose, for the scene of this
walk, his old neighbourhood, down among the mast, oar, and block makers,
ship-biscuit bakers, coal- whippers, pitch-kettles, sailors, canals,
docks, swing-bridges, and other soothing objects.</p>
<p>These peaceful scenes, and particularly the region of Limehouse Hole and
thereabouts, were so influential in calming the Captain, that he walked on
with restored tranquillity, and was, in fact, regaling himself, under his
breath, with the ballad of Lovely Peg, when, on turning a corner, he was
suddenly transfixed and rendered speechless by a triumphant procession
that he beheld advancing towards him.</p>
<p>This awful demonstration was headed by that determined woman Mrs
MacStinger, who, preserving a countenance of inexorable resolution, and
wearing conspicuously attached to her obdurate bosom a stupendous watch
and appendages, which the Captain recognised at a glance as the property
of Bunsby, conducted under her arm no other than that sagacious mariner;
he, with the distraught and melancholy visage of a captive borne into a
foreign land, meekly resigning himself to her will. Behind them appeared
the young MacStingers, in a body, exulting. Behind them, two ladies of a
terrible and steadfast aspect, leading between them a short gentleman in a
tall hat, who likewise exulted. In the wake, appeared Bunsby's boy,
bearing umbrellas. The whole were in good marching order; and a dreadful
smartness that pervaded the party would have sufficiently announced, if
the intrepid countenances of the ladies had been wanting, that it was a
procession of sacrifice, and that the victim was Bunsby.</p>
<p>The first impulse of the Captain was to run away. This also appeared to be
the first impulse of Bunsby, hopeless as its execution must have proved.
But a cry of recognition proceeding from the party, and Alexander
MacStinger running up to the Captain with open arms, the Captain struck.</p>
<p>'Well, Cap'en Cuttle!' said Mrs MacStinger. 'This is indeed a meeting! I
bear no malice now, Cap'en Cuttle—you needn't fear that I'm a going
to cast any reflections. I hope to go to the altar in another spirit.'
Here Mrs MacStinger paused, and drawing herself up, and inflating her
bosom with a long breath, said, in allusion to the victim, 'My 'usband,
Cap'en Cuttle!'</p>
<p>The abject Bunsby looked neither to the right nor to the left, nor at his
bride, nor at his friend, but straight before him at nothing. The Captain
putting out his hand, Bunsby put out his; but, in answer to the Captain's
greeting, spake no word.</p>
<p>'Cap'en Cuttle,' said Mrs MacStinger, 'if you would wish to heal up past
animosities, and to see the last of your friend, my 'usband, as a single
person, we should be 'appy of your company to chapel. Here is a lady
here,' said Mrs MacStinger, turning round to the more intrepid of the two,
'my bridesmaid, that will be glad of your protection, Cap'en Cuttle.'</p>
<p>The short gentleman in the tall hat, who it appeared was the husband of
the other lady, and who evidently exulted at the reduction of a fellow
creature to his own condition, gave place at this, and resigned the lady
to Captain Cuttle. The lady immediately seized him, and, observing that
there was no time to lose, gave the word, in a strong voice, to advance.</p>
<p>The Captain's concern for his friend, not unmingled, at first, with some
concern for himself—for a shadowy terror that he might be married by
violence, possessed him, until his knowledge of the service came to his
relief, and remembering the legal obligation of saying, 'I will,' he felt
himself personally safe so long as he resolved, if asked any question,
distinctly to reply I won't'—threw him into a profuse perspiration;
and rendered him, for a time, insensible to the movements of the
procession, of which he now formed a feature, and to the conversation of
his fair companion. But as he became less agitated, he learnt from this
lady that she was the widow of a Mr Bokum, who had held an employment in
the Custom House; that she was the dearest friend of Mrs MacStinger, whom
she considered a pattern for her sex; that she had often heard of the
Captain, and now hoped he had repented of his past life; that she trusted
Mr Bunsby knew what a blessing he had gained, but that she feared men
seldom did know what such blessings were, until they had lost them; with
more to the same purpose.</p>
<p>All this time, the Captain could not but observe that Mrs Bokum kept her
eyes steadily on the bridegroom, and that whenever they came near a court
or other narrow turning which appeared favourable for flight, she was on
the alert to cut him off if he attempted escape. The other lady, too, as
well as her husband, the short gentleman with the tall hat, were plainly
on guard, according to a preconcerted plan; and the wretched man was so
secured by Mrs MacStinger, that any effort at self-preservation by flight
was rendered futile. This, indeed, was apparent to the mere populace, who
expressed their perception of the fact by jeers and cries; to all of
which, the dread MacStinger was inflexibly indifferent, while Bunsby
himself appeared in a state of unconsciousness.</p>
<p>The Captain made many attempts to accost the philosopher, if only in a
monosyllable or a signal; but always failed, in consequence of the
vigilance of the guard, and the difficulty, at all times peculiar to
Bunsby's constitution, of having his attention aroused by any outward and
visible sign whatever. Thus they approached the chapel, a neat whitewashed
edifice, recently engaged by the Reverend Melchisedech Howler, who had
consented, on very urgent solicitation, to give the world another two
years of existence, but had informed his followers that, then, it must
positively go.</p>
<p>While the Reverend Melchisedech was offering up some extemporary orisons,
the Captain found an opportunity of growling in the bridegroom's ear:</p>
<p>'What cheer, my lad, what cheer?'</p>
<p>To which Bunsby replied, with a forgetfulness of the Reverend
Melchisedech, which nothing but his desperate circumstances could have
excused:</p>
<p>'D——-d bad,'</p>
<p>'Jack Bunsby,' whispered the Captain, 'do you do this here, of your own
free will?'</p>
<p>Mr Bunsby answered 'No.'</p>
<p>'Why do you do it, then, my lad?' inquired the Captain, not unnaturally.</p>
<p>Bunsby, still looking, and always looking with an immovable countenance,
at the opposite side of the world, made no reply.</p>
<p>'Why not sheer off?' said the Captain. 'Eh?' whispered Bunsby, with a
momentary gleam of hope. 'Sheer off,' said the Captain.</p>
<p>'Where's the good?' retorted the forlorn sage. 'She'd capter me agen.</p>
<p>'Try!' replied the Captain. 'Cheer up! Come! Now's your time. Sheer off,
Jack Bunsby!'</p>
<p>Jack Bunsby, however, instead of profiting by the advice, said in a
doleful whisper:</p>
<p>'It all began in that there chest o' yourn. Why did I ever conwoy her into
port that night?'</p>
<p>'My lad,' faltered the Captain, 'I thought as you had come over her; not
as she had come over you. A man as has got such opinions as you have!'</p>
<p>Mr Bunsby merely uttered a suppressed groan.</p>
<p>'Come!' said the Captain, nudging him with his elbow, 'now's your time!
Sheer off! I'll cover your retreat. The time's a flying. Bunsby! It's for
liberty. Will you once?'</p>
<p>Bunsby was immovable. 'Bunsby!' whispered the Captain, 'will you twice?'
Bunsby wouldn't twice.</p>
<p>'Bunsby!' urged the Captain, 'it's for liberty; will you three times? Now
or never!'</p>
<p>Bunsby didn't then, and didn't ever; for Mrs MacStinger immediately
afterwards married him.</p>
<p>One of the most frightful circumstances of the ceremony to the Captain,
was the deadly interest exhibited therein by Juliana MacStinger; and the
fatal concentration of her faculties, with which that promising child,
already the image of her parent, observed the whole proceedings. The
Captain saw in this a succession of man-traps stretching out infinitely; a
series of ages of oppression and coercion, through which the seafaring
line was doomed. It was a more memorable sight than the unflinching
steadiness of Mrs Bokum and the other lady, the exultation of the short
gentleman in the tall hat, or even the fell inflexibility of Mrs
MacStinger. The Master MacStingers understood little of what was going on,
and cared less; being chiefly engaged, during the ceremony, in treading on
one another's half-boots; but the contrast afforded by those wretched
infants only set off and adorned the precocious woman in Juliana. Another
year or two, the Captain thought, and to lodge where that child was, would
be destruction.</p>
<p>The ceremony was concluded by a general spring of the young family on Mr
Bunsby, whom they hailed by the endearing name of father, and from whom
they solicited half-pence. These gushes of affection over, the procession
was about to issue forth again, when it was delayed for some little time
by an unexpected transport on the part of Alexander MacStinger. That dear
child, it seemed, connecting a chapel with tombstones, when it was entered
for any purpose apart from the ordinary religious exercises, could not be
persuaded but that his mother was now to be decently interred, and lost to
him for ever. In the anguish of this conviction, he screamed with
astonishing force, and turned black in the face. However touching these
marks of a tender disposition were to his mother, it was not in the
character of that remarkable woman to permit her recognition of them to
degenerate into weakness. Therefore, after vainly endeavouring to convince
his reason by shakes, pokes, bawlings-out, and similar applications to his
head, she led him into the air, and tried another method; which was
manifested to the marriage party by a quick succession of sharp sounds,
resembling applause, and subsequently, by their seeing Alexander in
contact with the coolest paving-stone in the court, greatly flushed, and
loudly lamenting.</p>
<p>The procession being then in a condition to form itself once more, and
repair to Brig Place, where a marriage feast was in readiness, returned as
it had come; not without the receipt, by Bunsby, of many humorous
congratulations from the populace on his recently-acquired happiness. The
Captain accompanied it as far as the house-door, but, being made uneasy by
the gentler manner of Mrs Bokum, who, now that she was relieved from her
engrossing duty—for the watchfulness and alacrity of the ladies
sensibly diminished when the bridegroom was safely married—had
greater leisure to show an interest in his behalf, there left it and the
captive; faintly pleading an appointment, and promising to return
presently. The Captain had another cause for uneasiness, in remorsefully
reflecting that he had been the first means of Bunsby's entrapment, though
certainly without intending it, and through his unbounded faith in the
resources of that philosopher.</p>
<p>To go back to old Sol Gills at the wooden Midshipman's, and not first go
round to ask how Mr Dombey was—albeit the house where he lay was out
of London, and away on the borders of a fresh heath—was quite out of
the Captain's course. So he got a lift when he was tired, and made out the
journey gaily.</p>
<p>The blinds were pulled down, and the house so quiet, that the Captain was
almost afraid to knock; but listening at the door, he heard low voices
within, very near it, and, knocking softly, was admitted by Mr Toots. Mr
Toots and his wife had, in fact, just arrived there; having been at the
Midshipman's to seek him, and having there obtained the address.</p>
<p>They were not so recently arrived, but that Mrs Toots had caught the baby
from somebody, taken it in her arms, and sat down on the stairs, hugging
and fondling it. Florence was stooping down beside her; and no one could
have said which Mrs Toots was hugging and fondling most, the mother or the
child, or which was the tenderer, Florence of Mrs Toots, or Mrs Toots of
her, or both of the baby; it was such a little group of love and
agitation.</p>
<p>'And is your Pa very ill, my darling dear Miss Floy?' asked Susan.</p>
<p>'He is very, very ill,' said Florence. 'But, Susan, dear, you must not
speak to me as you used to speak. And what's this?' said Florence,
touching her clothes, in amazement. 'Your old dress, dear? Your old cap,
curls, and all?'</p>
<p>Susan burst into tears, and showered kisses on the little hand that had
touched her so wonderingly.</p>
<p>'My dear Miss Dombey,' said Mr Toots, stepping forward, 'I'll explain.
She's the most extraordinary woman. There are not many to equal her! She
has always said—she said before we were married, and has said to
this day—that whenever you came home, she'd come to you in no dress
but the dress she used to serve you in, for fear she might seem strange to
you, and you might like her less. I admire the dress myself,' said Mr
Toots, 'of all things. I adore her in it! My dear Miss Dombey, she'll be
your maid again, your nurse, all that she ever was, and more. There's no
change in her. But, Susan, my dear,' said Mr Toots, who had spoken with
great feeling and high admiration, 'all I ask is, that you'll remember the
medical man, and not exert yourself too much!'</p>
<div style="break-after:column;"></div><br />