Page:Dombey and Son.djvu/533

440 said the heart-broken Nipper, "that keeps ever so many co-o-ows and pigs and I shall go down there by the coach and sto-op with him, and don’t mind me, for I ’ve got money in the Savings Banks my dear, and needn’t take another service just yet, which I couldn’t, couldn’t, couldn’t do, my heart’s own mistress!" Susan finished with a burst of sorrow, which was opportunely broken by the voice of Mrs. Pipchin talking down stairs; on hearing which, she dried her red and swollen eyes, and made a melancholy feint of calling jauntily to Mr. Towlinson to fetch a cab and carry down her boxes.

Florence, pale and hurried and distressed, but withheld from useless interference even here, by her dread of causing any new division between her father and his wife (whose stern, indignant face had been a warning to her a few moments since), and by her apprehension of being in some way unconsciously connected already with the dismissal of her old servant and friend, followed, weeping, down stairs to Edith’s dressing-room, whither Susan betook herself to make her parting curtsey.

"Now, here’s the cab, and here’s the boxes, get along with you, do!" said Mrs. Pipchin, presenting herself at the same moment. "I beg your pardon, Ma’am, but Mr. Dombey’s orders are imperative."

Edith, sitting under the hands of her maid—she was going out to dinner—preserved her haughty face, and took not the least notice.

"There’s your money," said Mrs. Pipchin, who in pursuance of her system, and in recollection of the Mines, was accustomed to rout the servants about, as she had routed her young Brighton boarders; to the everlasting acidulation of Master Bitherstone, "and the sooner this house sees your back the better."

Susan had no spirits even for the look that belonged to Ma Pipchin by right; so she dropped her curtsey to Mrs. Dombey (who inclined her head without one word, and whose eye avoided everyone but Florence), and gave one last parting hug to her young mistress, and received her parting embrace in return. Poor Susan’s face at this crisis, in the intensity of her feelings and the determined suffocation of her sobs, lest one should become audible and be a triumph to Mrs. Pipchin, presented a series of the most extraordinary physiognomical phenomena ever witnessed.

"I beg your pardon, Miss, I’m sure," said Towlinson, outside the door with the boxes, addressing Florence, "but Mr. Toots is in the drawing-room, and sends his compliments, and begs to know how Diogenes and Master is."

Quick as thought, Florence glided out and hastened down stairs, where Mr. Toots, in the most splendid vestments, was breathing very hard with doubt and agitation on the subject of her coming.

"Oh, how de do, Miss Dombey," said Mr. Toots, "God bless my soul!"

This last ejaculation was occasioned by Mr. Toots’s deep concern at the distress he saw in Florence’s face; which caused him to stop short in a fit of chuckles, and become an image of despair.

"Dear Mr. Toots," said Florence, "you are so friendly to me, and so honest, that I am sure I may ask a favour of you."

"Miss Dombey," returned Mr. Toots, "if you ’ll only name one, you ’ll—you ’ll give me an appetite. To which," said Mr. Toots, with some sentiment, "I have long been a stranger."