Dombey and Son
the first place, we didn’t know the name of the relation to whose house
she had gone, and, in the second, as she had left that relation’s and
gone to another at a distance, I think that scarcely anything short of
the sagacity of the Chicken, would have found her out in the time.”
Florence was sure of it.
“This, however,” said Mr Toots, “is not the point. The company of Susan
has been, I assure you, Miss Dombey, a consolation and satisfaction to
me, in my state of mind, more easily conceived than described. The
journey has been its own reward. That, however, still, is not the
point. Miss Dombey, I have before observed that I know I am not what is
considered a quick person. I am perfectly aware of that. I don’t think
anybody could be better acquainted with his own—if it was not too
strong an expression, I should say with the thickness of his own
head—than myself. But, Miss Dombey, I do, notwithstanding, perceive the
state of—of things—with Lieutenant Walters. Whatever agony that state
of things may have caused me (which is of no consequence at all), I am
bound to say, that Lieutenant Walters is a person who appears to be
worthy of the blessing that has fallen on his—on his brow. May he wear
it long, and appreciate it, as a very different, and very unworthy
individual, that it is of no consequence to name, would have done!
That, however, still, is not the point. Miss Dombey, Captain Gills is a
friend of mine; and during the interval that is now elapsing, I believe
it would afford Captain Gills pleasure to see me occasionally coming
backwards and forwards here. It would afford me pleasure so to come.
But I cannot forget that I once committed myself, fatally, at the
corner of the Square at Brighton; and if my presence will be, in the
least degree, unpleasant to you, I only ask you to name it to me now,
and assure you that I shall perfectly understand you. I shall not
consider it at all unkind, and shall only be too delighted and happy to
be honoured with your confidence.”
“Mr Toots,” returned Florence, “if you, who are so old and true a
friend of mine, were to stay away from this house now, you would make
me very unhappy. It can never, never, give me any feeling but pleasure
to see you.
“Miss Dombey,” said Mr Toots, taking out his pocket-handkerchief, “if I
shed a tear, it is a tear of joy. It is of no consequence, and I am
very much obliged to you. I may be allowed to remark, after what you
have so kindly said, that it is not my intention to neglect my person
any longer.”
Florence received this intimation with the prettiest expression of
perplexity possible.
“I mean,” said Mr Toots, “that I shall consider it my duty as a
fellow-creature generally, until I am claimed by the silent tomb, to
make the best of myself, and to—to have my boots as brightly polished,
as—as—circumstances will admit of. This is the last time, Miss Dombey,
of my intruding any observation of a private and personal nature. I
thank you very much indeed. If I am not, in a general way, as sensible
as my friends could wish me to be, or as I could wish myself, I really
am, upon my word and honour, particularly sensible of what is
considerate and kind. I feel,” said Mr Toots, in an impassioned tone,
“as if I could express my feelings, at the present moment, in a most
remarkable manner, if—if—I could only get a start.”
Appearing not to get it, after waiting a minute or two to see if it
would come, Mr Toots took a hasty leave, and went below to seek the
Captain, whom he found in the shop.
“Captain Gills,” said Mr Toots, “what is now to take place between us,
takes place under the sacred seal of confidence. It is the sequel,
Captain Gills, of what has taken place between myself and Miss Dombey,
upstairs.”
“Alow and aloft, eh, my lad?” murmured the Captain.
“Exactly so, Captain Gills,” said Mr Toots, whose fervour of
acquiescence was greatly heightened by his entire ignorance of the
Captain’s meaning. “Miss Dombey, I believe, Captain Gills, is to be
shortly united to Lieutenant Walters?”
“Why, ay, my lad. We’re all shipmets here,—Wal”r and sweet—heart will
be jined together in the house of bondage, as soon as the askings is
over,” whispered Captain Cuttle, in his ear.
“The askings, Captain Gills!” repeated Mr Toots.
“In the church, down yonder,” said the Captain, pointing his thumb over
his shoulder.
“Oh! Yes!” returned Mr Toots.
“And then,” said the Captain, in his hoarse whisper, and tapping Mr
Toots on the chest with the back of his hand, and falling from him with
a look of infinite admiration, “what follers? That there pretty
creetur, as delicately brought up as a foreign bird, goes away upon the
roaring main with Wal”r on a woyage to China!”
“Lord, Captain Gills!” said Mr Toots.
“Ay!” nodded the Captain. “The ship as took him up, when he was wrecked
in the hurricane that had drove her clean out of her course, was a
China trader, and Wal”r made the woyage, and got into favour, aboard
and ashore—being as smart and good a lad as ever stepped—and so, the
supercargo dying at Canton, he got made (having acted as clerk afore),
and now he’s supercargo aboard another ship, same owners. And so, you
see,” repeated the Captain, thoughtfully, “the pretty creetur goes away
upon the roaring main with Wal”r, on a woyage to China.”
Mr Toots and Captain Cuttle heaved a sigh in concert. “What then?” said
the Captain. “She loves him true. He loves her true. Them as should
have loved and tended of her, treated of her like the beasts as perish.
When she, cast out of home, come here to me, and dropped upon them
planks, her wownded heart was broke. I know it. I, Ed’ard Cuttle, see
it. There’s nowt but true, kind, steady love, as can ever piece it up
again. If so be I didn’t know that, and didn’t know as Wal”r was her
true love, brother, and she his, I’d have these here blue arms and legs
chopped off, afore I’d let her go. But I know it, and what then! Why,
then, I say, Heaven go with ’em both, and so it will! Amen!”
“Captain Gills,” said Mr Toots, “let me have the pleasure of shaking
hands. You’ve a way of saying things, that gives me an agreeable warmth,
all up my back. _I_ say Amen. You are aware, Captain Gills, that I,
too, have adored Miss Dombey.”
“Cheer up!” said the Captain, laying his hand on Mr Toots’s shoulder.
“Stand by, boy!”
“It is my intention, Captain Gills,” returned the spirited Mr Toots,
“to cheer up. Also to standby, as much as possible. When the silent
tomb shall yawn, Captain Gills, I shall be ready for burial; not
before. But not being certain, just at present, of my power over
myself, what I wish to say to you, and what I shall take it as a
particular favour if you will mention to Lieutenant Walters, is as
follows.”
“Is as follers,” echoed the Captain. “Steady!”
“Miss Dombey being so inexpressably kind,” continued Mr Toots with
watery eyes, “as to say that my presence is the reverse of disagreeable
to her, and you and everybody here being no less forbearing and
tolerant towards one who—who certainly,” said Mr Toots, with momentary
dejection, “would appear to have been born by mistake, I shall come
backwards and forwards of an evening, during the short time we can all
be together. But what I ask is this. If, at any moment, I find that I
cannot endure the contemplation of Lieutenant Walters’s bliss, and
should rush out, I hope, Captain Gills, that you and he will both
consider it as my misfortune and not my fault, or the want of inward
conflict. That you’ll feel convinced I bear no malice to any living
creature-least of all to Lieutenant Walters himself—and that you’ll
casually remark that I have gone out for a walk, or probably to see
what o’clock it is by the Royal Exchange. Captain Gills, if you could
enter into this arrangement, and could answer for Lieutenant Walters,
it would be a relief to my feelings that I should think cheap at the
sacrifice of a considerable portion of my property.”
“My lad,” returned the Captain, “say no more. There ain’t a colour you
can run up, as won’t be made out, and answered to, by Wal”r and self.”
“Captain Gills,” said Mr Toots, “my mind is greatly relieved. I wish to
preserve the good opinion of all here. I—I—mean well, upon my honour,
however badly I may show it. You know,” said Mr Toots, “it’s as exactly
as Burgess and Co. wished to oblige a customer with a most
extraordinary pair of trousers, and could not cut out what they had in
their minds.”
With this apposite illustration, of which he seemed a little Proud, Mr
Toots gave Captain Cuttle his blessing and departed.
The honest Captain, with his Heart’s Delight in the house, and Susan
tending her, was a beaming and a happy man. As the days flew by, he
grew more beaming and more happy, every day. After some conferences
with Susan (for whose wisdom the Captain had a profound respect, and
whose valiant precipitation of herself on Mrs MacStinger he could never
forget), he proposed to Florence that the daughter of the elderly lady
who usually sat under the blue umbrella in Leadenhall Market, should,
for prudential reasons and considerations of privacy, be superseded in
the temporary discharge of the household duties, by someone who was not
unknown to them, and in whom they could safely confide. Susan, being
present, then named, in furtherance of a suggestion she had previously
offered to the Captain, Mrs Richards. Florence brightened at the name.
And Susan, setting off that very afternoon to the Toodle domicile, to
sound Mrs Richards, returned in triumph the same evening, accompanied
by the identical rosy-cheeked apple-faced Polly, whose demonstrations,
when brought into Florence’s presence, were hardly less affectionate
than those of Susan Nipper herself.
This piece of generalship accomplished; from which the Captain derived
uncommon satisfaction, as he did, indeed, from everything else that was
done, whatever it happened to be; Florence had next to prepare Susan
for their approaching separation. This was a much more difficult task,
as Miss Nipper was of a resolute disposition, and had fully made up her
mind that she had come back never to be parted from her old mistress
any more.
“As to wages dear Miss Floy,” she said, “you wouldn’t hint and wrong me
so as think of naming them, for I’ve put money by and wouldn’t sell my
love and duty at a time like this even if the Savings’ Banks and me
were total strangers or the Banks were broke to pieces, but you’ve
never been without me darling from the time your poor dear Ma was took
away, and though I’m nothing to be boasted of you’re used to me and oh
my own dear mistress through so many years don’t think of going
anywhere without me, for it mustn’t and can’t be!”
“Dear Susan, I am going on a long, long voyage.”
“Well Miss Floy, and what of that? the more you’ll want me. Lengths of
voyages ain’t an object in my eyes, thank God!” said the impetuous
Susan Nipper.
“But, Susan, I am going with Walter, and I would go with Walter
anywhere—everywhere! Walter is poor, and I am very poor, and I must
learn, now, both to help myself, and help him.”
“Dear Miss Floy!” cried Susan, bursting out afresh, and shaking her
head violently, “it’s nothing new to you to help yourself and others
too and be the patientest and truest of noble hearts, but let me talk
to Mr Walter Gay and settle it with him, for suffer you to go away
across the world alone I cannot, and I won’t.”
“Alone, Susan?” returned Florence. “Alone? and Walter taking me with
him!” Ah, what a bright, amazed, enraptured smile was on her face!—He
should have seen it. “I am sure you will not speak to Walter if I ask
you not,” she added tenderly; “and pray don’t, dear.”
Susan sobbed “Why not, Miss Floy?”
“Because,” said Florence, “I am going to be his wife, to give him up my