Paul's Second Deprivation1
Polly was beset2 by so many misgivings4 in the morning, that but for the incessant5 promptings of her black-eyed companion, she would have abandoned all thoughts of the expedition, and formally petitioned for leave to see number one hundred and forty-seven, under the awful shadow of Mr Dombey's roof. But Susan who was personally disposed in favour of the excursion, and who (like Tony Lumpkin), if she could bear the disappointments of other people with tolerable fortitude6, could not abide7 to disappoint herself, threw so many ingenious doubts in the way of this second thought, and stimulated8 the original intention with so many ingenious arguments, that almost as soon as Mr Dombey's stately back was turned, and that gentleman was pursuing his daily road towards the City, his unconscious son was on his way to Staggs's Gardens.
This euphonious9 locality was situated10 in a suburb, known by the inhabitants of Staggs's Gardens by the name of Camberling Town; a designation which the Strangers' Map of London, as printed (with a view to pleasant and commodious11 reference) on pocket handkerchiefs, condenses, with some show of reason, into Camden Town. Hither the two nurses bent12 their steps, accompanied by their charges; Richards carrying Paul, of course, and Susan leading little Florence by the hand, and giving her such jerks and pokes13 from time to time, as she considered it wholesome14 to administer.
The first shock of a great earthquake had, just at that period, rent the whole neighbourhood to its centre. Traces of its course were visible on every side. Houses were knocked down; streets broken through and stopped; deep pits and trenches15 dug in the ground; enormous heaps of earth and clay thrown up; buildings that were undermined and shaking, propped16 by great beams of wood. Here, a chaos17 of carts, overthrown18 and jumbled19 together, lay topsy-turvy at the bottom of a steep unnatural20 hill; there, confused treasures of iron soaked and rusted21 in something that had accidentally become a pond. Everywhere were bridges that led nowhere; thoroughfares that were wholly impassable; Babel towers of chimneys, wanting half their height; temporary wooden houses and enclosures, in the most unlikely situations; carcases of ragged22 tenements23, and fragments of unfinished walls and arches, and piles of scaffolding, and wildernesses24 of bricks, and giant forms of cranes, and tripods straddling above nothing. There were a hundred thousand shapes and substances of incompleteness, wildly mingled25 out of their places, upside down, burrowing26 in the earth, aspiring27 in the air, mouldering28 in the water, and unintelligible29 as any dream. Hot springs and fiery30 eruptions31, the usual attendants upon earthquakes, lent their contributions of confusion to the scene. Boiling water hissed32 and heaved within dilapidated walls; whence, also, the glare and roar of flames came issuing forth33; and mounds34 of ashes blocked up rights of way, and wholly changed the law and custom of the neighbourhood.
In short, the yet unfinished and unopened Railroad was in progress; and, from the very core of all this dire35 disorder36, trailed smoothly37 away, upon its mighty38 course of civilisation39 and improvement.
But as yet, the neighbourhood was shy to own the Railroad. One or two bold speculators had projected streets; and one had built a little, but had stopped among the mud and ashes to consider farther of it. A bran-new Tavern40, redolent of fresh mortar41 and size, and fronting nothing at all, had taken for its sign The Railway Arms; but that might be rash enterprise - and then it hoped to sell drink to the workmen. So, the Excavators' House of Call had sprung up from a beer-shop; and the old-established Ham and Beef Shop had become the Railway Eating House, with a roast leg of pork daily, through interested motives42 of a similar immediate43 and popular description. Lodging-house keepers were favourable44 in like manner; and for the like reasons were not to be trusted. The general belief was very slow. There were frowzy45 fields, and cow-houses, and dunghills, and dustheaps, and ditches, and gardens, and summer-houses, and carpet-beating grounds, at the very door of the Railway. Little tumuli of oyster46 shells in the oyster season, and of lobster47 shells in the lobster season, and of broken crockery and faded cabbage leaves in all seasons, encroached upon its high places. Posts, and rails, and old cautions to trespassers, and backs of mean houses, and patches of wretched vegetation, stared it out of countenance48. Nothing was the better for it, or thought of being so. If the miserable49 waste ground lying near it could have laughed, it would have laughed it to scorn, like many of the miserable neighbours.
Staggs's Gardens was uncommonly50 incredulous. It was a little row of houses, with little squalid patches of ground before them, fenced off with old doors, barrel staves, scraps51 of tarpaulin52, and dead bushes; with bottomless tin kettles and exhausted53 iron fenders, thrust into the gaps. Here, the Staggs's Gardeners trained scarlet54 beans, kept fowls55 and rabbits, erected56 rotten summer-houses (one was an old boat), dried clothes, and smoked pipes. Some were of opinion that Staggs's Gardens derived57 its name from a deceased capitalist, one Mr Staggs, who had built it for his delectation. Others, who had a natural taste for the country, held that it dated from those rural times when the antlered herd58, under the familiar denomination59 of Staggses, had resorted to its shady precincts. Be this as it may, Staggs's Gardens was regarded by its population as a sacred grove60 not to be withered61 by Railroads; and so confident were they generally of its long outliving any such ridiculous inventions, that the master chimney-sweeper at the corner, who was understood to take the lead in the local politics of the Gardens, had publicly declared that on the occasion of the Railroad opening, if ever it did open, two of his boys should ascend63 the flues of his dwelling64, with instructions to hail the failure with derisive65 cheers from the chimney-pots.
To this unhallowed spot, the very name of which had hitherto been carefully concealed66 from Mr Dombey by his sister, was little Paul now borne by Fate and Richards
'That's my house, Susan,' said Polly, pointing it out.
'Is it, indeed, Mrs Richards?' said Susan, condescendingly.
'And there's my sister Jemima at the door, I do declare' cried Polly, 'with my own sweet precious baby in her arms!'
The sight added such an extensive pair of wings to Polly's impatience68, that she set off down the Gardens at a run, and bouncing on Jemima, changed babies with her in a twinkling; to the unutterable astonishment69 of that young damsel, on whom the heir of the Dombeys seemed to have fallen from the clouds.
'Why, Polly!' cried Jemima. 'You! what a turn you have given me! who'd have thought it! come along in Polly! How well you do look to be sure! The children will go half wild to see you Polly, that they will.'
That they did, if one might judge from the noise they made, and the way in which they dashed at Polly and dragged her to a low chair in the chimney corner, where her own honest apple face became immediately the centre of a bunch of smaller pippins, all laying their rosy70 cheeks close to it, and all evidently the growth of the same tree. As to Polly, she was full as noisy and vehement71 as the children; and it was not until she was quite out of breath, and her hair was hanging all about her flushed face, and her new christening attire72 was very much dishevelled, that any pause took place in the confusion. Even then, the smallest Toodle but one remained in her lap, holding on tight with both arms round her neck; while the smallest Toodle but two mounted on the back of the chair, and made desperate efforts, with one leg in the air, to kiss her round the corner.
'Look! there's a pretty little lady come to see you,' said Polly; 'and see how quiet she is! what a beautiful little lady, ain't she?'
This reference to Florence, who had been standing73 by the door not unobservant of what passed, directed the attention of the younger branches towards her; and had likewise the happy effect of leading to the formal recognition of Miss Nipper, who was not quite free from a misgiving3 that she had been already slighted.
'Oh do come in and sit down a minute, Susan, please,' said Polly. 'This is my sister Jemima, this is. Jemima, I don't know what I should ever do with myself, if it wasn't for Susan Nipper; I shouldn't be here now but for her.'
'Oh do sit down, Miss Nipper, if you please,' quoth Jemima.
Susan took the extreme corner of a chair, with a stately and ceremonious aspect.
'I never was so glad to see anybody in all my life; now really I never was, Miss Nipper,' said Jemima.
Susan relaxing, took a little more of the chair, and smiled graciously.
'Do untie74 your bonnet75-strings, and make yourself at home, Miss Nipper, please,' entreated76 Jemima. 'I am afraid it's a poorer place than you're used to; but you'll make allowances, I'm sure.'
The black-eyed was so softened77 by this deferential78 behaviour, that she caught up little Miss Toodle who was running past, and took her to Banbury Cross immediately.
'But where's my pretty boy?' said Polly. 'My poor fellow? I came all this way to see him in his new clothes.'
'Ah what a pity!' cried Jemima. 'He'll break his heart, when he hears his mother has been here. He's at school, Polly.'
'Gone already!'
'Yes. He went for the first time yesterday, for fear he should lose any learning. But it's half-holiday, Polly: if you could only stop till he comes home - you and Miss Nipper, leastways,' said Jemima, mindful in good time of the dignity of the black-eyed.
'And how does he look, Jemima, bless him!' faltered79 Polly.
'Well, really he don't look so bad as you'd suppose,' returned Jemima.
'Ah!' said Polly, with emotion, 'I knew his legs must be too short.'
His legs is short,' returned Jemima; 'especially behind; but they'll get longer, Polly, every day.'
It was a slow, prospective81 kind of consolation82; but the cheerfulness and good nature with which it was administered, gave it a value it did not intrinsically possess. After a moment's silence, Polly asked, in a more sprightly83 manner:
'And where's Father, Jemima dear?' - for by that patriarchal appellation84, Mr Toodle was generally known in the family.
'There again!' said Jemima. 'What a pity! Father took his dinner with him this morning, and isn't coming home till night. But he's always talking of you, Polly, and telling the children about you; and is the peaceablest, patientest, best-temperedest soul in the world, as he always was and will be!'
'Thankee, Jemima,' cried the simple Polly; delighted by the speech, and disappointed by the absence.
'Oh you needn't thank me, Polly,' said her sister, giving her a sounding kiss upon the cheek, and then dancing little Paul cheerfully. 'I say the same of you sometimes, and think it too.'
In spite of the double disappointment, it was impossible to regard in the light of a failure a visit which was greeted with such a reception; so the sisters talked hopefully about family matters, and about Biler, and about all his brothers and sisters: while the black-eyed, having performed several journeys to Banbury Cross and back, took sharp note of the furniture, the Dutch clock, the cupboard, the castle on the mantel-piece with red and green windows in it, susceptible85 of illumination by a candle-end within; and the pair of small black velvet86 kittens, each with a lady's reticule in its mouth; regarded by the Staggs's Gardeners as prodigies87 of imitative art. The conversation soon becoming general lest the black-eyed should go off at score and turn sarcastic88, that young lady related to Jemima a summary of everything she knew concerning Mr Dombey, his prospects89, family, pursuits, and character. Also an exact inventory90 of her personal wardrobe, and some account of her principal relations and friends. Having relieved her mind of these disclosures, she partook of shrimps91 and porter, and evinced a disposition92 to swear eternal friendship.
Little Florence herself was not behind-hand in improving the occasion; for, being conducted forth by the young Toodles to inspect some toad-stools and other curiosities of the Gardens, she entered with them, heart and soul, on the formation of a temporary breakwater across a small green pool that had collected in a corner. She was still busily engaged in that labour, when sought and found by Susan; who, such was her sense of duty, even under the humanizing influence of shrimps, delivered a moral address to her (punctuated with thumps) on her degenerate93 nature, while washing her face and hands; and predicted that she would bring the grey hairs of her family in general, with sorrow to the grave. After some delay, occasioned by a pretty long confidential94 interview above stairs on pecuniary95 subjects, between Polly and Jemima, an interchange of babies was again effected - for Polly had all this timeretained her own child, and Jemima little Paul - and the visitors took leave.
But first the young Toodles, victims of a pious96 fraud, were deluded97 into repairing in a body to a chandler's shop in the neighbourhood, for the ostensible98 purpose of spending a penny; and when the coast was quite clear, Polly fled: Jemima calling after her that if they could only go round towards the City Road on their way back, they would be sure to meet little Biler coming from school.
'Do you think that we might make time to go a little round in that direction, Susan?' inquired Polly, when they halted to take breath.
'Why not, Mrs Richards?' returned Susan.
'It's getting on towards our dinner time you know,' said Polly.
But lunch had rendered her companion more than indifferent to this grave consideration, so she allowed no weight to it, and they resolved to go 'a little round.'
Now, it happened that poor Biler's life had been, since yesterday morning, rendered weary by the costume of the Charitable Grinders. The youth of the streets could not endure it. No young vagabond could be brought to bear its contemplation for a moment, without throwing himself upon the unoffending wearer, and doing him a mischief99. His social existence had been more like that of an early Christian100, than an innocent child of the nineteenth century. He had been stoned in the streets. He had been overthrown into gutters101; bespattered with mud; violently flattened102 against posts. Entire strangers to his person had lifted his yellow cap off his head, and cast it to the winds. His legs had not only undergone verbal criticisms and revilings, but had been handled and pinched. That very morning, he had received a perfectly103 unsolicited black eye on his way to the Grinders' establishment, and had been punished for it by the master: a superannuated104 old Grinder of savage105 disposition, who had been appointed schoolmaster because he didn't know anything, and wasn't fit for anything, and for whose cruel cane106 all chubby107 little boys had a perfect fascination108.'
Thus it fell out that Biler, on his way home, sought unfrequented paths; and slunk along by narrow passages and back streets, to avoid his tormentors. Being compelled to emerge into the main road, his ill fortune brought him at last where a small party of boys, headed by a ferocious109 young butcher, were lying in wait for any means of pleasurable excitement that might happen. These, finding a Charitable Grinder in the midst of them - unaccountably delivered over, as it were, into their hands - set up a general yell and rushed upon him.
But it so fell out likewise, that, at the same time, Polly, looking hopelessly along the road before her, after a good hour's walk, had said it was no use going any further, when suddenly she saw this sight. She no sooner saw it than, uttering a hasty exclamation110, and giving Master Dombey to the black-eyed, she started to the rescue of her unhappy little son.
Surprises, like misfortunes, rarely come alone. The astonished Susan Nipper and her two young charges were rescued by the bystanders from under the very wheels of a passing carriage before they knew what had happened; and at that moment (it was market day) a thundering alarm of 'Mad Bull!' was raised.
With a wild confusion before her, of people running up and down, and shouting, and wheels running over them, and boys fighting, and mad bulls coming up, and the nurse in the midst of all these dangers being torn to pieces, Florence screamed and ran. She ran till she was exhausted, urging Susan to do the same; and then, stopping and wringing111 her hands as she remembered they had left the other nurse behind, found, with a sensation of terror not to be described, that she was quite alone.
'Susan! Susan!' cried Florence, clapping her hands in the very ecstasy112 of her alarm. 'Oh, where are they? where are they?'
'Where are they?' said an old woman, coming hobbling across as fast as she could from the opposite side of the way. 'Why did you run away from 'em?'
'I was frightened,' answered Florence. 'I didn't know what I did. I thought they were with me. Where are they?'
The old woman took her by the wrist, and said, 'I'll show you.'
She was a very ugly old woman, with red rims113 round her eyes, and a mouth that mumbled114 and chattered115 of itself when she was not speaking. She was miserably116 dressed, and carried some skins over her arm. She seemed to have followed Florence some little way at all events, for she had lost her breath; and this made her uglier still, as she stood trying to regain117 it: working her shrivelled yellow face and throat into all sorts of contortions118.
Florence was afraid of her, and looked, hesitating, up the street, of which she had almost reached the bottom. It was a solitary119 place - more a back road than a street - and there was no one in it but her- self and the old woman.
'You needn't be frightened now,' said the old woman, still holding her tight. 'Come along with me.'
'I - I don't know you. What's your name?' asked Florence.
'Mrs Brown,' said the old woman. 'Good Mrs Brown.'
'Are they near here?' asked Florence, beginning to be led away.
'Susan ain't far off,' said Good Mrs Brown; 'and the others are close to her.'
'Is anybody hurt?' cried Florence.
'Not a bit of it,' said Good Mrs Brown.
The child shed tears of delight on hearing this, and accompanied the old woman willingly; though she could not help glancing at her face as they went along - particularly at that industrious120 mouth - and wondering whether Bad Mrs Brown, if there were such a person, was at all like her.
They had not gone far, but had gone by some very uncomfortable places, such as brick-fields and tile-yards, when the old woman turned down a dirty lane, where the mud lay in deep black ruts in the middle of the road. She stopped before a shabby little house, as closely shut up as a house that was full of cracks and crevices121 could be. Opening the door with a key she took out of her bonnet, she pushed the child before her into a back room, where there was a great heap of rags of different colours lying on the floor; a heap of bones, and a heap of sifted122 dust or cinders123; but there was no furniture at all, and the walls and ceiling were quite black.
The child became so terrified the she was stricken speechless, and looked as though about to swoon.
'Now don't be a young mule,' said Good Mrs Brown, reviving her with a shake. 'I'm not a going to hurt you. Sit upon the rags.'
Florence obeyed her, holding out her folded hands, in mute supplication124.
'I'm not a going to keep you, even, above an hour,' said Mrs Brown. 'D'ye understand what I say?'
The child answered with great difficulty, 'Yes.'
'Then,' said Good Mrs Brown, taking her own seat on the bones, 'don't vex125 me. If you don't, I tell you I won't hurt you. But if you do, I'll kill you. I could have you killed at any time - even if you was in your own bed at home. Now let's know who you are, and what you are, and all about it.'
The old woman's threats and promises; the dread126 of giving her offence; and the habit, unusual to a child, but almost natural to Florence now, of being quiet, and repressing what she felt, and feared, and hoped; enabled her to do this bidding, and to tell her little history, or what she knew of it. Mrs Brown listened attentively127, until she had finished.
'So your name's Dombey, eh?' said Mrs Brown.
'I want that pretty frock, Miss Dombey,' said Good Mrs Brown, 'and that little bonnet, and a petticoat or two, and anything else you can spare. Come! Take 'em off.'
Florence obeyed, as fast as her trembling hands would allow; keeping, all the while, a frightened eye on Mrs Brown. When she had divested128 herself of all the articles of apparel mentioned by that lady, Mrs B. examined them at leisure, and seemed tolerably well satisfied with their quality and value.
'Humph!' she said, running her eyes over the child's slight figure, 'I don't see anything else - except the shoes. I must have the shoes, Miss Dombey.'
Poor little Florence took them off with equal alacrity129, only too glad to have any more means of conciliation130 about her. The old woman then produced some wretched substitutes from the bottom of the heap of rags, which she turned up for that purpose; together with a girl's cloak, quite worn out and very old; and the crushed remains131 of a bonnet that had probably been picked up from some ditch or dunghill. In this dainty raiment, she instructed Florence to dress herself; and as such preparation seemed a prelude132 to her release, the child complied with increased readiness, if possible.
In hurriedly putting on the bonnet, if that may be called a bonnet which was more like a pad to carry loads on, she caught it in her hair which grew luxuriantly, and could not immediately disentangle it. Good Mrs Brown whipped out a large pair of scissors, and fell into an unaccountable state of excitement.
'Why couldn't you let me be!' said Mrs Brown, 'when I was contented133? You little fool!'
'I beg your pardon. I don't know what I have done,' panted Florence. 'I couldn't help it.'
'Couldn't help it!' cried Mrs Brown. 'How do you expect I can help it? Why, Lord!' said the old woman, ruffling134 her curls with a furious pleasure, 'anybody but me would have had 'em off, first of all.' Florence was so relieved to find that it was only her hair and not her head which Mrs Brown coveted135, that she offered no resistance or entreaty136, and merely raised her mild eyes towards the face of that good soul.
'If I hadn't once had a gal137 of my own - beyond seas now- that was proud of her hair,' said Mrs Brown, 'I'd have had every lock of it. She's far away, she's far away! Oho! Oho!'
Mrs Brown's was not a melodious138 cry, but, accompanied with a wild tossing up of her lean arms, it was full of passionate139 grief, and thrilled to the heart of Florence, whom it frightened more than ever. It had its part, perhaps, in saving her curls; for Mrs Brown, after hovering140 about her with the scissors for some moments, like a new kind of butterfly, bade her hide them under the bonnet and let no trace of them escape to tempt141 her. Having accomplished142 this victory over herself, Mrs Brown resumed her seat on the bones, and smoked a very short black pipe, mowing143 and mumbling144 all the time, as if she were eating the stem.
When the pipe was smoked out, she gave the child a rabbit-skin to carry, that she might appear the more like her ordinary companion, and told her that she was now going to lead her to a public street whence she could inquire her way to her friends. But she cautioned her, with threats of summary and deadly vengeance145 in case of disobedience, not to talk to strangers, nor to repair to her own home (which may have been too near for Mrs Brown's convenience), but to her father's office in the City; also to wait at the street corner where she would be left, until the clock struck three. These directions Mrs Brown enforced with assurances that there would be potent146 eyes and ears in her employment cognizant of all she did; and these directions Florence promised faithfully and earnestly to observe.
At length, Mrs Brown, issuing forth, conducted her changed and ragged little friend through a labyrinth147 of narrow streets and lanes and alleys148, which emerged, after a long time, upon a stable yard, with a gateway149 at the end, whence the roar of a great thoroughfare made itself audible. Pointing out this gateway, and informing Florence that when the clocks struck three she was to go to the left, Mrs Brown, after making a parting grasp at her hair which seemed involuntary and quite beyond her own control, told her she knew what to do, and bade her go and do it: remembering that she was watched.
With a lighter150 heart, but still sore afraid, Florence felt herself released, and tripped off to the corner. When she reached it, she looked back and saw the head of Good Mrs Brown peeping out of the low wooden passage, where she had issued her parting injunctions; likewise the fist of Good Mrs Brown shaking towards her. But though she often looked back afterwards - every minute, at least, in her nervous recollection of the old woman - she could not see her again.
Florence remained there, looking at the bustle151 in the street, and more and more bewildered by it; and in the meanwhile the clocks appeared to have made up their minds never to strike three any more. At last the steeples rang out three o'clock; there was one close by, so she couldn't be mistaken; and - after often looking over her shoulder, and often going a little way, and as often coming back again, lest the all-powerful spies of Mrs Brown should take offence - she hurried off, as fast as she could in her slipshod shoes, holding the rabbit-skin tight in her hand.
All she knew of her father's offices was that they belonged to Dombey and Son, and that that was a great power belonging to the City. So she could only ask the way to Dombey and Son's in the City; and as she generally made inquiry152 of children - being afraid to ask grown people - she got very little satisfaction indeed. But by dint153 of asking her way to the City after a while, and dropping the rest of her inquiry for the present, she really did advance, by slow degrees, towards the heart of that great region which is governed by the terrible Lord Mayor.
Tired of walking, repulsed154 and pushed about, stunned155 by the noise and confusion, anxious for her brother and the nurses, terrified by what she had undergone, and the prospect80 of encountering her angry father in such an altered state; perplexed156 and frightened alike by what had passed, and what was passing, and what was yet before her; Florence went upon her weary way with tearful eyes, and once or twice could not help stopping to ease her bursting heart by crying bitterly. But few people noticed her at those times, in the garb157 she wore: or if they did, believed that she was tutored to excite compassion158, and passed on. Florence, too, called to her aid all the firmness and self-reliance of a character that her sad experience had prematurely159 formed and tried: and keeping the end she had in view steadily160 before her, steadily pursued it.
It was full two hours later in the afternoon than when she had started on this strange adventure, when, escaping from the clash and clangour of a narrow street full of carts and waggons161, she peeped into a kind of wharf162 or landing-place upon the river-side, where there were a great many packages, casks, and boxes, strewn about; a large pair of wooden scales; and a little wooden house on wheels, outside of which, looking at the neighbouring masts and boats, a stout163 man stood whistling, with his pen behind his ear, and his hands in his pockets, as if his day's work were nearly done.
'Now then! 'said this man, happening to turn round. 'We haven't got anything for you, little girl. Be off!'
'If you please, is this the City?' asked the trembling daughter of the Dombeys.
'Ah! It's the City. You know that well enough, I daresay. Be off! We haven't got anything for you.'
'I don't want anything, thank you,' was the timid answer. 'Except to know the way to Dombey and Son's.'
The man who had been strolling carelessly towards her, seemed surprised by this reply, and looking attentively in her face, rejoined:
'Why, what can you want with Dombey and Son's?'
'To know the way there, if you please.'
The man looked at her yet more curiously164, and rubbed the back of his head so hard in his wonderment that he knocked his own hat off.
'Joe!' he called to another man - a labourer- as he picked it up and put it on again.
'Joe it is!' said Joe.
'Where's that young spark of Dombey's who's been watching the shipment of them goods?'
'Just gone, by t'other gate,' said Joe.
'Call him back a minute.'
Joe ran up an archway, bawling165 as he went, and very soon returned
with a blithe-looking boy.
'You're Dombey's jockey, ain't you?' said the first man.
'I'm in Dombey's House, Mr Clark,' returned the boy.
'Look'ye here, then,' said Mr Clark.
Obedient to the indication of Mr Clark's hand, the boy approached towards Florence, wondering, as well he might, what he had to do with her. But she, who had heard what passed, and who, besides the relief of so suddenly considering herself safe at her journey's end, felt reassured166 beyond all measure by his lively youthful face and manner, ran eagerly up to him, leaving one of the slipshod shoes upon the ground and caught his hand in both of hers.
'I am lost, if you please!' said Florence.
'Lost!' cried the boy.
'Yes, I was lost this morning, a long way from here - and I have had my clothes taken away, since - and I am not dressed in my own now - and my name is Florence Dombey, my little brother's only sister - and, oh dear, dear, take care of me, if you please!' sobbed167 Florence, giving full vent62 to the childish feelings she had so long suppressed, and bursting into tears. At the same time her miserable bonnet falling off, her hair came tumbling down about her face: moving to speechless admiration168 and commiseration169, young Walter, nephew of Solomon Gills, Ships' Instrument-maker in general.
Mr Clark stood rapt in amazement170: observing under his breath, I never saw such a start on this wharf before. Walter picked up the shoe, and put it on the little foot as the Prince in the story might have fitted Cinderella's slipper171 on. He hung the rabbit-skin over his left arm; gave the right to Florence; and felt, not to say like Richard Whittington - that is a tame comparison - but like Saint George of England, with the dragon lying dead before him.
'Don't cry, Miss Dombey,' said Walter, in a transport of
enthusiasm.
'What a wonderful thing for me that I am here! You are as safe now as if you were guarded by a whole boat's crew of picked men from a man-of-war. Oh, don't cry.'
'I won't cry any more,' said Florence. 'I am only crying for joy.'
'Crying for joy!' thought Walter, 'and I'm the cause of it! Come along, Miss Dombey. There's the other shoe off now! Take mine, Miss Dombey.'
'No, no, no,' said Florence, checking him in the act of impetuously
pulling off his own. 'These do better. These do very well.'
'Why, to be sure,' said Walter, glancing at her foot, 'mine are a mile too large. What am I thinking about! You never could walk in mine! Come along, Miss Dombey. Let me see the villain172 who will dare molest173 you now.'
So Walter, looking immensely fierce, led off Florence, looking very happy; and they went arm-in-arm along the streets, perfectly indifferent to any astonishment that their appearance might or did excite by the way.
It was growing dark and foggy, and beginning to rain too; but they cared nothing for this: being both wholly absorbed in the late adventures of Florence, which she related with the innocent good faith and confidence of her years, while Walter listened as if, far from the mud and grease of Thames Street, they were rambling174 alone among the broad leaves and tall trees of some desert island in the tropics - as he very likely fancied, for the time, they were.
'Have we far to go?' asked Florence at last, lilting up her eyes to her companion's face.
'Ah! By-the-bye,' said Walter, stopping, 'let me see; where are we? Oh! I know. But the offices are shut up now, Miss Dombey. There's nobody there. Mr Dombey has gone home long ago. I suppose we must go home too? or, stay. Suppose I take you to my Uncle's, where I live - it's very near here - and go to your house in a coach to tell them you are safe, and bring you back some clothes. Won't that be best?'
'I think so,' answered Florence. 'Don't you? What do you think?'
As they stood deliberating in the street, a man passed them, who glanced quickly at Walter as he went by, as if he recognised him; but seeming to correct that first impression, he passed on without stopping.
'Why, I think it's Mr Carker,' said Walter. 'Carker in our House. Not Carker our Manager, Miss Dombey - the other Carker; the Junior - Halloa! Mr Carker!'
'Is that Walter Gay?' said the other, stopping and returning. 'I couldn't believe it, with such a strange companion.
As he stood near a lamp, listening with surprise to Walter's hurried explanation, he presented a remarkable175 contrast to the two youthful figures arm-in-arm before him. He was not old, but his hair was white; his body was bent, or bowed as if by the weight of some great trouble: and there were deep lines in his worn and melancholy176 face. The fire of his eyes, the expression of his features, the very voice in which he spoke177, were all subdued178 and quenched179, as if the spirit within him lay in ashes. He was respectably, though very plainly dressed, in black; but his clothes, moulded to the general character of his figure, seemed to shrink and abase180 themselves upon him, and to join in the sorrowful solicitation181 which the whole man from head to foot expressed, to be left unnoticed, and alone in his humility182.
And yet his interest in youth and hopefulness was not extinguished with the other embers of his soul, for he watched the boy's earnest countenance as he spoke with unusual sympathy, though with an inexplicable183 show of trouble and compassion, which escaped into his looks, however hard he strove to hold it prisoner. When Walter, in conclusion, put to him the question he had put to Florence, he still stood glancing at him with the same expression, as if he had read some fate upon his face, mournfully at variance184 with its present brightness.
'What do you advise, Mr Carker?' said Walter, smiling. 'You always give me good advice, you know, when you do speak to me. That's not often, though.'
'I think your own idea is the best,' he answered: looking from Florence to Walter, and back again.
'Mr Carker,' said Walter, brightening with a generous thought, 'Come! Here's a chance for you. Go you to Mr Dombey's, and be the messenger of good news. It may do you some good, Sir. I'll remain at home. You shall go.'
'I!' returned the other.
'Yes. Why not, Mr Carker?' said the boy.
He merely shook him by the hand in answer; he seemed in a manner ashamed and afraid even to do that; and bidding him good-night, and advising him to make haste, turned away.
'Come, Miss Dombey,' said Walter, looking after him as they turned away also, 'we'll go to my Uncle's as quick as we can. Did you ever hear Mr Dombey speak of Mr Carker the Junior, Miss Florence?'
'No,' returned the child, mildly, 'I don't often hear Papa speak.'
'Ah! true! more shame for him,' thought Walter. After a minute's pause, during which he had been looking down upon the gentle patient little face moving on at his side, he said, 'The strangest man, Mr Carker the Junior is, Miss Florence, that ever you heard of. If you could understand what an extraordinary interest he takes in me, and yet how he shuns185 me and avoids me; and what a low place he holds in our office, and how he is never advanced, and never complains, though year after year he sees young men passed over his head, and though his brother (younger than he is), is our head Manager, you would be as much puzzled about him as I am.'
As Florence could hardly be expected to understand much about it, Walter bestirred himself with his accustomed boyish animation186 and restlessness to change the subject; and one of the unfortunate shoes coming off again opportunely187, proposed to carry Florence to his uncle's in his arms. Florence, though very tired, laughingly declined the proposal, lest he should let her fall; and as they were already near the wooden Midshipman, and as Walter went on to cite various precedents188, from shipwrecks189 and other moving accidents, where younger boys than he had triumphantly190 rescued and carried off older girls than Florence, they were still in full conversation about it when they arrived at the Instrument-maker's door.
'Holloa, Uncle Sol!' cried Walter, bursting into the shop, and speaking incoherently and out of breath, from that time forth, for the rest of the evening. 'Here's a wonderful adventure! Here's Mr Dombey's daughter lost in the streets, and robbed of her clothes by an old witch of a woman - found by me - brought home to our parlour to rest - look here!'
'Good Heaven!' said Uncle Sol, starting back against his favourite compass-case. 'It can't be! Well, I - '
'No, nor anybody else,' said Walter, anticipating the rest. 'Nobody would, nobody could, you know. Here! just help me lift the little sofa near the fire, will you, Uncle Sol - take care of the plates - cut some dinner for her, will you, Uncle - throw those shoes under the grate. Miss Florence - put your feet on the fender to dry - how damp they are - here's an adventure, Uncle, eh? - God bless my soul, how hot I am!'
Solomon Gills was quite as hot, by sympathy, and in excessive bewilderment. He patted Florence's head, pressed her to eat, pressed her to drink, rubbed the soles of her feet with his pocket-handkerchief heated at the fire, followed his locomotive nephew with his eyes, and ears, and had no clear perception of anything except that he was being constantly knocked against and tumbled over by that excited young gentleman, as he darted191 about the room attempting to accomplish twenty things at once, and doing nothing at all.
'Here, wait a minute, Uncle,' he continued, catching192 up a candle, 'till I run upstairs, and get another jacket on, and then I'll be off. I say, Uncle, isn't this an adventure?'
'My dear boy,' said Solomon, who, with his spectacles on his forehead and the great chronometer193 in his pocket, was incessantly194 oscillating between Florence on the sofa, and his nephew in all parts of the parlour, 'it's the most extraordinary - '
'No, but do, Uncle, please - do, Miss Florence - dinner, you know, Uncle.'
'Yes, yes, yes,' cried Solomon, cutting instantly into a leg of mutton, as if he were catering195 for a giant. 'I'll take care of her, Wally! I understand. Pretty dear! Famished196, of course. You go and get ready. Lord bless me! Sir Richard Whittington thrice Lord Mayor of London.'
Walter was not very long in mounting to his lofty garret and descending67 from it, but in the meantime Florence, overcome by fatigue197, had sunk into a doze198 before the fire. The short interval199 of quiet, though only a few minutes in duration, enabled Solomon Gills so far to collect his wits as to make some little arrangements for her comfort, and to darken the room, and to screen her from the blaze. Thus, when the boy returned, she was sleeping peacefully.
'That's capital!' he whispered, giving Solomon such a hug that it squeezed a new expression into his face. 'Now I'm off. I'll just take a crust of bread with me, for I'm very hungry - and don't wake her, Uncle Sol.'
'No, no,' said Solomon. 'Pretty child.'
'Pretty, indeed!' cried Walter. 'I never saw such a face, Uncle Sol. Now I'm off.'
'That's right,' said Solomon, greatly relieved.
'I say, Uncle Sol,' cried Walter, putting his face in at the door.
'Here he is again,' said Solomon.
'How does she look now?'
'Quite happy,' said Solomon.
'That's famous! now I'm off.'
'I hope you are,' said Solomon to himself.
'I say, Uncle Sol,' cried Walter, reappearing at the door.
'Here he is again!' said Solomon.
'We met Mr Carker the Junior in the street, queerer than ever. He bade me good-bye, but came behind us here - there's an odd thing! - for when we reached the shop door, I looked round, and saw him going quietly away, like a servant who had seen me home, or a faithful dog. How does she look now, Uncle?'
'Pretty much the same as before, Wally,' replied Uncle Sol.
'That's right. Now I am off!'
And this time he really was: and Solomon Gills, with no appetite for dinner, sat on the opposite side of the fire, watching Florence in her slumber200, building a great many airy castles of the most fantastic architecture; and looking, in the dim shade, and in the close vicinity of all the instruments, like a magician disguised in a Welsh wig201 and a suit of coffee colour, who held the child in an enchanted202 sleep.
In the meantime, Walter proceeded towards Mr Dombey's house at a pace seldom achieved by a hack203 horse from the stand; and yet with his head out of window every two or three minutes, in impatient remonstrance204 with the driver. Arriving at his journey's end, he leaped out, and breathlessly announcing his errand to the servant, followed him straight into the library, we there was a great confusion of tongues, and where Mr Dombey, his sister, and Miss Tox, Richards, and Nipper, were all congregated205 together.
'Oh! I beg your pardon, Sir,' said Walter, rushing up to him, 'but I'm happy to say it's all right, Sir. Miss Dombey's found!'
The boy with his open face, and flowing hair, and sparkling eyes, panting with pleasure and excitement, was wonderfully opposed to Mr Dombey, as he sat confronting him in his library chair.
'I told you, Louisa, that she would certainly be found,' said Mr Dombey, looking slightly over his shoulder at that lady, who wept in company with Miss Tox. 'Let the servants know that no further steps are necessary. This boy who brings the information, is young Gay, from the office. How was my daughter found, Sir? I know how she was lost.' Here he looked majestically206 at Richards. 'But how was she found? Who found her?'
'Why, I believe I found Miss Dombey, Sir,' said Walter modestly, 'at least I don't know that I can claim the merit of having exactly found her, Sir, but I was the fortunate instrument of - '
'What do you mean, Sir,' interrupted Mr Dombey, regarding the boy's evident pride and pleasure in his share of the transaction with an instinctive207 dislike, 'by not having exactly found my daughter, and by being a fortunate instrument? Be plain and coherent, if you please.'
It was quite out of Walter's power to be coherent; but he rendered himself as explanatory as he could, in his breathless state, and stated why he had come alone.
'You hear this, girl?' said Mr Dombey sternly to the black-eyed. 'Take what is necessary, and return immediately with this young man to fetch Miss Florence home. Gay, you will be rewarded to-morrow.
'Oh! thank you, Sir,' said Walter. 'You are very kind. I'm sure I was not thinking of any reward, Sir.'
'You are a boy,' said Mr Dombey, suddenly and almost fiercely; 'and what you think of, or affect to think of, is of little consequence. You have done well, Sir. Don't undo208 it. Louisa, please to give the lad some wine.'
Mr Dombey's glance followed Walter Gay with sharp disfavour, as he left the room under the pilotage of Mrs Chick; and it may be that his mind's eye followed him with no greater relish209, as he rode back to his Uncle's with Miss Susan Nipper.
There they found that Florence, much refreshed by sleep, had dined, and greatly improved the acquaintance of Solomon Gills, with whom she was on terms of perfect confidence and ease. The black-eyed (who had cried so much that she might now be called the red-eyed, and who was very silent and depressed) caught her in her arms without a word of contradiction or reproach, and made a very hysterical210 meeting of it. Then converting the parlour, for the nonce, into a private tiring room, she dressed her, with great care, in proper clothes; and presently led her forth, as like a Dombey as her natural disqualifications admitted of her being made.
'Good-night!' said Florence, running up to Solomon. 'You have been very good to me.
Old Sol was quite delighted, and kissed her like her grand-father.
'Good-night, Walter! Good-bye!' said Florence.
'Good-bye!' said Walter, giving both his hands.
'I'll never forget you,' pursued Florence. 'No! indeed I never will. Good-bye, Walter!' In the innocence211 of her grateful heart, the child lifted up her face to his. Walter, bending down his own, raised it again, all red and burning; and looked at Uncle Sol, quite sheepishly.
'Where's Walter?' 'Good-night, Walter!' 'Good-bye, Walter!' 'Shake hands once more, Walter!' This was still Florence's cry, after she was shut up with her little maid, in the coach. And when the coach at length moved off, Walter on the door-step gaily212 turned the waving of her handkerchief, while the wooden Midshipman behind him seemed, like himself, intent upon that coach alone, excluding all the other passing coaches from his observation.
In good time Mr Dombey's mansion213 was gained again, and again there was a noise of tongues in the library. Again, too, the coach was ordered to wait - 'for Mrs Richards,' one of Susan's fellow-servants ominously214 whispered, as she passed with Florence.
The entrance of the lost child made a slight sensation, but not much. Mr Dombey, who had never found her, kissed her once upon the forehead, and cautioned her not to run away again, or wander anywhere with treacherous215 attendants. Mrs Chick stopped in her lamentations on the corruption216 of human nature, even when beckoned217 to the paths of virtue218 by a Charitable Grinder; and received her with a welcome something short of the reception due to none but perfect Dombeys. Miss Tox regulated her feelings by the models before her. Richards, the culprit Richards, alone poured out her heart in broken words of welcome, and bowed herself over the little wandering head as if she really loved it.
'Ah, Richards!' said Mrs Chick, with a sigh. 'It would have been much more satisfactory to those who wish to think well of their fellow creatures, and much more becoming in you, if you had shown some proper feeling, in time, for the little child that is now going to be prematurely deprived of its natural nourishment219.
'Cut off,' said Miss Tox, in a plaintive220 whisper, 'from one common fountain!'
'If it was ungrateful case,' said Mrs Chick, solemnly, 'and I had your reflections, Richards, I should feel as if the Charitable Grinders' dress would blight221 my child, and the education choke him.'
For the matter of that - but Mrs Chick didn't know it - he had been pretty well blighted222 by the dress already; and as to the education, even its retributive effect might be produced in time, for it was a storm of sobs223 and blows.
'Louisa!' said Mr Dombey. 'It is not necessary to prolong these observations. The woman is discharged and paid. You leave this house, Richards, for taking my son - my son,' said Mr Dombey, emphatically repeating these two words, 'into haunts and into society which are not to be thought of without a shudder224. As to the accident which befel Miss Florence this morning, I regard that as, in one great sense, a happy and fortunate circumstance; inasmuch as, but for that occurrence, I never could have known - and from your own lips too - of what you had been guilty. I think, Louisa, the other nurse, the young person,' here Miss Nipper sobbed aloud, 'being so much younger, and necessarily influenced by Paul's nurse, may remain. Have the goodness to direct that this woman's coach is paid to' - Mr Dombey stopped and winced225 - 'to Staggs's Gardens.'
Polly moved towards the door, with Florence holding to her dress, and crying to her in the most pathetic manner not to go away. It was a dagger226 in the haughty227 father's heart, an arrow in his brain, to see how the flesh and blood he could not disown clung to this obscure stranger, and he sitting by. Not that he cared to whom his daughter turned, or from whom turned away. The swift sharp agony struck through him, as he thought of what his son might do.
His son cried lustily that night, at all events. Sooth to say, poor Paul had better reason for his tears than sons of that age often have, for he had lost his second mother - his first, so far as he knew - by a stroke as sudden as that natural affliction which had darkened the beginning of his life. At the same blow, his sister too, who cried herself to sleep so mournfully, had lost as good and true a friend. But that is quite beside the question. Let us waste no words about it.
到了早上，波利由于顾虑重重，心中十分忐忑不安；若不是她那位黑眼睛的女伴不断怂恿，她就会断绝这次外出远走的各种念头，而改为提出正式申请，请求在董贝先生屋顶的森严的阴影下，与147号见见面。可是苏珊本人有意进行这次短途旅行；她像托尼·拉姆金①一样，能够用坚强的意志忍受另人的沮丧失意，但却决不能容忍让自己的希望落空；于是她对波利的第二种想法巧妙地提出了许多疑问，对原先的打算则巧妙地发表了许多支持的意见，所以几乎当董贝先生这位绅士一转开他庄严的后背，沿着平日的道路向城里进发的时候，他的一无所知的儿子就已经上了前往斯塔格斯花园的路了。
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①托尼·拉姆金（TonyLampkin）：英国作家奥利弗·戈德史密斯（OliverGold－smith，1728—1774）所写歌剧《屈身求爱》（SheStoopstoConquer，1771年发表）中的主人翁之一。他是个愚蠢、自私的人。
这个声音悦耳的地方座落在一个郊区，斯塔格斯花园的居民们都管它叫做坎伯林镇；有一种为了查找起来有趣和方便，印在手绢上供外地游客使用的伦敦地图，不无理由地把这个地名缩写为坎登镇。两位保姆在她们所抚养的孩子的陪伴下，就向这里走去。理查兹当然抱着保罗，苏珊则拉着小弗洛伦斯的手，而且不时在她认为对她指挥合适的时候，猛拉她一下，狠戳她一下。
这个时期发生的大地震，第一次震动就把整个地区都震裂了，一直达到它的中心。到处都可以看到地震留下的痕迹。房屋倒塌了；街道完全裂开和堵塞了；地底下被挖掘成深深的凹坑和沟渠；大堆大堆的泥土高高堆积；建筑物由于基础遭到破坏，动摇不牢，正用大根的木头支撑着。这里，翻倒在地、杂乱一团的大车横七竖八地躺在一座峻峭的非自然的小山底下；那里，珍贵的铁器毫无条理地浸泡在偶然形成的池塘中，腐蚀生锈。到处是不通向任何地方的桥梁，完全不能通行的大路，失去一半高度、像巴别塔①一样的烟囱，在最意想不到的场所临时搭建的木房子和围栏，破烂的住房的骨架，未建成的墙和拱门的断片，一堆堆的脚手架，杂乱无章的砖块，巨人般的起重机以及跨立在空处的三脚架。这里有十几万个没有完成的形状和实体，散乱地混杂在一起，上下倒立，深埋在地下，高耸在空中，腐烂在水里，像梦一样地难以理解。地震通常的伴随物——温泉和火焰喷发，对整个场景增添上一份混乱。在颓垣断壁之内，沸腾的水上下滚动，发出了嘶嘶的声音，从那里也发出了火焰的闪耀与怒号；山丘般的灰烬堵塞了来往通道，而且完全改变了本地的法律与风俗。
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①巴别塔（Babeltower）：圣经《创世纪》中的故事说：在洪水大劫之后，挪亚的子孙成群向东迁移，走到示拿地方，发现一片广袤的原野，就决定在那里住下来，并在那里建一座城，城中建一座塔，塔顶通天；不久，那塔节节升高，直入云霄。但后来耶和华变乱了他们的口音，使他们从本来只说一种语言变为说出各种各样的语言；由于语言不通，停工待料，人们逐渐走散，那座城和那座塔也就半途而废了。半途而废的原因在于语言的变乱。“变乱”一词在希伯来语中读作“巴别”，因此人们就管那座城叫巴别城，管那座塔叫巴别塔。
简单地说，尚未峻工、尚未通车的铁路正在修建中，它从极端杂乱的中心，沿着它的文明与进步的宏伟路线，平静地、慢慢地向远处延伸。
可是到现在为止，附近的居民还羞于承认这条铁路。一两个大胆的投机商已经在筹划修建街道；有一位已经动工修建了一点儿，但却在泥淖与灰烬中间停顿下来，需要再考虑考虑。有一个新开张的小酒店，店里散发着新鲜的灰浆与胶料的气味，店前只有一片空地，它已经把铁路纹章画在它的招牌上了；但这可能是个未经深思熟虑、草草创办的企业——这时它希望能卖些酒给工人喝。同样，“掘路工人之家”设在一个啤酒店里；一家开设好久的火腿与牛肉店同样由于直接的和可以受到欢迎的营利动机，已改变为铁路饮食店，每天卖出一只烤猪腿。公寓老板也同样讨人喜欢，并且由于同样原因不能受到人们的信任。人们的信心增长得很慢。在铁路线开始的地方有霉臭难闻的田野、牛棚、粪堆、垃圾堆、水沟、菜园、凉亭和敲打地毯的场地。在牡蛎季节中的牡蛎壳，在龙虾季节中的龙虾壳，在所有季节中的破碎的陶器和枯萎的卷心菜叶，像小坟般一堆一堆地侵占了铁路线的路堤。标竿、围栏、对入侵者的旧警告牌、简陋房屋的后背和长着衰败植物的地块瞪眼看着这条铁路，看得它局促不安。没有什么由于它而比过去更好，或认为比过去好。如果附近可怜的荒地能够发笑的话，那么它也会像许多可怜的邻居一样，对它冷嘲热讽一番的。
斯塔格斯花园异乎寻常地令人难以置信。这里有一小排房屋，房屋前面是一片污秽的土地；房屋与房屋之间被旧的门、楼板、涂了柏油的帆布片和枯死的矮树丛隔开，缝隙里塞上没有底的白铁壶和不堪使用的铁制火炉围栏。斯塔格斯花园的园丁们在这里栽培红豆，饲养家禽、兔子，建造简陋的凉亭（其中一个是一条旧的小船），晾晒衣服，叼着烟斗吸烟。有些人说，斯塔格斯花园是为了纪念一位已故的资本家斯塔格斯先生而命名的，这位先生建造它是为了供他消遣娱乐。另有一些生性喜爱乡村的人认为，这个名称的由来应该追溯到安逸幽静、田园诗般的那段时光，那时候称为斯塔格斯的长角的兽群常常到荫凉的效野栖身安息。不论实际情况怎么样，当地的居民们都把斯塔格斯花园看作是一个神圣的园林，不许被铁路消灭；他们深信它的寿命必定会比这类可笑的发明长得多，所以住在角落里的扫烟囱的工长（大家都认为他在花园的当地政治中坐第一把交椅）曾经当众宣布，在铁路举行通车典礼的时候（如果它有一天真能通车的话），他的两个孩子将会攀登上他的房屋的烟道，按照他的指示，嘲笑、欢呼他们想要消灭斯塔格斯花园的计划已告失败。
小保罗现在就由命运和理查兹带往这个亵渎神明的地方；董贝先生的妹妹至今还对她的哥哥隐瞒着它的名称。
“那就是我的家，苏珊，”波利指着它，说道。
“真的吗，理查兹大嫂？”苏珊谦和地说道。
“站在门口的是我的妹妹杰迈玛，准没错！”波利喊道，“她手里抱着的是我自己可爱的宝贝娃娃！”
这个情景在波利的急切难耐的心情上增添了一对十分宽阔的翅膀，因此她开始沿着花园奔跑过去，蹦跳到杰迈玛的身边，一转眼的工夫就跟她的妹妹交换了婴孩；那位年轻的姑娘大吃一惊，董贝的继承人似乎是从云霄中降落到她的怀里一样。
“啊，波利！”杰迈玛喊道。“瞧你！你真让我吓了一跳！谁可曾料得到啊！进来吧，波利！你看去气色真好！孩子们见到你准要乐疯了，准是的，波利！”
如果我们从他们发出的喧闹的声音、从他们向波利猛冲过去，把她拽到壁炉边一张矮椅子里的情景来判断的话，那么他们确实是这样的。她坐在那里，她自己那张诚实的苹果脸立刻变成了一串小苹果的中心；他们红润的脸颊全都紧挨着它，显然全都是同一株树的产物。至于波利本人，她也像孩子们一样吵吵嚷嚷，热情激动。直到她完全喘不过气来，她的头发披散到通红的脸上，她为施洗礼而缝制的新衣服被揉得很皱，这时候混乱才慢慢平息下来。甚至在这时候，第二个最小的图德尔还依旧坐在她的膝盖上，两只手紧紧地抱着她的脖子；第三个最小的图德尔则爬到椅背上；一条腿在空中摆动，作出拼命的努力，想从边角里去吻她。
“看！一位漂亮的小姐来看你们啦，”波利说道，“看她多么安静！她是个多么漂亮的小姐啊，是不是？”
这是指弗洛伦斯，她一直站在门边，不是没有注意到刚才发生的情形，这时她吸引了嫩枝们对她的注意，而且，同样幸运的是，随后波利就正式介绍尼珀；尼珀姑娘很有些担心，她已经被怠慢了。
“啊，请进来坐一会儿吧，苏珊！”波利说道。“这是我的妹妹杰迈玛，这就是。杰迈玛，要是没有苏珊·尼珀，我自己真不知道该怎么办；要是没有她，那么我现在就不会在这里啦。”
“啊，请坐吧，尼珀姑娘，”杰迈玛说道。
苏珊庄严地、十分讲究礼节地在一张椅子中的一个极小的角落里坐下。
“我这一辈子从来还没有见到谁能像现在见到您这么高兴，尼珀姑娘，真是从来没有过，”杰迈玛说道。
苏珊轻松下来，往椅子里多坐进去一点，亲切地微笑着。
“请把您的帽带解开吧，尼珀姑娘，随便些，就像到您自己家里一样，”杰迈玛请求道。“我担心您还没有住过这样破旧的地方，不过我想您一定会包涵的。”
这种表示敬意的态度使黑眼睛软化了，她把从身旁跑过去的图德尔小姑娘抱到膝盖上，立刻给她唱起到班伯里①十字架去旅行的歌曲。
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①班伯里（Banbury）：英格兰牛津郡查韦尔（Charwell）区城镇。
“可是我可爱的儿子在哪里呢？”波利问道。“我可怜的小家伙？我跑这么多的路到这里来就是想看看穿上新衣服的他呀。”
“啊，真可惜！”杰迈玛喊道。“他回来听说他妈妈曾经回家来过，一定会万分伤心的。他现在在学校里呢，波利。”
“已经到学校里去了吗？”
“是的。他昨天是头一天去的，生怕晚去就会丢掉一些功课学不上。不过今天只上半天课，波利；如果你——你和尼珀姑娘，能等到他回来就好了，”杰迈玛说道，她及时地注意照顾到黑眼睛的面子。“他看上去怎么样，杰迈玛，愿上帝保佑他！”波利结结巴巴地说道。
“唔，他看上去确实并不像你想的那么坏，”杰迈玛回答道。
“啊！”波利激动地说道，“我知道他的腿一定太短了。”
“他的腿确实是短，”杰迈玛答道，“特别是从后面看；但它们会一天天长起来的，波利。”
这个安慰是一种指望于未来的、过程缓慢的安慰；但是给予这个安慰时愉快的口吻与善良的心意使它具有一种它本来并不含有的价值。在片刻的沉默之后，波利用一种比较轻松愉快的语气问道：
“爸爸在哪里呢，亲爱的杰迈玛？”因为在家里通常都是用这个家族的称呼来指图德尔先生的。
“哎呀，你看！”杰迈玛说道，“又是真可惜！爸爸今天早上把晚饭带着走的，要到夜里才回来。不过他经常谈起你，波利，还经常把关于你的一些事情讲给孩子们听；他是世界上最和气、最耐性、脾气最好的人。他过去一直是这样，将来也将会是这样的！”
“谢谢你，杰迈玛，”纯朴的波利喊道；这番话使她高兴，可是人不在又使她失望。
“啊，你不用谢我，波利，”她的妹妹在她的脸颊上使劲地吻了一下，说道，一边兴高采烈地舞弄着小保罗。“我有时也这样说到你，心里也是这样想的。”
虽然感到双重的失望，但却不可能把受到这样热烈欢迎的一次访问看作是一次失败；所以两姐妹就满怀希望地谈起家常事务，谈到拜勒，谈到他的弟弟和妹妹们；在这段时间中，黑眼睛在到班伯里十字架去的旅行已来回了好几趟以后，就细细地观察室内的家具、荷兰钟、碗柜、壁炉台上的城堡，城堡里有红色的和绿色的窗子，里面点一根烛头就可以把它们照亮；还有一对黑色的丝绒制的小猫，每只嘴里都衔着一只贵妇人用的网状手提包，斯塔格斯花园里的人们都认为这是仿制艺术的珍品。不久，唯恐黑眼睛会突然情不自禁地说出挖苦的话来，谈话就转到大家都能参加的一般内容，于是那位年轻的姑娘就把她所知道的有关董贝先生的一切，如他的前途，他的家庭，他的事业和他的性格，都向杰迈玛简略地叙述了一番。她也详详细细、一件不漏地列举了她个人全部服装的清单，还稍稍谈到她的主要的亲戚和朋友。把这些话开诚布公地说出，不再积压在心头以后，她吃起河虾，喝起黑啤酒来，这时心情愉快，随时准备为永恒的友谊而发愿起誓。
小弗洛伦斯在利用这个机会方面也不落后。因为当小图德尔们陪伴她去看毒菌和花园里的其他新奇事物时，她和他们一起专心一意地在一个角落里由积水形成的一个绿色的小池塘中，着手修建一个临时防波堤。当她仍在忙忙碌碌地从事这项劳动时，苏珊把她寻找到了。虽然在河虾的影响下，苏珊已变得通达人情，可是她仍怀有强烈的责任感，所以她一边给弗洛伦斯洗脸洗手，一边针对她这种变坏了的品性，向她发表了一篇训诫性的谈话；她一边说，一边用拳头打她，作为标点符号，并预言她将使她全家的老人都伤心而死。波利与杰迈玛在楼上相当长久地谈了一些有关金钱方面的私房话，稍稍耽搁了一些时间；在这之后，她们就重新交换了婴孩——因为波利一直抱着她亲生的孩子，杰迈玛则抱着小保罗——，来访的人于是也告辞了。
但是首先是把年轻的图德尔们（他们是一个意向善良的骗局的牺牲品）哄骗到一个邻近的零售店里去，表面上的理由是让他们把一个便士在那里花掉。障碍一经排除，波利就拔脚逃走了；杰迈玛在她的后面大声叫喊说，她们回去时只要稍稍绕点路，沿着去城
收听单词发音 |
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deprivation
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| n.匮乏；丧失；夺去，贫困 | |
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beset
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| v.镶嵌；困扰，包围 | |
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misgiving
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| n.疑虑，担忧，害怕 | |
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misgivings
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| n.疑虑，担忧，害怕；疑虑，担心，恐惧( misgiving的名词复数 )；疑惧 | |
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incessant
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| adj.不停的，连续的 | |
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fortitude
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| n.坚忍不拔；刚毅 | |
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abide
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| vi.遵守；坚持；vt.忍受 | |
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stimulated
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| a.刺激的 | |
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euphonious
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| adj.好听的，悦耳的，和谐的 | |
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situated
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| adj.坐落在...的，处于某种境地的 | |
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commodious
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| adj.宽敞的；使用方便的 | |
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bent
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| n.爱好，癖好；adj.弯的；决心的，一心的 | |
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pokes
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| v.伸出( poke的第三人称单数 )；戳出；拨弄；与（某人）性交 | |
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wholesome
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| adj.适合；卫生的；有益健康的；显示身心健康的 | |
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trenches
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| 深沟，地沟( trench的名词复数 )； 战壕 | |
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propped
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| 支撑，支持，维持( prop的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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chaos
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| n.混乱，无秩序 | |
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overthrown
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| adj. 打翻的，推倒的，倾覆的 动词overthrow的过去分词 | |
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jumbled
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| adj.混乱的；杂乱的 | |
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unnatural
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| adj.不自然的；反常的 | |
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rusted
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| v.（使）生锈( rust的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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ragged
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| adj.衣衫褴褛的，粗糙的，刺耳的 | |
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tenements
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| n.房屋，住户，租房子( tenement的名词复数 ) | |
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wildernesses
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| 荒野( wilderness的名词复数 )； 沙漠； （政治家）在野； 不再当政（或掌权） | |
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mingled
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| 混合，混入( mingle的过去式和过去分词 )； 混进，与…交往[联系] | |
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burrowing
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| v.挖掘（洞穴），挖洞( burrow的现在分词 )；翻寻 | |
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aspiring
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| adj.有志气的；有抱负的；高耸的v.渴望；追求 | |
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mouldering
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| v.腐朽( moulder的现在分词 )；腐烂，崩塌 | |
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unintelligible
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| adj.无法了解的，难解的，莫明其妙的 | |
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fiery
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| adj.燃烧着的，火红的；暴躁的；激烈的 | |
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eruptions
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| n.喷发，爆发( eruption的名词复数 ) | |
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hissed
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| 发嘶嘶声( hiss的过去式和过去分词 )； 发嘘声表示反对 | |
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forth
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| adv.向前；向外，往外 | |
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mounds
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| 土堆，土丘( mound的名词复数 )； 一大堆 | |
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dire
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| adj.可怕的，悲惨的，阴惨的，极端的 | |
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disorder
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| n.紊乱，混乱；骚动，骚乱；疾病，失调 | |
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smoothly
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| adv.平滑地，顺利地，流利地，流畅地 | |
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mighty
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| adj.强有力的；巨大的 | |
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civilisation
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| n.文明，文化，开化，教化 | |
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tavern
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| n.小旅馆，客栈；小酒店 | |
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mortar
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| n.灰浆，灰泥；迫击炮；v.把…用灰浆涂接合 | |
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motives
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| n.动机，目的( motive的名词复数 ) | |
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immediate
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| adj.立即的；直接的，最接近的；紧靠的 | |
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favourable
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| adj.赞成的，称赞的，有利的，良好的，顺利的 | |
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frowzy
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| adj.不整洁的；污秽的 | |
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oyster
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| n.牡蛎；沉默寡言的人 | |
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lobster
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| n.龙虾，龙虾肉 | |
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countenance
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| n.脸色，面容；面部表情；vt.支持，赞同 | |
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miserable
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| adj.悲惨的，痛苦的；可怜的，糟糕的 | |
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uncommonly
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| adv. 稀罕(极，非常) | |
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scraps
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| 油渣 | |
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tarpaulin
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| n.涂油防水布，防水衣，防水帽 | |
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exhausted
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| adj.极其疲惫的，精疲力尽的 | |
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scarlet
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| n.深红色，绯红色，红衣；adj.绯红色的 | |
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fowls
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| 鸟( fowl的名词复数 )； 禽肉； 既不是这； 非驴非马 | |
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ERECTED
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| adj. 直立的，竖立的，笔直的 vt. 使 ... 直立，建立 | |
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derived
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| vi.起源；由来；衍生；导出v.得到( derive的过去式和过去分词 )；（从…中）得到获得；源于；（从…中）提取 | |
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herd
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| n.兽群，牧群；vt.使集中，把…赶在一起 | |
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denomination
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| n.命名，取名，(度量衡、货币等的)单位 | |
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grove
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| n.林子，小树林，园林 | |
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withered
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| adj. 枯萎的，干瘪的，（人身体的部分器官）因病萎缩的或未发育良好的 动词wither的过去式和过去分词形式 | |
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vent
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| n.通风口，排放口；开衩；vt.表达，发泄 | |
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ascend
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| vi.渐渐上升，升高；vt.攀登，登上 | |
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dwelling
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| n.住宅，住所，寓所 | |
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derisive
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| adj.嘲弄的 | |
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concealed
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| a.隐藏的，隐蔽的 | |
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descending
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| n. 下行 adj. 下降的 | |
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impatience
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| n.不耐烦，急躁 | |
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astonishment
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| n.惊奇，惊异 | |
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rosy
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| adj.美好的，乐观的，玫瑰色的 | |
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vehement
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| adj.感情强烈的；热烈的；(人)有强烈感情的 | |
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attire
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| v.穿衣，装扮[同]array；n.衣着；盛装 | |
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standing
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| n.持续，地位；adj.永久的，不动的，直立的，不流动的 | |
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untie
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| vt.解开，松开；解放 | |
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bonnet
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| n.无边女帽；童帽 | |
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entreated
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| 恳求，乞求( entreat的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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softened
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| （使）变软( soften的过去式和过去分词 )； 缓解打击； 缓和； 安慰 | |
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deferential
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| adj. 敬意的，恭敬的 | |
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79
faltered
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| （嗓音）颤抖( falter的过去式和过去分词 )； 支吾其词； 蹒跚； 摇晃 | |
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80
prospect
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| n.前景，前途；景色，视野 | |
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81
prospective
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| adj.预期的，未来的，前瞻性的 | |
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82
consolation
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| n.安慰，慰问 | |
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83
sprightly
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| adj.愉快的，活泼的 | |
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84
appellation
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| n.名称，称呼 | |
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85
susceptible
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| adj.过敏的，敏感的；易动感情的，易受感动的 | |
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86
velvet
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| n.丝绒，天鹅绒；adj.丝绒制的，柔软的 | |
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87
prodigies
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| n.奇才，天才（尤指神童）( prodigy的名词复数 ) | |
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88
sarcastic
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| adj.讥讽的，讽刺的，嘲弄的 | |
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89
prospects
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| n.希望，前途(恒为复数) | |
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90
inventory
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| n.详细目录，存货清单 | |
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91
shrimps
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| n.虾，小虾( shrimp的名词复数 )；矮小的人 | |
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92
disposition
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| n.性情，性格；意向，倾向；排列，部署 | |
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93
degenerate
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| v.退步，堕落；adj.退步的，堕落的；n.堕落者 | |
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94
confidential
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| adj.秘（机）密的，表示信任的，担任机密工作的 | |
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95
pecuniary
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| adj.金钱的；金钱上的 | |
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96
pious
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| adj.虔诚的；道貌岸然的 | |
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97
deluded
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| v.欺骗，哄骗( delude的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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98
ostensible
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| adj.(指理由)表面的，假装的 | |
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99
mischief
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| n.损害，伤害，危害；恶作剧，捣蛋，胡闹 | |
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100
Christian
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| adj.基督教徒的；n.基督教徒 | |
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101
gutters
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| （路边）排水沟( gutter的名词复数 )； 阴沟； （屋顶的）天沟； 贫贱的境地 | |
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102
flattened
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| [医]（水）平扁的，弄平的 | |
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103
perfectly
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| adv.完美地，无可非议地，彻底地 | |
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104
superannuated
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| adj.老朽的，退休的；v.因落后于时代而废除，勒令退学 | |
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105
savage
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| adj.野蛮的；凶恶的，残暴的；n.未开化的人 | |
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106
cane
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| n.手杖，细长的茎，藤条；v.以杖击，以藤编制的 | |
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107
chubby
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| adj.丰满的，圆胖的 | |
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108
fascination
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| n.令人着迷的事物，魅力，迷恋 | |
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109
ferocious
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| adj.凶猛的，残暴的，极度的，十分强烈的 | |
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110
exclamation
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| n.感叹号，惊呼，惊叹词 | |
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111
wringing
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| 淋湿的，湿透的 | |
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112
ecstasy
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| n.狂喜，心醉神怡，入迷 | |
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113
rims
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| n.（圆形物体的）边( rim的名词复数 )；缘；轮辋；轮圈 | |
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114
mumbled
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| 含糊地说某事，叽咕，咕哝( mumble的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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115
chattered
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| （人）喋喋不休( chatter的过去式 )； 唠叨； （牙齿）打战； （机器）震颤 | |
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116
miserably
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| adv.痛苦地；悲惨地；糟糕地；极度地 | |
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117
regain
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| vt.重新获得，收复，恢复 | |
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118
contortions
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| n.扭歪，弯曲；扭曲，弄歪，歪曲( contortion的名词复数 ) | |
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119
solitary
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| adj.孤独的，独立的，荒凉的；n.隐士 | |
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120
industrious
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| adj.勤劳的，刻苦的，奋发的 | |
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121
crevices
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| n.（尤指岩石的）裂缝，缺口( crevice的名词复数 ) | |
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122
sifted
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| v.筛( sift的过去式和过去分词 )；筛滤；细查；详审 | |
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123
cinders
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| n.煤渣( cinder的名词复数 )；炭渣；煤渣路；煤渣跑道 | |
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124
supplication
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| n.恳求，祈愿，哀求 | |
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125
vex
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| vt.使烦恼，使苦恼 | |
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126
dread
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| vt.担忧，忧虑；惧怕，不敢；n.担忧，畏惧 | |
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127
attentively
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| adv.聚精会神地；周到地；谛；凝神 | |
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128
divested
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| v.剥夺( divest的过去式和过去分词 )；脱去（衣服）；2。从…取去…；1。（给某人）脱衣服 | |
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129
alacrity
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| n.敏捷，轻快，乐意 | |
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130
conciliation
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| n.调解，调停 | |
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131
remains
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| n.剩余物，残留物；遗体，遗迹 | |
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132
prelude
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| n.序言，前兆，序曲 | |
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133
contented
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| adj.满意的，安心的，知足的 | |
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134
ruffling
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| 弄皱( ruffle的现在分词 )； 弄乱； 激怒； 扰乱 | |
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135
coveted
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| adj.令人垂涎的；垂涎的，梦寐以求的v.贪求，觊觎(covet的过去分词)；垂涎；贪图 | |
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136
entreaty
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| n.恳求，哀求 | |
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137
gal
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| n.姑娘，少女 | |
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138
melodious
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| adj.旋律美妙的，调子优美的，音乐性的 | |
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139
passionate
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| adj.热情的，热烈的，激昂的，易动情的，易怒的，性情暴躁的 | |
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140
hovering
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| 鸟( hover的现在分词 )； 靠近（某事物）； （人）徘徊； 犹豫 | |
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141
tempt
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| vt.引诱，勾引，吸引，引起…的兴趣 | |
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142
accomplished
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| adj.有才艺的；有造诣的；达到了的 | |
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143
mowing
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| n.割草，一次收割量，牧草地v.刈，割( mow的现在分词 ) | |
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144
mumbling
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| 含糊地说某事，叽咕，咕哝( mumble的现在分词 ) | |
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145
vengeance
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| n.报复，报仇，复仇 | |
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146
potent
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| adj.强有力的，有权势的；有效力的 | |
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147
labyrinth
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| n.迷宫；难解的事物；迷路 | |
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148
alleys
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| 胡同，小巷( alley的名词复数 )； 小径 | |
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149
gateway
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| n.大门口，出入口，途径，方法 | |
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150
lighter
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| n.打火机，点火器；驳船；v.用驳船运送；light的比较级 | |
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151
bustle
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| v.喧扰地忙乱，匆忙，奔忙；n.忙碌；喧闹 | |
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152
inquiry
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| n.打听，询问，调查，查问 | |
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153
dint
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| n.由于，靠；凹坑 | |
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154
repulsed
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| v.击退( repulse的过去式和过去分词 )；驳斥；拒绝 | |
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155
stunned
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| adj. 震惊的，惊讶的 动词stun的过去式和过去分词 | |
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156
perplexed
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| adj.不知所措的 | |
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157
garb
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| n.服装，装束 | |
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158
compassion
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| n.同情，怜悯 | |
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159
prematurely
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| adv.过早地，贸然地 | |
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160
steadily
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| adv.稳定地；不变地；持续地 | |
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161
waggons
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| 四轮的运货马车( waggon的名词复数 )； 铁路货车； 小手推车 | |
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162
wharf
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| n.码头，停泊处 | |
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164
curiously
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| adv.有求知欲地；好问地；奇特地 | |
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165
bawling
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| v.大叫，大喊( bawl的现在分词 )；放声大哭；大声叫出；叫卖（货物） | |
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166
reassured
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| adj.使消除疑虑的；使放心的v.再保证，恢复信心( reassure的过去式和过去分词) | |
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167
sobbed
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| 哭泣，啜泣( sob的过去式和过去分词 )； 哭诉，呜咽地说 | |
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168
admiration
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| n.钦佩，赞美，羡慕 | |
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169
commiseration
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| n.怜悯，同情 | |
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170
amazement
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| n.惊奇，惊讶 | |
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171
slipper
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| n.拖鞋 | |
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172
villain
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| n.反派演员，反面人物；恶棍；问题的起因 | |
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173
molest
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| vt.骚扰，干扰，调戏 | |
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174
rambling
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| adj.[建]凌乱的，杂乱的 | |
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175
remarkable
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| adj.显著的，异常的，非凡的，值得注意的 | |
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176
melancholy
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| n.忧郁，愁思；adj.令人感伤（沮丧）的，忧郁的 | |
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177
spoke
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| n.（车轮的）辐条；轮辐；破坏某人的计划；阻挠某人的行动 v.讲，谈（speak的过去式）；说；演说；从某种观点来说 | |
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178
subdued
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| adj. 屈服的，柔和的，减弱的 动词subdue的过去式和过去分词 | |
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179
quenched
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| 解（渴）( quench的过去式和过去分词 )； 终止（某事物）； （用水）扑灭（火焰等）； 将（热物体）放入水中急速冷却 | |
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180
abase
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| v.降低，贬抑 | |
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181
solicitation
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| n.诱惑；揽货；恳切地要求；游说 | |
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182
humility
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| n.谦逊，谦恭 | |
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183
inexplicable
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| adj.无法解释的，难理解的 | |
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184
variance
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| n.矛盾，不同 | |
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185
shuns
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| v.避开，回避，避免( shun的第三人称单数 ) | |
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186
animation
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| n.活泼，兴奋，卡通片／动画片的制作 | |
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187
opportunely
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| adv.恰好地，适时地 | |
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188
precedents
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| 引用单元； 范例( precedent的名词复数 )； 先前出现的事例； 前例； 先例 | |
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189
shipwrecks
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| 海难，船只失事( shipwreck的名词复数 )； 沉船 | |
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190
triumphantly
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| ad.得意洋洋地；得胜地；成功地 | |
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191
darted
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| v.投掷，投射( dart的过去式和过去分词 )；向前冲，飞奔 | |
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192
catching
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| adj.易传染的，有魅力的，迷人的，接住 | |
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193
chronometer
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| n.精密的计时器 | |
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194
incessantly
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| ad.不停地 | |
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195
catering
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| n. 给养 | |
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196
famished
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| adj.饥饿的 | |
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197
fatigue
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| n.疲劳，劳累 | |
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198
doze
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| v.打瞌睡；n.打盹，假寐 | |
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199
interval
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| n.间隔，间距；幕间休息，中场休息 | |
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200
slumber
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| n.睡眠，沉睡状态 | |
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201
wig
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| n.假发 | |
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202
enchanted
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| adj. 被施魔法的，陶醉的，入迷的 动词enchant的过去式和过去分词 | |
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203
hack
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| n.劈，砍，出租马车；v.劈，砍，干咳 | |
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204
remonstrance
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| n抗议，抱怨 | |
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205
congregated
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| （使）集合，聚集( congregate的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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206
majestically
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| 雄伟地； 庄重地； 威严地； 崇高地 | |
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207
instinctive
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| adj.(出于)本能的；直觉的；(出于)天性的 | |
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208
undo
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| vt.解开，松开；取消，撤销 | |
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209
relish
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| n.滋味，享受，爱好，调味品；vt.加调味料，享受，品味；vi.有滋味 | |
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210
hysterical
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| adj.情绪异常激动的，歇斯底里般的 | |
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211
innocence
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| n.无罪；天真；无害 | |
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212
gaily
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| adv.欢乐地，高兴地 | |
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213
mansion
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| n.大厦，大楼；宅第 | |
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214
ominously
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| adv.恶兆地，不吉利地；预示地 | |
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215
treacherous
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| adj.不可靠的，有暗藏的危险的；adj.背叛的，背信弃义的 | |
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216
corruption
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| n.腐败，堕落，贪污 | |
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217
beckoned
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| v.（用头或手的动作）示意，召唤( beckon的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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218
virtue
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| n.德行，美德；贞操；优点；功效，效力 | |
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219
nourishment
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| n.食物，营养品；营养情况 | |
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220
plaintive
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| adj.可怜的，伤心的 | |
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221
blight
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| n.枯萎病；造成破坏的因素；vt.破坏，摧残 | |
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222
blighted
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| adj.枯萎的，摧毁的 | |
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223
sobs
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| 啜泣（声），呜咽（声）( sob的名词复数 ) | |
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224
shudder
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| v.战粟，震动，剧烈地摇晃；n.战粟，抖动 | |
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225
winced
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| 赶紧避开，畏缩( wince的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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226
dagger
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| n.匕首，短剑，剑号 | |
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227
haughty
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| adj.傲慢的，高傲的 | |
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