is always drest here, in black silk; but this bride wore merino of
that colour, observing to her mother when she bought it (the old lady is
82, and works on the farm), 'You know, mother, I am sure to want
mourning for you, soon; and the same gown will do.'"[119]

Meanwhile, day by day, he was steadily moving on with his first number;
feeling sometimes the want of streets in an "extraordinary nervousness
it would be hardly possible to describe," that would come upon him after
he had been writing all day; but at all other times finding the repose
of the place very favourable to industry. "I am writing slowly at first,
of course" (5th of July), "but I hope I shall have finished the first
number in the course of a fortnight at farthest. I have done the first
chapter, and begun another. I say nothing of the merits thus far, or of
the idea beyond what is known to you; because I prefer that you should
come as fresh as may be upon them. I shall certainly have a great
surprise for people at the end of the fourth number;[120] and I think
there is a new and peculiar sort of interest, involving the necessity of
a little bit of delicate treatment whereof I will expound my idea to you
by and by. When I have done this number, I may take a run to Chamounix
perhaps. . . . My thoughts have necessarily been called away from the
Christmas book. The first _Dombey_ done, I think I should fly off to
that, whenever the idea presented itself vividly before me. I still
cherish the Battle fancy, though it is nothing but a fancy as yet." A
week later he told me that he hoped to finish the first number by that
day week or thereabouts, when he should then run and look for his
Christmas book in the glaciers at Chamounix. His progress to this point
had been pleasing him. "I think _Dombey_ very strong--with great
capacity in its leading idea; plenty of character that is likely to
tell; and some rollicking facetiousness, to say nothing of pathos. I
hope you will soon judge of it for yourself, however; and I know you
will say what you think. I have been very constantly at work." Six days
later I heard that he had still eight slips to write, and for a week had
put off Chamounix.

But though the fourth chapter yet was incomplete, he could repress no
longer the desire to write to me of what he was doing (18th of July). "I
think the general idea of _Dombey_ is interesting and new, and has great
material in it. But I don't like to discuss it with you till yo