it
she seemed forced to come, although it never sought hers unless sought,
or troubled her with one single glance.

The best concluded, Mrs Skewton, affecting to lean girlishly upon the
Major's arm, but heavily supported on the other side by Flowers the
maid, and propped up behind by Withers the page, was conducted to the
carriage, which was to take her, Florence, and Edith to Brighton.

'And is Joseph absolutely banished?' said the Major, thrusting in his
purple face over the steps. 'Damme, Ma'am, is Cleopatra so hard-hearted
as to forbid her faithful Antony Bagstock to approach the presence?'

'Go along!' said Cleopatra, 'I can't bear you. You shall see me when I
come back, if you are very good.'

'Tell Joseph, he may live in hope, Ma'am,' said the Major; 'or he'll die
in despair.'

Cleopatra shuddered, and leaned back. 'Edith, my dear,' she said. 'Tell
him--'

'What?'

'Such dreadful words,' said Cleopatra. 'He uses such dreadful words!'

Edith signed to him to retire, gave the word to go on, and left the
objectionable Major to Mr Dombey. To whom he returned, whistling.

'I'll tell you what, Sir,' said the Major, with his hands behind him,
and his legs very wide asunder, 'a fair friend of ours has removed to
Queer Street.'

'What do you mean, Major?' inquired Mr Dombey.

'I mean to say, Dombey,' returned the Major, 'that you'll soon be an
orphan-in-law.'

Mr Dombey appeared to relish this waggish description of himself so very
little, that the Major wound up with the horse's cough, as an expression
of gravity.

'Damme, Sir,' said the Major, 'there is no use in disguising a fact. Joe
is blunt, Sir. That's his nature. If you take old Josh at all, you
take him as you find him; and a devilish rusty, old rasper, of a
close-toothed, J. B. file, you do find him. Dombey,' said the Major,
'your wife's mother is on the move, Sir.'

'I fear,' returned Mr Dombey, with much philosophy, 'that Mrs Skewton is
shaken.'

'Shaken, Dombey!' said the Major. 'Smashed!'

'Change, however,' pursued Mr Dombey, 'and attention, may do much yet.'

'Don't believe it, Sir,' returned the Major. 'Damme, Sir, she never
wrapped up enough. If a man don't wrap up,' said the Major, taking in
another button of his buff waistcoat, 'he has nothing to fall back upon.
But some people will die. They will do it. Damme, they will. They're
obstinate. I tell you what, Dombey, it may not be ornamental; it may not
be refined; it may be rough