ly.

'It was begun,' said Carker, 'before my twenty-first birthday--led up
to, long before, but not begun till near that time. I had robbed them
when I came of age. I robbed them afterwards. Before my twenty-second
birthday, it was all found out; and then, Walter, from all men's
society, I died.'

Again his last few words hung trembling upon Walter's lips, but he could
neither utter them, nor any of his own.

'The House was very good to me. May Heaven reward the old man for his
forbearance! This one, too, his son, who was then newly in the Firm,
where I had held great trust! I was called into that room which is now
his--I have never entered it since--and came out, what you know me. For
many years I sat in my present seat, alone as now, but then a known
and recognised example to the rest. They were all merciful to me, and
I lived. Time has altered that part of my poor expiation; and I think,
except the three heads of the House, there is no one here who knows my
story rightly. Before the little boy grows up, and has it told to him,
my corner may be vacant. I would rather that it might be so! This is the
only change to me since that day, when I left all youth, and hope, and
good men's company, behind me in that room. God bless you, Walter! Keep
you, and all dear to you, in honesty, or strike them dead!'

Some recollection of his trembling from head to foot, as if with
excessive cold, and of his bursting into tears, was all that Walter
could add to this, when he tried to recall exactly what had passed
between them.

When Walter saw him next, he was bending over his desk in his old
silent, drooping, humbled way. Then, observing him at his work, and
feeling how resolved he evidently was that no further intercourse should
arise between them, and thinking again and again on all he had seen and
heard that morning in so short a time, in connexion with the history of
both the Carkers, Walter could hardly believe that he was under orders
for the West Indies, and would soon be lost to Uncle Sol, and Captain
Cuttle, and to glimpses few and far between of Florence Dombey--no, he
meant Paul--and to all he loved, and liked, and looked for, in his daily
life.

But it was true, and the news had already penetrated to the outer
office; for while he sat with a heavy heart, pondering on these things,
and resting his head upon his arm, Perch the messenger, descending from
his mahogany bracket, and jogging his elbow, begged his pardon, b