e
Major, relapsing into a mild state, 'to deliver himself up, a prey to
his own emotions; but--damme, Sir,' cried the Major, in another spasm of
ferocity, 'I condole with you!'

The Major's purple visage deepened in its hue, and the Major's lobster
eyes stood out in bolder relief, as he shook Mr Dombey by the hand,
imparting to that peaceful action as defiant a character as if it had
been the prelude to his immediately boxing Mr Dombey for a thousand
pounds a side and the championship of England. With a rotatory motion
of his head, and a wheeze very like the cough of a horse, the Major
then conducted his visitor to the sitting-room, and there welcomed him
(having now composed his feelings) with the freedom and frankness of a
travelling companion.

'Dombey,' said the Major, 'I'm glad to see you. I'm proud to see you.
There are not many men in Europe to whom J. Bagstock would say that--for
Josh is blunt. Sir: it's his nature--but Joey B. is proud to see you,
Dombey.'

'Major,' returned Mr Dombey, 'you are very obliging.'

'No, Sir,' said the Major, 'Devil a bit! That's not my character.
If that had been Joe's character, Joe might have been, by this time,
Lieutenant-General Sir Joseph Bagstock, K.C.B., and might have received
you in very different quarters. You don't know old Joe yet, I find. But
this occasion, being special, is a source of pride to me. By the Lord,
Sir,' said the Major resolutely, 'it's an honour to me!'

Mr Dombey, in his estimation of himself and his money, felt that
this was very true, and therefore did not dispute the point. But the
instinctive recognition of such a truth by the Major, and his plain
avowal of it, were very able. It was a confirmation to Mr Dombey, if
he had required any, of his not being mistaken in the Major. It was
an assurance to him that his power extended beyond his own immediate
sphere; and that the Major, as an officer and a gentleman, had a no less
becoming sense of it, than the beadle of the Royal Exchange.

And if it were ever consolatory to know this, or the like of this, it
was consolatory then, when the impotence of his will, the instability
of his hopes, the feebleness of wealth, had been so direfully impressed
upon him. What could it do, his boy had asked him. Sometimes, thinking
of the baby question, he could hardly forbear inquiring, himself, what
could it do indeed: what had it done?

But these were lonely thoughts, bred late at night in the sullen
desponden