"Oh, very well, uncle," said the boy merrily. "Since you have introduced
the mention of her, and have said that I know all about her, I shall
make bold to amend the toast. So,--here's to Dombey--and Son--and
Daughter!"

Meanwhile, in Mr. Dombey's mansion, baby Paul was thriving under the
watchful care of Polly Richards, Mr. Dombey, and Mr. Dombey's friends,
and the day of his christening arrived. On that important occasion, the
baby's excitement was so great that no one could soothe him until
Florence was summoned. As she hid behind her nurse, he followed her with
his eyes; and when she peeped out with a merry cry to him, he sprang up
and crowed lustily--laughing outright when she ran in upon him, and
seeming to fondle her curls with his tiny hands while she smothered him
with kisses.

Was Mr. Dombey pleased to see this? He did not show it. If any sunbeam
stole into the room to light the children at their play, it never
reached his face. He looked on so coldly that the warm light vanished,
even from the laughing eyes of little Florence when, at last, they
happened to meet his.

The contemplation of Paul in his christening robe made his nurse yearn
for a sight of her own first-born, although this was a pleasure strictly
forbidden by Mr. Dombey's orders. But the longing so overpowered her
that she consulted Miss Nipper as to the possibility of gratifying it,
and that young woman, eager herself for an expedition, urged Polly to
visit her home. So, the next morning the two nurses set out together:
Richards carrying Paul, and Susan leading little Florence by the hand,
and giving her such jerks and pokes as she considered it wholesome to
administer. Then for a brief half-hour, Polly enjoyed the longed-for
pleasure of being again in the bosom of her family, but the visit had a
sad ending, for on the way back, passing through a crowded thoroughfare
the little party became separated. A thundering alarm of Mad Bull! was
raised. With a wild confusion 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 until she was exhausted,
then found with a sensation of terror not to be described, that she was
quite alone.

"Susan! Susan!" cried Florence. "Oh, where are they?"

"Where are they?" said an old woman, hobbling across from the opposite
side of the road. "W