t to
take leave, and would, no doubt have been a much longer time in making
up his mind to do so, if he had not been assisted by Diogenes himself,
who suddenly took it into his head to bay at Mr. Toots, and to make
short runs at him with his mouth open. Not exactly seeing his way to the
end of these demonstrations, Mr. Toot with chuckles, lapsed out of the
door, and got away.

"Come, then, Di! Dear Di! Make friends with your new mistress. Let us
love each other, Di!" said Florence, fondling his shaggy head. And Di,
the rough and gruff, as if his hairy hide were pervious to the tear that
dropped upon it, and his dog's heart melted as it fell, put his nose up
to her face and swore fidelity.

A banquet was immediately provided for him, and when he had eaten and
drunk his fill, he went to Florence, rose up on his hind legs, with his
awkward fore-paws on her shoulders, licked her face and hands, nestled
his great head against her heart, and wagged his tail till he was tired
Finally, he coiled himself up at her feet, and went to sleep.

That same night Susan Nipper told her mistress that Mr. Dombey was to
leave home the next day for a trip,--which piece of news filled Florence
with dismay, and she sat musing sadly until midnight.

She was little more than a child in years,--not yet fourteen--and the
loneliness and gloom of such an hour in the great house might have set
an older fancy brooding on vague terrors. But her innocent imagination
was too full of one theme to admit them. Nothing wandered in her thought
but love; a wandering love indeed, and cast away, but turning always to
her father.

She could not go to bed, without making her nightly pilgrimage to his
door. The moment she touched it she found that it was open, and there
was a light within. The first impulse of the timid child--and she
yielded to it--was to retire swiftly. A next, to go back, and to enter.
She turned back, urged on by the love within her, and glided in.

Her father sat at his old table, in the middle of the room. His face was
turned towards her. It looked worn and dejected, and in the loneliness
surrounding him, there was an appeal to Florence that struck home, but
when she spoke to him, the sternness of his glance and words so overcame
her that she shrank away,--and sobbing, silently ascended to her
room again.

Diogenes was broad awake, and waiting for his little mistress.

"Oh, Di! Oh, dear Di! Love me for his sake!"

Diogenes already