that his mother’s past connexion with Mr. Dombey’s family had nothing to do with it, and that Mr. Dombey had nothing to do with it, but that he, Mr. Carker, was the be-all and the end-all of this business. Taking great credit to himself for his goodness, and receiving no less from all the family then present, Mr. Carker signified, indirectly but still pretty plainly, that Rob’s implicit fidelity, attachment, and devotion, were for evermore his due, and the least homage he could receive. And with this great truth Rob himself was so impressed, that, standing gazing on his patron with tears rolling down his cheeks, he nodded his shiny head until it seemed almost as loose as it had done under the same patron’s hands that morning.
Polly, who had passed Heaven knows how many sleepless nights on account of this her dissipated firstborn, and had not seen him for weeks and weeks, could have almost kneeled to Mr. Carker the Manager, as to a Good Spirit—in spite of his teeth. But Mr. Carker rising to depart, she only thanked him with her mother’s prayers and blessings; thanks so rich when paid out of the Heart’s mint, especially for any service Mr. Carker had rendered, that he might have given back a large amount of change, and yet been overpaid.
As that gentleman made his way among the crowding children to the door, Rob retreated on his mother, and took her and the baby in the same repentant hug.
"I ’ll try hard, dear mother, now. Upon my soul I will!" said Rob.
"Oh do, my dear boy! I am sure you will, for our sakes and your own!" cried Polly, kissing him. "But you ’re coming back to speak to me, when you have seen the gentleman away?"
"I don’t know, mother." Rob hesitated, and looked down. "Father—when’s he coming home?"
"Not till two o’clock to-morrow morning."
"I ’ll come back, mother dear!’ cried Rob. And passing through the shrill cry of his brothers and sisters in reception of this promise, he followed Mr. Carker out.
"What!" said Mr. Carker, who had heard this. "You have a bad father, have you?"
"No Sir!" returned Rob, amazed. "There ain’t a better nor a kinder father going, than mine is."
"Why don’t you want to see him then?" inquired his patron.
"There’s such a difference between a father and a mother Sir," said Rob, after faltering for a moment. "He couldn’t hardly believe yet that I was doing to do better—though I know he’d try to—but a mother—she always believes what’s good, Sir; at least, I know my mother does, God bless her!"
Mr. Carker’s mouth expanded, but he said no more until he was mounted on his horse, and had dismissed the man who held it, when, looking down from the saddle steadily into the attentive and watchful face of the boy, he said:
"You ’ll come to me tomorrow morning, and you shall be shown where that old gentleman lives; that old gentleman who was with me this morning; where you are going, as you heard me say."
"Yes Sir," returned Rob.
"I have a great interest in that old gentleman, and in serving him, you serve me, boy, do you understand? Well," he added, interrupting him,
