the two ladies were left alone together. Miss Tox immediately became spasmodic.
"I knew yon would admire my brother. I told yon so beforehand, my dear," said Louisa.
Miss Tox's hands and eyes expressed how much.
"And as to his property, my dear!"
"Ah!" said Miss Tox, with deep feeling.
"Im—mense!"
"But his deportment, my dear Louisa!" said Miss Tox. "His presence! His dignity! No portrait that I have ever seen of any one has been half so replete with those qnalities. Something so stately, you know: so uncompromising: so veiy wide across the chest: so upright! A pecuniaiy Duke of York, my love, and nothing short of it!" said Miss Tox, "That's what I should designate him."
"Wlhy my dear Paul!" exclaimed his sister, as he returned, "you look quite pale! There's nothing the matter?"
"I am sorry to say, Louisa, that they tell me that Fanny—"
"Now my dear Paul," returned his sister rising, "don't believe it. If you have any reliance on my experience, Paul, you may rest assured that there is nothing wanting but an effort on Fanny's part. And that effort," she continued, taking off her bonnet, and adjusting her cap and gloves, in a business-like manner, "she must be encouraged, and really, if necessary, urged to make. Now my dear Paul, come up stairs with me."
Mr. Dombey, who, besides being generally influenced by his sister for the reason already mentioned, had really faith in her as an experienced and bustling matron, acquiesced; and followed her, at once, to the sick chamber.
The lady lay upon her bed as he had left her, clasping her little daughter to her breast. The child clung close about her, with the same intensity as before, and never raised her head, or moved her soft cheek from her mother's face, or looked on those who stood around, or spoke, or moved, or shed a tear.
"Restless without the little girl," the Doctor whispered Mr. Dombey. "We found it best to have her in again."
There was such a solemn stillness round the bed; and the two medical attendants seemed to look on the impassive form with so much compassion and so little hope, that Mrs. Chick was for the moment diverted from her purpose. But presently summoning courage, and what she called presence of mind, she sat down by the bedside, and said in the low precise tone of one who endeavours to awaken a sleeper:
"Fanny! Fanny!"
There was no sound in answer but the loud ticking of Mr. Dombey's watch and Doctor Parker Peps's watch, which seemed in the silence to be running a race.
"Fanny, my dear," said Mrs. Chick, with assumed lightness, "here's Mr. Dombey come to see you. Won't you speak to him? They want to lay your little boy—the baby, Fanny, you know; you have hardly seen him yet, I think—in bed; but they can't till you rouse yourself a little. Don't you think it's time you roused yourself a little? Eh?"
She bent her ear to the bed, and listened: at the same time looking round at the bystanders, and holding up her finger.
