squeezed a new expression into his face. "Now I’m off. I ’ll just take a crust of bread with me, for I’m very hungry—and don’t wake her, uncle Sol."
"No, no," said Solomon. "Pretty child."
"Pretty, indeed!" cried Walter. "I never saw such a face, Uncle Sol. Now I’m off."
"That’s right," said Solomon, greatly relieved.
"I say, uncle Sol," cried Walter, putting his face in at the door.
"Here he is again," said Solomon.
"How does she look now?"
"Quite happy," said Solomon.
"That’s famous! now I’m off."
"I hope you are," said Solomon to himself.
"I say, uncle Sol," cried Walter, reappearing at the door.
"Here he is again!" said Solomon.
"We met Mr. Carker the junior in the street, queerer than ever. He bade me good bye, but came behind us here—there’s an odd thing!—for when we reached the shop door, I looked round, and saw him going quietly away, like a servant who had seen me home, or a faithful dog. How does she look now, uncle?"
"Pretty much the same as before, Wally," replied uncle Sol.
"That’s right. Now I am off!"
And this time he really was: and Solomon Gills, with no appetite for dinner, sat on the opposite side of the fire, watching Florence in her slumber, building a great many airy castles of the most fantastic architecture; and looking, in the dim shade, and in the close vicinity of all the instruments, like a magician disguised in a Welsh wig and a suit of coffee colour, who held the child in an enchanted sleep.
In the mean time, Walter proceeded towards Mr. Dombey’s house at a pace seldom achieved by a hack horse from the stand; and yet with his head out of window every two or three minutes, in impatient remonstrance with the driver. Arriving at his journey’s end, he leaped out, and breathlessly announcing his errand to the servant, followed him straight into the library, where there was a great confusion of tongues, and where Mr. Dombey, his sister, and Miss Tox, Richards, and Nipper, were all congregated together.
"Oh! I beg your pardon, Sir," said Walter, rushing up to him, "but I’m happy to say it’s all right, Sir. Miss Dombey’s found!"
The boy with his open face, and flowing hair, and sparkling eyes, panting with pleasure and excitement, was wonderfully opposed to Mr. Dombey, as he sat confronting him in his library chair.
"I told you, Louisa, that she would certainly be found," said Mr. Dombey, looking slightly over his shoulder at that lady, who wept in company with Miss Tox. "Let the servants know that no further steps are necessary. This boy who brings the information, is young Gay, from the office. How was my daughter found, Sir? I know how she was lost." Here he looked majestically at Richards. "But how was she found? who found her?"
"Why, I believe I found Miss Dombey, Sir," said Walter modestly, "at least I don’t know that I can claim the merit of having exactly found her, Sir, but I was the fortunate instrument of—"
"What do you mean, Sir," interrupted Mr. Dombey, regarding the