Page:Dombey and Son.djvu/623

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DOMBEY AND SON.

voice, and with an impatient action of her head; "try him once more, and if you fall out with him again, ruin him, if you like, and have done with him."

Mrs. Brown, moved as it seemed by this very tender exhortation, presently began to howl; and softening by degrees, took the apologetic Grinder to her arms, who embraced her with a face of unutterable woe, and like a victim as he was, resumed his former seat, close by the side of his venerable friend, whom he suffered, not without much constrained sweetness of countenance, combating very expressive physiognomical revelations of an opposite character to draw his arm through hers, and keep it there.

"And how’s Master, deary dear?" said Mrs. Brown, when, sitting in this amicable posture, they had pledged each other.

"Hush! If you’d be so good, Misses Brown, as to speak a little lower," Rob implored. "Why, he’s pretty well, thank’ee, I suppose."

"You ’re not out of place, Robby?" said Mrs. Brown, in a wheedling tone.

"Why, I’m not exactly out of place, nor in," faltered Rob. "I—I’m still in pay, Misses Brown."

"And nothing to do, Rob?"

"Nothing particular to do just now, Misses Brown, but to—keep my eyes open," said the Grinder, rolling them in a forlorn way.

"Master abroad, Rob?"

"Oh, for goodness’ sake, Misses Brown, couldn’t you gossip with a cove about anything else?" cried the Grinder, in a burst of despair.

The impetuous Mrs. Brown rising directly, the tortured Grinder detained her, stammering "Ye-es, Misses Brown, I believe he’s abroad. What’s she staring at?" he added, in allusion to the daughter, whose eyes were fixed upon the face that now again looked out behind.

"Don’t mind her, lad," said the old woman, holding him closer to prevent his turning round. "It’s her way—her way. Tell me, Rob. Did you ever see the lady, deary?"

"Oh, Misses Brown, what lady?" cried the Grinder in a tone of piteous supplication.

"What lady?" she retorted. "The lady; Mrs. Dombey."

"Yes, I believe I see her once," replied Rob.

"The night she went away, Robby, eh?" said the old woman in his ear, and taking note of every change in his face. "Aha! I know it was that night."

"Well, if you know it was that night, you know, Misses Brown," replied Rob, "it’s no use putting pinchers into a cove to make him say so."

"Where did they go that night, Rob? Straight away? How did they go? Where did you see her? Did she laugh? Did she cry? Tell me all about it," cried the old hag, holding him closer yet, patting the hand that was drawn through his arm against her other hand, and searching every line in his face with her bleared eyes. "Come! Begin! I want to be told all about it. What, Rob, boy! You and me can keep a secret together, eh? We ’ve done so before now. Where did they go first, Rob?"