Captain Cuttle, who would wish to be security too. I—I hardly like to mention," said Walter, "such earnings as mine; but if you would allow them—accumulate—payment—advance—uncle—frugal, honourable, old man." Walter trailed off, through these broken sentences, into silence: and stood with downcast head, before his employer.
Considering this a favourable moment for the display of the valuables, Captain Cuttle advanced to the table; and clearing a space among the breakfast-cups at Mr. Dombey’s elbow, produced the silver watch, the ready money, the teaspoons, and the sugar-tongs; and piling them up into a heap that they might look as precious as possible, delivered himself of these words:
"Half a loaf’s better than no bread, and the same remark holds good with crumbs. There’s a few. Annuity of one hundred pound premium also ready to be made over. If there is a man chock full of science in the world, it’s old Sol Gills. If there is a lad of promise—one flowing," added the Captain, in one of his happy quotations, "with milk and honey—it’s his nevy!"
The Captain then withdrew to his former place, where he stood arranging his scattered locks with the air of a man who had given the finishing touch to a difficult performance.
When Walter ceased to speak, Mr. Dombey’s eyes were attracted to little Paul, who, seeing his sister hanging down her head and silently weeping in her commiseration for the distress she had heard described, went over to her, and tried to comfort her: looking at Walter and his father as he did so, with a very expressive face. After the momentary distraction of Captain Cuttle’s address, which he regarded with lofty indifference, Mr. Dombey again turned his eyes upon his son, and sat steadily regarding the child, for some moments, in silence.
"What was this debt contracted for?" asked "Dombey, at length. "Who is the creditor?"
"He don’t know," replied the Captain, putting his hand on Walter’s shoulder. "I do. It came of helping a man that’s dead now, and that’s cost my friend Gills many a hundred pound already. More particulars in private, if agreeable."
"People who have enough to do to hold their own way," said Mr. Dombey, unobservant of the Captain’s mysterious signs behind Walter, and still looking at his son, "had better be content with their own obligations and difficulties, and not increase them by engaging for other men. It is an act of dishonesty and presumption, too, Mr. said Mr. Dombey, sternly; "great presumption; for the wealthy could do no more. Paul, come here!"
The child obeyed: and Mr. Dombey took him on his knee.
"If you had money now—" said Mr. Dombey. "Look at me!"
Paul, whose eyes had wandered to his sister, and to Walter, looked his father in the face.
"If you had money now,’ said Mr. Dombey; "as much money as young Gay has talked about; what would you do?"
"Give it to his old uncle," returned Paul.
"Lend it to his old uncle, eh?" retorted Mr. Dombey. "Well! When you are old enough, you know, you will share my money, and we shall use it together."
"Dombey and Son," interrupted Paul, who had been tutored early in the phrase.
