think that anybody here would be indifferent to a mischance or misfortune happening to the head of the House, or anything than truly sorry for it?"
"You have good reason to be bound to him too!" said the Manager, contemptuously. "Why, don’t you believe that you are kept here, as a cheap example, and a famous instance of the clemency of Dombey and Son, redounding to the credit of the illustrious House?"
"No," replied his brother, mildly, "I have long believed that I am kept here for more kind and disinterested reasons."
"But you were going," said the Manager, with the snarl of a tiger-cat, "to recite some Christian precept, I observed."
"Nay, James," returned the other, "though the tie of brotherhood between us has been long broken and thrown away"
"Who broke it, good Sir?" said the Manager.
"I, by my misconduct. I do not charge it upon you."
The Manager replied, with that mute action of his bristling mouth, "Oh, you don’t charge it upon me!" and bade him go on.
"I say, though there is not that tie between us, do not, I entreat, assail me with unnecessary taunts, or misinterpret what I say, or would say. I was only going to suggest to you that it would be a mistake to suppose that it is only you, who have been selected here, above all others, for advancement, confidence and distinction (selected, in the beginning, I know, for your great ability and trustfulness), and who communicate more freely with Mr. Dombey than any one, and stand, it may be said, on equal terms with him, and have been favoured and enriched by him—that it would be a mistake to suppose that it is only you who are tender of his welfare and reputation. There is no one in the House, from yourself down to the lowest, I sincerely believe, who does not participate in that feeling."
"You lie!" said the Manager, red with sudden anger. "You ’re a hypocrite, John Carker, and you lie."
"James!" cried the other, flushing in his turn. "What do you mean by these insulting words? Why do you so basely use them to me, unprovoked?"
"I tell you," said the Manager, "that your hypocrisy and meekness—that all the hypocrisy and meekness of this place—is not worth that to me," snapping his thumb and finger, "and that I see through it as if it were air! There is not a man employed here, standing between myself and the lowest in place (of whom you are very considerate, and with reason, for he is not far off), who wouldn’t be glad at heart to see his master humbled: who does not hate him, secretly: who does not wish him evil rather than good: and who would not turn upon him, if he had the power and boldness. The nearer to his favour, the nearer to his insolence; the closer to him, the farther from him. That’s the creed here!"
"I don’t know," said his brother, whose roused feelings had soon yielded to surprise, "who may have abused your ear with such representations; or why you have chosen to try me, rather than another. But that you have been trying me, and tampering with me, I am now sure. You have a different manner and a different aspect from any that I ever saw in you. I will only say to you, once more, you are deceived."
"I know I am," said the Manager. "I have told you so."
"Not by me," returned his brother. "By your informant, if you have one. If not, by your own thoughts and suspicions."
