an acquaintance with him because of Mr.
Dombey's wealth.

Bagstock (who had a habit of referring to himself as "J. B." or "Joey
B.," or almost anything but his full name) was as fat as a dancing
bear, with a purple, apoplectic-looking face, and a laugh like a horse's
cough. He was a glutton, and stuffed himself so at meals that he did
little but choke and wheeze through the latter half of them. He was a
great flatterer, however, and he flattered so well that Mr. Dombey,
blind from his own pride, thought him a very proper person indeed. And
even though everybody laughed at the major, Mr. Dombey always found him
most agreeable company.

There was an old lady at the town they visited who was poor, but very
fond of fashion and rich people. She had no heart, and was silly enough,
even though she was seventy years old, to wear rouge on her cheeks and
dress like a girl of seventeen. She had a widowed daughter, Edith
Granger, a proud, lovely woman, who despised the life her mother led,
but, in spite of this, was weak enough to be influenced by her.

Major Bagstock introduced Mr. Dombey to the mother, and the latter soon
made up her mind that her daughter should marry him. The major (who
wanted Mr. Dombey to marry so he himself could profit by the dinners and
entertainments that would follow) helped this affair on all he could,
and Edith, though at times she hated herself for the false part she was
playing, agreed to it.

To tell the truth, Mr. Dombey was so full of his own conceit that he
never stopped to wonder if Edith could really love him. She was
beautiful and as cold and haughty as he was himself, and that was all he
considered. So Major Bagstock and the old lady were soon chuckling and
wheezing together with delight at the success of their plan, and before
long Edith had promised to marry Florence's father.

Poor Florence! She had other griefs of her own by this time. Carker, of
Dombey and Son, with the false smile and the white teeth, came several
times to see her, asking if she had messages to send to her father--each
time seeming purposely to wound her by recalling her father's dislike.
She tried to like the smooth, oily manager, but there was something in
his face she could not but distrust.

To add to her trouble, the ship by which Walter Gay had sailed for the
West Indies had not yet arrived there. It was long overdue, and in the
absence of news people began to fear it had been lost. She went to the
little s