rve, Sir, to His Royal Highness the late Duke of
Kent, that it was the hand of Josh: a rough and tough, and possibly an
up-to-snuff, old vagabond. Dombey, may the present moment be the least
unhappy of our lives. God bless you!'

Now enters Mr Carker, gorgeous likewise, and smiling like a
wedding-guest indeed. He can scarcely let Mr Dombey's hand go, he is so
congratulatory; and he shakes the Major's hand so heartily at the same
time, that his voice shakes too, in accord with his arms, as it comes
sliding from between his teeth.

'The very day is auspicious,' says Mr Carker. 'The brightest and most
genial weather! I hope I am not a moment late?'

'Punctual to your time, Sir,' says the Major.

'I am rejoiced, I am sure,' says Mr Carker. 'I was afraid I might be a
few seconds after the appointed time, for I was delayed by a
procession of waggons; and I took the liberty of riding round to Brook
Street'--this to Mr Dombey--'to leave a few poor rarities of flowers for
Mrs Dombey. A man in my position, and so distinguished as to be invited
here, is proud to offer some homage in acknowledgment of his vassalage:
and as I have no doubt Mrs Dombey is overwhelmed with what is costly
and magnificent;' with a strange glance at his patron; 'I hope the very
poverty of my offering, may find favour for it.'

'Mrs Dombey, that is to be,' returns Mr Dombey, condescendingly, 'will
be very sensible of your attention, Carker, I am sure.'

'And if she is to be Mrs Dombey this morning, Sir,' says the Major,
putting down his coffee-cup, and looking at his watch, 'it's high time
we were off!'

Forth, in a barouche, ride Mr Dombey, Major Bagstock, and Mr Carker, to
the church. Mr Sownds the Beadle has long risen from the steps, and
is in waiting with his cocked hat in his hand. Mrs Miff curtseys and
proposes chairs in the vestry. Mr Dombey prefers remaining in the
church. As he looks up at the organ, Miss Tox in the gallery shrinks
behind the fat leg of a cherubim on a monument, with cheeks like a young
Wind. Captain Cuttle, on the contrary, stands up and waves his hook, in
token of welcome and encouragement. Mr Toots informs the Chicken, behind
his hand, that the middle gentleman, he in the fawn-coloured pantaloons,
is the father of his love. The Chicken hoarsely whispers Mr Toots that
he's as stiff a cove as ever he see, but that it is within the resources
of Science to double him up, with one blow in the waistcoat.

Mr Sownds and Mrs