e liberty of pressing for an interview, and
that he would not be so bold as to do so, for the second time (this
he underlined), if he were not equally sure of the occasion being
sufficient for his justification. After a trifling delay, Mrs Dombey's
maid appeared, and conducted him to a morning room upstairs, where Edith
and Florence were together.

He had never thought Edith half so beautiful before. Much as he admired
the graces of her face and form, and freshly as they dwelt within his
sensual remembrance, he had never thought her half so beautiful.

Her glance fell haughtily upon him in the doorway; but he looked
at Florence--though only in the act of bending his head, as he came
in--with some irrepressible expression of the new power he held; and
it was his triumph to see the glance droop and falter, and to see that
Edith half rose up to receive him.

He was very sorry, he was deeply grieved; he couldn't say with what
unwillingness he came to prepare her for the intelligence of a very
slight accident. He entreated Mrs Dombey to compose herself. Upon his
sacred word of honour, there was no cause of alarm. But Mr Dombey--

Florence uttered a sudden cry. He did not look at her, but at Edith.
Edith composed and reassured her. She uttered no cry of distress. No,
no.

Mr Dombey had met with an accident in riding. His horse had slipped, and
he had been thrown.

Florence wildly exclaimed that he was badly hurt; that he was killed!

No. Upon his honour, Mr Dombey, though stunned at first, was soon
recovered, and though certainly hurt was in no kind of danger. If this
were not the truth, he, the distressed intruder, never could have had
the courage to present himself before Mrs Dombey. It was the truth
indeed, he solemnly assured her.

All this he said as if he were answering Edith, and not Florence, and
with his eyes and his smile fastened on Edith.

He then went on to tell her where Mr Dombey was lying, and to request
that a carriage might be placed at his disposal to bring him home.

'Mama,' faltered Florence in tears, 'if I might venture to go!'

Mr Carker, having his eyes on Edith when he heard these words, gave her
a secret look and slightly shook his head. He saw how she battled with
herself before she answered him with her handsome eyes, but he wrested
the answer from her--he showed her that he would have it, or that he
would speak and cut Florence to the heart--and she gave it to him. As
he had looked at