t leave me! be near me! I have no hope but in you! These words she
said a score of times.

Soon she grew calmer, and was full of pity for the tears of Florence,
and for her waking at such untimely hours. And the day now dawning, with
folded her in her arms and laid her down upon her bed, and, not lying
down herself, sat by her, and bade her try to sleep.

'For you are weary, dearest, and unhappy, and should rest.'

'I am indeed unhappy, dear Mama, tonight,' said Florence. 'But you are
weary and unhappy, too.'

'Not when you lie asleep so near me, sweet.'

They kissed each other, and Florence, worn out, gradually fell into a
gentle slumber; but as her eyes closed on the face beside her, it was
so sad to think upon the face downstairs, that her hand drew closer
to Edith for some comfort; yet, even in the act, it faltered, lest it
should be deserting him. So, in her sleep, she tried to reconcile the
two together, and to show them that she loved them both, but could not
do it, and her waking grief was part of her dreams.

Edith, sitting by, looked down at the dark eyelashes lying wet on the
flushed cheeks, and looked with gentleness and pity, for she knew the
truth. But no sleep hung upon her own eyes. As the day came on she still
sat watching and waking, with the placid hand in hers, and sometimes
whispered, as she looked at the hushed face, 'Be near me, Florence. I
have no hope but in you!'

CHAPTER 44. A Separation

With the day, though not so early as the sun, uprose Miss Susan Nipper.
There was a heaviness in this young maiden's exceedingly sharp black
eyes, that abated somewhat of their sparkling, and suggested--which
was not their usual character--the possibility of their being sometimes
shut. There was likewise a swollen look about them, as if they had been
crying over-night. But the Nipper, so far from being cast down, was
singularly brisk and bold, and all her energies appeared to be braced
up for some great feat. This was noticeable even in her dress, which was
much more tight and trim than usual; and in occasional twitches of her
head as she went about the house, which were mightily expressive of
determination.

In a word, she had formed a determination, and an aspiring one: it being
nothing less than this--to penetrate to Mr Dombey's presence, and
have speech of that gentleman alone. 'I have often said I would,' she
remarked, in a threatening manner, to herself, that morning, with many
twitches