mes thought of speaking to you and never been able to make my mind
up to it till last night, but last night decided of me.'

Mr Dombey, in a paroxysm of rage, made another grasp at the bell-rope
that was not there, and, in its absence, pulled his hair rather than
nothing.

'I have seen,' said Susan Nipper, 'Miss Floy strive and strive when
nothing but a child so sweet and patient that the best of women might
have copied from her, I've seen her sitting nights together half the
night through to help her delicate brother with his learning, I've
seen her helping him and watching him at other times--some well know
when--I've seen her, with no encouragement and no help, grow up to be a
lady, thank God! that is the grace and pride of every company she goes
in, and I've always seen her cruelly neglected and keenly feeling
of it--I say to some and all, I have!--and never said one word, but
ordering one's self lowly and reverently towards one's betters, is not
to be a worshipper of graven images, and I will and must speak!'

'Is there anybody there?' cried Mr Dombey, calling out. 'Where are the
men? where are the women? Is there no one there?'

'I left my dear young lady out of bed late last night,' said Susan,
nothing checked, 'and I knew why, for you was ill Sir and she didn't
know how ill and that was enough to make her wretched as I saw it did.
I may not be a Peacock; but I have my eyes--and I sat up a little in my
own room thinking she might be lonesome and might want me, and I saw her
steal downstairs and come to this door as if it was a guilty thing to
look at her own Pa, and then steal back again and go into them lonely
drawing-rooms, a-crying so, that I could hardly bear to hear it. I can
not bear to hear it,' said Susan Nipper, wiping her black eyes, and
fixing them undauntingly on Mr Dombey's infuriated face. 'It's not the
first time I have heard it, not by many and many a time you don't know
your own daughter, Sir, you don't know what you're doing, Sir, I say to
some and all,' cried Susan Nipper, in a final burst, 'that it's a sinful
shame!'

'Why, hoity toity!' cried the voice of Mrs Pipchin, as the black
bombazeen garments of that fair Peruvian Miner swept into the room.
'What's this, indeed?'

Susan favoured Mrs Pipchin with a look she had invented expressly for
her when they first became acquainted, and resigned the reply to Mr
Dombey.

'What's this?' repeated Mr Dombey, almost foaming. 'What's this, Madam