t patiently in the churchyard, sitting on the
coping-stone of the railings, until Captain Cuttle and Susan come back,
Neither being at all desirous to speak, or to be spoken to, they are
excellent company, and quite satisfied. When they all arrive again at
the little Midshipman, and sit down to breakfast, nobody can touch a
morsel. Captain Cuttle makes a feint of being voracious about toast, but
gives it up as a swindle. Mr Toots says, after breakfast, he will come
back in the evening; and goes wandering about the town all day, with a
vague sensation upon him as if he hadn't been to bed for a fortnight.

There is a strange charm in the house, and in the room, in which they
have been used to be together, and out of which so much is gone. It
aggravates, and yet it soothes, the sorrow of the separation. Mr Toots
tells Susan Nipper when he comes at night, that he hasn't been so
wretched all day long, and yet he likes it. He confides in Susan Nipper,
being alone with her, and tells her what his feelings were when she
gave him that candid opinion as to the probability of Miss Dombey's
ever loving him. In the vein of confidence engendered by these common
recollections, and their tears, Mr Toots proposes that they shall go out
together, and buy something for supper. Miss Nipper assenting, they buy
a good many little things; and, with the aid of Mrs Richards, set the
supper out quite showily before the Captain and old Sol came home.

The Captain and old Sol have been on board the ship, and have
established Di there, and have seen the chests put aboard. They have
much to tell about the popularity of Walter, and the comforts he will
have about him, and the quiet way in which it seems he has been working
early and late, to make his cabin what the Captain calls 'a picter,'
to surprise his little wife. 'A admiral's cabin, mind you,' says the
Captain, 'ain't more trim.'

But one of the Captain's chief delights is, that he knows the big watch,
and the sugar-tongs, and tea-spoons, are on board: and again and again
he murmurs to himself, 'Ed'ard Cuttle, my lad, you never shaped a better
course in your life than when you made that there little property over
jintly. You see how the land bore, Ed'ard,' says the Captain, 'and it
does you credit, my lad.'

The old Instrument-maker is more distraught and misty than he used to
be, and takes the marriage and the parting very much to heart. But he is
greatly comforted by having his old ally, N