for favours past.
But favours past, Polly, is never to be forgot. To them which is in
adversity, besides, your face is a cord'l. So let's have another kiss on
it, my dear. You wish no better than to do a right act, I know; and my
views is, that it's right and dutiful to do this. Good-night, Polly!'

Mrs Pipchin by this time looms dark in her black bombazeen skirts, black
bonnet, and shawl; and has her personal property packed up; and has her
chair (late a favourite chair of Mr Dombey's and the dead bargain of
the sale) ready near the street door; and is only waiting for a fly-van,
going to-night to Brighton on private service, which is to call for her,
by private contract, and convey her home.

Presently it comes. Mrs Pipchin's wardrobe being handed in and stowed
away, Mrs Pipchin's chair is next handed in, and placed in a convenient
corner among certain trusses of hay; it being the intention of the
amiable woman to occupy the chair during her journey. Mrs Pipchin
herself is next handed in, and grimly takes her seat. There is a snaky
gleam in her hard grey eye, as of anticipated rounds of buttered toast,
relays of hot chops, worryings and quellings of young children, sharp
snappings at poor Berry, and all the other delights of her Ogress's
castle. Mrs Pipchin almost laughs as the fly-van drives off, and she
composes her black bombazeen skirts, and settles herself among the
cushions of her easy chair.

The house is such a ruin that the rats have fled, and there is not one
left.

But Polly, though alone in the deserted mansion--for there is no
companionship in the shut-up rooms in which its late master hides his
head--is not alone long. It is night; and she is sitting at work in the
housekeeper's room, trying to forget what a lonely house it is, and what
a history belongs to it; when there is a knock at the hall door, as loud
sounding as any knock can be, striking into such an empty place. Opening
it, she returns across the echoing hall, accompanied by a female figure
in a close black bonnet. It is Miss Tox, and Miss Tox's eyes are red.

'Oh, Polly,' says Miss Tox, 'when I looked in to have a little lesson
with the children just now, I got the message that you left for me; and
as soon as I could recover my spirits at all, I came on after you. Is
there no one here but you?'

'Ah! not a soul,' says Polly.

'Have you seen him?' whispers Miss Tox.

'Bless you,' returns Polly, 'no; he has not been seen this many a day