bling of a coach for
many hours together, while he lay upon the seat, with Florence still
beside him, and old Mrs Pipchin sitting opposite. He remembered his old
bed too, when they laid him down in it: his aunt, Miss Tox, and Susan:
but there was something else, and recent too, that still perplexed him.

'I want to speak to Florence, if you please,' he said. 'To Florence by
herself, for a moment!'

She bent down over him, and the others stood away.

'Floy, my pet, wasn't that Papa in the hall, when they brought me from
the coach?'

'Yes, dear.'

'He didn't cry, and go into his room, Floy, did he, when he saw me
coming in?'

Florence shook her head, and pressed her lips against his cheek.

'I'm very glad he didn't cry,' said little Paul. 'I thought he did.
Don't tell them that I asked.'

CHAPTER 15. Amazing Artfulness of Captain Cuttle, and a new Pursuit for
Walter Gay

Walter could not, for several days, decide what to do in the Barbados
business; and even cherished some faint hope that Mr Dombey might not
have meant what he had said, or that he might change his mind, and tell
him he was not to go. But as nothing occurred to give this idea (which
was sufficiently improbable in itself) any touch of confirmation, and as
time was slipping by, and he had none to lose, he felt that he must act,
without hesitating any longer.

Walter's chief difficulty was, how to break the change in his affairs to
Uncle Sol, to whom he was sensible it would be a terrible blow. He
had the greater difficulty in dashing Uncle Sol's spirits with such an
astounding piece of intelligence, because they had lately recovered
very much, and the old man had become so cheerful, that the little back
parlour was itself again. Uncle Sol had paid the first appointed portion
of the debt to Mr Dombey, and was hopeful of working his way through
the rest; and to cast him down afresh, when he had sprung up so manfully
from his troubles, was a very distressing necessity.

Yet it would never do to run away from him. He must know of it
beforehand; and how to tell him was the point. As to the question of
going or not going, Walter did not consider that he had any power of
choice in the matter. Mr Dombey had truly told him that he was young,
and that his Uncle's circumstances were not good; and Mr Dombey had
plainly expressed, in the glance with which he had accompanied that
reminder, that if he declined to go he might stay at home if he chose,
b