girl,' said Mrs Chick, 'and if my brother Paul
cannot feel perfectly comfortable in her society, after all the sad
things that have happened, and all the terrible disappointments that
have been undergone, then, what is the reply? That he must make an
effort. That he is bound to make an effort. We have always been a family
remarkable for effort. Paul is at the head of the family; almost the
only representative of it left--for what am I--I am of no consequence--'

'My dearest love,' remonstrated Miss Tox.

Mrs Chick dried her eyes, which were, for the moment, overflowing; and
proceeded:

'And consequently he is more than ever bound to make an effort. And
though his having done so, comes upon me with a sort of shock--for mine
is a very weak and foolish nature; which is anything but a blessing I am
sure; I often wish my heart was a marble slab, or a paving-stone--

'My sweet Louisa,' remonstrated Miss Tox again.

'Still, it is a triumph to me to know that he is so true to himself, and
to his name of Dombey; although, of course, I always knew he would be.
I only hope,' said Mrs Chick, after a pause, 'that she may be worthy of
the name too.

Miss Tox filled a little green watering-pot from a jug, and happening
to look up when she had done so, was so surprised by the amount of
expression Mrs Chick had conveyed into her face, and was bestowing upon
her, that she put the little watering-pot on the table for the present,
and sat down near it.

'My dear Louisa,' said Miss Tox, 'will it be the least satisfaction to
you, if I venture to observe in reference to that remark, that I, as a
humble individual, think your sweet niece in every way most promising?'
'What do you mean, Lucretia?' returned Mrs Chick, with increased
stateliness of manner. 'To what remark of mine, my dear, do you refer?'

'Her being worthy of her name, my love,' replied Miss Tox.

'If,' said Mrs Chick, with solemn patience, 'I have not expressed
myself with clearness, Lucretia, the fault of course is mine. There
is, perhaps, no reason why I should express myself at all, except the
intimacy that has subsisted between us, and which I very much hope,
Lucretia--confidently hope--nothing will occur to disturb. Because, why
should I do anything else? There is no reason; it would be absurd. But
I wish to express myself clearly, Lucretia; and therefore to go back
to that remark, I must beg to say that it was not intended to relate to
Florence, in any way.'