loved her for his own, and did not care how much he
showed it. So he made himself vastly ridiculous by performing a variety
of uncouth bounces, and concluded, when poor Florence was at last
asleep, by scratching open her bedroom door; rolling up his bed into a
pillow; lying down on the boards at the full length of his tether with
his head toward her; and looking lazily at her, upside down, out of the
tops of his eyes, until, from winking and blinking, he fell asleep
himself, and dreamed with gruff barks, of his enemy.

About this time Walter Gay was informed by Mr. Dombey of his appointment
to a junior position in the firm's counting house in the Barbadoes. The
boy ever since he first saw Florence had thought of her with admiration
and compassion, pitying her loneliness; and now when he was about to
cross the ocean, his first thought was to seek audience with her little
maid, to tell her of his going, to say to her that his uncle had had an
interest in Miss Dombey ever since the night when she was lost, and
always wished her well and happy, and always would be proud and glad to
serve her, if she should need that service.

Upon receiving the message, Florence hastened with Susan Nipper to the
old Instrument-maker's Shop, and they passed into the parlor so suddenly
that Uncle Sol, in surprise at seeing them, sprang out of his own chair
and nearly tumbled over another, as he exclaimed, "Miss Dombey!"

"Is it possible!" cried Walter, starting up in his turn. "Here!"

"Yes," said Florence, advancing to him. "I was afraid you might be going
away, and hardly thinking of me. And, Walter, there is something I wish
to say to you before you go, and you must call me Florence, if you
please, and not speak like a stranger. My dear brother before he died
said that he was very fond of you, and said, 'remember Walter'; and if
you will be a brother to me, Walter, now that I have none on earth, I'll
be your sister all my life, and think of you like one, wherever we
may be!"

In her sweet simplicity, she held out both her hands, and Walter, taking
them, stooped down and touched the tearful face; and it seemed to him
in doing so, that he responded to her innocent appeal beside the dead
child's bed.

After Walter's departure, Florence lived alone as before, in the great
dreary house, and the blank walls looked down upon her with a vacant
stare, as if they had a Gorgon-like mind to stare her youth and beauty
into stone.

No magic dwel