ment of infancy, and who has been extremely well connected. Her husband broke his heart in—how did you say her husband broke his heart, my dear? I forget the precise circumstances."
"In pumping water out of the Peruvian Mines," replied Miss Tox.
"Not being a Pumper himself, of course," said Mrs. Chick, glancing at her brother; and it really did seem necessary to offer the explanation, for Miss Tox had spoken of him as if he had died at the handle; "but having invested money in the speculation, which failed. I believe that Mrs Pipchin’s management of children is quite astonishing. I have heard it commended in private circles ever since I was—dear me—how high!" Mrs Chick’s eye wandered about the bookcase near the bust of Mr. Pitt, which was about ten feet from the ground.
"Perhaps I should say of Mrs. Pipchin, my dear Sir," observed Miss Tox, with an ingenuous blush, "having been so pointedly referred to, that the encomium which has been passed upon her by your sweet sister is well merited. Many ladies and gentleman, now grown up to be interesting members of society, have been indebted to her care. The humble individual who addresses you was once under her charge. I believe juvenile nobility itself is no stranger to her establishment."
"Do I understand that this respectable matron keeps an establishment, Miss Tox?" the Mr. Dombey, condescendingly.
"Why, I really don’t know," rejoined that lady, "whether I am justified in calling it so. It is not a Preparatory School by any means. Should I express my meaning," said Miss Tox, with peculiar sweetness, "if I designated it an infantine Boarding-House of a very select description?"
"On an exceedingly limited and particular scale," suggested Mrs. Chick, with a glance at her brother.
"Oh! Exclusion itself!" said Miss Tox.
There was something in this. Mrs Pipchin’s husband having broken his heart of the Peruvian mines was good. It had a rich sound. Besides, Mr. Dombey was in a state almost amounting to consternation at the idea of Paul remaining where he was one hour after his removal had been recommended by the medical practitioner. It was a stoppage and delay upon the road the child must traverse, slowly at the best, before the goal was reached. Their recommendation of Mrs Pipchin had great weight with him; for he knew that they were jealous of any interference with their charge, and he never for a moment took it into account that they might be solicitous to divide a responsibility, of which he had, as shown just now, his own established views. Broke his heart of the Peruvian mines, mused Mr. Dombey. Well! a very respectable way of doing it.
"Supposing we should decide, on to-morrow’s inquiries, to send Paul down to Brighton to this lady, who would go with him?" inquired Mr. Dombey, after some reflection.
"I don’t think you could send the child anywhere at present without Florence, my dear Paul," returned his sister, hesitating. "It’s quite an infatuation with him. He’s very young, you know, and has his fancies."
Mr. Dombey turned his head away, and going slowly to the bookcase, and unlocking it, brought back a book to read.
"Anybody else, Louisa?" he said, without looking up, and turning over the leaves.
"Wickam, of course. Wickam would be quite sufficient, I should say,’
