"This man! You speak," said her mother, "as if you hated him."
"And you thought I loved him, did you not?" she answered, stopping on her way across the room, and looking round. "Shall I tell you," she continued, with her eyes fixed on her mother, "who already knows us thoroughly, and reads us right, and before whom I have even less of self-respect or confidence than before my own inward self; being so much degraded by his knowledge of me?"
"This is an attack, I suppose," returned her mother coldly, "on poor, unfortunate what’s-his-name—Mr. Carker! Your want of self-respect and confidence, my dear, in reference to that person (who is very agreeable, it strikes me), is not likely to have much effect on your establishment. Why do you look at me so hard? Are you ill?"
Edith suddenly let fall her face, as if it had been stung, and while she pressed her hands upon it, a terrible tremble crept over her whole frame. It was quickly gone; and with her usual step, she passed out of the room.
The maid who should have been a skeleton, then re-appeared, and giving one arm to her mistress, who appeared to have taken off her manner with her charms, and to have put on paralysis with her flannel gown, collected the ashes of Cleopatra, and carried them away in the other, ready for to-morrow’s revivification.
CHAPTER XXVIII.
ALTERATIONS.
"So the day has come at length, Susan," said Florence to the excellent Nipper, "when we are going back to our quiet home!"
Susan drew in her breath with an amount of expression not easily described, further relieving her feelings with a smart cough, answered, "Very quiet indeed, Miss Floy, no doubt. Excessive so."
"When I was a child," said Florence, thoughtfully, and after musing for some moments, "did you ever see that gentleman who has taken the trouble to ride down here to speak to me, now three times—three times, I think, Susan?"
"Three times, Miss," returned the Nipper. "Once when you was out a walking with them Sket—"
Florence gently looked at her, and Miss Nipper checked herself.
"With Sir Barnet and his lady, I mean to say, Miss, and the young gentleman. And two evenings since then."
"When I was a child, and when company used to come to visit Papa, did you ever see that gentleman at home, Susan?’ asked Florence.
"Well, Miss," returned her maid, after considering, "I really couldn’t say I ever did. When your poor dear Ma died, Miss Floy, I was very new in the family, you see, and my element:" the Nipper bridled, as opining that her merits had been always designedly extinguished by Mr. Dombey: "was the floor below the attics."
"To be sure," said Florence, still thoughtfully; "you are not likely to have known who came to the house. I quite forgot."
"Not, Miss, but what we talked about the family and visitors," said
