"You have almost forgotten me, sir, I dare say?' said Miss Tox to Mr. Toodle.

“No, ma'am, no, said Toodle. "But we've all on us got a little older since then."

"And how do you find yourself, sir?" inquired Miss Tox, blandly.

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66 "How Hearty, ma'am, thankee," replied Toodle. do you find yourself ma'am. Do the rheumaticks keep off pretty well, ma'am? We must all expect to grow into 'em, as we gets on."

"Thank you," said Miss Tox. "I have not felt any inconvenience from that disorder yet."

"You're wery fortunate, ma'am," returned Mr. Toodle, "Many people at your time of life, ma'am, is martyrs to it. There was my mother" but catching his wife's eye here, Mr. Toodle judiciously buried the rest in another mug of tea.

"You never mean to say, Mrs. Richards," cried Miss Tox, looking at Rob, "that that is your-”

"Eldest, ma'am," said Polly. "Yes, indeed, it is. That's the little fellow, ma'am, that was the innocent cause of so much."

"This here, ma'am," said Toodle, "is him with the short legs-and they was," said Mr. Toodle, with a touch of poetry in his tone, "unusual short for leathers-as Mr. Dombey made a Grinder on."

The recollection almost overpowered Miss Tox. The subject of it had a peculiar interest for her directly. She asked him to shake hands, and congratulated his mother on his frank, ingenuous face. Rob, overhearing her, called up a look, to justify the eulogium, but it was hardly the right look.

"And now, Mrs. Richards," said Miss Tox,-"and you too, sir," addressing Toodle-"I'll tell you, plainly and truly, what I have come here for. You may be aware, Mrs. Richards--and, possibly you may be aware too, sir-that a little distance has interposed itself between me and some of my friends, and that where I used to visit a good deal I do not visit now."

Polly, who, with a woman's tact, understood this at once, expressed as much in a little look. Mr. Toodle, who had not the faintest idea what Miss Tox was talking about, expressed that also, in a stare.

"Of course," said Miss Tox, "how our little coolness

has arisen is of no moment, and does not require to be discussed. It is sufficient for me to say, that I have the greatest possible respect for, and interest in, Mr. Dombey;" Miss Tox's voice faltered; "and everything that relates to him."

Mr. Toodle, enlightened, shook his head, and said he had heerd it said, and, for his own part, he did think, as Mr. Dombey was a difficult subject.

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'Pray_don't say so, sir, if you please," returned Miss Tox. "Let me entreat you not to say so, sir, either now, or at any future time. Such observations cannot but be very painful to me; and to a gentleman, whose mind is constituted as I am quite sure yours is, can afford no permanent satisfaction."

Mr. Toodle, who had not entertained the least doubt of offering a remark that would be received with acquiescence, was greatly confounded.

"All that I wish to say, Mrs. Richards," resumed Miss Tox,-“ and I address myself to you, too, sir,—is this. That any intelligence of the proceedings of the family, of the welfare of the family, of the health of the family, that reaches you, will be always most acceptable to me. That I shall be always very glad to chat with Mrs. Richards about the family, and about old times. And as Mrs. Richards and I never had the least difference (though I could wish now that we had been better acquainted, but I have no one but myself to blame for that), I hope she will not object to our being very good friends now, and to my coming backwards and forwards here, when I like, without being a stranger. Now I really hope Mrs. Richards," said Miss Tox, earnestly, "that you will take this, as I mean it, like a good-humored creature as you always were."

Polly was gratified, and showed it. Mr. Toodle didn't know whether he was gratified or not, and preserved a stolid calmness.

"You see, Mrs. Richards," said Miss Tox-" and I hope you see too, sir-there are many little ways in which I can be slightly useful to you if you will make no stranger of me; and in which I shall be delighted to be so. For instance, I can teach your children something. I shall bring a few little books if you'll allow me, and some work, and of an evening now and then,

they'll learn-dear me, they'll learn a great deal, I trust, and be a credit to their teacher."

Mr. Toodle, who had a great respect for learning, jerked his head approvingly at his wife, and moistened his hands with dawning satisfaction.

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Then, not being a stranger, I shall be in nobody's way," said Miss Tox, "and everything will go on just as if I were not here. Mrs. Richards will do her mending, or her ironing, or her nursing, whatever it is, without minding me: and you'll smoke your pipe, too, if you're so disposed, sir, won't you?"

"Thank'ee mum," said Mr. Toodle. "Yes; I'll take my bit of backer."

Very good of you to say so, sir," rejoined Miss Tox, "and I really do assure you now, unfeignedly, that it will be a great comfort to me, and that whatever good I may be fortunate enough to do the children, you will more than pay back to me if you'll enter into this little bargain comfortably, and easily and good-naturedly, without another word about it."

The bargain was ratified on the spot; and Miss Tox found herself so much at home already that without delay she instituted a preliminary examination of the children all round-which Mr. Toodle much admiredand booked their ages, names, and acquirements, on a piece of paper. This ceremony, and a little attendant gossip, prolonged the time until after their usual hour of going to bed, and detained Miss Tox at the Toodle fireside until it was too late for her to walk home alone. The gallant Grinder, however, being still there, politely offered to attend her to her own door; and as it was something to Miss Tox to be seen home by a youth whom Mr. Dombey had first inducted into those manly garments which are rarely mentioned by name she very readily accepted the proposal.

After shaking hands with Mr. Toodle and Polly, and kissing all the children, Miss Tox left the house, therefore, with unlimited popularity, and carrying away with her so light a heart that it might have given Mrs. Chick offence if that good lady could have weighed it.

Rob the Grinder, in his modesty, would have walked behind, but Miss Tox desired him to keep beside her, for conversational purposes; and, as she afterwards expressed it to his mother "drew him out" upon the road.

He drew out so bright, and clear, and shining, that Miss Tox was charmed with him. The more Miss Tox drew him out, the finer he came-like wire. There never was a better or more promising youth-a more affectionate, steady, prudent, sober, honest, meek, candid young man-than Rob drew out that night.

I am quite glad," said Miss Tox, arrived at her own door, "to know you. I hope you'll consider me your friend, and that you'll come and see me as often as you like. Do you keep a money-box?"

"Yes, ma'am," returned Rob; "I'm saving up against I've got enough to put in the Bank, ma'am." "Very laudable indeed," said Miss Tox. "I'm glad to hear it. Put this half-crown into it, if you please. "Oh thank you, ma'am," replied Rob, "but really I couldn't think of depriving you.'

"I commend your independent spirit," said Miss Tox, "but it's no deprivation, I assure you. I shall be offended if you don't take it, as a mark of my good will. Good night, Robin.”

"Good night, ma'am," said Rob, "and thank you!" Who ran sniggering off to get change, and tossed it away with a pieman. But they never taught honor at the Grinders' School, where the system that prevailed was particularly strong in the engendering of hypocrisy. Insomuch that many of the friends and masters of past Grinders said, if this were what came of education for the common people let us have none. Some more rationally said let us have a better one. But the governing powers of the Grinders' Company were always ready for them, by picking out a few boys who had turned out well, in spite of the system, and roundly asserting that they could have only turned out well because of it. Which settled the business of those objectors out of hand, and established the glory of the Grinders' Institution.

CHAPTER IX.

FURTHER ADVENTURES OF CAPTAIN EDWARD CUTTLE, MARINER.

TIME, sure of foot and strong of will, had so pressed onward that the year enjoined by the old Instrumentmaker as the term during which his friend should refrain from opening the sealed packet accompanying the letter he had left for him was now nearly expired, and Captain Cuttle began to look at it of an evening with feelings of mystery and uneasiness.

The captain, in his honor, would as soon have thought of opening the parcel one hour before the expiration of the term as he would have thought of opening himself to study his own anatomy. He merely brought it out, at a certain stage of his first evening pipe, laid it on the table, and sat gazing at the outside of it, through the smoke, in silent gravity, for two or three hours at a spell. Sometimes, when he had contemplated it thus for a pretty long while, the captain would hitch his chair, by degrees, farther and farther off, as if to get beyond the range of its fascination; but if this were his design, he never succeeded: for even when he was brought up by the parlor wall the packet still attracted him; or if his eyes, in thoughtful wandering, roved to the ceiling or the fire, its image immediately followed, and posted itself conspicuously among the coals, or took up an advantageous position on the whitewash.

In respect of Heart's Delight, the captain's parental regard and admiration knew no change. But, since his last interview with Mr. Carker, Captain Cuttle had come to entertain doubts whether his former intervention in behalf of that young lady and his dear boy Wal'r had proved altogether so favorable as he could have wished, and as he at the time believed. The captain was troubled with a serious misgiving that he had done more harm than good, in short; and in his remorse and modesty he made the best atonement he could think of, by putting himself out of the way of doing any harm to any one, and, as it were, throwing himself overboard for a dangerous person.

Self-buried, therefore, among the instruments, the