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of emotion: "I speak to you now, that you may understand us better, and rely more on us. A woman's anger is pretty much the same here as in your fine house. I am angry. I have been so many years. I have as good cause for my anger as you have for yours, and its object is the same man."

He started, in spite of himself, and looked at her with astonishment.

"Yes," she said, with a kind of laugh. "Wide as the distance may seem between us, it is so. How it is so, is no matter; that is my story, and I keep my story to myself. I would bring you and him together, because I have a rage against him. My mother there is avaricious and poor; and she would sell any tidings she could glean, or any thing, or any body, for money. It is fair enough, perhaps, that you should pay her some, if she can help you to what you want to know. But that is not my motive. I have told you what mine is, and it would be as strong and all-sufficient with me if you haggled and bargained with her for a sixpence. I have done. My saucy tongue says no more, if you wait here till sunrise to-morrow."

The old woman, who had shown great uneasiness during this speech, which had a tendency to depreciate her expected gains, pulled Mr. Dombey softly by the sleeve, and whispered to him not to mind her. He glanced at them both by turns with a haggard look, and said, in a deeper voice than was usual with him:

"Go on-what do you know?”

"Oh, not so fast, your worship! we must wait for some one," answered the old woman. "It's to be got from some one else-wormed out-screwed and twisted from him."

"What do you mean ?" said Mr. Dombey.

"Patience," she croaked, laying her hand, like a claw, upon his arm. "Patience. I'll get at it. I know I can! If he was to hold it back from me," said good Mrs. Brown, crooking her ten fingers, “I'd tear it out of him!"

Mr. Dombey followed her with his eyes as she hobbled to the door, and looked out again, and then his glance sought her daughter; but she remained impassive, silent, and regardless of him.

"Do you tell me, woman," he said, when the bent figure of Mrs. Brown came back, shaking its head and chattering to itself, "that there is another person expected here ?"

"Yes!" said the old woman, looking up into his face and nodding.

"From whom you are to exact the intelligence that is to be useful to me?"

"Yes," said the old woman, nodding again. "A stranger?"

"Chut!" said the old woman, with a shrill laugh. "What signifies! Well, well; no. No stranger to your worship. But he won't see you. He'd be afraid of you, and wouldn't talk. You'll stand behind that door, and judge him for yourself. We don't ask to be believed on trust. What! Your worship doubts the room behind the door? Oh, the suspicion of you rich gentlefolks! Look at it, then."

Her sharp eye had detected an involuntary expression of this feeling on his part, which was not unreasonable under the circumstances. In satisfaction

of it, she now took the candle to the door she spoke of. Mr. Dombey looked in; assured himself that it was an empty, crazy room; and signed to her to put the light back in its place.

"How long," he asked," before this person comes ?" "Not long," she answered. "Would your worship sit down for a few odd minutes?"

He made no answer; but began pacing the room with an irresolute air, as if he were undecided whether to remain or depart, and as if he had some quarrel with himself for being there at all. But soon his tread grew slower and heavier, and his face more sternly thoughtful: as the object with which he had come fixed itself in his mind, and dilated there again.

While he thus walked up and down with his eyes on the ground, Mrs. Brown, in the chair from which she had risen to receive him, sat listening anew. The monotony of his step, or the uncertainty of age, made her so slow of hearing, that a footfall without had sounded in her daughter's ears for some moments, and she had looked up hastily to warn her mother of its approach, before the old woman was roused by it. But then she started from her seat, and whispering "Here he is!" hurried her visitor to his place of observation, and put a bottle and glass upon the table, with such alacrity as to be ready to fling her arms round the neck of Rob the Grinder on his appearance at the door.

"And here's my bonny boy," cried Mrs. Brown, "at last!-oho, oho! You're like my own son, Robby!"

"Oh! Misses Brown!" remonstrated the Grinder. "Don't! Can't you be fond of a cove without squeedging and throttling of him! Take care of the bird-cage in my hand, will you?"

"Thinks of a bird-cage afore me!" cried the old woman, apostrophizing the ceiling. "Me that feels more than a mother for him!"

"Well, I'm sure I'm very much obliged to yon, Misses Brown," said the unfortunate youth, greatly aggravated; "but you're so jealous of a cove. I'm very fond of you myself, and all that, of course; but I don't smother you, do I, Misses Brown?"

He looked and spoke as if he would have been far from objecting to do so, however, on a favorable occasion.

"And to talk about bird-cages, too!" whimpered the Grinder. "As if that was a crime! Why, lookee here! Do you know who this belongs to ?"

"To Master, dear?” said the old woman, with a grin.

"Ah!” replied the Grinder, lifting a large cage tied up in a wrapper on the table, and untying it with his teeth and hands. "It's our parrot, this is."

"Mr. Carker's parrot, Rob?"

"Will you hold your tongue, Misses Brown?” returned the goaded Grinder. "What do you go nam

ing names for? I'm blest," said Rob, pulling his hair with both hands, in the exasperation of his feelings, "if she ain't enough to make a cove run wild!" "What! Do you snub me, thankless boy!" cried the old woman, with ready vehemence.

"Good gracious, Misses Brown, no!" returned the Grinder, with tears in his eyes. "Was there ever such a! Don't I dote upon you, Misses Brown ?"

"Do you, sweet Rob? Do you truly, chickabiddy?" With that Mrs. Brown held him in her fond

"To cut me off with his short answers and his sulky words," said the old woman. "Me! Because I happen to be curious to have a little bit of gossip about Master and the lady, to dare to play at fast and loose with me! But I'll talk to you no more, my lad. Now go!"

"I'm sure, Misses Brown," returned the abject Grinder, "I never insiniwated that I wished to go. Don't talk like that, Misses Brown, if you please."

"I won't talk at all," said Mrs. Brown, with an action of her crooked fingers that made him shrink into half his natural compass in the corner. "Not another word with him shall pass my lips. He's an

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in a ring of some four feet in diameter, constantly repeating these words, and shaking her fist above her head, and working her mouth about.

"Misses Brown," pleaded Rob, coming a little out of his corner, "I'm sure you wouldn't injure a cove, on second thoughts, and in cold blood, would you?" "Don't talk to me," said Mrs. Brown, still wrathfully pursuing her circle. "Now let him go, now let him go!"

"Misses Brown," urged the tormented Grinder, "I didn't mean to Oh, what a thing it is for a cove to get into such a line as this!-I was only careful of talking, Misses Brown, because I always am, on

ungrateful hound. I cast him off. Now let him go! And I'll slip those after him that shall talk too much; that won't be shook away; that'll hang to him like leeches, and slink arter him like foxes. What! He knows 'em. He knows his old games and his old ways. If he's forgotten 'em, they'll soon remind him. Now let him go, and see how he'll do Master's business, and keep Master's secrets, with such company always following him up and down. Ha, ha, ha! He'll find 'em a different sort from you and me, Ally, close as he is with you and me. Now let him go, now let him go!"

The old woman, to the unspeakable dismay of the Grinder, walked her twisted figure round and round,

account of his being up to every thing; but I might have known it wouldn't have gone any farther. I'm sure I'm quite agreeable," with a wretched face, "for any little bit of gossip, Misses Brown. Don't go on like this, if you please. Oh, couldn't you have the goodness to put in a word for a miserable cove, here!" said the Grinder, appealing in desperation to the daughter.

"Come, mother, you hear what he says," she interposed, in her stern voice, and with an impatient action of her head; "try him once more, and if you fall out with him again, ruin him, if you like, and have done with him."

Mrs. Brown, moved as it seemed by this very ten

der exhortation, presently began to howl; and softening by degrees, took the apologetic Grinder to her arms, who embraced her with a face of unutterable woe, and, like a victim as he was, resumed his former seat, close by the side of his venerable friend, whom he suffered, not without much constrained sweetness of countenance, combating very expressive physiognomical revelations of an opposite character, to draw his arm through hers, and keep it there.

"And how's Master, deary dear ?" said Mrs. Brown, when, sitting in this amicable posture, they had pledged each other.

"Hush! If you'd be so good, Misses Brown, as to speak a little lower," Rob implored. "Why, he's pretty well, thankee, I suppose."

"What do you say?" asked the old woman, with a grin.

"I'm wishing my love to you, Misses Brown," returned the false Rob, seeking consolation in the glass. "Where did they go to first, was it? Him and her, do you mean?"

"Ah!" said the old woman, eagerly. "Them two." "Why, they didn't go nowhere-not together, I mean," answered Rob.

The old woman looked at him as though she had a strong impulse upon her to make another clutch at his head and throat, but was restrained by a certain dogged mystery in his face.

"Why, I'm not exactly out of place, nor in," faltered Rob. "I-I'm still in pay, Misses Brown." "And nothing to do, Rob?"

"Nothing particular to do just now, Misses Brown, but to keep my eyes open," said the Grinder, rolling them in a forlorn way.

"Master abroad, Rob?"

"Oh, for goodness' sake, Misses Brown, couldn't you gossip with a cove about any thing else!" cried the Grinder, in a burst of despair.

The impetuous Mrs. Brown rising directly, the tortured Grinder detained her, stammering "Ye-es, Misses Brown, I believe he's abroad. What's she staring at?" he added, in allusion to the daughter, whose eyes were fixed upon the face that now again looked out behind him.

"Don't mind her, lad," said the old woman, holding him closer to prevent his turning round. "It's her way-her way. Tell me, Rob. Did you ever see the lady, deary?"

"Oh, Misses Brown, what lady?" cried the Grinder, in a tone of piteous supplication.

"What lady?" she retorted. "The lady; Mrs. Dombey."

"Yes, I believe I see her once," replied Rob.

"The night she went away, Robby, eh?" said the old woman in his ear, and taking note of every change in his face. "Aha! I know it was that night."

"Well, if you know it was that night, you know, Misses Brown," replied Rob, "it's no use putting pinchers into a cove to make him say so."

"Where did they go that night, Rob? Straight away? How did they go? Where did you see her? Did she laugh? Did she cry? Tell me all about it," cried the old hag, holding him closer yet, patting the hand that was drawn through his arm against her other hand, and searching every line in his face with her bleared eyes. "Come! Begin! I want to be told all about it. What, Rob, boy! You and me can keep a secret together, eh? We've done so before now. Where did they go first, Rob?"

The wretched Grinder made a gasp, and a pause. "Are you dumb?" said the old woman, angrily. "Lord, Misses Brown, no! You expect a cove to be a flash of lightning. I wish I was the electric fluency," muttered the bewildered Grinder. “I'd have a shock at somebody, that would settle their business."

ways, I tell you, Misses Brown."

"Ay, ay, ay! To meet at an appointed place," chuckled the old woman, after a moment's silent and keen scrutiny of his face.

"Why, if they weren't agoing to meet somewhere, I suppose they might as well have staid at home, mightn't they, Misses Brown?" returned the unwilling Grinder.

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draw.

"Well, Rob? Well?" said the old woman, ing his arm yet tighter through her own, as if, in her eagerness, she were afraid of his slipping away. 'What, haven't we talked enough yet, Misses Brown?" returned the Grinder, who, between his sense of injury, his sense of liquor, and his sense of being on the rack, had become so lachrymose, that at almost every answer he scooped his coat-cuff into one or other of his eyes, and uttered an unavailing whine of remonstrance. "Did she laugh that night, was it? Didn't you ask if she laughed, Misses Brown?"

"Or cried?" added the old woman, nodding assent. "Neither," said the Grinder. "She kept as steady when she and me-oh, I see you will have it out of me, Misses Brown! But take your solemn oath now that you'll never tell any body."

This Mrs. Brown very readily did: being naturally Jesuitical; and having no other intention in the matter than that her concealed visitor should hear for himself.

"She kept as steady, then, when she and me went down to Southampton," said the Grinder, "as a image. In the morning she was just the same, Misses Brown. And when she went away in the packet before daylight, by herself-me pretending to be her servant, and seeing her safe aboard-she was just the same. Now, are you contented, Mrs. Brown ?"

"No, Rob. Not yet," answered Mrs. Brown, decisively.

"Oh, here's a woman for you!" cried the unfortunate Rob, in an outburst of feeble lamentation over his own helplessness. "What did you wish to know next, Misses Brown?"

"What became of Master? Where did he go?" she inquired, still holding him tight, and looking close into his face with her sharp eyes.

"Upon my soul, I don't know, Misses Brown," answered Rob. "Upon my soul, I don't know what he did, nor where he went, nor any thing about him. I only know what he said to me as a caution to hold my tongue, when we parted; and I tell you this,

Misses Brown, as a friend, that sooner than ever repeat a word of what we're saying now, you had better take and shoot yourself, or shut yourself up in this house, and set it afire, for there's nothing he wouldn't do to be revenged upon you. You don't know him half as well as I do, Misses Brown. You're never safe from him, I tell you."

"Haven't I taken an oath," retorted the old woman, "and won't I keep it ?"

"Well, I'm sure I hope you will, Misses Brown," returned Rob, somewhat doubtfully, and not without a latent threatening in his manner. "For your own sake quite as much as mine."

He looked at her as he gave her this friendly caution, and emphasized it with a nodding of his head; but finding it uncomfortable to encounter the yellow face with its grotesque action, and the ferret eyes with their keen old wintry gaze, so close to his own, he looked down uneasily and sat shuffling in his chair, as if he were trying to bring himself to a sullen declaration that he would answer no more questions. The old woman, still holding him as before, took this opportunity of raising the forefinger of her right hand in the air, as a stealthy signal to the concealed observer to give particular attention to what was about to follow.

Rob," she said, in her most coaxing tone. "Good gracious, Misses Brown, what's the matter now?" returned the exasperated Grinder.

"Rob! where did the lady and Master appoint to meet ?"

Rob shuffled more and more, and looked up and looked down, and bit his thumb, and dried it on his waistcoat, and finally said, eying his tormentor askant, "How should I know, Misses Brown?"

The old woman held up her finger again as before, and replying, "Come, lad! It's no use leading me to that, and there leaving me. I want to know"waited for his answer.

Rob, after a discomfited pause, suddenly broke out with, "How can I pronounce the names of foreign places, Misses Brown? What an unreasonable woman you are!"

"But you have heard it said, Robby," she retorted firmly, "and you know what it sounded like. Come!"

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it. If I was to tell you how I found out this word, you'd believe that. Shall I tell you, Misses Brown?" "Yes, Rob."

"Well, then, Misses Brown. The way-now you won't ask any more, you know?" said Rob, turning his eyes, which were now fast getting drowsy and stupid, upon her.

"Not another word," said Mrs. Brown.

"Well, then, the way was this. When a certain person left the lady with me, he put a piece of paper with a direction written on it in the lady's hand, saying it was in case she should forget. She wasn't afraid of forgetting, for she tore it up as soon as his back was turned, and when I put up the carriage steps, I shook out one of the pieces-she sprinkled the rest out of the window, I suppose, for there was none there afterward, though I looked for 'em. There was only one word on it, and that was this, if you must and will know. But remember! You're upon your oath, Misses Brown!"

Mrs. Brown knew that, she said. Rob, having nothing more to say, began to chalk, slowly and laboriously, on the table.

“D," the old woman read aloud, when he had formed the letter.

"Will you hold your tongue, Misses Brown?" he exclaimed, covering it with his hand, and turning impatiently upon her, "I won't have it read out. Be quiet, will you!"

"Then write large, Rob," she returned, repeating her secret signal; "for my eyes are not good, even at print."

Muttering to himself, and returning to his work with an ill-will, Rob went on with the word. As he bent his head down, the person for whose information he so unconsciously labored moved from the door behind him to within a short stride of his shoulder, and looked eagerly toward the creeping track of his hand upon the table. At the same time, Alice, from her opposite chair, watched it narrowly as it shaped the letters, and repeated each one on her lips as he made it, without articulating it aloud. At the end of every letter her eyes and Mr. Dombey's met, as if each of them sought to be confirmed by the other; and thus they both spelled D. I. J. O. N. "There!" said the Grinder, moistening the palm

content with smearing it out, rubbing and planing

Rob, with a petulant exclamation between laughing and crying-for he was penetrated with some admiration of Mrs. Brown's cunning, even through this persecution-after some reluctant fumbling in his waistcoat-pocket, produced from it a little piece of chalk. The old woman's eyes sparkled when she saw it between his thumb and finger, and hastily clearing a space on the deal table, that he might write the word there, she once more made her signal with a shaking hand.

"Now I tell you beforehand what it is, Misses Brown," said Rob, "it's no use asking me any thing else. I won't answer any thing else; I can't. How long it was to be before they met, or whose plan it was that they was to go away alone, I don't know no more than you do. I don't know any more about

very color of the chalk was gone from the table. Now I hope you're contented, Misses Brown!"

The old woman, in token of her being so, released his arm and patted his back; and the Grinder, overcome with mortification, cross-examination, and liquor, folded his arms on the table, laid his head upon them, and fell asleep.

Not until he had been heavily asleep some time, and was snoring roundly, did the old woman turn toward the door, where Mr. Dombey stood concealed, and beckon him to come through the room and pass out. Even then she hovered over Rob, ready to blind him with her hands, or strike his head down, if he should raise it while the secret step was crossing to the door. But though her glance took sharp cognizance of the sleeper, it was sharp too for the waking man; and when he touched her hand with