CHAPTER XVI.

RECOGNIZANT AND REFLECTIVE.

AMONG sundry minor alterations in Mr. Carker's life and

habits that began to take place at this time, none was more remarkable than the extraordinary diligence with which he applied himself to business, and the closeness with which he investigated every detail that the affairs of the House laid open to him. Always active and penetrating in such matters, his lynx-eyed vigilance now increased twenty-fold. Not only did bis weary watch keep pace with every present point that every day presented to him in some new form, but, in the midst of these engrossing occupations, he found leisure-that is, he made it to review the past transactions of the Firm, and his share in them, during a long series of years. Frequently, when the clerks were all gone, the offices dark and empty, and all similar places of business shut up, Mr. Carker, with the whole anatomy of the iron room laid bare before him, would explore the mysteries of books and papers, with the patient progress of a man who was dissecting the minutest nerves and fibres of his subject. Perch, the messenger, who usually remained on these occasions, to entertain himself with the perusal of the Price Current by the light of one candle, or to doze over the fire in the outer office, at the imminent risk every moment of diving head foremost into the coal-box, could not withhold the tribute of his admiration from this zealous conduct, although it much contracted his domestic enjoyments; and again and again expatiated to Mrs. Perch (now nursing twins) on the industry and acuteness of their managing gentleman in the City.

The same increased and sharp attention that Mr. Carker bestowed on the business of the House, he applied to his own personal affairs. Though not a partner in the concern-a distinction hitherto reserved solely to inheritors of the great name of Dombey-he was in the receipt of some per-centage on its dealings; and, participating in all its facilities for the employment of money to advantage, was considered, by the minnows among the tritons of the East, a rich man. It began to be said, among these shrewd observers, that Jem Carker, of Dombey's, was looking about him to see what he was worth; and that he was calling in his money at a good time, like the long-headed fellow he was; and bets were even offered on the Stock Exchange that Jem was going to marry a rich widow.

Yet these cares did not in the least interfere with Mr. Carker's watching of his chief, or with his cleanness, neatness, sleekness, or any cat-like quality he possessed. It was not so much that there was a change in him in reference to any of his habits, as that the whole man was intensified. Everything that had been observable in him before was observable now, but with a greater amount of concentration. He did each single thing as if he did nothing else—a pretty certain indication, in a man of that range of ability and purpose, that he is doing something which sharpens and keeps alive his keenest powers.

The only decided alteration in him was, that as he rode to and fro along the streets, he would fall into deep fits of musing, like that in which he had come away from Mr. Dombey's house, on the morning of that gentleman's disaster. At such times he would keep clear of the obstacles in his way mechanically; and would appear to see and hear nothing until arrival at his destination, or some sudden chance or effort roused him.

Walking his white-legged horse thus to the counting-house of Dombey and Son one day, he was as unconscious of the observation of two pairs of women's eyes, as of the fascinated orbs of Rob the Grinder, who, in waiting a street's length from the appointed place, as a demonstration of punctuality, vainly

touched and retouched his hat to attract attention, and trotted along on foot by his master's side, prepared to hold his stirrup when he should alight.

See where he goes!" cried one of these two women, an old creature, who stretched out her shrivelled arm to point him out. to her companion, a young woman, who stood close beside her, withdrawn, like herself, into a gateway.

Mrs. Brown's daughter looked out at this bidding on the part of Mrs. Brown; and there were wrath and vengeance in her face. "I never thought to look at him again," she said in a low voice; but it's well I should, perhaps. I see. I see!" "Not changed!" said the old woman, with a look of eager malice.

"He changed!" returned the other. "What for? What has he suffered? There is change enough for twenty in me. Isn't that enough?"

See where he goes!" muttered the old woman, watching her daughter with her red eyes; "so easy and so trim, a-horseback, while we are in the mud

"And of it," said her daughter impatiently.

We are mud

underneath his horse's feet. What should we be?"

In the intentness with which she looked after him again, she made a hasty gesture with her hand when the old woman began to reply, as if her view could be obstructed by mere sound. Her mother watching her, and not him, remained silent; until her kindling glance subsided, and she drew a long breath, as if in the relief of his being gone.

"Alice! Handsome

"Deary!" said the old woman then. gal! Ally!" She gently shook her sleeve to arouse her attention. "Will you let him go like that, when you can wring money from him? Why, it's a wickedness, my daughter."

"Haven't I told you that I will not have money from him?" she returned. "And don't you yet believe me? Did I take his sister's money? Would I touch a penny, if I knew it, that had gone through his white hands-unless it was, indeed, that