uncommon handsome? The information Mrs. Miff has received being of this nature, Mr. Sownds the beadle, who, though orthodox and corpulent, is still an admirer of female beauty, observes, with unction, Yes, he hears she is a spanker-an expression that seems somewhat forcible to Mrs. Miff, or would from any lips but those of Mr. Sownds the beadle.

In Mr. Dombey's house, at this same time, there is great stir and bustle, more especially among the women: not one of whom has had a wink of sleep since four o'clock, and all of whom were full dressed before six. Mr. Towlinson is an object of greater consideration than usual to the housemaid, and the cook says at breakfast-time that one wedding makes many, which the housemaid can't believe, and don't think true at all. Mr. Towlinson reserves his sentiments on this question; being rendered something gloomy by the engagement of a foreigner with whiskers (Mr. Towlinson is whiskerless himself), who has been hired to accompany the happy pair to Paris, and who is busy packing the new chariot. In respect of this personage, Mr. Towlinson admits, presently, that he never knew of any good that ever come of foreigners; and being charged by the ladies with prejudice, says, Look at Bonaparte, who was at the head of 'em, and see what he was always up to! Which the housemaid says is very true.

The pastrycook is hard at work in the funereal room in Brook Street, and the very tall young men are busy looking on. One of the very tall young men already smells of sherry, and his eyes have a tendency to become fixed in his head, and to stare at objects without seeing them. is conscious of this failing in himself; and informs his comrade. that it's his "exciseman.” The very tall young man would say excitement, but his speech is hazy.

The very tall young man

The men who play the bells have got scent of the marriage; and the marrow-bones and cleavers too; and a brass band too. The first are practising in a back-settlement near Battle Bridge; the second put themselves in communication, through their

chief, with Mr. Towlinson, to whom they offer terms to be bought off; and the third, in the person of an artful trombone, lurks and dodges round the corner, waiting for some traitor tradesman to reveal the place and hour of breakfast for a bribe. Expectation and excitement extend further yet, and take a wider range. From Balls Pond Mr. Perch brings Mrs. Perch to spend the day with Mr. Dombey's servants, and accompany them, surreptitiously, to see the wedding. In Mr. Toots's lodgings, Mr. Toots attires himself as if he were at least the bridegroom: determined to behold the spectacle in splendour from a secret corner of the gallery, and thither to convey the Chicken. For it is Mr. Toots's desperate intent to point out Florence to the Chicken, then and there, and openly to say, Now, Chicken, I will not deceive you any longer; the friend I have sometimes mentioned to you is myself; Miss Dombey is the object of my passion; what are your opinions, Chicken, in this state of things, and what, on the spot, do you advise?" The so-much-to-be-astonished Chicken, in the meanwhile, dips his beak into a tankard of strong beer in Mr. Toots's kitchen, and pecks up two pounds of beef-steaks. In Princess's Place, Miss Tox is up and doing; for she too, though in sore distress, is resolved to put a shilling in the hands of Mrs. Miff, and see the ceremony, which has a cruel fascination for her, from some lonely corner. The quarters of the Wooden Midshipman are all alive; for Captain Cuttle, in his ankle-jacks and with a huge shirt collar, is seated at his breakfast, listening to Rob the Grinder as he reads the marriage service to him beforehand, under orders, to the end that the captain may perfectly understand the solemnity he is about to witness: for which purpose the captain gravely lays injunctions on his chaplain, from time to time, to "put about," or to "overhaul that 'ere article again," or to stick to his own duty, and leave the Amens to him, the captain; one of which he repeats, whenever a pause is made by Rob the Grinder, with sonorous satisfaction.

Besides all this, and much more, twenty nursery-maids in

Mr. Dombey's street alone have promised twenty families of little women, whose instinctive interest in nuptials dates from their cradles, that they shall go and see the marriage. Truly, Mr. Sownds the beadle has good reason to feel himself in office, as he suns his portly figure on the church steps, waiting for the marriage hour. Truly Mrs. Miff has cause to pounce on an unlucky dwarf child, with a giant baby, who giant baby, who peeps in at the porch, and drive her forth with indignation!

Cousin Feenix has come over from abroad expressly to attend the marriage. Cousin Feenix was a man about town forty years ago; but he is still so juvenile in figure and in manner, and so well got up, that strangers are amazed when they discover latent wrinkles in his lordship's face, and crows' feet in his eyes; and when they first observe him, not exactly certain, as he walks across a room, of going quite straight to where he wants to go. But Cousin Feenix, getting up at half-past seven o'clock or so, is quite another thing from Cousin Feenix got up and very dim indeed he looks while being shaved at Long's Hotel, in Bond Street.

Mr. Dombey leaves his dressing-room, amidst a general whisking away of the women on the staircase, who disperse in all directions, with a great rustling of skirts, except Mrs. Perch, who being (but that she always is) in an interesting situation, is not nimble, and is obliged to face him, and is ready to sink with confusion as she curtsies ;-may Heaven avert all evil consequences from the house of Perch! Mr. Dombey walks up to the drawing-room to bide his time. Gorgeous are Mr. Dombey's new blue coat, fawn-coloured pantaloons, and lilac waistcoat; and a whisper goes about the house that Mr. Dombey's hair is curled.

A double knock announces the arrival of the major, who is gorgeous too, and wears a whole geranium in his button-hole, and has his hair curled tight and crisp, as well the native knows. "Dombey!" says the major, putting out both hands, "how are you?"

Major," says Mr. Dombey, "how are You?"

'By Jove, sir," says the major, "Joey B. is in such case this morning, sir," and here he hits himself hard upon the breast," in such case this morning, sir, that, damme, Dombey, he has half a mind to make a double marriage of it, sir, and take the mother."

Mr. Dombey smiles; but faintly, even for him; for Mr. Dombey feels that he is going to be related to the mother, and that, under those circumstances, she is not to be joked about.

I

Dombey," says the major, seeing this, "I give you joy. congratulate you, Dombey. By the Lord, sir," says the major, "you are more to be envied, this day, than any man in England!"

Here, again, Mr. Dombey's assent is qualified; because he is going to confer a great distinction on a lady; and, no doubt, she is to be envied most.

As to Edith Granger, sir," pursues the major, "there is not a woman in all Europe but might—and would, sir, you will allow Bagstock to add-and would-give her ears, and her earrings too, to be in Edith Granger's place."

"You are good enough to say so, major," says Mr. Dombey.

Dombey," returns the major, "you know it. Let us have no false delicacy. You know it. Do you know it, or do you not, Dombey?" says the major, almost in a passion.

"Oh, really, major——”

"Damme, sir," retorts the major, "do you know that fact, or do you not? Dombey! Is old Joe your friend? Are we on that footing of unreserved intimacy, Dombey, that may justify a man- a blunt old Joseph B., sir--in speaking out; or am I 'to take open order, Dombey, and to keep my distance, and to

stand on forms?"

My dear Major Bagstock," says Mr. Dombey with a gratified air, "you are quite warm.”

"By Gad, sir," says the major, "I am warm. Joseph B. does not deny it, Dombey. He is warm. This is an occasion,

sir, that calls forth all the honest sympathies remaining in an old, infernal, battered, used-up, invalided J. B. carcase. And I tell you what, Dombey-at such a time a man must blurt out what he feels, or put a muzzle on; and Joseph Bagstock tells you to your face, Dombey, as he tells his club behind your back, that he never will be muzzled when Paul Dombey is in question. Now, damme, sir," concludes the major with great firmness, what do you make of that?"

66

Major," says Mr. Dombey, "I assure you that I am really obliged to you. I had no idea of checking your too partial

friendship."

"Not too partial, sir!" exclaims the choleric major. "Dombey, I deny it!"

"Your friendship I will say, then," pursues Mr. Dombey, "on any account. Nor can I forget, major, on such an occasion as the present, how much I am indebted to it."

Dombey," says the major, with appropriate action, "that is the hand of Joseph Bagstock; of plain old Joey B., sir, if you like that better! That is the hand of which his Royal Highness the late Duke of York did me the honour to observe, sir, to his Royal Highness the late Duke of Kent, that it was the hand of Josh; a rough and tough, and possibly an up-to-snuff, old vagabond. Dombey, may the present moment be the least unhappy of our lives! God bless you!"

Now enters Mr. Carker, gorgeous likewise, and smiling like a wedding-guest indeed. He can scarcely let Mr. Dombey's hand go, he is so congratulatory; and he shakes the major's hand so heartily at the same time, that his voice shakes too, in accord with his arms, as it comes sliding from between his teeth. The very day is auspicious," says Mr. Carker. brightest and most genial weather! I hope I am

moment late?"

Punctual to your time, sir," says the major.

"The

not a

"I am rejoiced, I am sure," says Mr. Carker. "I was afraid I might be a few seconds after the appointed time, for I was