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Then Miss Blimber said to Dombey that dinner would be ready in a quarter of an hour, and perhaps he had better go into the school-room among his “friends.” So Dombey opened the school-room door a very little way and strayed in like a lost boy.

His “friends,” were all dispersed about the room. All the boys (Toots excepted) were getting ready for dinner–some newly tying their neckcloths, and others washing their hands or brushing their hair in an adjoining room. Young Toots, who was ready beforehand, and had therefore leisure to bestow upon Dombey, said with heavy good-nature,—-

“Sit down, Dombey.”

“Thank you, sir,” said Paul.

His endeavouring to hoist himself on to a very high window-seat, and his slipping down again, prepared Toots’ mind for the reception of a discovery.

“You’re a very small chap,” said Mr. Toots.

“Yes, sir, I’m small,” returned Paul. “Thank you, sir.” For Toots had lifted him into the seat, and done it kindly too.

“Who’s your tailor?” inquired Toots, after looking at him for some moments.

“It’s a woman that has made my clothes as yet,” said Paul “My sister’s dressmaker.”

“My tailor’s Burgess and Co.,” said Toots. “Fash’nable but very dear.”

Paul had wit enough to shake his head, as if he would have said it was easy to see that.

“Your father’s regularly rich, ain’t he?” inquired Mr. Toots.

“Yes, sir,” said Paul. “He’s Dombey and Son.”

“And which?” demanded Toots.

“And son, sir,” replied Paul.

By this time the other pupils had gathered round, and after a few minutes of general conversation the gong sounded, which caused a general move towards the dining-room. Paul’s chair at the table was next to Miss Blimber, but it being found, when he sat in it, that his eyebrows were not much above the level of the table-cloth, some books were brought, on which he was elevated, and on which he always sat from that time, carrying them in and out himself on after occasions, like a little elephant and castle.

Grace having been said by the doctor, dinner began. There was some nice soup, also roast meat, boiled meat, vegetables, pie, and cheese. Every young gentleman had a massive silver fork and a napkin, and all the arrangements were stately and handsome. There was a butler too, in a blue coat and brass buttons.

Nobody spoke unless spoken to, except Doctor Blimber, Mrs. Blimber, and Miss Blimber. Only once during dinner was there any conversation that included the young gentlemen. It happened when the doctor, having hemmed twice or thrice; said:—-

“It is remarkable, Mr. Feeder, that the Romans—-“

At this mention of this terrible people, their implacable enemies, every young gentleman fastened his gaze upon the doctor, with an assumption of the deepest interest. One of the number happened to be drinking, and when he caught the doctor’s eye glaring at him through the side of his tumbler, he left off so hastily that he was convulsed for some moments, and in the sequel ruined Doctor Blimber’s point, for at the critical part of the Roman tale, Johnson, unable to suppress it any longer, burst into such an overwhelming fit of coughing that, although both his immediate neighbours thumped him on the back, and Mr. Feeder himself held a glass of water to his lips, and the butler walked him up and down several times between his own chair and the sideboard, like a sentry, it was full five minutes before he was moderately composed, and then there was a profound silence.

“Gentlemen,” said Doctor Blimber, “rise for Grace! Cornelia, lift Dombey down. Johnson will repeat to me to-morrow morning before breakfast, without book, and from the Greek Testament, the first chapter of Saint Paul to the Ephesians. We will resume our studies, Mr. Feeder, in half-an-hour.”

The young gentlemen bowed and withdrew. Through the rest of the day’s routine of work Paul sat in a corner wondering whether Florence was thinking of him and what they were about at Mrs. Pipchin’s.