PAGE 9
Paul Dombey
by
“But what is the matter, Floy?” asked Paul, almost sure that he saw a tear there.
“Nothing, darling, nothing,” returned Florence.
Paul touched her cheek gently with his finger, and it was a tear.
“We’ll go home together, and I’ll nurse you, love,” said Florence.
“Nurse me?” echoed Paul.
“Floy,” said Paul, holding a ringlet of her dark hair in his hand. “Tell me, dear. Do you think I have grown old-fashioned?”
His sister laughed, and fondled him and told him, “No.”
Through the evening Paul sat in his corner watching the dancing and beaming with pride as he heard praise showered on Dombey’s sister. They all loved her–how could they help it, Paul had known beforehand that they must and would, and few would have thought with what triumph and delight he watched her. Thus little Paul sat musing, listening, looking on and dreaming; and was very happy. Until the time came for taking leave, and then indeed there was a sensation in the party. Every one took the heartiest sort of leave of him.
“Good-bye, Doctor Blimber,” said Paul, stretching out his hand.
“Good-bye, my little friend,” returned the doctor.
“I’m very much obliged to you, sir,” said Paul, looking innocently up into his awful face. “Ask them to take care of Diogenes, if you please.”
Diogenes was the dog who had never received a friend into his confidence, before Paul. The doctor promised that every attention should be paid to Diogenes in Paul’s absence, and Paul having again thanked him, and shaken hands with him, bade adieu to Mrs. Blimber and Cornelia. Cornelia, taking both Paul’s hands in hers said,–“Dombey, Dombey, you have always been my favourite pupil. God bless you!” And it showed, Paul thought, how easily one might do injustice to a person; for Miss Blimber meant it–although she was a Forcer.
A buzz then went round among the young gentlemen, of “Dombey’s going! little Dombey’s going!” and there was a general move after Paul and Florence down the staircase and into the hall, in which the whole Blimber family were included. The servants with the butler at their head had all an interest in seeing Little Dombey go, and even the young man taking out his books and trunks to the coach melted visibly. Nothing could restrain them from taking quite a noisy leave of Paul; waving hats after him, pressing downstairs to shake hands with him, crying individually “Dombey! don’t forget me!” Paul whispered to Florence, as she wrapped him up before the door was opened. Did she hear them? Would she ever forget it? Was she glad to know it? And a lively delight was in his eyes as he spoke to her.
Once for a last look he turned and gazed upon the faces thus addressed to him, surprised to see how shining and how bright and how numerous they were. They swam before him, as he looked, and next moment he was in the dark coach outside holding close to Florence. From that time, whenever he thought of Doctor Blimber’s it came back as he had seen it in this last view; and it never seemed a real place again, but always a dream, full of eyes.
And so ended little Paul’s school days at Doctor Blimber’s, for once at home again he never rose from his little bed. He lay there (listening to the noises in the street), quite tranquilly, not caring much how the time went, but watching it and everything about him with observing eyes. When the sunbeams struck into his room through the rustling blinds, and quivered on the opposite wall like golden water, he knew that evening was coming on, and that the sky was red and beautiful. As the reflection died away, and a gloom went creeping up the wall, he watched it deepen–deepen, into night. Then he thought how the long streets were dotted with lamps, and how the peaceful stars were shining overhead. His fancy had a strange tendency to wander to the river, which he knew was flowing through the great city; and now he thought how black it was and how deep it would look reflecting the hosts of stars–and more than all, how steadily it rolled away to meet the sea.