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Updated: May 16, 2025
That as the little fellow had set his heart on parting with his school-mates on the seventeenth, it would be better to indulge the fancy if he grew no worse. That he was glad to hear from Mrs Pipchin, that the little fellow would go to his friends in London on the eighteenth. That he would write to Mr Dombey, when he should have gained a better knowledge of the case, and before that day.
'There is a great deal of nonsense and worse talked about young people not being pressed too hard at first, and being tempted on, and all the rest of it, Sir, said Mrs Pipchin, impatiently rubbing her hooked nose. 'It never was thought of in my time, and it has no business to be thought of now. My opinion is "keep 'em at it".
She would make him move his chair to her side of the fire, instead of sitting opposite; and there he would remain in a nook between Mrs Pipchin and the fender, with all the light of his little face absorbed into the black bombazeen drapery, studying every line and wrinkle of her countenance, and peering at the hard grey eye, until Mrs Pipchin was sometimes fain to shut it, on pretence of dozing.
'Mrs Pipchin, said Mr Dombey, 'How do you do? 'Thank you, Sir, said Mrs Pipchin, 'I am pretty well, considering. Mrs Pipchin always used that form of words. It meant, considering her virtues, sacrifices, and so forth. 'I can't expect, Sir, to be very well, said Mrs Pipchin, taking a chair and fetching her breath; 'but such health as I have, I am grateful for.
Florence dropped upon the stairs in a swoon; and was found there by Mrs Pipchin, she supposed. She knew nothing more, until she found herself lying on her own bed, with Mrs Pipchin and some servants standing round her. 'Where is Mama? was her first question. 'Gone out to dinner, said Mrs Pipchin. 'And Papa?
'Well! retorted Mrs Pipchin, shortly, 'and there's nobody like me, I suppose. 'Ain't there really though? asked Paul, leaning forward in his chair, and looking at her very hard. 'No, said the old lady. 'I am glad of that, observed Paul, rubbing his hands thoughtfully. 'That's a very good thing.
Pipchin, for example, that grim old lady with a mottled face like bad marble, who acquired an immense reputation as a manager of children, by the simple device of giving them everything they didn't like and nothing that they did! Whose constitution required mutton chops hot and hot, and buttered toast in similar relays!
The cat, and Paul, and Mrs Pipchin, were constantly to be found in their usual places after dark; and Paul, eschewing the companionship of Master Bitherstone, went on studying Mrs Pipchin, and the cat, and the fire, night after night, as if they were a book of necromancy, in three volumes.
He appears to be falling into a consideration of the manner in which this warning ought to operate in his particular case, when the vinegary Mrs Pipchin, suddenly stirring him up with a 'What are you doing? Why don't you show the lady to the door? he ushers Miss Tox forth.
Sunday evening was the most melancholy evening in the week; for Mrs Pipchin always made a point of being particularly cross on Sunday nights.
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