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'I am sure, said Miss Tox, with a prodigious curtsey, 'that to have the honour of being presented to Mr Dombey is a distinction which I have long sought, but very little expected at the present moment. My dear Mrs Chick may I say Louisa! Mrs Chick took Miss Tox's hand in hers, rested the foot of her wine-glass upon it, repressed a tear, and said in a low voice, 'God bless you!
Perhaps there never was a smaller entry and staircase, than the entry and staircase of Miss Tox's house. Perhaps, taken altogether, from top to bottom, it was the most inconvenient little house in England, and the crookedest; but then, Miss Tox said, what a situation!
Miss Tox arose, took up her scissors hastily, and so coming, at last, to the plants, was very busy with them when Mrs Chick entered the room. 'How is my sweetest friend! exclaimed Miss Tox, with open arms. A little stateliness was mingled with Miss Tox's sweetest friend's demeanour, but she kissed Miss Tox, and said, 'Lucretia, thank you, I am pretty well. I hope you are the same. Hem!
'Bless you, returns Polly, 'no; he has not been seen this many a day. They tell me he never leaves his room. 'Is he said to be ill? inquires Miss Tox. 'No, Ma'am, not that I know of, returns Polly, 'except in his mind. He must be very bad there, poor gentleman! Miss Tox's sympathy is such that she can scarcely speak. She is no chicken, but she has not grown tough with age and celibacy.
Still, Miss Tox was lonely, and at a loss. Her attachments, however ludicrously shown, were real and strong; and she was, as she expressed it, 'deeply hurt by the unmerited contumely she had met with from Louisa. But there was no such thing as anger in Miss Tox's composition.
Mrs Chick, at length recovering sufficient presence of mind to interpose, commanded him to drop Miss Tox upon the sofa and withdraw; and the exile promptly obeying, she applied herself to promote Miss Tox's recovery.
Your Papa's a Dombey, child, if ever there was one, said Mrs Chick, drying both her eyes at once with great care on opposite corners of Miss Tox's handkerchief 'He'll make an effort. There's no fear of him. 'Is there nothing, aunt, said Florence, trembling, 'I might do to 'Lord, my dear child, interposed Mrs Chick, hastily, 'what are you talking about?
It then begins to be Miss Tox's occupation to prepare little dainties or what are such to her to be carried into these rooms next morning. She derives so much satisfaction from the pursuit, that she enters on it regularly from that time; and brings daily in her little basket, various choice condiments selected from the scanty stores of the deceased owner of the powdered head and pigtail.
She had the softest voice that ever was heard; and her nose, stupendously aquiline, had a little knob in the very centre or key-stone of the bridge, whence it tended downwards towards her face, as in an invincible determination never to turn up at anything. Miss Tox's dress, though perfectly genteel and good, had a certain character of angularity and scantiness.
'And as to anything in the shape of a token, my dear Paul, pursued his sister, 'all I can say is that anything you give Miss Tox will be hoarded and prized, I am sure, like a relic. But there is a way, my dear Paul, of showing your sense of Miss Tox's friendliness in a still more flattering and acceptable manner, if you should be so inclined. 'How is that? asked Mr Dombey.
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