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Dombey and Son. Charles Dickens

Not poor widower, confiding by constraint in the wife of an ignorant Hind who has been working ′mostly underground′ all his life, and yet at whose door Death had never knocked, and at whose poor table four sons daily sit - but poor little fellow!

Those words being on his lips, it occurred to him - and it is an instance of the strong attraction with which his hopes and fears and all his thoughts were tending to one centre - that a great temptation was being placed in this woman′s way. Her infant was a boy too. Now, would it be possIble for her to change them?

Though he was soon satisfied that he had dismissed the idea as romantic and unlikely - though possible, there was no denying - he could not help pursuing it so far as to entertain within himself a picture of what his condition would be, if he should discover such an imposture when he was grown old. Whether a man so situated would be able to pluck away the result of so many years of usage, confidence, and belief, from the impostor, and endow a stranger with it?

But it was idle speculating thus. It couldn′t happen. In a moment afterwards he determined that it could, but that such women were constantly observed, and had no opportunity given them for the accomplishment of such a design, even when they were so wicked as to entertain it. In another moment, he was remembering how few such cases seemed to have ever happened. In another moment he was wondering whether they ever happened and were not found out.

As his unusual emotion subsided, these misgivings gradually melted away, though so much of their shadow remained behind, that he was constant in his resolution to look closely after Richards himself, without appearing to do so. Being now in an easier frame of mind, he regarded the woman′s station as rather an advantageous circumstance than otherwise, by placing, in itself, a broad distance between her and the child, and rendering their separation easy and natural. Thence he passed to the contemplation of the future glories of Dombey and Son, and dismissed the memory of his wife, for the time being, with a tributary sigh or two.

Meanwhile terms were ratified and agreed upon between Mrs Chick and Richards, with the assistance of Miss Tox; and Richards being with much ceremony invested with the Dombey baby, as if it were an Order, resigned her own, with many tears and kisses, to Jemima. Glasses of wine were then produced, to sustain the drooping spirits of the family; and Miss Tox, busying herself in dispensing ′tastes′ to the younger branches, bred them up to their father′s business with such surprising expedition, that she made chokers of four of them in a quarter of a minute.

′You′ll take a glass yourself, Sir, won′t you?′ said Miss Tox, as Toodle appeared.

′Thankee, Mum,′ said Toodle, ′since you are suppressing.′

′And you′re very glad to leave your dear good wife in such a comfortable home, ain′t you, Sir?′said Miss Tox, nodding and winking at him stealthily.

′No, Mum,′ said Toodle. ′Here′s wishing of her back agin.′

Polly cried more than ever at this. So Mrs Chick, who had her matronly apprehensions that this indulgence in grief might be prejudicial to the little Dombey (′acid, indeed,′ she whispered Miss Tox), hastened to the rescue.

′Your little child will thrive charmingly with your sister Jemima, Richards,′ said Mrs Chick; ′and you have only to make an effort - this is a world of effort, you know, Richards - to be very happy indeed.

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