`Mr. Dombey,' said Mrs. Skewton, when she at length resumed, `was obliging enough, now many weeks ago, to do us the honour of visiting us here; in company, my dear Major, with yourself. I acknowledge--let me be open--that it is my failing to be the creature of impulse, and to wear my heart, as it were, outside. I know my failing full well. My enemy cannot know it better. But I am not penitent; I would rather not be frozen by the heartless world, and am content to bear this imputation justly.'

Mrs. Skewton arranged her tucker, pinched her wiry throat to give it a soft surface, and went on, with great complacency.

`It gave me (my dearest Edith too, I am sure) infinite pleasure to receive Mr. Dombey. As a friend of yours, my dear Major, we were naturally disposed to be prepossessed in his favour; and I fancied that I observed an amount of Heart in Mr. Dombey, that was excessively refreshing.'

`There is devilish little heart in Dombey now, Ma'am,' said the Major.

`Wretched man!' cried Mrs. Skewton, looking at him languidly, `pray be silent.'

`J. B. is dumb, Ma'am,' said the Major.

`Mr. Dombey,' pursued Cleopatra, smoothing the rosy hue upon her cheeks, `accordingly repeated his visit; and possibly finding some attraction in the simplicity and primitiveness of our tastes--for there is always a charm in nature--it is so very sweet--became one of our little circle every evening. Little did I think of the awful responsibility into which I plunged when I encouraged Mr. Dombey--to--'

`To beat up these quarters, Ma'am,' suggested Major Bagstock.

`Coarse person!' said Mrs. Skewton, `you anticipate my meaning, though in odious language.'

Here Mrs. Skewton rested her elbow on the little table at her side, and suffering her wrist to droop in what she considered a graceful and becoming manner, dangled her fan to and fro, and lazily admired her hand while speaking.

`The agony I have endured,' she said mincingly, `as the truth has by degrees dawned upon me, has been too exceedingly terrific to dilate upon. My whole existence is bound up in my sweetest Edith; and to see her change from day to day--my beautiful pet, who has positively garnered up her heart since the death of that most delightful creature, Granger--is the most affecting thing in the world.'

Mrs. Skewton's world was not a very trying one, if one might judge of it by the influence of its most affecting circumstance upon her; but this by the way.

`Edith,' simpered Mrs. Skewton, `who is the perfect pearl of my life, is said to resemble me. I believe we are alike.'

`There is one man in the world who never will admit that any one resembles you, Ma'am,' said the Major; `and that man's name is Old Joe Bagstock.'

Cleopatra made as if she would brain the flatterer with her fan, but relenting, smiled upon him and proceeded:

`If my charming girl inherits any advantages from me, wicked one!': the Major was the wicked one: `she inherits also my foolish nature. She has great force of character--mines has been said to be immense, though I don't believe it--but once moved, she is susceptible and sensitive to the last extent. What are my feelings when I see her pining! They destroy me.'

The Major advancing his double chin, and pursing up his blue lips into a soothing expression, affected the profoundest sympathy.