Mr Toots laid his hand upon the doorpost, and his eyes upon his hand.
- with her dear love,' said Walter, 'that she can never have a friend whom she will value above you. That the recollection of your true consideration for her always, can never be forgotten by her. That she remembers you in her prayers to-night, and hopes that you will think of her when she is far away. Shall I say anything for you?'
'Say, Walter,' replied Mr Toots indistinctly, 'that I shall think of her every day, but never without feeling happy to know that she is married to the man she loves, and who loves her. Say, if you please, that I am sure her husband deserves her - even her!- and that I am glad of her choice.'
Mr Toots got more distinct as he came to these last words, and raising his eyes from the doorpost, said them stoutly. He then shook Walter's hand again with a fervour that Walter was not slow to return and started homeward.
Mr Toots was accompanied by the Chicken, whom he had of late brought with him every evening, and left in the shop, with an idea that unforeseen circumstances might arise from without, in which the prowess of that distinguished character would be of service to the Midshipman. The Chicken did not appear to be in a particularly good humour on this occasion. Either the gas-lamps were treacherous, or he cocked his eye in a hideous manner, and likewise distorted his nose, when Mr Toots, crossing the road, looked back over his shoulder at the room where Florence slept. On the road home, he was more demonstrative of aggressive intentions against the other foot-passengers, than comported with a professor of the peaceful art of self-defence. Arrived at home, instead of leaving Mr Toots in his apartments when he had escorted him thither, he remained before him weighing his white hat in both hands by the brim, and twitching his head and nose (both of which had been many times broken, and but indifferently repaired), with an air of decided disrespect.
His patron being much engaged with his own thoughts, did not observe this for some time, nor indeed until the Chicken, determined not to be overlooked, had made divers clicking sounds with his tongue and teeth, to attract attention.
'Now, Master,' said the Chicken, doggedly, when he, at length, caught Mr Toots's eye, 'I want to know whether this here gammon is to finish it, or whether you're a going in to win?'
'Chicken,' returned Mr Toots, 'explain yourself.'
'Why then, here's all about it, Master,' said the Chicken. 'I ain't a cove to chuck a word away. Here's wot it is. Are any on 'em to be doubled up?'
When the Chicken put this question he dropped his hat, made a dodge and a feint with his left hand, hit a supposed enemy a violent blow with his right, shook his head smartly, and recovered himself'
'Come, Master,' said the Chicken. 'Is it to be gammon or pluck? Which?'
Chicken,' returned Mr Toots, 'your expressions are coarse, and your meaning is obscure.'
'Why, then, I tell you what, Master,' said the Chicken. 'This is where it is. It's mean.'
'What is mean, Chicken?' asked Mr Toots.
'It is,' said the Chicken, with a frightful corrugation of his broken nose. 'There! Now, Master! Wot! When you could go and blow on this here match to the stiff'un;' by which depreciatory appellation it has been since supposed that the Game One intended to signify Mr Dombey; 'and when you could knock the winner and all the kit of 'em dead out o' wind and time, are you going to give in? To give in? 'said the Chicken, with contemptuous emphasis. 'Wy, it's mean!'
'Chicken,' said Mr Toots, severely, 'you're a perfect Vulture! Your sentiments are atrocious.'
'My sentiments is Game and Fancy, Master,' returned the Chicken. 'That's wot my sentiments is. I can't abear a meanness. I'm afore the public, I'm to be heerd on at the bar of the Little Helephant, and no Gov'ner o' mine mustn't go and do what's mean. Wy, it's mean,' said the Chicken, with increased expression. 'That's where it is. It's mean.'
'Chicken,' said Mr Toots, 'you disgust me.'
'Master,' returned the Chicken, putting on his hat, 'there's a pair on us, then. Come! Here's a offer! You've spoke to me more than once't or twice't about the public line. Never mind! Give me a fi'typunnote to-morrow, and let me go.'
'Chicken,' returned Mr Toots, 'after the odious sentiments you have expressed, I shall be glad to part on such terms.'
'Done then,' said the Chicken. 'It's a bargain. This here conduct of yourn won't suit my book, Master. Wy, it's mean,' said the Chicken; who seemed equally unable to get beyond that point, and to stop short of it. 'That's where it is; it's mean!'
So Mr Toots and the Chicken agreed to part on this incompatibility of moral perception; and Mr Toots lying down to sleep, dreamed happily of Florence, who had thought of him as her friend upon the last night of her maiden life, and who had sent him her dear love.
海军军官候补生精神抖擞。图茨先生和苏珊终于来了。苏珊像一个发疯的姑娘一样跑到楼上，图茨先生和斗鸡则走进客厅。
“啊，我亲爱的心肝宝贝可爱的弗洛伊小姐！”尼珀跑进弗洛伊的房间，喊道，“想不到事情会到了这个地步，我竟会在这里找到您呀我亲爱的小鸽子，您在这里没有人侍候您也没有一个您可以称为自己的家，不过我永远永远也不会再离开您了，弗洛伊小姐，因为我虽然不会长苔藓，但我不是一块滚动的石头，①我的心也不是一块石头要不然它就不会像现在这样在爆裂了，啊亲爱的啊亲爱的！”
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①滚动的石头不长苔藓（Arollingstonegathersnomoss），是英国谚语。滚动的石头一般比喻喜欢改换职业、住址等的人。
尼珀姑娘滔滔不绝地倾吐出这些话语，并跪在她的女主人的前面，紧紧地拥抱着她。
“我亲爱的！”苏珊喊道，“过去发生的事情我全知道了，我一切都知道了，我心爱的宝贝，我喘不过气来了，给我空气吧！”
“苏珊，亲爱的好苏珊！”弗洛伦斯说道。
“啊上帝保佑她！她还是个小孩子的时候我就是她的小侍女！难道她确确实实当真要结婚了吗？”苏珊高声喊道，她又是痛苦又是高兴，又是自豪又是悲伤，天知道还夹杂着多少其他相互冲突的感情。
“谁跟您这么说的？”弗洛伦斯说道。
“啊我的天哪！就是那个最傻里傻气的人图茨，”苏珊歇斯底里地回答道，“我知道他准没错，我亲爱的，因为他很伤心。他是个最忠实最傻里傻气的小娃娃！难道我心爱的人儿确确实实要结婚了吗？”苏珊继续说道，一边泪流满脸地又紧紧拥抱着她。
尼珀不断地提到这个问题，每当提到这个问题的时候，她都要抬起头来注视这张年轻的脸孔并吻它，然后又把头低垂在女主人肩膀上，爱抚着她，并哭泣着；她提到这个问题时所流露出来的、混杂着同情、喜悦、亲切与爱护的感情是世界上真正女性的高尚的感情。
“好了，好了！”弗洛伦斯不久用安慰的声调说道，“啊现在您镇静下来了，亲爱的苏珊！”
尼珀姑娘坐在女主人脚边的地板上，又是大笑又是哭泣，一只手用手绢抹着眼泪，另一只手轻轻地拍着正舔她的脸孔的戴奥吉尼斯；她承认她现在镇静一些了，为了证明这一点，她又大笑了一会儿，哭泣了一会儿。
“我——我——我从来没有见过像图茨这样的人，”苏珊说道，“从我生下来起从来没有见过！”
“他是那么善良，”弗洛伦斯提示道。
“而且是那么滑稽可笑！”苏珊抽抽嗒嗒地哭泣着说道，“他跟我坐在马车里跟我谈话，那位不值得尊敬的斗鸡则坐在车夫座位上，那时候瞧他那说话的神态和腔调！”
“他谈了些什么呢；苏珊？”弗洛伦斯胆怯地问道。
“他谈到沃尔特斯上尉，谈到吉尔斯船长，还谈到您我亲爱的弗洛伊小姐，还有那沉默的坟墓，”苏珊说道。
“沉默的坟墓！”弗洛伦斯重复地说道。
“他说，”这时苏珊歇斯底里地大笑了一阵子，“他将立刻很轻松自在地走进沉默的坟墓，可是您放心他不会的，我亲爱的弗洛伊小姐，他说那句话是表示他看到别人幸福真是太快乐了，他也许并不是所罗门，”尼珀姑娘又像往常那样滔滔不绝地继续说道，“我也没有说他就是所罗门，但是我敢说世界上从来没有见到过像他那样不自私的人！”
尼珀姑娘作了这个有力的声明之后，仍然处于歇斯底里的状态，毫无节制地大笑着，然后才告诉弗洛伦斯，他在楼下等着见她，这将是对他最近不辞辛苦、长途奔波的极为丰厚的酬答。
弗洛伦斯请苏珊去邀请图茨先生上楼来，她将高兴地对他的好意帮助表示感谢。几分钟之后，苏珊就把那位年轻人带进房间，他头发还是乱蓬蓬的，说起话来结巴得厉害。
“董贝小姐，”图茨先生说道，“又承蒙您允许我——注视——至少，不是注视，不过——我不知道我要说什么，不过这是无关紧要的。”
“我是这么经常地感谢您，我都已经把话讲完了，因此我不知道现在该讲些什么好。”弗洛伦斯向他伸出双手，脸上露出真挚的谢意。
“董贝小姐，”图茨先生用可怕的说道，“如果您能够咒骂我几句（这并不改变您那天使般的性格），那么我反倒好受些；现在您讲了这样亲切的话，可真把我难住了（如果您允许我这样说的话）。这些话对我的影响——是——不过，”图茨先生突然中断话头，说道，“我离题了，这完全是无关紧要的。”
弗洛伦斯由于除了再次谢谢他之外，似乎没办法回答他的话，所以就再一次谢谢他。
“董贝小姐，”图茨先生说道，“如果可能的话，我希望趁这个机会解释一、两句。我本可以和苏珊早一些回来的，可是第一，我们不知道她投奔的亲戚的姓名，第二，因为她已离开了她那位亲戚的家，到另一位住在远处的亲戚那里去了，所以我想，如果不是斗鸡聪明的话，那么我们到现在也还不见得就能找到她呢。”
弗洛伦斯相信这一点。
“不过，这并不是重要的一点，”图茨先生说道，“我可以向您肯定地说，董贝小姐，就我当时的心情来说（它是容易想象而难以描述的），跟苏珊在一起对我是一种安慰与满足。这次旅行本身就是一种报酬。可是那仍然不是重要的一点。董贝小姐，我曾经跟您说过，我明白，我并不是个人们可以称做头脑灵敏的人。我完全知道这一点。我自己比任何人都清楚，我是个多么——如果不算说得太过分的话，那么我就要说，我是个脑子很愚钝的人。可是尽管这样，董贝小姐，我还是看出沃尔特斯上尉的情况是怎么回事。不论这种情况会使我产生多少痛苦（这是完全无关紧要的），可是我一定得说，沃尔特斯上尉看来是个值得享受降临在他的——他的身上的幸福的人。祝愿他长久地享受它，并珍惜它，就像一个很不相同、很不足取、指出他的姓名完全是无关紧要的人会珍惜它的一样！不过，这仍然不是重要的一点。董贝小姐，吉尔斯船长是我的朋友，我觉得如果在这段时间里我不时来回到这里来看看，吉尔斯船长是会感到高兴的。到这里来看看也会使我感到高兴。不过我不能忘记，我有一次在布赖顿广场角落里犯了一个极严重的错误；如果我到这里来会使您有一点点不乐意的话，那么我只请求您现在就向我指出来；我可以向您保证，我将完全理解您。我决不会认为这是冷酷无情，而只会由于荣幸地得到您的信任而感到快乐和幸福。”
“图茨先生，”弗洛伦斯回答道，“您是我的一位很真诚的老朋友；如果您现在不再到这里来看我们的话，那么您将会使我感到很不快乐。我看到您只会感到高兴，而决不会产生任何其他的感情。”“董贝小姐，”图茨先生掏出手绢来，说道，“如果我掉眼泪的话，那么这是欢乐的眼泪；这是无关紧要的；我深深地感谢您。在您讲了这些亲切的话以后，请允许我说一句，我不打算再轻视我自己了。”
弗洛伦斯听到这个暗示，露出了茫然不解的可爱的表情。
“我的意思是说，”图茨先生说道，“我将认为，在我没有被沉默的坟墓召唤去之前，作为人类的一员，我有责任尽量让我的外表好看一些；如果——如果情况允许的话，那么我将——把我的靴子擦得亮亮的。董贝小姐，这是我最后一次冒昧地向您讲到有关个人方面的事。我确实非常感谢您。如果我不是像我的朋友们或我自己所希望的那样明白事理的话，那么，说实话，我以我的荣誉发誓，我对别人的体贴与好意是特别能领会的。如果——如果——我知道怎样开始的话，图茨先生用充满热情的语气说道，“我觉得仿佛我现在能以最美好的方式来表达我的感情似的。”
图茨先生等了一、两分钟，看看他是否能想出怎样开始；看来他还是想不出来，就匆匆告辞了。他走下楼去找船长，在店铺里找到了他。
“吉尔斯船长，”图茨先生说道，“我现在跟您谈的事情必须保证严守秘密，吉尔斯船长；这是我跟董贝小姐在楼上谈话的结果。”
“在船内和在桅杆高处是吗，我的孩子？”船长低声问道。
“正是这样，吉尔斯船长，”图茨先生说道，他由于完全不明白船长讲话的意思，就以极大的热情表示同意。“吉尔斯船长，我相信董贝小姐很快就要跟沃尔特斯上尉结婚了吧？”
“是的，是的，我的孩子。我们这里全都是船友。沃尔跟他亲爱的情人在结婚预告①结束之后，就立即在缔结婚姻的房屋里结为夫妇了，”卡特尔船长凑着他的耳朵低声说道。
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①在信奉基督教的国家，人们在结婚之前，在教堂中须宣读结婚预告，询问是否有人提出异议；在不同时间，共宣读三次预告。
“结婚预告，吉尔斯船长！”图茨先生重复说道。
“在那边教堂里，”船长用大姆指指指肩膀后面，说道。
“啊，是的！”图茨先生回答道。
“然后怎样呢？”船长用手背拍拍图茨先生的胸膛，往后退了一步，露出钦佩的神情看着他，并用嘶哑的低声说道，“然
Chapter 57
Another Wedding
Mr Sownds the beadle, and Mrs Miff the pew-opener, are early at their posts in the fine church where Mr Dombey was married. A yellow-faced old gentleman from India, is going to take unto himself a young wife this morning, and six carriages full of company are expected, and Mrs Miff has been informed that the yellow-faced old gentleman could pave the road to church with diamonds and hardly miss them. The nuptial benediction is to be a superior one, proceeding from a very reverend, a dean, and the lady is to be given away, as an extraordinary present, by somebody who comes express from the Horse Guards
Mrs Miff is more intolerant of common people this morning, than she generally is; and she his always strong opinions on that subject, for it is associated with free sittings. Mrs Miff is not a student of political economy (she thinks the science is connected with dissenters; 'Baptists or Wesleyans, or some o' them,' she says), but she can never understand what business your common folks have to be married. 'Drat 'em,' says Mrs Miff 'you read the same things over 'em' and instead of sovereigns get sixpences!'
Mr Sownds the beadle is more liberal than Mrs Miff - but then he is not a pew-opener. 'It must be done, Ma'am,' he says. 'We must marry 'em. We must have our national schools to walk at the head of, and we must have our standing armies. We must marry 'em, Ma'am,' says Mr Sownds, 'and keep the country going.'
Mr Sownds is sitting on the steps and Mrs Miff is dusting in the church, when a young couple, plainly dressed, come in. The mortified bonnet of Mrs Miff is sharply turned towards them, for she espies in this early visit indications of a runaway match. But they don't want to be married - 'Only,' says the gentleman, 'to walk round the church.' And as he slips a genteel compliment into the palm of Mrs Miff, her vinegary face relaxes, and her mortified bonnet and her spare dry figure dip and crackle.
Mrs Miff resumes her dusting and plumps up her cushions - for the yellow-faced old gentleman is reported to have tender knees - but keeps her glazed, pew-opening eye on the young couple who are walking round the church. 'Ahem,' coughs Mrs Miff whose cough is drier than the hay in any hassock in her charge, 'you'll come to us one of these mornings, my dears, unless I'm much mistaken!'
They are looking at a tablet on the wall, erected to the memory of someone dead. They are a long way off from Mrs Miff, but Mrs Miff can see with half an eye how she is leaning on his arm, and how his head is bent down over her. 'Well, well,' says Mrs Miff, 'you might do worse. For you're a tidy pair!'
There is nothing personal in Mrs Miff's remark. She merely speaks of stock-in-trade. She is hardly more curious in couples than in coffins. She is such a spare, straight, dry old lady - such a pew of a woman - that you should find as many individual sympathies in a chip. Mr Sownds, now, who is fleshy, and has scarlet in his coat, is of a different temperament. He says, as they stand upon the steps watching the young couple away, that she has a pretty figure, hasn't she, and as well as he could see (for she held her head down coming out), an uncommon pretty face. 'Altogether, Mrs Miff,' says Mr Sownds with a relish, 'she is what you may call a rose-bud.'
Mrs Miff assents with a spare nod of her mortified bonnet; but approves of this so little, that she inwardly resolves she wouldn't be the wife of Mr Sownds for any money he could give her, Beadle as he is.
And what are the young couple saying as they leave the church, and go out at the gate?
'Dear Walter, thank you! I can go away, now, happy.'
'And when we come back, Florence, we will come and see his grave again.'
Florence lifts her eyes, so bright with tears, to his kind face; and clasps her disengaged hand on that other modest little hand which clasps his arm.
'It is very early, Walter, and the streets are almost empty yet. Let us walk.'
'But you will be so tired, my love.'
'Oh no! I was very tired the first time that we ever walked together, but I shall not be so to-day.' And thus - not much changed - she, as innocent and earnest-hearted - he, as frank, as hopeful, and more proud of her - Florence and Walter, on their bridal morning, walk through the streets together.
Not even in that childish walk of long ago, were they so far removed from all the world about them as to-day. The childish feet of long ago, did not tread such enchanted ground as theirs do now. The confidence and love of children may be given many times, and will spring up in many places; but the woman's heart of Florence, with its undivided treasure, can be yielded only once, and under slight or change, can only droop and die.
They take the streets that are the quietest, and do not go near that in which her old home stands. It is a fair, warm summer morning, and the sun shines on them, as they walk towards the darkening mist that overspreads the City. Riches are uncovering in shops; jewels, gold, and silver flash in the goldsmith's sunny windows; and great houses cast a stately shade upon them as they pass. But through the light, and through the shade, they go on lovingly together, lost to everything around; thinking of no other riches, and no prouder home, than they have now in one another.
Gradually they come into the darker, narrower streets, where the sun, now yellow, and now red, is seen through the mist, only at street corners, and in small open spaces where there is a tree, or one of the innumerable churches, or a paved way and a flight of steps, or a curious little patch of garden, or a burying-ground, where the few tombs and tombstones are almost black. Lovingly and trustfully, through all the narrow yards and alleys and the shady streets, Florence goes, clinging to his arm, to be his wife.
