'It's a Baby, Sir,' said the Major, shutting up the glass again, 'for fifty thousand pounds!'
The Major couldn't forget it. He could do nothing but whistle, and stare to that extent, that his eyes, compared with what they now became, had been in former times quite cavernous and sunken. Day after day, two, three, four times a week, this Baby reappeared. The Major continued to stare and whistle. To all other intents and purposes he was alone in Princess's Place. Miss Tox had ceased to mind what he did. He might have been black as well as blue, and it would have been of no consequence to her.
The perseverance with which she walked out of Princess's Place to fetch this baby and its nurse, and walked back with them, and walked home with them again, and continually mounted guard over them; and the perseverance with which she nursed it herself, and fed it, and played with it, and froze its young blood with airs upon the harpsichord, was extraordinary. At about this same period too, she was seized with a passion for looking at a certain bracelet; also with a passion for looking at the moon, of which she would take long observations from her chamber window. But whatever she looked at; sun, moon, stars, or bracelet; she looked no more at the Major. And the Major whistled, and stared, and wondered, and dodged about his room, and could make nothing of it.
'You'll quite win my brother Paul's heart, and that's the truth, my dear,' said Mrs Chick, one day.
Miss Tox turned pale.
'He grows more like Paul every day,' said Mrs Chick.
Miss Tox returned no other reply than by taking the little Paul in her arms, and making his cockade perfectly flat and limp with her caresses.
'His mother, my dear,' said Miss Tox, 'whose acquaintance I was to have made through you, does he at all resemble her?'
'Not at all,' returned Louisa
'She was - she was pretty, I believe?' faltered Miss Tox.
'Why, poor dear Fanny was interesting,' said Mrs Chick, after some judicial consideration. 'Certainly interesting. She had not that air of commanding superiority which one would somehow expect, almost as a matter of course, to find in my brother's wife; nor had she that strength and vigour of mind which such a man requires.'
Miss Tox heaved a deep sigh.
'But she was pleasing:' said Mrs Chick: 'extremely so. And she meant! - oh, dear, how well poor Fanny meant!'
'You Angel!' cried Miss Tox to little Paul. 'You Picture of your own Papa!'
If the Major could have known how many hopes and ventures, what a multitude of plans and speculations, rested on that baby head; and could have seen them hovering, in all their heterogeneous confusion and disorder, round the puckered cap of the unconscious little Paul; he might have stared indeed. Then would he have recognised, among the crowd, some few ambitious motes and beams belonging to Miss Tox; then would he perhaps have understood the nature of that lady's faltering investment in the Dombey Firm.
If the child himself could have awakened in the night, and seen, gathered about his cradle-curtains, faint reflections of the dreams that other people had of him, they might have scared him, with good reason. But he slumbered on, alike unconscious of the kind intentions of Miss Tox, the wonder of the Major, the early sorrows of his sister, and the stern visions of his father; and innocent that any spot of earth contained a Dombey or a Son.
托克斯小姐居住在一座黑暗的小房屋里，这座房屋在英国历史中某一个遥远的时期被挤进这个城市西端的一个豪华的地区。它在那里像一个穷亲戚一样，座落在从拐角通出去的那条大街的阴影之中，被一座座宏伟的邸宅冷漠地藐视着。它实际上不是在一个院子里，也不是在一个围场中，而是在通衢大道之外的一个最萧条的地方，远处传来接二连三的敲门声都会使这里胆战心惊，惶惶不安。这个偏僻的地方称为公主广场，它的铺石路缝中长出了青草；在公主广场中有一个小的公主教堂，钟声从那里当当地传出；星期天到那里去参加祈祷仪式的有时达二十五人之多。那里还有公主纹章，优秀的步兵常去参观。在公主纹章前面的围栏内放着一顶轿子，可是据人们记忆，从来没有被抬出到外面来过；在天气晴朗的上午，在围栏上面每一条横木的顶上摆着一个白镴壶，作为装饰；横木总共四十八条，因为托克斯小姐常常数它们。
除了托克斯小姐的房屋外，公主广场上还有另一座私人房屋；不用说，它也有两扇很大的门，门上也有一对很大的狮子头形状的门环；这门从来不曾在什么情况下开过，人们猜想，它是一个通向什么人的马厩的废弃不用的入口。确实，在公主广场的空气中是可以闻到马厩的气味的。从托克斯小姐的卧室（它在房屋的后面）望出去，可以望到马店的外景；马夫们在那里不论从事哪一种工作，总是连续不断地发出兴奋的吆喝来伴随自己。马车夫和他们老婆、孩子的最适合家里穿着和最隐蔽的衣裤通常都像麦克佩斯的旗帜一样，悬挂在外面的墙上①。公主广场的这另一座房屋由一位过去当过男管家、现已退休、并已与一位女管家结婚的男子承租；他把一些带家具的房间转租给一位单身的绅士，也就是说，一位面孔像木头一样没有表情，脸色发青的陆军少校；他的眼睛从脸上鼓出，托克斯小姐对这一点表示赏识，她本人曾说它“有些真正的军人气概”。他和她之间偶尔交换交换报纸和小册子，这种柏拉图式的互通款曲②是通过少校的一位黑肤色的仆人作为中间媒介来实现的，托克斯小姐甘心乐意地把这位仆人划为“本地人”，而并没有把他与任何地理概念相联系。
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①见莎士比亚著名悲剧《麦克佩斯》第五幕第五场：
麦克佩斯：“把我们的旗帜挂在城墙外面；……我们这座城堡防御得这样坚强，还怕他们围攻吗？……”
②指精神恋爱。
也许，从来没有比托克斯小姐家的穿堂与楼梯更小的穿堂与楼梯了。也许，从上到下，总的来说，它是英国最不舒适的小房屋，也是形状最歪歪扭扭的。但是这时托克斯小姐就会说，它坐落在一个什么地方呵！冬天屋子里很少有亮光；在一年最好的时光中也见不到太阳；空气是根本谈不上的；街道交通也是不用提了。但是托克斯小姐仍然会说，想一想它是坐落在什么地方呵！脸色发青、眼睛从脸上鼓出的少校也是这么说的；他对公主广场感到自豪；他在俱乐部里，不论什么时候，只要可能，就高兴把谈话转到与住在通过拐角的大街上的大人物有关的一些事情上；他会得意洋洋地说，他们是他的邻居。
托克斯小姐所住的这座黑暗的房屋是她自己的房屋；这是她的小金盒中的那颗没有光泽的眼睛的已故的主人立了遗嘱，赠送给她的；他有一幅头上撒了粉、留着辫子的小小的肖像画，如今已成为与壁炉架另一端上面的水壶支架保持平衡的物品。大部分家具都是男人们头上撒粉和留辫子时期的家具，包括一个饭菜加温器，它经常疲劳无力，伸开四条细弱的罗圈腿，挡住人们的道路；还有一个已陈旧过时的大键琴，琴上制造者的姓名周围画着一环香豌豆，作为装饰。
虽然白格斯托克少校已经到达纯文学中所称的盛壮之年，现正走着下坡路；他几乎没有脖子，颚骨十分坚硬，象一般的长耳朵下垂着，眼睛与脸色呈现出一种前面已经叙述过的不自然的兴奋状态，然而他却以在托克斯小姐心中唤醒了对他的兴趣而十分自豪，而且假想她是一位有意于他的出色的女人，这样来满足自己的虚荣心。他在俱乐部里讲一些小小的笑话时好几次暗示了这一点。在他的笑话中，老乔•白格斯托克，老乔埃•白格斯托克，老约•白格斯托克，老乔希•白格斯托克，等等，是个永恒不变的主题，仿佛少校的幽默的要塞与主塔与他自己的姓名有着最亲昵的关系。
“先生，”少校会挥舞一下他的手杖，说道，“乔埃•白抵得上你们十几个人。如果你们当中再多几个白格斯托克血统的人的话，先生，那么你们就决不会比现在更坏。先生，老乔埃如果要找老婆的话，哪怕就是现在去我，那么他并不需要走多远就能找到一个。可是他是个铁石心肠的人，先生，乔是这样的人——他坚强不屈，先生，坚强不屈，而且像魔鬼一样狡猾！”在这样的声明之后，可以听到呼哧呼哧喘气的声音，少校的脸也会从青色转变为更深的紫色，他的眼睛则会痉挛性地睁大、鼓出。
不论少校自吹自擂，吹得如何天花乱坠，但他却是自私的。世界上是否有过比他内心更完全自私的人，这是可以怀疑的；也许不说心而说胃，是个更好的说法，因为大自然赋予他的后一个器官显然要比前一个器官强得多。他从没有想到他会被什么人忽视或轻视，更决不可能会被托克斯小姐忽视或轻视。
然而，托克斯小姐看来已把他忘记了——逐渐地把他忘记了。在她发现了图德尔家庭之后不久，她就开始把他忘记了。她继续把他忘记，直到施洗礼的时候。在那以后，她又进一步加倍迅速地把他忘记。什么事情或什么人已代替他成为她兴趣的源泉。
“早上好，夫人，”在上一章记载的变化发生了几个星期之后，少校在公主广场遇到托克斯小姐时说道。
“早上好，先生，”托克斯小姐很冷淡地说道。
“夫人，”少校以他通常的殷勤态度说道，“乔•白格斯托克少校已有好长的一段时间未能有幸在您的窗口向您向候致意了。夫人，乔受到了苛刻的对待。他的太阳已经躲藏到一朵云的后面去了。”
托克斯小姐歪斜着头，但确实很冷淡。
“照耀乔的星球也许到城外去了吗，夫人？”少校问道。
“您是说我吗？到城外去了吗？噢，不，我没有到到城外去，”托克斯小姐说道。“我最近很忙。我的时间几乎全都花在几个最亲密的朋友身上了。我只怕甚至连现在也一点时间都抽不出来了。早上好，先生！”
当托克斯小姐随着她那极为迷人的步子和体态从公主广场消失不见的时候，少校站在那里目送着她，脸色比过去任何时候更为发青，同时咕哝着，怒气冲冲地说着一些决不是恭维的话。
“哼，她妈的，先生，”少校向公主广场转动着他的龙虾眼，转了一圈又一圈，并向着它的芳香的空气说道，“六个月以前，这女人喜爱乔•白格斯托克走过的土地。这是什么意思？”少校经过稍稍思考之后，断定它的意思是要诱捕男人；它的意思是策划阴谋，安设圈套；托克斯小姐正在挖掘陷阱。
“可是您捕捉不到乔，夫人，”少校说道，“他是坚强不屈的，夫人，坚强不屈的正就是约•白。坚强不屈，而且像魔鬼一样的狡猾！”他发表了这些感想之后，就吃吃地笑了一整天。
可是那一天和其他许多天都过去了，托克斯小姐似乎仍旧对少校丝毫也不注意，也丝毫没有想到他。从前，她习惯偶尔从她黑暗的小窗口往外看看，然后满脸羞得通红地回答一下少校的问候；可是现在她决不给少校一个机会，丝毫也不理会他是否在看下面的道路。另外的一些变化也发生了。少校站在他自己房间的阴影中，能够隐约地看出，托克斯小姐的房间中最近呈现出一派远比过去漂亮的景象；那只老的金丝雀被装进一只新的金丝鸟笼里；从彩色的硬纸板和纸张中剪出的一些玩艺儿似乎已把壁炉架和桌子装饰一新；一两株植物突然出现在窗口；托克斯小姐偶尔在练习弹奏大键琴，它的那一环甜豌豆总是被得意洋洋地炫示着；琴上摆着托克斯小姐亲自抄写在乐谱中的哥本哈根圆舞曲和鸟儿圆舞曲。
除了这一切之外，托克斯小姐好久以来就非常细心和雅致地穿了一身轻丧服。不过这一点帮助少校走出了困境；他心中断定，她已继承了一小笔遗产，因而趾高气扬起来了。
少校作出这个判断，安下心来以后的第二天，正坐着吃早餐时，看到托克斯小姐的小客厅里出现了一个鬼怪，他是那么惊人，那么奇异，因此他坐在椅子里一直坐了好一会儿，然后才急忙跑到旁边的房间，拿了一个双筒的看戏用的小望远镜回来；他通过望远镜专心致志地察看了好几分钟。
“这是个婴孩，先生，”少校把望远镜重新关上，说道，“我敢拿五万五千镑打赌！”
少校不能忘记这件事情。他除了吹口哨和把眼睛瞪得鼓鼓的之外，什么也干不了；如果跟他现在的眼睛相比，他以前的眼睛就显得相当凹陷和低洼了。一天又一天，这个婴孩在一个星期之内重新出现了两次、三次、四次。少校继续瞪眼睛和吹口哨。不论从哪一点来看，他在公主广场上已是孤身一人了。托克斯小姐已不再关心他做什么了。如果他的脸色从青色转变为黑色，那对她也是一件无关紧要的事情。
她坚持不断地走出公主广场，去领这个婴孩和他的保姆，和他们一起走回来，又和他们走回家去；而且经常看守着他们；她坚持不断地亲自照料孩子，喂他吃东西，和他玩耍，在大键琴上弹出曲调使他年轻的血液凝结；这种坚持不断、始终如一的精神是异乎寻常的。大约就在这同一时期中，她满怀深情地看某一个手镯；她也满怀深情地看月亮，会从她房间的窗口长久地观望着它。但是不论她看什么，看太阳也好，看月亮也好，看星星或看手镯也好，她却不再看少校了。少校吹着口哨，瞪着眼睛，心中纳闷，在房间里转来转去，但却什么也弄不明白。
“您将会赢得我哥哥保罗的心，这是真的，我亲爱的，”奇克夫人有一天说道。
托克斯小姐脸色变得苍白。
“他一天天长得愈来愈像保罗了，”奇克夫人说道。
托克斯小姐没有回答，只是把小保罗抱在怀中，抚摸着他帽上的花结，使它完全平展、柔软。
“他像他的母亲吗？”托克斯小姐问道，“我亲爱的，我得通过您才能了解她呀。”
“一点也不像，”路易莎回答道。
“她——她长得漂亮吧。我想？”托克斯小姐迟疑地说道。
“是的，可怜的亲爱的范妮是有趣的，”奇克夫人经过一些慎重的考虑以后说道。“确实是有趣的。人们不知怎么样，几乎理所当然地本指望会在我的哥哥的妻子身上看到那种威风凛凛、高人一等的气派，可是她并没有这种气派。她也没有这样一位男人所需要的那种精力与气魄。”
托克斯小姐深深地叹了一口气。
“不过她是讨人喜欢的，”奇克夫人说道，“非常讨人喜欢。还有她的心眼儿！——啊，亲爱的，可怜的范妮心眼儿多么好啊！”
“您这小天使！”托克斯小姐对小保罗喊道，“您跟您爸爸真是长得一模一样啊！”
如果少校能知道，在那婴孩的头上寄托了多少希望与梦想，多少计划与打算的话，如果他能看到它们参差错乱、混杂无序地在一无所知的小保罗的带褶的帽子四周盘旋的话，那么他确实可能会把眼睛瞪得大大地来看的。那时候他就会从那成群的事物中辨认出属于托克斯小姐的一些野心勃勃的尘埃与光束了；那时候他也许就会明白那位女士畏畏缩缩地对董贝公司进行投资的性质了。
如果这孩子本人能在夜间醒过来，看到聚集在他的摇篮帐子周围、其他人们对他所抱的梦想的微弱的映像的话，那么它们很有理由会把他吓坏了。可是他却继续呼呼地酣睡，对托克斯小姐的善良的意图，少校的纳闷不解，他姐姐过早的悲哀和他父亲严峻的梦幻，都一概不知；他也不了解在地面上的什么地方还存在着一位董贝或一个他的儿子。
Chapter 8
Paul's Further Progress, Growth and Character
Beneath the watching and attentive eyes of Time - so far another Major - Paul's slumbers gradually changed. More and more light broke in upon them; distincter and distincter dreams disturbed them; an accumulating crowd of objects and impressions swarmed about his rest; and so he passed from babyhood to childhood, and became a talking, walking, wondering Dombey.
On the downfall and banishment of Richards, the nursery may be said to have been put into commission: as a Public Department is sometimes, when no individual Atlas can be found to support it The Commissioners were, of course, Mrs Chick and Miss Tox: who devoted themselves to their duties with such astonishing ardour that Major Bagstock had every day some new reminder of his being forsaken, while Mr Chick, bereft of domestic supervision, cast himself upon the gay world, dined at clubs and coffee-houses, smelt of smoke on three different occasions, went to the play by himself, and in short, loosened (as Mrs Chick once told him) every social bond, and moral obligation.
Yet, in spite of his early promise, all this vigilance and care could not make little Paul a thriving boy. Naturally delicate, perhaps, he pined and wasted after the dismissal of his nurse, and, for a long time, seemed but to wait his opportunity of gliding through their hands, and seeking his lost mother. This dangerous ground in his steeple-chase towards manhood passed, he still found it very rough riding, and was grievously beset by all the obstacles in his course. Every tooth was a break-neck fence, and every pimple in the measles a stone wall to him. He was down in every fit of the hooping-cough, and rolled upon and crushed by a whole field of small diseases, that came trooping on each other's heels to prevent his getting up again. Some bird of prey got into his throat instead of the thrush; and the very chickens turning ferocious - if they have anything to do with that infant malady to which they lend their name - worried him like tiger-cats.
The chill of Paul's christening had struck home, perhaps to some sensitive part of his nature, which could not recover itself in the cold shade of his father; but he was an unfortunate child from that day. Mrs Wickam often said she never see a dear so put upon.
Mrs Wickam was a waiter's wife - which would seem equivalent to being any other man's widow - whose application for an engagement in Mr Dombey's service had been favourably considered, on account of the apparent impossibility of her having any followers, or anyone to follow; and who, from within a day or two of Paul's sharp weaning, had been engaged as his nurse. Mrs Wickam was a meek woman, of a fair complexion, with her eyebrows always elevated, and her head always drooping; who was always ready to pity herself, or to be pitied, or to pity anybody else; and who had a surprising natural gift of viewing all subjects in an utterly forlorn and pitiable light, and bringing dreadful precedents to bear upon them, and deriving the greatest consolation from the exercise of that talent.
It is hardly necessary to observe, that no touch of this quality ever reached the magnificent knowledge of Mr Dombey. It would have been remarkable, indeed, if any had; when no one in the house - not even Mrs Chick or Miss Tox - dared ever whisper to him that there had, on any one occasion, been the least reason for uneasiness in reference to little Paul. He had settled, within himself, that the child must necessarily pass through a certain routine of minor maladies, and that the sooner he did so the better. If he could have bought him off, or provided a substitute, as in the case of an unlucky drawing for the militia, he would have been glad to do so, on liberal terms. But as this was not feasible, he merely wondered, in his haughty-manner, now and then, what Nature meant by it; and comforted himself with the reflection that there was another milestone passed upon the road, and that the great end of the journey lay so much the nearer. For the feeling uppermost in his mind, now and constantly intensifying, and increasing in it as Paul grew older, was impatience. Impatience for the time to come, when his visions of their united consequence and grandeur would be triumphantly realized.
Some philosophers tell us that selfishness is at the root of our best loves and affections.' Mr Dombey's young child was, from the beginning, so distinctly important to him as a part of his own greatness, or (which is the same thing) of the greatness of Dombey and Son, that there is no doubt his parental affection might have been easily traced, like many a goodly superstructure of fair fame, to a very low foundation. But he loved his son with all the love he had. If there were a warm place in his frosty heart, his son occupied it; if its very hard surface could receive the impression of any image, the image of that son was there; though not so much as an infant, or as a boy, but as a grown man - the 'Son' of the Firm. Therefore he was impatient to advance into the future, and to hurry over the intervening passages of his history. Therefore he had little or no anxiety' about them, in spite of his love; feeling as if the boy had a charmed life, and must become the man with whom he held such constant communication in his thoughts, and for whom he planned and projected, as for an existing reality, every day.
Thus Paul grew to be nearly five years old. He was a pretty little fellow; though there was something wan and wistful in his small face, that gave occasion to many significant shakes of Mrs Wickam's head, and many long-drawn inspirations of Mrs Wickam's breath. His temper gave abundant promise of being imperious in after-life; and he had as hopeful an apprehension of his own importance, and the rightful subservience of all other things and persons to it, as heart could desire. He was childish and sportive enough at times, and not of a sullen disposition; but he had a strange, old-fashioned, thoughtful way, at other times, of sitting brooding in his miniature arm-chair, when he looked (and talked) like one of those terrible little Beings in the Fairy tales, who, at a hundred and fifty or two hundred years of age, fantastically represent the children for whom they have been substituted. He would frequently be stricken with this precocious mood upstairs in the nursery; and would sometimes lapse into it suddenly, exclaiming that he was tired: even while playing with Florence, or driving Miss Tox in single harness. But at no time did he fall into it so surely, as when, his little chair being carried down into his father's room, he sat there with him after dinner, by the fire. They were the strangest pair at such a time that ever firelight shone upon. Mr Dombey so erect and solemn, gazing at the blare; his little image, with an old, old face, peering into the red perspective with the fixed and rapt attention of a sage. Mr Dombey entertaining complicated worldly schemes and plans; the little image entertaining Heaven knows what wild fancies, half-formed thoughts, and wandering speculations. Mr Dombey stiff with starch and arrogance; the little image by inheritance, and in unconscious imitation. The two so very much alike, and yet so monstrously contrasted.
