His little daughter hesitated for another instant, as though she would have clung about him still, or had some lingering hope that he might raise her in his arms and kiss her.  But he dropped her hand and turned away.  Still Polly persevered, and managed so well with little Paul as to make it very plain that he was all the livelier for his sister’s company.  When it was time for Florence to go to bed, the nurse urged her to say good night to her father, but the child hesitated, and Mr. Dombey called from the inner room; “It doesn’t matter.  You can let her come and go without regarding me.”

The child shrunk as she listened, and was gone before her humble friend looked around again.

* * * * *

Just around the corner from Mr. Dombey’s office was the little shop of a nautical-instrument maker whose name was Solomon Gills.  The stock-in-trade of this old gentleman comprised chronometers, barometers, telescopes, compasses, charts, maps, and every kind of an instrument used in the working of a ship’s course, or the keeping of a ship’s reckoning, or the prosecuting of a ship’s discovery.  Old prints of ships hung in frames upon the walls; outlandish shells, seaweeds and mosses decorated the chimney-piece; the little wainscoted parlor was lighted by a skylight, like a cabin, The shop itself seemed almost to become a sea-going ship-shape concern, wanting only good sea room, in the event of an unexpected launch, to work its way securely to any desert island in the world.

Here Solomon Gills lived, in skipper-like state, all alone with his nephew, Walter; a boy of fourteen, who looked quite enough like a midshipman to carry out the prevailing idea.

It is half past five o’clock, and an autumn afternoon.  Solomon Gills is wondering where Walter is, when a voice exclaims, “Halloa, Uncle Sol!” and the instrument-maker, turning briskly around, sees a cheerful-looking, merry boy fresh with running home in the rain; fair-faced, bright-eyed and curly-haired.

“Well, uncle, how have you got on without me all day?  Is dinner ready?  I’m so hungry.”

“As to getting on,” said Solomon, good-naturedly, “It would be odd if I couldn’t get on without a young dog like you a great deal better than with you.  As to dinner being ready, it’s been waiting for you this half-hour.  As to being hungry, I am!”

“Come along, then, uncle!” cried the boy, and Uncle Sol and his nephew were speedily engaged on a fried sole, with a prospect of steak to follow.

“Now,” said the old man eagerly, “Let’s hear something about the Firm.”

“Oh! there’s not much to be told, uncle,” said the boy, plying his knife and fork.  “When Mr. Dombey came in, he walked up to my seat—­I wish he wasn’t so solemn and stiff, uncle—­and told me you had spoken to him about me, and that he had found me employment in the House accordingly, and that I was expected to be attentive and punctual, and then he went away.  I thought he didn’t seem to like me much.”