“He knows all about her already, you see,” said the instrument-maker.

“Nonsense, uncle,” cried the boy reddening again; “how can I help hearing what they tell me?”

“The son’s a little in our way at present, I’m afraid,” added the old man, humoring the joke.  “Nevertheless, we’ll drink to him,” pursued Sol.  “So, here’s to Dombey and Son.”

“Oh, very well, uncle,” said the boy merrily.  “Since you have introduced the mention of her, and have said that I know all about her, I shall make bold to amend the toast.  So,—­here’s to Dombey—­and Son—­and Daughter!”

Meanwhile, in Mr. Dombey’s mansion, baby Paul was thriving under the watchful care of Polly Richards, Mr. Dombey, and Mr. Dombey’s friends, and the day of his christening arrived.  On that important occasion, the baby’s excitement was so great that no one could soothe him until Florence was summoned.  As she hid behind her nurse, he followed her with his eyes; and when she peeped out with a merry cry to him, he sprang up and crowed lustily—­laughing outright when she ran in upon him, and seeming to fondle her curls with his tiny hands while she smothered him with kisses.

Was Mr. Dombey pleased to see this?  He did not show it.  If any sunbeam stole into the room to light the children at their play, it never reached his face.  He looked on so coldly that the warm light vanished, even from the laughing eyes of little Florence when, at last, they happened to meet his.

The contemplation of Paul in his christening robe made his nurse yearn for a sight of her own first-born, although this was a pleasure strictly forbidden by Mr. Dombey’s orders.  But the longing so overpowered her that she consulted Miss Nipper as to the possibility of gratifying it, and that young woman, eager herself for an expedition, urged Polly to visit her home.  So, the next morning the two nurses set out together:  Richards carrying Paul, and Susan leading little Florence by the hand, and giving her such jerks and pokes as she considered it wholesome to administer.  Then for a brief half-hour, Polly enjoyed the longed-for pleasure of being again in the bosom of her family, but the visit had a sad ending, for on the way back, passing through a crowded thoroughfare the little party became separated.  A thundering alarm of Mad Bull! was raised.  With a wild confusion of people running up and down, and shouting, and wheels running over them, and boys fighting, and mad bulls coming up, and the nurse in the midst of all these dangers, being torn to pieces, Florence screamed and ran.  She ran until she was exhausted, then found with a sensation of terror not to be described, that she was quite alone.

“Susan!  Susan!” cried Florence.  “Oh, where are they?”

“Where are they?” said an old woman, hobbling across from the opposite side of the road.  “Why did you run away from ’em?”

“I was frightened,” answered Florence.  “I didn’t know what I did.  I thought they were with me.  Where are they?”