New-York daily tribune. [volume] (New-York [N.Y.]) 1842-1866, 1847-09-22


new and handsome gsrniture, and barely CHANGING
at them a. she passed, sat down by Florence
my dear Dombey' said Mrs SkewtOn, " now
charmingy these people have carried out every
idea that we limited. They have made perfect
palace u the house positively
1t is handsome, said Mr. DOmbey, looking
round. 81 directed that no expense should be
spared aud oil that money could do has been
done, believe
And what can it not do, dear Dombey ?" OBJ
served Cleopatra
ut is powerful. madam, said Mr.. Dombey.
He looked in his solemn way toward his wife,
but not a word said she
" ! hope. Mrs Dombey" addressing her after
momentssilence with especial distinctness that
these alterations meet with your approval
They are as handsome as they can be, she
returned, with naughty carelessness. They should
be 50, Of course. And suppose they are"
An expression OF scOrn was habitual 10 the proud
face and seemed insepsrable from it but the con
tempt with which it received any appeal to admi
ration, respect, or consideration on the ground Of
its riches no matter how slight ordinary IN IL
self was a new and different expression, unequaled
in intensity by any other Of which 1t was capable
Whether Mr. DOmbey, wrapped in his own great
ness, was at all aware OF this or there had
not been wanting opportunities already for his com
plete enlightenment and at that moment It might
have been effected by the one glance Of the dark
eye that lighted on him. after 1t had rapidly and
scornfolly surveyed the theme OF his self glOriica
ton. he might have read In that one glance that
nothing that bis wealth could do though it were
increased ten thousand fold, could win him for its
own sake, one look of sOitened recognition from
the defiant woman linked % him, but array ed with
her whole soul against him. He might have read
in that one glance that even for its sordid and mer
cenary influence upon herself she spurned 1t, while
she claimed its utmost power as her right her bar
I gain-as the base and worthless recompense Tor
which she had become his wife. He might have
Z read in it that, ever barring her own head Tor the
lightning OF her own contempt and pride TO strike,
the innocent ausion TO the power oil his riches
degraded her anew, sunk her deeper in her own
respect and made the blight and waste within her
more complete.
But dinner was announced, and Mr.. Dombey led
| down Cleopatra Edith and his daughter following
Sweeping past the gold and silver demonstration on
the sideboard as il it were heapedup dirt, and
deiguine 10 bestow no look upon the elegancies
around her, she took her place at his board for the
first time, aud sat like statue, at the least
Mr. Dombey, being a good deal in the statue way
himself was well enough pleased 10 see his hand
some wife immovabe and proud and cold. Her
department being al ways elegant aid graceful, this
as a general behavior. was agreeable and coDgenal
to him. Presiding, therefore, with his accustomed
dig ity and not at all rejecting his wife by any
warmth or hilarity Of his own, he performed his
share of his honors OF the table with cool salts
faction and the installation dinner, though not re
garded down stairs as great success or very
promising beginning, passed off, above, IN sufh-
cienty polite. gentee, and frosty manner.
Soon after tea, Mrs. Skewton, who affected TO be
quite overcome and out by her emotions OF
happiness, arising in the contemplation OF her dear
child united to the man OF her heart but who there
is reason to suppose, found this family party some
what dull. as she yawned Tor one hour continually
behind her fan retired to bed Edith, also. silently
withdrew and came back no more. Thus 1t hap
pened that Florence who had been stairs to have
some conversation with Diogenes, returning to the
drawing room with her little work basket found no
one there but her father, who was walking to and
/ fro. in dreary magnihcence.
| beg your pardon. Shall go away papa
said Florence family, hesitating at the door.
"No,' returned Mr.. DOmbey, looking over his
shoulder, you can come and 90 here Florence, as
you please This is is not my private room"
Florence entered and sat down at a distant little
table with her work finding herself Tor the first
time in her liie-or the very first time within her
memory from her infancy TO that hour-aloDe with
her father as his companion She, his natural COM
panon, his only child, who in her lonely life and
griei had known the suffering OF breaking heart
who, in her rejected love, had never breathed his
name to God at night but with with fearful bless
lag, heavier on him than curse who had prayed
to die young, SO she might only die in bis arms
who had, all through, repaid the agony OF slight and
GOODNESS, and dislike. with patient, unexacting love
excusing him, and pleading for him, like his better
angel!
she trembled, and her eyes were dim. His figure
seemed to grow in hight and bulk before her as he
paced the room now 1t was all blurred and lndls-
tnct now clear again. and plain; and now she
seemed to think that this had happened, just the
same, a multitude OF years ago. She yearned
toward him. and yet shrunk from his approach
Unnatural emotion in child innocent Of wrong !
Unnatural the hand that had directed the sharp
plow which furrowed up her gentle nature for the
sowing OF its seed
Bent upon not distressing or offending him by her
distress Florence controlled herself, and sat quietly
at her work. After few more turns across and
across the room, he left of pacing IT. and with
drawing into a shadowy corner at some distance,
where there was easy chair, covered hls head
with handkerchief, and composed himself to sleep
1t was enough for Florence to SIT there watching
him: turning her eyes toward his char from time
To time watching him with ner thoughts, when her
face was intent upon her work and sorrowiuly
clad TO think that he could sleep while she was
there and that he was not made restless by her
strange and long forbidden presence.
What would have been her thoughts if she had
known that he was steadily regarding her that the
veil upon his face, by accident or by design was So
adjusted that his sight was free, and that 1t never
wandered from her face an instant. That when she
looked toward him. in the obscure dark corner her
speaking ewes more earnest and pathetic III Their
voiceess speech than all the orators of all the
world, and impeaching him more nearly In their
mute address, met his ana ala not knO" IL luhl
when she bent her head again over her work, he
drew his breath more easily, but with the same at
tenton looked upon her sti-upon her white brow
and her falling hair, and busy hands and once at
tracted, seemed to have no power TO turn his eyes
away ~
And what were his thoughts meanwhile With
what emotions did he prolong the attentive gaze
coyertiy directed on his unknown daughter Was
there reproach to him in the quiet figure and the
mild ewes Had he began to feel her disregarded
claims and did they touch him home at last and
waken him to some sense Of his cruel injustice
There are yielding moments in the lives OF The
sternest and harshest men, though such men often
keep their secret well The sight OF her IN her
beauty. almost changed into a woman without his
( knowledge. may have struck out some such mo-
ments even in his life of pride. Some passing
thought that he had had happy home within ms
/ reach-had had household spirit bending at his
feet-had overlook ed II in his stiff, necked. sullen ar
rogance and wandered away and lost himself, may
| have ensendered them. Some simple eloquence
distinctly heard though only uttered in her eyes,
unconscious that he read them, as ." BY the death
beds have tended by the childhood have suffered,
by our meeting in this dreary house at midnight by
the cry wrung from me in the anguish Of my heart,
/ oh father turn to me and seek refuge In my love