“Do you know, then,” pursued Carker, “that I have not found my friend—our friend, I ought rather to call him—”
“Meaning Dombey, Sir?” cried the Major. “You see me, Mr Carker, standing here! J. B.?”
He was puffy enough to see, and blue enough; and Mr Carker intimated the he had that pleasure.
“Then you see a man, Sir, who would go through fire and water to serve Dombey,” returned Major Bagstock.
Mr Carker smiled, and said he was sure of it. “Do you know, Major,” he proceeded: “to resume where I left off: that I have not found our friend so attentive to business today, as usual?”
“No?” observed the delighted Major.
“I have found him a little abstracted, and with his attention disposed to wander,” said Carker.
“By Jove, Sir,” cried the Major, “there’s a lady in the case.”
“Indeed, I begin to believe there really is,” returned Carker; “I thought you might be jesting when you seemed to hint at it; for I know you military men”—
The Major gave the horse’s cough, and shook his head and shoulders, as much as to say, “Well! we are gay dogs, there’s no denying.” He then seized Mr Carker by the button-hole, and with starting eyes whispered in his ear, that she was a woman of extraordinary charms, Sir. That she was a young widow, Sir. That she was of a fine family, Sir. That Dombey was over head and ears in love with her, Sir, and that it would be a good match on both sides; for she had beauty, blood, and talent, and Dombey had fortune; and what more could any couple have? Hearing Mr Dombey’s footsteps without, the Major cut himself short by saying, that Mr Carker would see her tomorrow morning, and would judge for himself; and between his mental excitement, and the exertion of saying all this in wheezy whispers, the Major sat gurgling in the throat and watering at the eyes, until dinner was ready.