The Captain beckoned to Mr Toots, who followed him with a bewildered countenance, and, ascending to the top of the house, was introduced, without a word of preparation from his conductor, into Florence’s new retreat.
Poor Mr Toots’s amazement and pleasure at sight of her were such, that they could find a vent in nothing but extravagance. He ran up to her, seized her hand, kissed it, dropped it, seized it again, fell upon one knee, shed tears, chuckled, and was quite regardless of his danger of being pinned by Diogenes, who, inspired by the belief that there was something hostile to his mistress in these demonstrations, worked round and round him, as if only undecided at what particular point to go in for the assault, but quite resolved to do him a fearful mischief.
“Oh Di, you bad, forgetful dog! Dear Mr Toots, I am so rejoiced to see you!”
“Thankee,” said Mr Toots, “I am pretty well, I’m much obliged to you, Miss Dombey. I hope all the family are the same.”
Mr Toots said this without the least notion of what he was talking about, and sat down on a chair, staring at Florence with the liveliest contention of delight and despair going on in his face that any face could exhibit.
“Captain Gills and Lieutenant Walters have mentioned, Miss Dombey,” gasped Mr Toots, “that I can do you some service. If I could by any means wash out the remembrance of that day at Brighton, when I conducted myself—much more like a Parricide than a person of independent property,” said Mr Toots, with severe self-accusation, “I should sink into the silent tomb with a gleam of joy.”
“Pray, Mr Toots,” said Florence, “do not wish me to forget anything in our acquaintance. I never can, believe me. You have been far too kind and good to me always.”
“Miss Dombey,” returned Mr Toots, “your consideration for my feelings is a part of your angelic character. Thank you a thousand times. It’s of no consequence at all.”
“What we thought of asking you,” said Florence, “is, whether you remember where Susan, whom you were so kind as to accompany to the coach-office when she left me, is to be found.”
“Why I do not certainly, Miss Dombey,” said Mr Toots, after a little consideration, “remember the exact name of the place that was on the coach; and I do recollect that she said she was not going to stop there, but was going farther on. But, Miss Dombey, if your object is to find her, and to have her here, myself and the Chicken will produce her with every dispatch that devotion on my part, and great intelligence on the Chicken’s, can ensure.”