‘Ay,’ said Charles, ‘and who haunts that rubbish at the beginning of every month? I suppose to act as pioneer, though whether any one but Laura heeds his warnings, remains to be proved.’
‘Laura does heed?’ asked Philip, well pleased.
‘I made her read me the part of Dombey that hurts women’s feelings most, just to see if she would go on—the part about little Paul—and I declare, I shall think the worse of her ever after—she was so stony hearted, that to this day she does not know whether he is dead or alive.’
‘I can’t quite say I don’t know whether he lived or died,’ said Laura, ‘for I found Amy in a state that alarmed me, crying in the green-house, and I was very glad to find it was nothing worse than little Paul.’
‘I wish you would have read it,’ said Amy; and looking shyly at Guy, she added—‘Won’t you?’
‘Well done, Amy!’ said Charles. ‘In the very face of the young man’s companion!’
‘Philip does not really think it wrong,’ said Amy.
‘No,’ said Philip; ‘those books open fields of thought, and as their principles are negative, they are not likely to hurt a person well armed with the truth.’
‘Meaning,’ said Charles, ‘that Guy and Laura have your gracious permission to read Dombey.’
‘When Laura has a cold or toothache.’