Come along,
Miss Dombey, let me see the villain who will molest you now!"
So Walter, looking immensely fierce, led off Florence looking very
happy; and as Mr. Dombey's office was closed for the night, he led her
to his uncle's, to leave her there while he should go and tell Mr.
Dombey that she was safe, and bring her back some clothes.
"Halloa, Uncle Sol," cried Walter, bursting into the shop; "Here's a
wonderful adventure! Here's Mr. Dombey's daughter lost in the streets,
and robbed of her clothes by an old witch of a woman--found by
me--brought home to our parlor to rest--Here--just help me lift the
little sofa near the fire, will you, uncle Sol?--Cut some dinner for
her, will you, uncle; throw those shoes under the grate, Miss
Florence--put your feet on the fender to dry--how damp they are!--Here's
an adventure, uncle, eh?--God bless my soul, how hot I am!"
Solomon Gills was quite as hot, by sympathy; and in excessive
bewilderment, he patted Florence's head, pressed her to eat, pressed her
to drink, rubbed the soles of her feet with his pocket-handkerchief,
heated at the fire, followed his locomotive nephew with his eyes and
ears, and had no clear perception of anything except that he was being
constantly knocked against, and tumbled over by that excited young
gentleman, as he darted about the room, attempting to accomplish twenty
things at once, and doing nothing at all.
"Here, wait a minute, uncle," he continued, "till I run upstairs and get
another jacket on, and then I'll be off.
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