Walter, bending down his own, raised it again, all red and burning; and looked at Uncle Sol, quite sheepishly.
'Where's Walter ?' 'Good-night, Walter!' 'Good-bye, Walter!' 'Shake hands once more, Walter!' This was still Florence's cry, after she was shut up with her little maid, in the coach.

And when the coach at length moved off, Walter on the door-step gaily turned the waving of her handkerchief, while the wooden Midshipman behind him seemed, like himself, intent upon that coach alone, excluding all the other passing coaches from his observation.
In good time Mr Dombey's mansion was gained again, and again there was a noise of tongues in the library.

Again, too, the coach was ordered to wait--'for Mrs Richards,' one of Susan's fellow-servants ominously whispered, as she passed with Florence.
The entrance of the lost child made a slight sensation, but not much.

Mr Dombey, who had never found her, kissed her once upon the forehead, and cautioned her not to run away again, or wander anywhere with treacherous attendants.

Mrs Chick stopped in her lamentations on the corruption of human nature, even when beckoned to the paths of virtue by a Charitable Grinder; and received her with a welcome something short of the reception due to none but perfect Dombeys.