The Game Chicken, who was quite the Apollo of Mr Toots's Pantheon, had introduced to him a marker who taught billiards, a Life Guard who taught fencing, a jobmaster who taught riding, a Cornish gentleman who was up to anything in the athletic line, and two or three other friends connected no less intimately with the fine arts. Under whose auspices Mr Toots could hardly fail to improve apace, and under whose tuition he went to work.
But however it came about, it came to pass, even while these gentlemen had the gloss of novelty upon them, that Mr Toots felt, he didn't know how, unsettled and uneasy. There were husks in his corn, that even Game Chickens couldn't peck up; gloomy giants in his leisure, that even Game Chickens couldn't knock down. Nothing seemed to do Mr Toots so much good as incessantly leaving cards at Mr Dombey's door. No taxgatherer in the British Dominions - that wide-spread territory on which the sun never sets, and where the tax-gatherer never goes to bed - was more regular and persevering in his calls than Mr Toots.
Mr Toots never went upstairs; and always performed the same ceremonies, richly dressed for the purpose, at the hall door.
'Oh! Good morning!' would be Mr Toots's first remark to the servant. 'For Mr Dombey,' would be Mr Toots's next remark, as he handed in a card. 'For Miss Dombey,' would be his next, as he handed in another.
Mr Toots would then turn round as if to go away; but the man knew him by this time, and knew he wouldn't.
'Oh, I beg your pardon,' Mr Toots would say, as if a thought had suddenly descended on him. 'Is the young woman at home?'
The man would rather think she was;, but wouldn't quite know. Then he would ring a bell that rang upstairs, and would look up the staircase, and would say, yes, she was at home, and was coming down. Then Miss Nipper would appear, and the man would retire.
'Oh! How de do?' Mr Toots would say, with a chuckle and a blush.
Susan would thank him, and say she was very well.
'How's Diogenes going on?' would be Mr Toots's second interrogation.
Very well indeed. Miss Florence was fonder and fonder of him every day. Mr Toots was sure to hail this with a burst of chuckles, like the opening of a bottle of some effervescent beverage.
'Miss Florence is quite well, Sir,' Susan would add.