By George, Sir!' said the Major, 'she's superb!' 'Do you mean the daughter ?' inquired Mr Dombey.
'Is Joey B.a turnip, Dombey,' said the Major, 'that he should mean the mother ?' 'You were complimentary to the mother,' returned Mr Dombey.
'An ancient flame, Sir,' chuckled Major Bagstock.

'Devilish ancient.

I humour her.' 'She impresses me as being perfectly genteel,' said Mr Dombey.
'Genteel, Sir,' said the Major, stopping short, and staring in his companion's face.

'The Honourable Mrs Skewton, Sir, is sister to the late Lord Feenix, and aunt to the present Lord.

The family are not wealthy--they're poor, indeed--and she lives upon a small jointure; but if you come to blood, Sir!' The Major gave a flourish with his stick and walked on again, in despair of being able to say what you came to, if you came to that.
'You addressed the daughter, I observed,' said Mr Dombey, after a short pause, 'as Mrs Granger.' 'Edith Skewton, Sir,' returned the Major, stopping short again, and punching a mark in the ground with his cane, to represent her, 'married (at eighteen) Granger of Ours;' whom the Major indicated by another punch.