Florence laid her head against his pillow, and whispered how much stronger he was growing. "Oh, yes, I know, I am a great deal better," said Paul, "a very great deal better. Listen, Floy; what is it the sea keeps saying?" "Nothing, dear, it is only the rolling of the waves you hear." "Yes, but they are always saying something, and always the same thing. What place is over there, Floy?" She told him there was another country opposite, but Paul said he did not mean that, he meant somewhere much farther away, oh, much farther away--and often he would break off in the midst of their talk to listen to the sea and gaze out towards that country "farther away." After having lived at Brighton for a year, Paul was certainly much stronger, though still thin and delicate. And on one of his weekly visits, Mr. Dombey explained to Mrs. Pipchin, with pompous condescension, that Paul's weak health having kept him back in his studies, he had made arrangements to place him at the educational establishment of Dr. Blimber, which was close by. Florence was, for the present, to remain under Mrs. Pipchin's care, and see her brother every week. Dr. Blimber's school was a great hot-house for the forcing of boy's brains; and Dr. Blimber promised speedily to make a man of Paul. "Shall you like to be made a man of, my son?" asked Mr. Dombey. "I'd rather be a child and stay with Floy," answered Paul. Miss Blimber, the doctor's daughter, a learned lady in spectacles, was his special tutor, and from morning till night his poor little brains were forced and crammed till his head was heavy and always had a dull ache in it, and his small legs grew weak again--every day he looked a little thinner and a little paler, and became more old-fashioned than ever in his looks and ways--"old-fashioned" was a distinguishing title which clung to him. He was gentle and polite to every one--always looking out for small kindnesses which he might do to any inmate of the house. "The oddest and most old-fashioned child in the world," Dr. Blimber would say to his daughter; "but bring him on, Cornelia--bring him on." And Cornelia did bring him on; and Florence, seeing how pale and weary the little fellow looked when he came to her on Saturdays, and how he could not rest from anxiety about his lessons, would lighten his labors a little, and ease his mind by helping him to prepare his week's work. But one day, when his lessons were over, little Paul laid his weary and aching head against the knee of a schoolfellow of whom he was very fond; and the first thing he noticed when he opened his eyes was that the window was open, his face and hair were wet with water, and that Dr. Blimber and the usher were both standing looking at him. "Ah, that's well," said Dr. Blimber, as Paul opened his eyes, "and how is my little friend now?"