LittleDorritVol.I

ByCharlesDickens

LittleDorrit

BOOKTHEFIRST:POVERTY

CHAPTER1.

SunandShadow

Thirtyyearsago,Marseilleslayburninginthesun,oneday.

A blazing sun upon a fierce August day was no greater rarity in southernFrancethen,thanatanyothertime,beforeorsince.EverythinginMarseilles,andaboutMarseilles,hadstaredatthefervidsky,andbeenstaredatinreturn,untilastaringhabithadbecomeuniversalthere.Strangerswerestaredoutofcountenancebystaringwhitehouses,staringwhitewalls,staringwhitestreets,

staring tractsof arid road, staringhills fromwhichverdurewasburnt away.The only things to be seen not fixedly staring and glaring were the vinesdroopingunder their loadofgrapes.Thesedidoccasionallywinka little, asthehotairbarelymovedtheirfaintleaves.

Therewasnowindtomakearippleonthefoulwaterwithintheharbour,oronthebeautiful seawithout.The line of demarcationbetween the two colours,blackandblue,showedthepointwhichthepureseawouldnotpass;butitlayas quiet as the abominable pool, with which it nevermixed. Boats withoutawningsweretoohottotouch;shipsblisteredattheirmoorings;thestonesofthe quays had not cooled, night or day, for months. Hindoos, Russians,Chinese, Spaniards, Portuguese, Englishmen, Frenchmen, Genoese,Neapolitans, Venetians, Greeks, Turks, descendants from all the builders ofBabel,cometotradeatMarseilles,soughttheshadealiketakingrefugeinanyhidingplacefromaseatoointenselybluetobelookedat,andaskyofpurple,setwithonegreatflamingjeweloffire.

The universal stare made the eyes ache. Towards the distant line of Italiancoast,indeed,itwasalittlerelievedbylightcloudsofmist,slowlyrisingfromtheevaporationofthesea,butitsoftenednowhereelse.Farawaythestaringroads, deep in dust, stared from the hillside, stared from the hollow, staredfrom the interminable plain. Far away the dusty vines overhangingwaysidecottages,andthemonotonouswaysideavenuesofparchedtreeswithoutshade,drooped beneath the stare of earth and sky. So did the horses with drowsybells, in longfilesofcarts,creepingslowly towards the interior;sodid theirrecumbentdrivers,whentheywereawake,whichrarelyhappened;sodidtheexhaustedlabourersinthefields.Everythingthatlivedorgrew,wasoppressedbytheglare;exceptthelizard,passingswiftlyoverroughstonewalls,andthecicala, chirping his dry hot chirp, like a rattle. The very dust was scorchedbrown, and something quivered in the atmosphere as if the air itself werepanting.

Blinds,shutters,curtains,awnings,wereallclosedanddrawntokeepoutthestare.Grantitbutachinkorkeyhole,anditshotinlikeawhitehotarrow.Thechurcheswere the freest from it. To come out of the twilight of pillars andarchesdreamily dotted with winking lamps, dreamily peopled with ugly oldshadowspiouslydozing,spitting,andbeggingwastoplungeintoafieryriver,andswimforlife totheneareststripofshade.So,withpeopleloungingandlyingwherevershadewas,withbutlittlehumoftonguesorbarkingofdogs,with occasional jangling of discordant church bells and rattling of viciousdrums,Marseilles,afacttobestronglysmeltandtasted,laybroilinginthesunone day. InMarseilles that day there was a villainous prison. In one of itschambers,sorepulsiveaplacethateventheobtrusivestareblinkedatit,and

leftittosuchrefuseofreflectedlightasitcouldfindforitself,weretwomen.Besides the twomen, a notched and disfigured bench, immovable from thewall,withadraughtboardrudelyhackeduponitwithaknife,asetofdraughts,madeofoldbuttonsandsoupbones,asetofdominoes,twomats,andtwoorthreewinebottles.Thatwasallthechamberheld,exclusiveofratsandotherunseenvermin,inadditiontotheseenvermin,thetwomen.

Itreceivedsuchlightasitgotthroughagratingofironbarsfashionedlikeaprettylargewindow,bymeansofwhichitcouldbealwaysinspectedfromthegloomystaircaseonwhichthegratinggave.Therewasabroadstrongledgeofstonetothisgratingwherethebottomofitwasletintothemasonry,threeorfourfeetabovetheground.Uponit,oneofthetwomenlolled,halfsittingandhalflying,withhiskneesdrawnup,andhisfeetandshouldersplantedagainsttheoppositesidesoftheaperture.Thebarswerewideenoughaparttoadmitofhis thrustinghisarmthroughto theelbow;andsoheheldonnegligently,forhisgreaterease.

A prison taint was on everything there. The imprisoned air, the imprisonedlight, the imprisoned damps, the imprisoned men, were all deteriorated byconfinement. As the captive men were faded and haggard, so the iron wasrusty,thestonewasslimy,thewoodwasrotten,theairwasfaint,thelightwasdim.Likeawell,likeavault,likeatomb,theprisonhadnoknowledgeofthebrightnessoutside,andwouldhavekeptitspollutedatmosphereintactinoneofthespiceislandsoftheIndianocean.

Themanwholayontheledgeofthegratingwasevenchilled.Hejerkedhisgreatcloakmoreheavilyuponhimbyanimpatientmovementofoneshoulder,and growled, 'To the devil with this Brigand of a Sun that never shines inhere!'

Hewaswaitingtobefed,lookingsidewaysthroughthebarsthathemightseethe further down the stairs, withmuch of the expression of awild beast insimilarexpectation.Buthiseyes,tooclosetogether,werenotsonoblysetinhisheadas thoseof thekingofbeastsare inhis,andtheyweresharpratherthan brightpointedweaponswith little surface to betray them. They had nodepthorchange;theyglittered,andtheyopenedandshut.Sofar,andwaivingtheir use to himself, a clockmaker could havemade a better pair.He had ahooknose,handsomeafteritskind,buttoohighbetweentheeyesbyprobablyjust asmuch as his eyeswere too near to one another. For the rest, hewaslargeandtallinframe,hadthinlips,wherehisthickmoustacheshowedthematall,andaquantityofdryhair,ofnodefinablecolour,initsshaggystate,butshotwithred.Thehandwithwhichheheld thegrating(seamedallover theback with ugly scratches newly healed), was unusually small and plump;wouldhavebeenunusuallywhitebutfortheprisongrime.Theothermanwas

lyingonthestonefloor,coveredwithacoarsebrowncoat.

'Getup,pig!'growledthefirst.'Don'tsleepwhenIamhungry.'

'It's all one, master,' said the pig, in a submissive manner, and not withoutcheerfulness;'IcanwakewhenIwill,IcansleepwhenIwill.It'sallthesame.'

Ashe said it,he rose, shookhimself, scratchedhimself, tiedhisbrowncoatlooselyroundhisneckbythesleeves(hehadpreviouslyuseditasacoverlet),and sat down upon the pavement yawning, with his back against the walloppositetothegrating.

'Saywhatthehouris,'grumbledthefirstman.

'Themiddaybellswillringinfortyminutes.'Whenhemadethelittlepause,hehadlookedroundtheprisonroom,asifforcertaininformation.

'Youareaclock.Howisitthatyoualwaysknow?'

'How can I say? I always know what the hour is, and where I am. I wasbroughtinhereatnight,andoutofaboat,butIknowwhereIam.Seehere!Marseillesharbour;'onhiskneeson thepavement,mapping italloutwithaswarthyforefinger; 'Toulon(wherethegalleysare),Spainoverthere,Algiersover there. Creeping away to the left here, Nice. Round by the Cornice toGenoa. Genoa Mole and Harbour. Quarantine Ground. City there; terracegardens blushing with the bella donna. Here, Porto Fino. Stand out forLeghorn. Out again for CivitaVecchia, so away tohey! there's no room forNaples;'hehadgottothewallbythistime;'butit'sallone;it'sinthere!'

Heremainedonhisknees,lookingupathisfellowprisonerwithalivelylookfor a prison. A sunburnt, quick, lithe, little man, though rather thickset.Earringsinhisbrownears,whiteteethlightinguphisgrotesquebrownface,intenselyblackhairclusteringabouthisbrownthroat,araggedredshirtopenathisbrownbreast.Loose,seamanliketrousers,decentshoes,alongredcap,aredsashroundhiswaist,andaknifeinit.

'Judge if I come back fromNaples as I went! See here, mymaster! CivitaVecchia,Leghorn,PortoFino,Genoa,Cornice,OffNice (which is in there),Marseilles,youandme.TheapartmentofthejailerandhiskeysiswhereIputthis thumb; and here atmywrist they keep the national razor in its casetheguillotinelockedup.'

Theothermanspatsuddenlyonthepavement,andgurgledinhisthroat.

Somelockbelowgurgledinitsthroatimmediatelyafterwards,andthenadoorcrashed. Slow steps began ascending the stairs; the prattle of a sweet little

voice mingled with the noise they made; and the prisonkeeper appearedcarryinghisdaughter,threeorfouryearsold,andabasket.

'Howgoestheworldthisforenoon,gentlemen?Mylittleone,yousee,goingroundwithmetohaveapeepatherfather'sbirds.Fie,then!Lookatthebirds,mypretty,lookatthebirds.'

He looked sharply at the birds himself, as he held the child up at the grate,especially at the little bird, whose activity he seemed to mistrust. 'I havebroughtyourbread,SignorJohnBaptist,'saidhe(theyallspokeinFrench,butthelittlemanwasanItalian);'andifImightrecommendyounottogame'

'Youdon'trecommendthemaster!'saidJohnBaptist,showinghisteethashesmiled.

'Oh! but the master wins,' returned the jailer, with a passing look of noparticularlikingattheotherman, 'andyoulose.It'squiteanotherthing.Yougethuskybreadand sourdrinkby it; andhegets sausageofLyons, veal insavouryjelly,whitebread,strachinocheese,andgoodwinebyit.Lookatthebirds,mypretty!'

'Poorbirds!'saidthechild.

Thefair littleface, touchedwithdivinecompassion,asitpeepedshrinkinglythrough the grate, was like an angel's in the prison. John Baptist rose andmoved towards it, as if it had a good attraction for him. The other birdremainedasbefore,exceptforanimpatientglanceatthebasket.

'Stay!'saidthejailer,puttinghislittledaughterontheouterledgeofthegrate,'she shall feed the birds. This big loaf is for Signor JohnBaptist.Wemustbreakittogetitthroughintothecage.So,there'satamebirdtokissthelittlehand!This sausage in avine leaf is forMonsieurRigaud.Againthis veal insavouryjellyisforMonsieurRigaud.AgainthesethreewhitelittleloavesareforMonsieurRigaud.Again,thischeeseagain,thiswineagain,thistobaccoallforMonsieurRigaud.Luckybird!'

The child put all these things between the bars into the soft, Smooth,wellshaped hand, with evident dreadmore than once drawing back her ownandlookingatthemanwithherfairbrowroughenedintoanexpressionhalfoffrightandhalfofanger.Whereasshehadputthelumpofcoarsebreadintotheswart, scaled,knottedhandsofJohnBaptist (whohadscarcelyasmuchnailonhiseightfingersandtwothumbsaswouldhavemadeoutoneforMonsieurRigaud), with ready confidence; and, when he kissed her hand, had herselfpassed it caressingly over his face. Monsieur Rigaud, indifferent to thisdistinction,propitiatedthefatherbylaughingandnoddingat thedaughteras

oftenas shegavehimanything; and, so soonashehadallhisviandsabouthiminconvenientnooksoftheledgeonwhichherested,begantoeatwithanappetite.

WhenMonsieur Rigaud laughed, a change took place in his face, that wasmoreremarkablethanprepossessing.Hismoustachewentupunderhisnose,and his nose came down over his moustache, in a very sinister and cruelmanner.

'There!'saidthejailer,turninghisbasketupsidedowntobeatthecrumbsout,'Ihaveexpendedall themoneyIreceived;here is thenoteof it,andthat'sathingaccomplished.MonsieurRigaud,as Iexpectedyesterday, thePresidentwilllookforthepleasureofyoursocietyatanhouraftermidday,today.'

'Totryme,eh?'saidRigaud,pausing,knifeinhandandmorselinmouth.

'Youhavesaidit.Totryyou.'

'Thereisnonewsforme?'askedJohnBaptist,whohadbegun,contentedly,tomunchhisbread.

Thejailershruggedhisshoulders.

'Ladyofmine!AmItoliehereallmylife,myfather?'

'WhatdoIknow!'criedthejailer,turninguponhimwithsouthernquickness,and gesticulating with both his hands and all his fingers, as if he werethreateningtotearhimtopieces. 'Myfriend,howisitpossibleformetotellhowlongyouaretoliehere?WhatdoIknow,JohnBaptistCavalletto?Deathofmylife!Thereareprisonersheresometimes,whoarenotinsuchadevilofahurrytobetried.'HeseemedtoglanceobliquelyatMonsieurRigaudinthisremark;butMonsieurRigaudhadalreadyresumedhismeal,thoughnotwithquitesoquickanappetiteasbefore.

'Adieu,mybirds!'saidthekeeperoftheprison,takinghisprettychildinhisarms,anddictatingthewordswithakiss.

'Adieu,mybirds!'theprettychildrepeated.

Her innocent face looked back so brightly over his shoulder, as he walkedawaywithher,singingherthesongofthechild'sgame:

'Whopassesbythisroadsolate?

CompagnondelaMajolaine!

Whopassesbythisroadsolate?

Alwaysgay!'

thatJohnBaptistfeltitapointofhonourtoreplyatthegrate,andingoodtimeandtune,thoughalittlehoarsely:

'Ofalltheking'sknights'tistheflower,

CompagnondelaMajolaine!

Ofalltheking'sknights'tistheflower,

Alwaysgay!'

which accompanied them so far down the few steep stairs, that theprisonkeeperhadtostopatlastforhislittledaughtertohearthesongout,andrepeat the Refrain while they were yet in sight. Then the child's headdisappeared, and the prisonkeeper's head disappeared, but the little voiceprolongedthestrainuntilthedoorclashed.

Monsieur Rigaud, finding the listening John Baptist in his way before theechoeshad ceased (even the echoeswere theweaker for imprisonment, andseemedtolag),remindedhimwithapushofhisfootthathehadbetterresumehisowndarkerplace.Thelittlemansatdownagainuponthepavementwiththenegligenteaseofonewhowasthoroughlyaccustomedtopavements;andplacing three hunks of coarse bread before himself, and falling to upon afourth,begancontentedlytoworkhiswaythroughthemasiftoclearthemoffwereasortofgame.

PerhapsheglancedattheLyonssausage,andperhapsheglancedatthevealinsavoury jelly, but they were not there long, to make his mouth water;MonsieurRigaudsoondispatchedthem,inspiteofthepresidentandtribunal,andproceededtosuckhisfingersascleanashecould,andtowipethemonhis vine leaves. Then, as he paused in his drink to contemplate hisfellowprisoner,hismoustachewentup,andhisnosecamedown.

'Howdoyoufindthebread?'

'Alittledry,butIhavemyoldsaucehere,'returnedJohnBaptist,holdinguphisknife.'Howsauce?'

'I can cutmybread solike amelon.Or solike anomelette.Or solike a friedfish.Or solike Lyons sausage,' said JohnBaptist, demonstrating the variouscutsonthebreadheheld,andsoberlychewingwhathehadinhismouth.

'Here!'criedMonsieurRigaud.'Youmaydrink.Youmayfinishthis.'

Itwasnogreatgift,fortherewasmightylittlewineleft;butSignorCavalletto,

jumpingtohisfeet,receivedthebottlegratefully,turneditupsidedownathismouth,andsmackedhislips.

'Putthebottlebywiththerest,'saidRigaud.

Thelittlemanobeyedhisorders,andstoodreadytogivehimalightedmatch;forhewasnowrollinghistobaccointocigarettesbytheaidoflittlesquaresofpaperwhichhadbeenbroughtinwithit.

'Here!Youmayhaveone.'

'A thousand thanks,mymaster!' JohnBaptist said in his own language, andwiththequickconciliatorymannerofhisowncountrymen.

Monsieur Rigaud arose, lighted a cigarette, put the rest of his stock into abreastpocket, and stretched himself out at full length upon the bench.Cavallettosatdownonthepavement,holdingoneofhisanklesineachhand,andsmokingpeacefully.ThereseemedtobesomeuncomfortableattractionofMonsieurRigaud's eyes to the immediate neighbourhood of that part of thepavementwherethethumbhadbeenintheplan.Theyweresodrawninthatdirection,thattheItalianmorethanoncefollowedthemtoandbackfromthepavementinsomesurprise.

'Whataninfernalholethisis!'saidMonsieurRigaud,breakingalongpause.'Look at the light of day.Day? the light of yesterdayweek, the light of sixmonthsago,thelightofsixyearsago.Soslackanddead!'

It came languishing down a square funnel that blinded a window in thestaircasewall,throughwhichtheskywasneverseennoranythingelse.

'Cavalletto,' saidMonsieurRigaud, suddenlywithdrawinghisgaze from thisfunnel towhich theyhadboth involuntarily turned theireyes, 'youknowmeforagentleman?'

'Surely,surely!'

'Howlonghavewebeenhere?''I,elevenweeks,tomorrownightatmidnight.You,nineweeksandthreedays,atfivethisafternoon.'

'HaveIeverdoneanythinghere?Evertouchedthebroom,orspreadthemats,orrolledthemup,orfoundthedraughts,orcollectedthedominoes,orputmyhandtoanykindofwork?'

'Never!'

'Haveyoueverthoughtoflookingtometodoanykindofwork?'

John Baptist answered with that peculiar backhanded shake of the rightforefingerwhichisthemostexpressivenegativeintheItalianlanguage.

'No!You knew from the firstmomentwhen you sawme here, that Iwas agentleman?'

'ALTRO!'returnedJohnBaptist,closinghiseyesandgivinghisheadamostvehement toss. The word being, according to its Genoese emphasis, aconfirmation,acontradiction,anassertion,adenial,ataunt,acompliment,ajoke,andfiftyotherthings,becameinthepresentinstance,withasignificancebeyondallpowerofwrittenexpression,ourfamiliarEnglish'Ibelieveyou!'

'Haha! You are right! A gentleman I am! And a gentleman I'll live, and agentlemanI'lldie!It'smyintenttobeagentleman.It'smygame.Deathofmysoul,IplayitoutwhereverIgo!'

Hechangedhisposturetoasittingone,cryingwithatriumphantair:

'Here I am!Seeme!Shakenout ofdestiny's dicebox into the companyof ameresmuggler;shutupwithapoorlittlecontrabandtrader,whosepapersarewrong, andwhom the police lay hold of besides, for placing his boat (as ameansofgettingbeyond thefrontier)at thedispositionofother littlepeoplewhosepapersarewrong;andheinstinctivelyrecognisesmyposition,evenbythis light and in this place. It's well done! ByHeaven! I win, however thegamegoes.'

Againhismoustachewentup,andhisnosecamedown.

'What's the hour now?' he asked, with a dry hot pallor upon him, ratherdifficultofassociationwithmerriment.

'Alittlehalfhouraftermidday.'

'Good!ThePresidentwillhaveagentlemanbeforehimsoon.Come!

Shall I tellyouonwhataccusation?Itmustbenow,ornever, forIshallnotreturnhere.EitherIshallgofree,orIshallgotobemadereadyforshaving.Youknowwheretheykeeptherazor.'

SignorCavallettotookhiscigarettefrombetweenhispartedlips,andshowedmoremomentarydiscomfiturethanmighthavebeenexpected.

'Iama'MonsieurRigaudstooduptosayit'Iamacosmopolitangentleman.Iownnoparticularcountry.MyfatherwasSwissCantondeVaud.MymotherwasFrenchbyblood,Englishbybirth.ImyselfwasborninBelgium.Iamacitizenoftheworld.'

Histheatricalair,ashestoodwithonearmonhishipwithinthefoldsofhiscloak,togetherwithhismannerofdisregardinghiscompanionandaddressingthe oppositewall instead, seemed to intimate that hewas rehearsing for thePresident,whoseexaminationhewasshortlytoundergo,ratherthantroublinghimselfmerelytoenlightensosmallapersonasJohnBaptistCavalletto.

'Callmefiveandthirtyyearsofage.Ihaveseentheworld.Ihavelivedhere,and lived there, and lived like a gentleman everywhere. I have been treatedandrespectedasagentlemanuniversally.IfyoutrytoprejudicemebymakingoutthatIhavelivedbymywitshowdoyourlawyersliveyourpoliticiansyourintriguersyourmenoftheExchange?'

Hekepthissmallsmoothhandinconstantrequisition,asifitwereawitnesstohisgentilitythathadoftendonehimgoodservicebefore.

'TwoyearsagoIcame toMarseilles. Iadmit that Iwaspoor; Ihadbeen ill.When your lawyers, your politicians, your intriguers, your men of theExchangefall ill,andhavenotscrapedmoneytogether, theybecomepoor. IputupattheCrossofGold,keptthenbyMonsieurHenriBarronneausixtyfiveat least, and in a failing state of health. I had lived in the house some fourmonths whenMonsieur Henri Barronneau had the misfortune to die;at anyrate, not a raremisfortune, that. It happenswithout any aid ofmine, prettyoften.'

JohnBaptisthavingsmokedhiscigarettedowntohisfingers'ends,MonsieurRigaudhad themagnanimity to throwhimanother.He lighted thesecondatthe ashes of the first, and smoked on, looking sideways at his companion,who,preoccupiedwithhisowncase,hardlylookedathim.

'MonsieurBarronneauleftawidow.Shewastwoandtwenty.Shehadgainedareputation for beauty, and (which is often another thing) was beautiful. IcontinuedtoliveattheCrossofGold.ImarriedMadameBarronneau.Itisnotforme tosaywhether therewasanygreatdisparity insuchamatch.Here Istand,withthecontaminationofajailuponme;butitispossiblethatyoumaythinkmebettersuitedtoherthanherformerhusbandwas.'

Hehadacertainairofbeingahandsomemanwhichhewasnot;andacertainair of being a wellbred manwhich he was not. It was mere swagger andchallenge;but in thisparticular, as inmanyothers,blusteringassertiongoesforproof,halfovertheworld.

'Beitasitmay,MadameBarronneauapprovedofme.Thatisnottoprejudiceme,Ihope?'

HiseyehappeningtolightuponJohnBaptistwiththisinquiry,thatlittleman

brisklyshookhisheadinthenegative,andrepeatedinanargumentativetoneunderhisbreath,altro,altro,altro,altroaninfinitenumberoftimes.

'Now came the difficulties of our position. I am proud. I say nothing indefence of pride, but I am proud. It is alsomy character to govern. I can'tsubmit; I must govern. Unfortunately, the property ofMadame Rigaudwassettled upon herself. Such was the insane act of her late husband. Moreunfortunatelystill,shehadrelations.Whenawife'srelationsinterposeagainsta husband who is a gentleman, who is proud, and who must govern, theconsequences are inimical to peace. There was yet another source ofdifference between us. Madame Rigaud was unfortunately a little vulgar. Isought to improve her manners and ameliorate her general tone; she(supportedinthislikewisebyherrelations)resentedmyendeavours.Quarrelsbegantoarisebetweenus;and,propagatedandexaggeratedbytheslandersoftherelationsofMadameRigaud,tobecomenotorioustotheneighbours.IthasbeensaidthatItreatedMadameRigaudwithcruelty.Imayhavebeenseentoslap her facenothing more. I have a light hand; and if I have been seenapparently to correctMadameRigaud in thatmanner, I have done it almostplayfully.'

IftheplayfulnessofMonsieurRigaudwereatallexpressedbyhissmileatthispoint,therelationsofMadameRigaudmighthavesaidthattheywouldhavemuchpreferredhiscorrectingthatunfortunatewomanseriously.

'I am sensitive andbrave. I donot advance it as amerit tobe sensitive andbrave,butitismycharacter.IfthemalerelationsofMadameRigaudhadputthemselvesforwardopenly,Ishouldhaveknownhowtodealwiththem.Theyknew that, and their machinations were conducted in secret; consequently,MadameRigaud and Iwerebrought into frequent andunfortunate collision.Even when I wanted any little sum of money for my personal expenses, IcouldnotobtainitwithoutcollisionandI,too,amanwhosecharacteritistogovern!Onenight,MadameRigaudandmyselfwerewalkingamicablyImaysay like loverson a height overhanging the sea. An evil star occasionedMadameRigaudtoadverttoherrelations;Ireasonedwithheronthatsubject,andremonstratedonthewantofdutyanddevotionmanifestedinherallowingherself to be influenced by their jealous animosity towards her husband.Madame Rigaud retorted; I retorted; Madame Rigaud grew warm; I grewwarm, andprovokedher. I admit it. Frankness is a part ofmy character.Atlength,MadameRigaud, inanaccessoffurythatImusteverdeplore, threwherselfuponmewithscreamsofpassion(nodoubtthosethatwereoverheardatsomedistance),toremyclothes,toremyhair,laceratedmyhands,trampledand trod thedust, and finally leapedover,dashingherself todeathupon therocksbelow.Suchisthetrainofincidentswhichmalicehaspervertedintomy

endeavouring to force fromMadameRigaud a relinquishment of her rights;and, on her persistence in a refusal to make the concession I required,strugglingwithherassassinatingher!'

He stepped aside to the ledge where the vine leaves yet lay strewn about,collectedtwoorthree,andstoodwipinghishandsuponthem,withhisbacktothelight.

'Well,'hedemandedafterasilence,'haveyounothingtosaytoallthat?'

'It'sugly,'returnedthelittleman,whohadrisen,andwasbrighteninghisknifeuponhisshoe,asheleanedanarmagainstthewall.

'Whatdoyoumean?'JohnBaptistpolishedhisknifeinsilence.

'DoyoumeanthatIhavenotrepresentedthecasecorrectly?'

'Altro!' returned JohnBaptist.Thewordwas an apologynow, and stood for'Oh,bynomeans!'

'Whatthen?'

'Presidentsandtribunalsaresoprejudiced.'

'Well,'criedtheother,uneasilyflingingtheendofhiscloakoverhisshoulderwithanoath,'letthemdotheirworst!'

'TrulyIthinktheywill,'murmuredJohnBaptisttohimself,ashebenthisheadtoputhisknifeinhissash.

Nothingmorewassaidoneitherside,thoughtheybothbeganwalkingtoandfro, and necessarily crossed at every turn. Monsieur Rigaud sometimesstopped,asifheweregoingtoputhiscaseinanewlight,ormakesomeirateremonstrance; but SignorCavalletto continuing to go slowly to and fro at agrotesquekindofjogtrotpacewithhiseyesturneddownward,nothingcameoftheseinclinings.

Byandby the noise of the key in the lock arrested them both. The sound ofvoicessucceeded,andthetreadoffeet.Thedoorclashed,thevoicesandthefeetcameon,andtheprisonkeeperslowlyascendedthestairs,followedbyaguardofsoldiers.

'Now,MonsieurRigaud,'saidhe,pausingforamomentatthegrate,withhiskeysinhishands,'havethegoodnesstocomeout.'

'Iamtodepartinstate,Isee?' 'Why,unlessyoudid,'returnedthejailer, 'youmightdepart insomanypieces that itwouldbedifficult togetyou together

again.There'sacrowd,MonsieurRigaud,anditdoesn'tloveyou.'

Hepassedonoutofsight,andunlockedandunbarredalowdoorinthecornerof the chamber. 'Now,' said he, as he opened it and appearedwithin, 'comeout.'

There is no sort of whiteness in all the hues under the sun at all like thewhiteness of Monsieur Rigaud's face as it was then. Neither is there anyexpressionofthehumancountenanceatalllikethatexpressionineverylittleline of which the frightened heart is seen to beat. Both are conventionallycomparedwithdeath; but thedifference is thewholedeepgulf between thestruggledone,andthefightatitsmostdesperateextremity.

He lighted another of his paper cigars at his companion's; put it tightlybetweenhisteeth;coveredhisheadwithasoftslouchedhat;threwtheendofhis cloak over his shoulder again; and walked out into the side gallery onwhichthedooropened,withouttakinganyfurthernoticeofSignorCavalletto.As to that little man himself, his whole attention had become absorbed ingettingnearthedoorandlookingoutatit.Preciselyasabeastmightapproachtheopenedgateofhisdenandeyethefreedombeyond,hepassedthosefewmomentsinwatchingandpeering,untilthedoorwascloseduponhim.

There was an officer in command of the soldiers; a stout, serviceable,profoundlycalmman,withhisdrawnswordinhishand,smokingacigar.HeverybrieflydirectedtheplacingofMonsieurRigaudinthemidstoftheparty,put himself with consummate indifference at their head, gave the word'march!'andsotheyallwentjinglingdownthestaircase.Thedoorclashedthekey turnedanda rayofunusual light,andabreathofunusualair, seemed tohave passed through the jail, vanishing in a tinywreath of smoke from thecigar.

Still, in his captivity, like a lower animallike some impatient ape, or rousedbearofthesmallerspeciestheprisoner,nowleftsolitary,hadjumpedupontheledge,tolosenoglimpseofthisdeparture.Asheyetstoodclaspingthegratewith both hands, an uproar broke upon his hearing; yells, shrieks, oaths,threats,execrations,allcomprehendedinit,though(asinastorm)nothingbutaragingswellofsounddistinctlyheard.

Excitedintoastillgreaterresemblancetoacagedwildanimalbyhisanxietyto know more, the prisoner leaped nimbly down, ran round the chamber,leapednimblyupagain,clasped thegrateand tried toshake it, leapeddownand ran, leaped up and listened, and never rested until the noise, becomingmoreandmoredistant,haddiedaway.Howmanybetterprisonershaveworntheirnobleheartsoutso;nomanthinkingofit;noteventhebelovedoftheir

souls realising it; great kings and governors, who had made them captive,careering in the sunlight jauntily, andmen cheering themon.Even the saidgreat personages dying in bed, making exemplary ends and soundingspeeches; andpolite history,more servile than their instruments, embalmingthem!

Atlast,JohnBaptist,nowabletochoosehisownspotwithinthecompassofthosewallsfortheexerciseofhisfacultyofgoingtosleepwhenhewould,laydown upon the bench, with his face turned over on his crossed arms, andslumbered. In his submission, in his lightness, in his good humour, in hisshortlivedpassion,inhiseasycontentmentwithhardbreadandhardstones,inhisreadysleep,inhisfitsandstarts,altogetheratruesonofthelandthatgavehimbirth.

Thewide stare stared itself out for onewhile; theSunwent down in a red,green, golden glory; the stars came out in the heavens, and the firefliesmimickedtheminthelowerair,asmenmayfeeblyimitatethegoodnessofabetterorderofbeings;thelongdustyroadsandtheinterminableplainswereinreposeandsodeepahushwasonthesea,thatitscarcelywhisperedofthetimewhenitshallgiveupitsdead.

CHAPTER2

FellowTravellers

'Nomoreofyesterday'showlingoveryondertoday,Sir;isthere?'

'Ihaveheardnone.'

'Thenyoumaybesurethereisnone.Whenthesepeoplehowl,theyhowltobeheard.'

'Mostpeopledo,Isuppose.'

'Ah!butthesepeoplearealwayshowling.Neverhappyotherwise.'

'DoyoumeantheMarseillespeople?'

'Imean the French people.They're always at it.As toMarseilles,we knowwhatMarseillesis.Itsentthemostinsurrectionarytuneintotheworldthatwasever composed. It couldn't exist without allonging and marshonging tosomethingorothervictoryordeath,orblazes,orsomething.'

The speaker,with awhimsical good humour upon him all the time, lookedovertheparapetwallwiththegreatestdisparagementofMarseilles;andtakingupadeterminedpositionbyputtinghishands inhispocketsandrattlinghismoneyatit,apostrophiseditwithashortlaugh.

'Allongandmarshong,indeed.Itwouldbemorecreditabletoyou,Ithink,toletotherpeople allongandmarshongabout their lawfulbusiness, insteadofshutting'emupinquarantine!'

'Tiresomeenough,'saidtheother.'Butweshallbeouttoday.'

'Outtoday!'repeatedthefirst.'It'salmostanaggravationoftheenormity,thatweshallbeouttoday.Out!Whathaveweeverbeeninfor?'

'Fornoverystrongreason,Imustsay.ButaswecomefromtheEast,andastheEastisthecountryoftheplague'

'Theplague!' repeated theother. 'That'smygrievance. Ihavehad theplaguecontinually, ever since I have been here. I am like a saneman shut up in amadhouse;Ican'tstandthesuspicionofthething.IcamehereaswellaseverIwasinmylife;buttosuspectmeoftheplagueistogivemetheplague.AndIhavehaditandIhavegotit.'

'Youbearitverywell,MrMeagles,'saidthesecondspeaker,smiling.

'No. If you knew the real state of the case, that's the last observation youwouldthinkofmaking.Ihavebeenwakingupnightafternight,andsaying,NOWIhavegotit,NOWithasdevelopeditself,NOWIaminforit,NOWthesefellowsaremakingouttheircasefortheirprecautions.Why,I'dassoonhaveaspitputthroughme,andbestuckuponacardinacollectionofbeetles,asleadthelifeIhavebeenleadinghere.'

'Well, Mr Meagles, say no more about it now it's over,' urged a cheerfulfemininevoice.

'Over!'repeatedMrMeagles,whoappeared(thoughwithoutanyillnature)tobe in that peculiar state ofmind inwhich the lastword spokenby anybodyelseisanewinjury.'Over!andwhyshouldIsaynomoreaboutitbecauseit'sover?'

ItwasMrsMeagleswhohadspokentoMrMeagles;andMrsMeagleswas,likeMrMeagles,comelyandhealthy,withapleasantEnglishfacewhichhadbeenlookingathomelythingsforfiveandfiftyyearsormore,andshonewithabrightreflectionofthem.

'There! Never mind, Father, never mind!' saidMrsMeagles. 'For goodness

sakecontentyourselfwithPet.'

'WithPet?'repeatedMrMeaglesinhisinjuredvein.Pet,however,beingclosebehind him, touched him on the shoulder, and Mr Meagles immediatelyforgaveMarseillesfromthebottomofhisheart.

Petwasabouttwenty.Afairgirlwithrichbrownhairhangingfreeinnaturalringlets.Alovelygirl,withafrankface,andwonderfuleyes;solarge,sosoft,so bright, set to such perfection in her kind good head. Shewas round andfresh and dimpled and spoilt, and there was in Pet an air of timidity anddependencewhichwasthebestweaknessintheworld,andgavehertheonlycrowningcharmagirlsoprettyandpleasantcouldhavebeenwithout.

'Now,Iaskyou,' saidMrMeagles in theblandestconfidence, fallingbackastephimself,andhandinghisdaughterastepforwardtoillustratehisquestion:'Iaskyousimply,asbetweenmanandman,youknow,DIDyoueverhearofsuchdamnednonsenseasputtingPetinquarantine?'

'It hashad the resultofmakingevenquarantineenjoyable.' 'Come!' saidMrMeagles, 'that's something to be sure. I am obliged to you for that remark.Now,Pet,mydarling,youhadbettergoalongwithMotherandgetreadyfortheboat.Theofficerofhealth,andavarietyofhumbugsincockedhats,arecoming off to let us out of this at last: and allwe jailbirds are to breakfasttogether insomethingapproaching toaChristianstyleagain,beforewe takewingforourdifferentdestinations.Tattycoram,stickyouclosetoyouryoungmistress.'

Hespoketoahandsomegirlwithlustrousdarkhairandeyes,andveryneatlydressed,whorepliedwithahalfcurtseyasshepassedoffinthetrainofMrsMeaglesandPet.Theycrossedthebarescorchedterraceallthreetogether,anddisappeared through a staring white archway. Mr Meagles's companion, agrave darkman of forty, still stood looking towards this archway after theyweregone;untilMrMeaglestappedhimonthearm.

'Ibegyourpardon,'saidhe,starting.

'Notatall,'saidMrMeagles.

They took one silent turn backward and forward in the shade of the wall,getting,at theheightonwhichthequarantinebarracksareplaced,whatcoolrefreshment of sea breeze therewas at seven in themorning.MrMeagles'scompanionresumedtheconversation.

'MayIaskyou,'hesaid,'whatisthenameof'

'Tattycoram?'MrMeaglesstruckin.'Ihavenottheleastidea.'

'Ithought,'saidtheother,'that'

'Tattycoram?'suggestedMrMeaglesagain.

'ThankyouthatTattycoramwasaname;andIhaveseveraltimeswonderedattheoddityofit.'

'Why, the fact is,' saidMrMeagles, 'MrsMeagles andmyself are, you see,practicalpeople.'

'That you have frequently mentioned in the course of the agreeable andinterestingconversationswehavehadtogether,walkingupanddownonthesestones,' said the other,with a half smile breaking through the gravity of hisdarkface.

'Practicalpeople.Sooneday,fiveorsixyearsagonow,whenwetookPettochurchattheFoundlingyouhaveheardoftheFoundlingHospitalinLondon?SimilartotheInstitutionfortheFoundChildreninParis?'

'Ihaveseenit.'

'Well!OnedaywhenwetookPettochurchtheretohearthemusicbecause,aspracticalpeople,itisthebusinessofourlivestoshowhereverythingthatwethinkcanpleaseherMother(myusualnameforMrsMeagles)begantocryso,thatitwasnecessarytotakeherout."What'sthematter,Mother?"saidI,whenwehadbroughtheralittleround:"youarefrighteningPet,mydear.""Yes,Iknow that, Father," saysMother, "but I think it's throughmy loving her somuch,thatitevercameintomyhead.""Thateverwhatcameintoyourhead,Mother?" "Odear, dear!" criedMother, breakingout again, "when I sawallthose children ranged tier above tier, and appealing from the father none ofthem has ever known on earth, to the great Father of us all in Heaven, Ithought, does any wretchedmother ever come here, and look among thoseyoungfaces,wonderingwhichis thepoorchildshebrought intothisforlornworld,neverthroughallitslifetoknowherlove,herkiss,herface,hervoice,evenhername!"Nowthatwaspractical inMother,andI toldherso. Isaid,"Mother,that'swhatIcallpracticalinyou,mydear."'

Theother,notunmoved,assented.

'So I said next day:Now,Mother, I have a proposition tomake that I thinkyou'll approveof.Let us takeoneof those same little children tobe a littlemaidtoPet.Wearepracticalpeople.Soifweshouldfindhertemperalittledefective, or any of herways a littlewide of ours,we shall knowwhatwehavetotakeintoaccount.Weshallknowwhatanimmensedeductionmustbemadefromall theinfluencesandexperiencesthathaveformedusnoparents,

nochildbrotherorsister,noindividualityofhome,noGlassSlipper,orFairyGodmother.Andthat'sthewaywecamebyTattycoram.'

'Andthenameitself'

'ByGeorge!'saidMrMeagles,'Iwasforgettingthenameitself.Why,shewascalled in the Institution, Harriet Beadlean arbitrary name, of course. Now,Harriet we changed into Hattey, and then into Tatty, because, as practicalpeople, we thought even a playful name might be a new thing to her, andmight have a softening and affectionatekindof effect, don't you see?As toBeadle,thatIneedn'tsaywaswhollyoutofthequestion.Ifthereisanythingthatisnottobetoleratedonanyterms,anythingthatisatypeofJackinofficeinsolenceandabsurdity,anythingthatrepresentsincoats,waistcoats,andbigsticksourEnglishholdingonbynonsenseaftereveryonehasfounditout,itisabeadle.Youhaven'tseenabeadlelately?'

'AsanEnglishmanwhohasbeenmorethantwentyyearsinChina,no.'

'Then,'saidMrMeagles,layinghisforefingeronhiscompanion'sbreastwithgreatanimation, 'don'tyouseeabeadle,now,ifyoucanhelpit.WheneverIsee a beadle in full fig, comingdowna street on aSunday at theheadof acharity school, I amobliged to turn and run away, or I should hit him.ThenameofBeadlebeingoutofthequestion,andtheoriginatoroftheInstitutionfor these poor foundlings having been a blessed creature of the name ofCoram,wegavethatnametoPet'slittlemaid.AtonetimeshewasTatty,andatonetimeshewasCoram,untilwegotintoawayofmixingthetwonamestogether,andnowsheisalwaysTattycoram.'

'Yourdaughter,'saidtheother,whentheyhadtakenanothersilentturntoandfro,and,afterstandingforamomentatthewallglancingdownatthesea,hadresumedtheirwalk,'isyouronlychild,Iknow,MrMeagles.MayIaskyouinno impertinent curiosity, but because I have had so much pleasure in yoursociety,mayneverinthislabyrinthofaworldexchangeaquietwordwithyouagain,andwishtopreserveanaccurateremembranceofyouandyoursmayIaskyou,ifIhavenotgatheredfromyourgoodwifethatyouhavehadotherchildren?'

'No.No,'saidMrMeagles.'Notexactlyotherchildren.Oneotherchild.'

'IamafraidIhaveinadvertentlytoucheduponatendertheme.'

'Never mind,' said Mr Meagles. 'If I am grave about it, I am not at allsorrowful.Itquietsmeforamoment,butdoesnotmakemeunhappy.PethadatwinsisterwhodiedwhenwecouldjustseehereyesexactlylikePet'sabovethetable,asshestoodontiptoeholdingbyit.'

'Ah!indeed,indeed!'

'Yes,andbeingpracticalpeople,aresulthasgraduallysprungupinthemindsof Mrs Meagles and myself which perhaps you mayor perhaps you maynotunderstand. Pet and her baby sister were so exactly alike, and socompletelyone,thatinourthoughtswehaveneverbeenabletoseparatethemsince.Itwouldbeofnousetotellusthatourdeadchildwasamereinfant.Wehavechangedthatchildaccordingtothechangesinthechildsparedtousandalwayswithus.AsPethasgrown, that childhasgrown; asPethasbecomemore sensible and womanly, her sister has become more sensible andwomanlybyjustthesamedegrees.ItwouldbeashardtoconvincemethatifIwastopassintotheotherworldtomorrow,Ishouldnot,throughthemercyofGod,bereceivedtherebyadaughter,justlikePet,astopersuademethatPetherselfisnotarealityatmyside.''Iunderstandyou,'saidtheother,gently.

'As to her,' pursued her father, 'the sudden loss of her little picture andplayfellow,andherearlyassociationwith thatmystery inwhichweallhaveour equal share, butwhich is not often so forcibly presented to a child, hasnecessarilyhadsomeinfluenceonhercharacter.Then,hermotherandIwerenotyoungwhenwemarried, andPethas alwayshada sortofgrownup lifewithus,thoughwehavetriedtoadaptourselvestoher.Wehavebeenadvisedmorethanoncewhenshehasbeenalittleailing,tochangeclimateandairforherasoftenaswecouldespeciallyataboutthistimeofherlifeandtokeepheramused.So,asIhavenoneedtostickatabankdesknow(thoughIhavebeenpoorenoughinmytimeIassureyou,orIshouldhavemarriedMrsMeagleslongbefore),wegotrottingabouttheworld.ThisishowyoufoundusstaringattheNile,andthePyramids,andtheSphinxes,andtheDesert,andalltherestofit;andthisishowTattycoramwillbeagreatertravellerincourseoftimethanCaptainCook.'

'Ithankyou,'saidtheother,'veryheartilyforyourconfidence.'

'Don'tmention it,' returnedMrMeagles, 'I am sure you are quitewelcome.Andnow,MrClennam,perhapsImayaskyouwhetheryouhaveyetcometoadecisionwheretogonext?'

'Indeed, no. I am such a waif and stray everywhere, that I am liable to bedriftedwhereanycurrentmayset.'

'It'sextraordinarytomeifyou'llexcusemyfreedominsayingsothatyoudon'tgostraighttoLondon,'saidMrMeagles,inthetoneofaconfidentialadviser.

'PerhapsIshall.'

'Ay!ButImeanwithawill.'

'Ihavenowill.Thatistosay,'hecolouredalittle,'nexttononethatIcanputinactionnow.Trainedbymain force;broken,notbent;heavily ironedwithanobject onwhich Iwas never consulted andwhichwas nevermine; shippedawaytotheotherendoftheworldbeforeIwasofage,andexiledthereuntilmyfather'sdeaththere,ayearago;alwaysgrindinginamillIalwayshated;whatistobeexpectedfrommeinmiddlelife?Will,purpose,hope?AllthoselightswereextinguishedbeforeIcouldsoundthewords.'

'Light'emupagain!'saidMrMeagles.

'Ah!Easilysaid.Iamtheson,MrMeagles,ofahardfatherandmother.Iamtheonlychildofparentswhoweighed,measured,andpricedeverything;forwhomwhat could not beweighed,measured, and priced, had no existence.Strictpeopleasthephraseis,professorsofasternreligion,theirveryreligionwas a gloomy sacrifice of tastes and sympathies thatwere never their own,offeredupasapartofabargainforthesecurityoftheirpossessions.Austerefaces, inexorable discipline, penance in this world and terror in thenextnothing graceful or gentle anywhere, and the void in my cowed hearteverywherethiswasmychildhood,ifImaysomisusethewordastoapplyittosuchabeginningoflife.'

'Really though?' saidMrMeagles, made very uncomfortable by the pictureofferedtohisimagination.'Thatwasatoughcommencement.Butcome!Youmustnowstudy,andprofitby,allthatliesbeyondit,likeapracticalman.'

'Ifthepeoplewhoareusuallycalledpractical,werepracticalinyourdirection'

'Why,sotheyare!'saidMrMeagles.

'Aretheyindeed?'

'Well,Isupposeso,'returnedMrMeagles,thinkingaboutit.'Eh?

Onecanbutbepractical,andMrsMeaglesandmyselfarenothingelse.'

'MyunknowncourseiseasierandmorehelpfulthanIhadexpectedtofindit,then,' saidClennam, shaking his headwith his grave smile. 'Enough ofme.Hereistheboat.'

Theboatwasfilledwith thecockedhats towhichMrMeaglesentertainedanationalobjection;andthewearersofthosecockedhatslandedandcameupthe steps, and all the impounded travellers congregated together. Therewasthen a mighty production of papers on the part of the cocked hats, and acallingoverof names, andgreatworkof signing, sealing, stamping, inking,and sanding, with exceedingly blurred, gritty, and undecipherable results.Finally, everything was done according to rule, and the travellers were at

libertytodepartwhithersoevertheywould.

Theymadelittleaccountofstareandglare,inthenewpleasureofrecoveringtheirfreedom,butflittedacrosstheharbouringayboats,andreassembledatagreathotel,whence thesunwasexcludedbyclosed lattices,andwherebarepaved floors, lofty ceilings, and resounding corridors tempered the intenseheat.There,agreat tableinagreatroomwassoonprofuselycoveredwithasuperb repast; and the quarantine quarters becamebare indeed, rememberedamongdaintydishes,southernfruits,cooledwines,flowersfromGenoa,snowfrom the mountain tops, and all the colours of the rainbow flashing in themirrors.

'But I bear thosemonotonous walls no illwill now,' saidMrMeagles. 'Onealways begins to forgive a place as soon as it's left behind; I dare say aprisonerbeginstorelenttowardshisprison,afterheisletout.'

Theywereaboutthirtyincompany,andalltalking;butnecessarilyingroups.Father and Mother Meagles sat with their daughter between them, the lastthree on one side of the table: on the opposite side satMr Clennam; a tallFrenchgentlemanwithravenhairandbeard,ofaswartandterrible,nottosaygenteelly diabolical aspect, butwho had shownhimself themildest ofmen;and a handsome young Englishwoman, travelling quite alone, who had aproudobservantface,andhadeitherwithdrawnherselffromtherestorbeenavoidedbytherestnobody,herselfexceptedperhaps,couldhavequitedecidedwhich.Therestofthepartywereoftheusualmaterials:travellersonbusiness,and travellers for pleasure; officers from India on leave; merchants in theGreekandTurkeytrades;aclericalEnglishhusbandinameekstraitwaistcoat,onaweddingtripwithhisyoungwife;amajesticEnglishmamaandpapa,ofthe patrician order, with a family of three growingup daughters, who werekeeping a journal for the confusion of their fellowcreatures; and a deaf oldEnglish mother, tough in travel, with a very decidedly grownup daughterindeed,whichdaughterwentsketchingabout theuniverse in theexpectationofultimatelytoningherselfoffintothemarriedstate.

ThereservedEnglishwomantookupMrMeaglesinhislastremark. 'Doyoumeanthataprisonerforgiveshisprison?'saidshe,slowlyandwithemphasis.

'Thatwasmyspeculation,MissWade.Idon'tpretendtoknowpositivelyhowaprisonermightfeel.Ineverwasonebefore.'

'Mademoiselle doubts,' said the French gentleman in his own language, 'it'sbeingsoeasytoforgive?'

'Ido.'

Pethad to translate thispassage toMrMeagles,whoneverby anyaccidentacquiredanyknowledgewhateverofthelanguageofanycountryintowhichhetravelled.'Oh!'saidhe.'Dearme!Butthat'sapity,isn'tit?'

'ThatIamnotcredulous?'saidMissWade.

'Notexactlythat.Putitanotherway.Thatyoucan'tbelieveiteasytoforgive.'

'Myexperience,'shequietlyreturned,'hasbeencorrectingmybeliefinmanyrespects,forsomeyears.Itisournaturalprogress,Ihaveheard.'

'Well, well! But it's not natural to bear malice, I hope?' said Mr Meagles,cheerily.

'IfIhadbeenshutupinanyplacetopineandsuffer,Ishouldalwayshatethatplace andwish to burn it down, or raze it to the ground. I know nomore.''Strong,sir?'saidMrMeaglestotheFrenchman;itbeinganotherofhishabitsto address individuals of all nations in idiomatic English, with a perfectconvictionthattheywereboundtounderstanditsomehow.'Ratherforcibleinourfairfriend,you'llagreewithme,Ithink?'

The French gentleman courteously replied, 'Plaitil?' To which Mr Meaglesreturnedwithmuchsatisfaction,'Youareright.Myopinion.'

Thebreakfastbeginningbyandbytolanguish,MrMeaglesmadethecompanyaspeech. Itwasshortenoughandsensibleenough,considering that itwasaspeechatall,andhearty.Itmerelywenttotheeffectthatastheyhadallbeenthrown together by chance, and had all preserved a good understandingtogether, and were now about to disperse, and were not likely ever to findthemselvesall togetheragain,whatcould theydobetter thanbid farewell tooneanother,andgiveoneanothergoodspeedinasimultaneousglassofcoolchampagne all round the table? Itwas done, andwith a general shaking ofhandstheassemblybrokeupforever.

Thesolitaryyoungladyallthistimehadsaidnomore.Sherosewiththerest,and silently withdrew to a remote corner of the great room, where she satherselfonacouchinawindow,seemingtowatchthereflectionofthewaterasitmadeasilverquiveringonthebarsofthelattice.Shesat,turnedawayfromthewhole lengthof theapartment,as ifshewere lonelyofherownhaughtychoice. And yet it would have been as difficult as ever to say, positively,whethersheavoidedtherest,orwasavoided.

Theshadowinwhichshesat, fallinglikeagloomyveilacrossherforehead,accordedverywellwiththecharacterofherbeauty.Onecouldhardlyseetheface,sostillandscornful,setoffbythearcheddarkeyebrows,andthefoldsof

darkhair,withoutwonderingwhat itsexpressionwouldbeifachangecameover it. That it could soften or relent, appeared next to impossible. That itcoulddeepenintoangeroranyextremeofdefiance,andthatitmustchangeinthatdirectionwhenitchangedatall,wouldhavebeenitspeculiarimpressionupon most observers. It was dressed and trimmed into no ceremony ofexpression. Although not an open face, there was no pretence in it. 'I amselfcontainedandselfreliant;youropinionisnothingtome;Ihavenointerestinyou,carenothingforyou,andseeandhearyouwithindifference'thisitsaidplainly.Itsaidsointheproudeyes,intheliftednostril,inthehandsomebutcompressed and even cruel mouth. Cover either two of those channels ofexpression,andthethirdwouldhavesaidsostill.Maskthemall,andthemereturnoftheheadwouldhaveshownanunsubduablenature.

Pethadmoveduptoher(shehadbeenthesubjectofremarkamongherfamilyandMrClennam,whowerenowtheonlyotheroccupantsof theroom),andwasstandingatherside.

'Areyou'sheturnedhereyes,andPetfaltered'expectinganyonetomeetyouhere,MissWade?'

'I?No.'

'FatherissendingtothePosteRestante.Shallhehavethepleasureofdirectingthemessengertoaskifthereareanylettersforyou?'

'Ithankhim,butIknowtherecanbenone.'

'Weareafraid,'saidPet,sittingdownbesideher,shylyandhalftenderly,'thatyouwillfeelquitedesertedwhenweareallgone.'

'Indeed!'

'Not,'saidPet,apologeticallyandembarrassedbyhereyes,'not,ofcourse,thatweare anycompany toyou,or thatwehavebeenable tobe so,or thatwethoughtyouwishedit.'

'IhavenotintendedtomakeitunderstoodthatIdidwishit.'

'No. Of course. Butin short,' said Pet, timidly touching her hand as it layimpassiveonthesofabetweenthem,'willyounotallowFathertotenderyouanyslightassistanceorservice?Hewillbeveryglad.'

'Very glad,' saidMrMeagles, coming forward with his wife and Clennam.'Anythingshortofspeakingthelanguage,Ishallbedelightedtoundertake,Iamsure.'

'I am obliged to you,' she returned, 'but my arrangements are made, and Iprefertogomyownwayinmyownmanner.'

'Doyou?'saidMrMeaglestohimself,ashesurveyedherwithapuzzledlook.'Well!There'scharacterinthat,too.'

'Iamnotmuchusedtothesocietyofyoungladies,andIamafraidImaynotshow my appreciation of it as others might. A pleasant journey to you.Goodbye!'

Shewouldnothaveputoutherhand,itseemed,butthatMrMeaglesputouthissostraightbeforeherthatshecouldnotpassit.Sheputhersinit,anditlaytherejustasithadlainuponthecouch.

'Goodbye!'saidMrMeagles.'Thisisthelastgoodbyeuponthelist,forMotherandIhavejustsaidittoMrClennamhere,andheonlywaitstosayittoPet.Goodbye!Wemaynevermeetagain.'

'Inourcoursethroughlifeweshallmeetthepeoplewhoarecomingtomeetus,frommanystrangeplacesandbymanystrangeroads,'wasthecomposedreply;'andwhatitissettoustodotothem,andwhatitissettothemtodotous,willallbedone.'TherewassomethinginthemannerofthesewordsthatjarreduponPet'sear.Itimpliedthatwhatwastobedonewasnecessarilyevil,anditcausedhertosayinawhisper,'OFather!'andtoshrinkchildishly,inherspoiltway,alittleclosertohim.Thiswasnotlostonthespeaker.

'Yourprettydaughter,'shesaid,'startstothinkofsuchthings.Yet,'lookingfullupon her, 'youmay be sure that there aremen andwomen already on theirroad, who have their business to do with YOU, and who will do it. Of acertaintytheywilldoit.Theymaybecominghundreds, thousands,ofmilesovertheseathere; theymaybecloseathandnow;theymaybecoming,foranything you know or anything you can do to prevent it, from the vilestsweepingsofthisverytown.'

With the coldest of farewells, and with a certain worn expression on herbeautythatgaveit,thoughscarcelyyetinitsprime,awastedlook,shelefttheroom.

Now,thereweremanystairsandpassagesthatshehadtotraverseinpassingfrom thatpartof the spacioushouse to thechamber shehadsecured forherownoccupation.Whenshehadalmostcompletedthejourney,andwaspassingalong the gallery in which her room was, she heard an angry sound ofmutteringandsobbing.Adoorstoodopen,andwithinshesawtheattendantuponthegirlshehadjustleft;themaidwiththecuriousname.

Shestoodstill, to lookat thismaid.Asullen,passionategirl!Herrichblackhairwasallaboutherface,herfacewasflushedandhot,andasshesobbedandraged,shepluckedatherlipswithanunsparinghand.

'Selfishbrutes!'saidthegirl,sobbingandheavingbetweenwhiles.'Notcaringwhatbecomesofme!Leavingmeherehungryandthirstyandtired,tostarve,foranythingtheycare!Beasts!Devils!Wretches!'

'Mypoorgirl,whatisthematter?'

Shelookedupsuddenly,withreddenedeyes,andwithherhandssuspended,inthe act of pinching her neck, freshly disfiguredwith great scarlet blots. 'It'snothingtoyouwhat'sthematter.Itdon'tsignifytoanyone.'

'Oyesitdoes;Iamsorrytoseeyouso.'

'Youarenotsorry,'saidthegirl.'Youareglad.Youknowyouareglad.Ineverwas like this but twice over in the quarantine yonder; and both times youfoundme.Iamafraidofyou.'

'Afraidofme?'

'Yes.Youseemtocomelikemyownanger,myownmalice,myownwhateveritisIdon'tknowwhatitis.ButIamillused,Iamillused,Iamillused!'Herethe sobs and the tears, and the tearing hand,which had all been suspendedtogethersincethefirstsurprise,wentontogetheranew.

The visitor stood looking at her with a strange attentive smile. It waswonderfultoseethefuryofthecontestinthegirl,andthebodilystruggleshemadeasifshewererentbytheDemonsofold.

'Iamyoungerthansheisbytwoorthreeyears,andyetit'smethatlooksafterher,asifIwasold,andit'sshethat'salwayspettedandcalledBaby!Idetestthename. Ihateher!Theymakea foolofher, they spoilher.She thinksofnothing but herself, she thinks no more of me than if I was a stock and astone!'Sothegirlwenton.

'Youmusthavepatience.'

'IWON'Thavepatience!'

'Iftheytakemuchcareofthemselves,andlittleornoneofyou,youmustnotmindit.'

IWILLmindit.'

'Hush!Bemoreprudent.Youforgetyourdependentposition.'

'Idon'tcareforthat.I'llrunaway.I'lldosomemischief.Iwon'tbearit;Ican'tbearit;IshalldieifItrytobearit!'

Theobserverstoodwithherhanduponherownbosom,lookingatthegirl,asone afflicted with a diseased part might curiously watch the dissection andexpositionofananalogouscase.

Thegirlragedandbattledwithall theforceofheryouthandfulnessof life,until by little and little her passionate exclamations trailed off into brokenmurmurs as if she were in pain. By corresponding degrees she sank into achair,thenuponherknees,thenuponthegroundbesidethebed,drawingthecoverletwithher,halftohidehershamedheadandwethairinit,andhalf,asit seemed, to embrace it, rather than have nothing to take to her repentantbreast.

'Goawayfromme,goawayfromme!Whenmytempercomesuponme,Iammad.IknowImightkeepitoffifIonlytriedhardenough,andsometimesIdotryhardenough,andatothertimesIdon'tandwon't.WhathaveIsaid!Iknew when I said it, it was all lies. They think I am being taken care ofsomewhere,andhaveallIwant.

Theyarenothingbutgoodtome.Ilovethemdearly;nopeoplecouldeverbekindertoathanklesscreaturethantheyalwaysaretome.Do,dogoaway,forIamafraidofyou.IamafraidofmyselfwhenIfeelmytempercoming,andIamasmuchafraidofyou.Goawayfromme,andletmeprayandcrymyselfbetter!'Thedaypassedon;andagainthewidestarestareditselfout;andthehot nightwas onMarseilles; and through it the caravan of themorning, alldispersed,wenttheirappointedways.Andthuseverbydayandnight,underthe sun and under the stars, climbing the dusty hills and toiling along thewearyplains,journeyingbylandandjourneyingbysea,comingandgoingsostrangely, tomeet and to act and react onone another,move allwe restlesstravellersthroughthepilgrimageoflife.

CHAPTER3.

Home

It was a Sunday evening in London, gloomy, close, and stale. Maddeningchurchbellsofalldegreesofdissonance,sharpandflat,crackedandclear,fastand slow,made thebrickandmortar echoeshideous.Melancholy streets, in apenitentialgarbofsoot,steepedthesoulsofthepeoplewhowerecondemned

to lookat themoutofwindows, indiredespondency.Inevery thoroughfare,upalmosteveryalley,anddownalmosteveryturning,somedolefulbellwasthrobbing,jerking,tolling,asifthePlaguewereinthecityandthedeadcartsweregoinground.Everythingwasboltedandbarredthatcouldbypossibilityfurnishrelieftoanoverworkedpeople.Nopictures,nounfamiliaranimals,norareplantsorflowers,nonaturalorartificialwondersoftheancientworldallTABOOwith thatenlightenedstrictness, that theuglySouthSeagods in theBritishMuseummighthavesupposed themselvesathomeagain.Nothing toseebut streets, streets, streets.Nothing tobreathebut streets, streets, streets.Nothing to change the broodingmind, or raise it up. Nothing for the spenttoiler to do, but to compare the monotony of his seventh day with themonotonyofhissixdays,thinkwhatawearylifeheled,andmakethebestofitortheworst,accordingtotheprobabilities.

Atsuchahappy time,sopropitious to the interestsof religionandmorality,MrArthurClennam,newlyarrivedfromMarseillesbywayofDover,andbyDover coach the Blueeyed Maid, sat in the window of a coffeehouse onLudgateHill.Ten thousand responsiblehouses surroundedhim, frowning asheavilyonthestreetstheycomposed,asif theywereeveryoneinhabitedbythe ten young men of the Calender's story, who blackened their faces andbemoaned their miseries every night. Fifty thousand lairs surrounded himwherepeople lived sounwholesomely that fairwaterput into their crowdedrooms on Saturday night, would be corrupt on Sunday morning; albeit mylord, theircountymember,wasamazed that they failed to sleep incompanywith theirbutcher'smeat.Milesofclosewellsandpitsofhouses,where theinhabitants gasped for air, stretched far away towards every point of thecompass.Throughtheheartofthetownadeadlysewerebbedandflowed,intheplaceof a fine fresh river.What secularwant could themillionor soofhuman beings whose daily labour, six days in the week, lay among theseArcadian objects, from the sweet sameness of which they had no escapebetweenthecradleandthegravewhatsecularwantcould theypossiblyhaveupon their seventh day? Clearly they could want nothing but a stringentpoliceman.

MrArthur Clennam sat in thewindow of the coffeehouse on LudgateHill,counting one of the neighbouring bells, making sentences and burdens ofsongs out of it in spite of himself, andwondering howmany sick people itmightbe thedeathof in the courseof theyear.As thehour approached, itschanges ofmeasuremade itmore andmore exasperating.At the quarter, itwentoffintoaconditionofdeadlylivelyimportunity,urgingthepopulaceinavolublemannertoCometochurch,Cometochurch,Cometochurch!Attheten minutes, it became aware that the congregation would be scanty, andslowlyhammeredoutinlowspirits,TheyWON'Tcome,theyWON'Tcome,

theyWON'Tcome!Atthefiveminutes,itabandonedhope,andshookeveryhouseintheneighbourhoodforthreehundredseconds,withonedismalswingpersecond,asagroanofdespair.

'ThankHeaven!'saidClennam,whenthehourstruck,andthebellstopped.

But its sound had revived a long train of miserable Sundays, and theprocessionwouldnotstopwith thebell,butcontinuedtomarchon. 'Heavenforgiveme,'saidhe,'andthosewhotrainedme.HowIhavehatedthisday!'

Therewas the dreary Sunday of his childhood,when he satwith his handsbefore him, scared out of his senses by a horrible tract which commencedbusinesswith thepoorchildbyaskinghim in its title,whyhewasgoing toPerdition?apieceofcuriositythathereally,inafrockanddrawers,wasnotinacondition to satisfyandwhich, for the furtherattractionofhis infantmind,hadaparenthesisineveryotherlinewithsomesuchhiccuppingreferenceas2Ep.Thess.c.iii,v.6&7.TherewasthesleepySundayofhisboyhood,when,like amilitary deserter, hewasmarched to chapel by a picquet of teachersthree times a day, morally handcuffed to another boy; and when he wouldwillinglyhavebarteredtwomealsofindigestiblesermonforanotherounceortwo of inferior mutton at his scanty dinner in the flesh. There was theinterminable Sunday of his nonage; when his mother, stern of face andunrelenting of heart, would sit all day behind a Biblebound, like her ownconstructionofit, inthehardest,barest,andstraitestboards,withonedintedornamentonthecoverlikethedragofachain,andawrathfulsprinklingofredupontheedgesof theleavesasif it,ofallbooks!wereafortificationagainstsweetnessof temper,naturalaffection,andgentle intercourse.Therewas theresentfulSundayofa little later,whenhesatdowngloweringandgloomingthroughthetardylengthoftheday,withasullensenseofinjuryinhisheart,andnomorerealknowledgeof thebeneficenthistoryof theNewTestamentthanifhehadbeenbredamongidolaters.TherewasalegionofSundays,alldaysofunserviceablebitternessandmortification,slowlypassingbeforehim.'Begpardon,sir,'saidabriskwaiter,rubbingthetable.'Wishseebedroom?'

'Yes.Ihavejustmadeupmymindtodoit.'

'Chaymaid!'criedthewaiter.'Gelenboxnumsevenwishseeroom!'

'Stay!' said Clennam, rousing himself. 'I was not thinking of what I said; Iansweredmechanically.Iamnotgoingtosleephere.Iamgoinghome.'

'Deed,sir?Chaymaid!Gelenboxnumseven,notgosleephere,gome.'

Hesatinthesameplaceasthedaydied,lookingatthedullhousesopposite,and thinking, if the disembodied spirits of former inhabitants were ever

conscious of them, how they must pity themselves for their old places ofimprisonment. Sometimes a face would appear behind the dingy glass of awindow,andwouldfadeawayintothegloomasifithadseenenoughoflifeand had vanished out of it. Presently the rain began to fall in slanting linesbetweenhimandthosehouses,andpeoplebegantocollectundercoverofthepublic passage opposite, and to look out hopelessly at the sky as the raindropped thicker and faster. Then wet umbrellas began to appear, draggledskirts,andmud.What themudhadbeendoingwith itself,orwhere itcamefrom,whocouldsay?Butitseemedtocollectinamoment,asacrowdwill,andinfiveminutestohavesplashedallthesonsanddaughtersofAdam.Thelamplighterwasgoinghis roundsnow;andas thefiery jetssprangupunderhis touch, one might have fancied them astonished at being suffered tointroduceanyshowofbrightnessintosuchadismalscene.

MrArthurClennamtookuphishatandbuttonedhiscoat,andwalkedout.Inthecountry,therainwouldhavedevelopedathousandfreshscents,andeverydropwouldhavehaditsbrightassociationwithsomebeautifulformofgrowthor life. In the city, it developed only foul stale smells, and was a sickly,lukewarm,dirtstained,wretchedadditiontothegutters.

HecrossedbyStPaul'sandwentdown,atalongangle,almosttothewater'sedge,throughsomeofthecrookedanddescendingstreetswhichlie(andlaymorecrookedlyandclosely then)between the riverandCheapside.Passing,now the mouldy hall of some obsolete Worshipful Company, now theilluminatedwindowsofaCongregationlessChurchthatseemedtobewaitingfor some adventurousBelzoni to dig it out and discover its history; passingsilentwarehousesandwharves,andhereand thereanarrowalley leading totheriver,whereawretchedlittlebill,FOUNDDROWNED,wasweepingonthewetwall;hecameat last to thehousehesought.Anoldbrickhouse,sodingyas tobeallbutblack,standingby itselfwithinagateway.Before it,asquare courtyard where a shrub or two and a patch of grass were as rank(whichissayingmuch)astheironrailingsenclosingthemwererusty;behindit,ajumbleofroots.Itwasadoublehouse,withlong,narrow,heavilyframedwindows.Manyyearsago,ithadhaditinitsmindtoslidedownsideways;ithadbeenproppedup,however,andwas leaningonsomehalfdozengiganticcrutches: which gymnasium for the neighbouring cats, weatherstained,smokeblackened,andovergrownwithweeds,appearedintheselatterdaystobenoverysurereliance.

'Nothing changed,' said the traveller, stopping to look round. 'Dark andmiserableasever.Alightinmymother'swindow,whichseemsnevertohavebeenextinguishedsinceIcamehometwiceayearfromschool,anddraggedmyboxoverthispavement.Well,well,well!'

Hewent up to the door, which had a projecting canopy in carved work offestooned jacktowels and children's headswithwater on the brain, designedafter a oncepopularmonumental pattern, and knocked.A shuffling stepwassoonheardonthestonefloorofthehall,andthedoorwasopenedbyanoldman,bentanddried,butwithkeeneyes.

Hehadacandleinhishand,andhehelditupforamomenttoassisthiskeeneyes. 'Ah,MrArthur?' he said,without any emotion, 'you are come at last?Stepin.'

MrArthursteppedinandshutthedoor.

'Yourfigureisfilledout,andset,'saidtheoldman,turningtolookathimwiththe light raisedagain, and shakinghishead; 'butyoudon't comeup toyourfatherinmyopinion.Noryetyourmother.'

'Howismymother?'

'Sheisasshealwaysisnow.Keepsherroomwhennotactuallybedridden,andhasn'tbeenoutofitfifteentimesinasmanyyears,Arthur.'Theyhadwalkedintoa spare,meagrediningroom.Theoldmanhadput thecandlestickuponthetable,and,supportinghisrightelbowwithhislefthand,wassmoothinghisleathernjawswhilehelookedatthevisitor.Thevisitorofferedhishand.Theoldman took it coldly enough, and seemed to prefer his jaws, towhich hereturnedassoonashecould.

'I doubt if yourmotherwill approve of your coming home on the Sabbath,Arthur,'hesaid,shakinghisheadwarily.

'Youwouldn'thavemegoawayagain?'

'Oh!I?I?Iamnotthemaster.It'snotwhatIwouldhave.Ihavestoodbetweenyourfatherandmotherforanumberofyears.Idon'tpretendtostandbetweenyourmotherandyou.'

'WillyoutellherthatIhavecomehome?'

'Yes,Arthur,yes.Oh,tobesure!I'lltellherthatyouhavecomehome.Pleasetowaithere.Youwon'tfindtheroomchanged.'

Hetookanothercandlefromacupboard,lightedit,leftthefirstonthetable,andwentuponhiserrand.Hewasashort,baldoldman,inahighshoulderedblackcoatandwaistcoat,drabbreeches,andlongdrabgaiters.Hemight,fromhis dress, havebeen either clerkor servant, and in fact had longbeenboth.Therewasnothingabouthiminthewayofdecorationbutawatch,whichwasloweredintothedepthsofitsproperpocketbyanoldblackribbon,andhada

tarnishedcopperkeymooredabove it, to showwhere itwassunk.Hisheadwasawry,andhehadaonesided,crablikewaywithhim,asifhisfoundationshadyieldedataboutthesametimeasthoseofthehouse,andheoughttohavebeenproppedupinasimilarmanner.

'HowweakamI,'saidArthurClennam,whenhewasgone,'thatIcouldshedtearsatthisreception!I,whohaveneverexperiencedanythingelse;whohavenever expected anything else.' He not only could, but did. It was themomentaryyieldingofanaturethathadbeendisappointedfromthedawnofits perceptions, but had not quite given up all its hopeful yearnings yet.Hesubdued it, took up the candle, and examined the room.The old articles offurniturewereintheiroldplaces;thePlaguesofEgypt,muchthedimmerfortheflyandsmokeplaguesofLondon,wereframedandglazeduponthewalls.Therewas the old cellaretwith nothing in it, linedwith lead, like a sort ofcoffinincompartments;therewastheolddarkcloset,alsowithnothinginit,ofwhichhehadbeenmanya timethesolecontents, indaysofpunishment,whenhehadregardeditastheveritableentrancetothatbournetowhichthetracthadfoundhimgalloping.Therewasthelarge,hardfeaturedclockonthesideboard,whichhe used to see bending its figuredbrowsuponhimwith asavagejoywhenhewasbehindhandwithhislessons,andwhich,whenitwaswound up once a week with an iron handle, used to sound as if it weregrowling in ferocious anticipation of themiseries intowhich itwould bringhim.Butherewastheoldmancomeback,saying, 'Arthur,I'llgobeforeandlightyou.'

Arthurfollowedhimupthestaircase,whichwaspanelledoffintospaceslikeso many mourning tablets, into a dim bedchamber, the floor of which hadgradually so sunk and settled, that the fireplace was in a dell. On a blackbierlikesofa in thishollow,proppedupbehindwithonegreatangularblackbolsterliketheblockatastateexecutioninthegoodoldtimes,sathismotherinawidow'sdress.

Sheandhisfatherhadbeenatvariancefromhisearliestremembrance.Tositspeechlesshimselfinthemidstofrigidsilence,glancingindreadfromtheoneaverted face to the other, had been the peacefullest occupation of hischildhood. She gave him one glassy kiss, and four stiff fingers muffled inworsted. This embrace concluded, he sat down on the opposite side of herlittletable.Therewasafireinthegrate,astherehadbeennightanddayforfifteenyears.Therewasakettleonthehob,astherehadbeennightanddayforfifteenyears.Therewasalittlemoundofdampedashesonthetopofthefire,andanotherlittlemoundswepttogetherunderthegrate,astherehadbeennightanddayforfifteenyears.Therewasasmellofblackdyeintheairlessroom, which the fire had been drawing out of the crape and stuff of the

widow'sdressforfifteenmonths,andoutofthebierlikesofaforfifteenyears.

'Mother,thisisachangefromyouroldactivehabits.'

'Theworldhasnarrowed to thesedimensions,Arthur,' she rep lied,glancinground the room. 'It iswell forme that I never setmyheart upon its hollowvanities.'

Theoldinfluenceofherpresenceandhersternstrongvoice,sogatheredaboutherson,thathefeltconsciousofarenewalofthetimidchillandreserveofhischildhood.

'Doyouneverleaveyourroom,mother?'

'What with my rheumatic affection, and what with its attendant debility ornervousweaknessnamesareofnomatternowIhavelosttheuseofmylimbs.Inever leavemy room. I havenot beenoutside this door fortell him forhowlong,'shesaid,speakingoverhershoulder.

'A dozen year nextChristmas,' returned a cracked voice out of the dimnessbehind.

'IsthatAffery?'saidArthur,lookingtowardsit.

ThecrackedvoicerepliedthatitwasAffery:andanoldwomancameforwardintowhat doubtful light therewas, andkissedher handonce; then subsidedagainintothedimness.

'I am able,' saidMrs Clennam, with a slightmotion of her worstedmuffledright hand toward a chair on wheels, standing before a tall writing cabinetcloseshutup,'Iamabletoattendtomybusinessduties,andIamthankfulfortheprivilege.Itisagreatprivilege.Butnomoreofbusinessonthisday.Itisabadnight,isitnot?'

'Yes,mother.'

'Doesitsnow?'

'Snow,mother?AndweonlyyetinSeptember?'

'Allseasonsarealiketome,'shereturned,withagrimkindofluxuriousness.'Iknownothingofsummerandwinter,shutuphere.

TheLordhasbeenpleasedtoputmebeyondallthat.'Withhercoldgreyeyesand her cold grey hair, and her immovable face, as stiff as the folds of herstony headdress,her being beyond the reach of the seasons seemed but a fitsequencetoherbeingbeyondthereachofallchangingemotions.

On her little table lay two or three books, her handkerchief, a pair of steelspectaclesnewlytakenoff,andanoldfashionedgoldwatchinaheavydoublecase.Uponthislastobjectherson'seyesandherownnowrestedtogether.

'I see that you received the packet I sent you on my father's death, safely,mother.'

'Yousee.'

'Ineverknewmyfather toshowsomuchanxietyonanysubject,as thathiswatchshouldbesentstraighttoyou.'

'Ikeepithereasaremembranceofyourfather.'

'Itwasnotuntil thelast, thatheexpressedthewish;whenhecouldonlyputhis hand upon it, and very indistinctly say tome "yourmother."Amomentbefore,Ithoughthimwanderinginhismind,ashehadbeenformanyhoursIthinkhehadnoconsciousnessofpaininhisshortillnesswhenIsawhimturnhimselfinhisbedandtrytoopenit.'

'Wasyourfather,then,notwanderinginhismindwhenhetriedtoopenit?'

'No.Hewasquitesensibleatthattime.'

Mrs Clennam shook her head; whether in dismissal of the deceased oropposingherselftoherson'sopinion,wasnotclearlyexpressed.

'After my father's death I opened it myself, thinking there might be, foranything Iknew,somememorandumthere.However,as Ineednot tellyou,mother,therewasnothingbuttheoldsilkwatchpaperworkedinbeads,whichyoufound(nodoubt)initsplacebetweenthecases,whereIfoundandleftit.'

MrsClennamsignifiedassent;thenadded,'Nomoreofbusinessonthisday,'andthenadded,'Affery,itisnineo'clock.'

Upon this, theoldwomancleared the little table,wentoutof the room,andquickly returnedwith a trayonwhichwas adishof little rusks anda smallprecisepatofbutter,cool,symmetrical,white,andplump.Theoldmanwhohad been standing by the door in one attitude during the whole interview,lookingatthemotherupstairsashehadlookedatthesondownstairs,wentoutat the same time, and, after a longer absence, returnedwith another tray onwhichwas the greater part of a bottle of portwine (which, to judge by hispanting,hehadbrought from thecellar), a lemon, a sugarbasin, anda spicebox.Withthesematerialsandtheaidofthekettle,hefilledatumblerwithahotandodorousmixture,measuredoutandcompoundedwithasmuchnicetyasaphysician'sprescription.IntothismixtureMrsClennamdippedcertainof

the rusks, and ate them; while the old woman buttered certain other of therusks,whichweretobeeatenalone.Whentheinvalidhadeatenalltherusksanddrunkallthemixture,thetwotrayswereremoved;andthebooksandthecandle,watch,handkerchief,andspectacleswerereplaceduponthetable.Shethenputonthespectaclesandreadcertainpassagesaloudfromabooksternly,fiercely,wrathfullyprayingthatherenemies(shemadethembyher toneandmannerexpresslyhers)mightbeput to theedgeof thesword,consumedbyfire,smittenbyplaguesandleprosy,thattheirbonesmightbegroundtodust,andthattheymightbeutterlyexterminated.Asshereadon,yearsseemedtofall away fromher son like the imaginingsof a dream, and all theolddarkhorrors of his usual preparation for the sleep of an innocent child toovershadowhim.

Sheshutthebookandremainedforalittletimewithherfaceshadedbyherhand.Sodidtheoldman,otherwisestillunchangedinattitude;so,probably,didtheoldwomaninherdimmerpartoftheroom.Thenthesickwomanwasreadyforbed.

'Goodnight,Arthur.Afferywillseetoyouraccommodation.Onlytouchme,formyhandistender.'Hetouchedtheworstedmufflingofherhandthatwasnothing; ifhismotherhadbeensheathed inbrass therewouldhavebeennonewbarrierbetweenthemandfollowedtheoldmanandwomandownstairs.

The latter asked him, when they were alone together among the heavyshadowsofthediningroom,wouldhehavesomesupper?

'No,Affery,nosupper.'

'You shall if you like,' said Affery. 'There's her tomorrow's partridge in thelarderherfirstthisyear;saythewordandI'llcookit.'

No,hehadnotlongdined,andcouldeatnothing.

'Havesomethingtodrink,then,'saidAffery;'youshallhavesomeofherbottleofport,ifyoulike.I'lltellJeremiahthatyouorderedmetobringityou.'

No;norwouldhehavethat,either.

'It'snoreason,Arthur,'saidtheoldwoman,bendingoverhimtowhisper,'thatbecause I am afeared ofmy life of 'em, you should be.You've got half theproperty,haven'tyou?'

'Yes,yes.'

'Wellthen,don'tyoubecowed.You'reclever,Arthur,an'tyou?'Henodded,asshe seemed to expect an answer in the affirmative. 'Then stand up against

them!She'sawfulclever,andnonebutacleveronedurstsayaword toher.HE'Sacleveroneoh,he'sacleverone!andhegivesitherwhenhehasamindto't,hedoes!'

'Yourhusbanddoes?'

'Does? It makes me shake from head to foot, to hear him give it her. Myhusband,JeremiahFlintwinch,canconquerevenyourmother.Whatcanhebebutacleveronetodothat!'

Hisshufflingfootstepcomingtowardsthemcausedhertoretreattotheotherendoftheroom.Thoughatall,hardfavoured,sinewyoldwoman,whoinheryouthmighthaveenlistedintheFootGuardswithoutmuchfearofdiscovery,shecollapsedbeforethelittlekeeneyedcrablikeoldman.

'Now, Affery,' said he, 'now, woman, what are you doing? Can't you findMasterArthursomethingoranothertopickat?'

MasterArthurrepeatedhisrecentrefusaltopickatanything.

'Verywell,then,'saidtheoldman;'makehisbed.Stiryourself.'Hisneckwassotwistedthattheknottedendsofhiswhitecravatusuallydangledunderoneear;hisnaturalacerbityandenergy,alwayscontendingwithasecondnatureofhabitual repression, gave his features a swollen and suffused look; andaltogether,hehadaweirdappearanceofhavinghangedhimselfatonetimeorother, and of having gone about ever since, halter and all, exactly as sometimelyhandhadcuthimdown.

'You'll have bitter words together tomorrow, Arthur; you and your mother,'saidJeremiah.'Yourhavinggivenupthebusinessonyourfather'sdeathwhichshesuspects,thoughwehaveleftittoyoutotellherwon'tgooffsmoothly.'

'Ihavegivenupeverythinginlifeforthebusiness,andthetimecameformetogiveupthat.'

'Good!'criedJeremiah,evidentlymeaningBad.'Verygood!onlydon'texpectme to stand between your mother and you, Arthur. I stood between yourmother and your father, fending off this, and fending off that, and gettingcrushedandpoundedbetwixtem;andI'vedonewithsuchwork.'

'Youwillneverbeaskedtobeginitagainforme,Jeremiah.'

'Good. I'm glad to hear it; because I should have had to decline it, if I hadbeen.That'senoughasyourmothersaysandmorethanenoughofsuchmattersonaSabbathnight.Affery,woman,haveyoufoundwhatyouwantyet?'

She had been collecting sheets and blankets from a press, and hastened togather themup,and to reply, 'Yes, Jeremiah.'ArthurClennamhelpedherbycarrying the loadhimself,wished theoldmangoodnight,andwentupstairswithhertothetopofthehouse.

Theymountedupandup,throughthemustysmellofanoldclosehouse,littleused,toalargegarretbedroom.Meagreandspare,likealltheotherrooms,itwasevenuglierandgrimmerthantherest,bybeingtheplaceofbanishmentfor the wornout furniture. Its movables were ugly old chairs with wornoutseats,anduglyoldchairswithoutanyseats;athreadbarepatternlesscarpet,amaimedtable,acrippledwardrobe,aleansetoffireironsliketheskeletonofasetdeceased,awashingstandthatlookedasifithadstoodforagesinahailofdirty soapsuds, and a bedstead with four bare atomies of posts, eachterminating in a spike, as if for the dismal accommodation of lodgers whomightprefer to impalethemselves.Arthuropenedthelonglowwindow,andlookedoutupontheoldblastedandblackenedforestofchimneys,andtheoldredglareinthesky,whichhadseemedtohimonceuponatimebutanightlyreflectionofthefieryenvironmentthatwaspresentedtohischildishfancyinalldirections,letitlookwhereitwould.

Hedrewinhisheadagain,satdownat thebedside,andlookedonatAfferyFlintwinchmakingthebed.

'Affery,youwerenotmarriedwhenIwentaway.'

She screwed her mouth into the form of saying 'No,' shook her head, andproceededtogetapillowintoitscase.

'Howdidithappen?'

'Why,Jeremiah,o'course,'saidAffery,withanendofthepillowcasebetweenherteeth.

'Of course he proposed it, but how did it all come about? I should havethought that neither of you would have married; least of all should I havethoughtofyourmarryingeachother.'

'NomoreshouldI,'saidMrsFlintwinch,tyingthepillowtightlyinitscase.

'That'swhatImean.Whendidyoubegintothinkotherwise?'

'Neverbeguntothinkotherwiseatall,'saidMrsFlintwinch.

Seeing,asshepattedthepillowintoitsplaceonthebolster,thathewasstilllookingatherasifwaitingfortherestofherreply,shegaveitagreatpokeinthemiddle,andasked,'HowcouldIhelpmyself?'

'Howcouldyouhelpyourselffrombeingmarried!'

'O'course,'saidMrsFlintwinch.'Itwasnodoingo'mine.I'Dneverthoughtofit.I'dgotsomethingtodo,withoutthinking,indeed!Shekeptmetoit(aswellashe)whenshecouldgoabout,andshecouldgoaboutthen.''Well?'

'Well?' echoedMrs Flintwinch. 'That'swhat I saidmyself.Well!What's theuseofconsidering? If themtwocleveroneshavemadeup theirminds to it,what'sleftformetodo?Nothing.'

'Wasitmymother'sproject,then?'

'TheLordblessyou,Arthur,andforgivemethewish!'criedAffery,speakingalways ina low tone. 'If theyhadn'tbeenbothofamind in it,howcould iteverhavebeen? Jeremiahnevercourtedme; t'ant likely thathewould, afterlivinginthehousewithmeandorderingmeaboutforasmanyyearsashe'ddone.Hesaidtomeoneday,hesaid,"Affery,"hesaid,"nowIamgoingtotellyou something.Whatdoyou thinkof thenameofFlintwinch?" "Whatdo Ithinkofit?"Isays."Yes,"hesaid,"becauseyou'regoingtotakeit,"hesaid."Takeit?"Isays."JereMIah?"Oh!he'sacleverone!'

Mrs Flintwinch went on to spread the upper sheet over the bed, and theblanketoverthat,andthecounterpaneoverthat,asifshehadquiteconcludedherstory.'Well?'saidArthuragain.

'Well?' echoedMrsFlintwinch again. 'How could I helpmyself?He said tome,"Affery,youandmemustbemarried,andI'lltellyouwhy.She'sfailinginhealth,andshe'llwantprettyconstantattendanceupinherroom,andweshallhave to bemuchwith her, and there'll be nobody about now but ourselveswhenwe'reawayfromher,andaltogetheritwillbemoreconvenient.She'sofmyopinion,"hesaid,"soifyou'llputyourbonnetonnextMondaymorningateight,we'llgetitover."'MrsFlintwinchtuckedupthebed.

'Well?'

'Well?' repeated Mrs Flintwinch, 'I think so! I sits me down and says it.Well!Jeremiahthensaystome,"Astobanns,nextSundaybeingthethirdtimeofasking(forI'veput 'emupafortnight), ismyreasonfornamingMonday.She'llspeaktoyouaboutitherself,andnowshe'llfindyouprepared,Affery."Thatsamedayshespoke tome,andshesaid,"So,Affery, Iunderstand thatyouandJeremiaharegoingtobemarried.Iamgladofit,andsoareyou,withreason. It is a very good thing for you, and very welcome under thecircumstances to me. He is a sensible man, and a trustworthy man, and aperseveringman, and a piousman."What could I saywhen it had come tothat?Why, if ithadbeenasmothering insteadofawedding,'MrsFlintwinch

castaboutinhermindwithgreatpainsforthisformofexpression,'Icouldn'thavesaidaworduponit,againstthemtwocleverones.'

'Ingoodfaith,Ibelieveso.''Andsoyoumay,Arthur.'

'Affery,whatgirlwasthatinmymother'sroomjustnow?'

'Girl?'saidMrsFlintwinchinarathersharpkey.

'Itwasagirl,surely,whomIsawnearyoualmosthiddeninthedarkcorner?'

'Oh! She? Little Dorrit? She's nothing; she's a whim ofhers.' It was apeculiarity of Affery Flintwinch that she never spoke of Mrs Clennam byname. 'Butthere'sanothersortofgirlsthanthatabout.Haveyouforgotyouroldsweetheart?Longandlongago,I'llbebound.'

'Isufferedenoughfrommymother'sseparatingus,torememberher.

Irecollectherverywell.'

'Haveyougotanother?'

'No.'

'Here'snewsforyou,then.She'swelltodonow,andawidow.Andifyouliketohaveher,whyyoucan.'

'Andhowdoyouknowthat,Affery?'

'Them two clever ones have been speaking about it.There's Jeremiah on thestairs!'Shewasgoneinamoment.

MrsFlintwinchhadintroducedintothewebthathismindwasbusilyweaving,in thatoldworkshopwhere the loomofhisyouthhad stood, the last threadwantingtothepattern.Theairyfollyofaboy'slovehadfounditswayevenintothathouse,andhehadbeenaswretchedunderitshopelessnessasif thehousehadbeenacastleofromance.LittlemorethanaweekagoatMarseilles,the faceof theprettygirl fromwhomhehadpartedwith regret,hadhadanunusual interest for him, and a tender hold upon him, because of someresemblance, real or imagined, to this first face that had soared out of hisgloomylifeintothebrightgloriesoffancy.Heleaneduponthesillofthelonglowwindow, and looking out upon the blackened forest of chimneys again,begantodream;forithadbeentheuniformtendencyofthisman'slifesomuchwaswantinginittothinkabout,somuchthatmighthavebeenbetterdirectedandhappiertospeculateupontomakehimadreamer,afterall.

CHAPTER4.

MrsFlintwinchhasaDream

WhenMrsFlintwinchdreamed,sheusuallydreamed,unlikethesonofheroldmistress,withhereyesshut.Shehadacuriouslyvividdreamthatnight,andbeforeshehadleftthesonofheroldmistressmanyhours.Infactitwasnotatalllikeadream;itwassoveryrealineveryrespect.Ithappenedinthiswise.

ThebedchamberoccupiedbyMrandMrsFlintwinchwaswithinafewpacesof that towhichMrsClennamhadbeenso longconfined. Itwasnoton thesamefloor,foritwasaroomatthesideofthehouse,whichwasapproachedbyasteepdescentofafewoddsteps,divergingfromthemainstaircasenearlyoppositetoMrsClennam'sdoor.Itcouldscarcelybesaidtobewithincall,thewalls, doors, and panelling of the old place were so cumbrous; but it waswithineasyreach,inanyundress,atanyhourofthenight,inanytemperature.AttheheadofthebedandwithinafootofMrsFlintwinch'sear,wasabell,thelineofwhichhungreadytoMrsClennam'shand.Wheneverthisbellrang,upstartedAffery,andwasinthesickroombeforeshewasawake.

Havinggothermistressintobed,lightedherlamp,andgivenhergoodnight,Mrs Flintwinch went to roost as usual, saving that her lord had not yetappeared. It was her lord himself who becameunlike the last theme in themind, according to the observation of most philosophersthe subject of MrsFlintwinch'sdream.Itseemedtoherthatsheawokeaftersleepingsomehours,and foundJeremiahnotyetabed.That she lookedat thecandleshehad leftburning,and,measuring the time likeKingAlfred theGreat,wasconfirmedbyitswastedstateinherbeliefthatshehadbeenasleepforsomeconsiderableperiod.Thatshearosethereupon,muffledherselfupinawrapper,putonhershoes,andwentoutonthestaircase,muchsurprised,tolookforJeremiah.

Thestaircasewasaswoodenandsolidasneedbe, andAfferywent straightdownitwithoutanyofthosedeviationspeculiartodreams.Shedidnotskimoverit,butwalkeddownit,andguidedherselfbythebanistersonaccountofher candlehavingdiedout. Inonecornerof thehall, behind thehousedoor,therewasalittlewaitingroom,likeawellshaft,withalongnarrowwindowinitasifithadbeenrippedup.Inthisroom,whichwasneverused,alightwasburning.

MrsFlintwinchcrossedthehall,feelingitspavementcoldtoherstockinglessfeet,andpeepedinbetweentherustyhingesonthedoor,whichstoodalittleopen.SheexpectedtoseeJeremiahfastasleeporinafit,buthewascalmly

seated in a chair, awake, and in his usual health.Butwhathey?Lord forgiveus!MrsFlintwinchmutteredsomeejaculationtothiseffect,andturnedgiddy.

For,MrFlintwinchawake,waswatchingMrFlintwinchasleep.Hesatononeside of the small table, lookingkeenly at himself on the other sidewith hischinsunkonhisbreast,snoring.ThewakingFlintwinchhadhisfullfrontfacepresented to his wife; the sleeping Flintwinch was in profile. The wakingFlintwinchwastheoldoriginal; thesleepingFlintwinchwasthedouble, justasshemighthavedistinguishedbetweenatangibleobjectanditsreflectioninaglass,Afferymadeoutthisdifferencewithherheadgoingroundandround.

If she hadhad anydoubtwhichwas her own Jeremiah, itwould have beenresolved by his impatience. He looked about him for an offensive weapon,caught up the snuffers, and, before applying them to the cabbageheadedcandle, lunged at the sleeper as though hewould have run him through thebody.

'Who'sthat?What'sthematter?'criedthesleeper,starting.

Mr Flintwinch made a movement with the snuffers, as if he would haveenforced silence on his companion by putting them down his throat; thecompanion,comingtohimself,said,rubbinghiseyes,'IforgotwhereIwas.'

'Youhavebeen asleep,' snarled Jeremiah, referring tohiswatch, 'twohours.Yousaidyouwouldberestedenoughifyouhadashortnap.'

'Ihavehadashortnap,'saidDouble.

'Halfpast twoo'clock in themorning,'mutteredJeremiah. 'Where'syourhat?Where'syourcoat?Where'sthebox?'

'Allhere,'saidDouble,tyinguphisthroatwithsleepycarefulnessinashawl.'Stopaminute.Nowgivemethesleevenotthatsleeve,theotherone.Ha!I'mnot as young as I was.' Mr Flintwinch had pulled him into his coat withvehementenergy.'YoupromisedmeasecondglassafterIwasrested.'

'Drink it!' returnedJeremiah, 'andchokeyourself, Iwasgoingtosaybutgo, Imean.'Atthesametimeheproducedtheidenticalportwinebottle,andfilledawineglass.

'Herportwine, Ibelieve?' saidDouble, tasting it as ifhewere in theDocks,withhourstospare.'Herhealth.'

Hetookasip.

'Yourhealth!'

Hetookanothersip.

'Hishealth!'

Hetookanothersip.

'And all friends round St Paul's.' He emptied and put down the wineglasshalfway through thisancientcivic toast,and tookup thebox. Itwasan ironbox some two feet square, which he carried under his arms pretty easily.Jeremiahwatchedhismannerofadjusting it,with jealouseyes; tried itwithhis hands, to be sure that he had a firmhold of it; bade him for his life becarefulwhathewasabout;and thenstoleouton tiptoe toopen thedoor forhim. Affery, anticipating the last movement, was on the staircase. Thesequenceofthingswassoordinaryandnatural,that,standingthere,shecouldhearthedooropen,feelthenightair,andseethestarsoutside.

Butnowcamethemostremarkablepartofthedream.Shefeltsoafraidofherhusband, that beingon the staircase, shehadnot thepower to retreat toherroom(whichshemighteasilyhavedonebeforehehadfastenedthedoor),butstoodtherestaring.Consequentlywhenhecameupthestaircasetobed,candleinhand,hecamefulluponher.Helookedastonished,butsaidnotaword.Hekept his eyes upon her, and kept advancing; and she, completely under hisinfluence, kept retiring before him. Thus, she walking backward and hewalkingforward,theycameintotheirownroom.Theywerenosoonershutinthere,thanMrFlintwinchtookherbythethroat,andshookheruntilshewasblackintheface.

'Why, Affery, womanAffery!' said Mr Flintwinch. 'What have you beendreamingof?Wakeup,wakeup!What'sthematter?'

'Thethematter,Jeremiah?'gaspedMrsFlintwinch,rollinghereyes.

'Why,Affery,womanAffery!Youhavebeengettingoutofbedinyoursleep,mydear!Icomeup,afterhavingfallenasleepmyself,below,andfindyouinyourwrapperhere,with thenightmare.Affery,woman,' saidMrFlintwinch,withafriendlygrinonhisexpressivecountenance,'ifyoueverhaveadreamofthissortagain,it'llbeasignofyourbeinginwantofphysic.AndI'llgiveyousuchadose,oldwomansuchadose!'

MrsFlintwinchthankedhimandcreptintobed.

CHAPTER5.

FamilyAffairs

As the city clocks struck nine on Monday morning, Mrs Clennam waswheeled by Jeremiah Flintwinch of the cutdown aspect to her tall cabinet.When she had unlocked and opened it, and had settled herself at its desk,Jeremiahwithdrewasitmightbe,tohanghimselfmoreeffectuallyandhersonappeared.

'Areyouanybetterthismorning,mother?'

She shookherhead,with the sameaustereairof luxuriousness that shehadshownovernightwhenspeakingoftheweather.

'Ishallneverbebetteranymore.Itiswellforme,Arthur,thatIknowitandcanbearit.'

Sitting with her hands laid separately upon the desk, and the tall cabinettoweringbeforeher,shelookedasifshewereperformingonadumbchurchorgan.Hersonthoughtso(itwasanoldthoughtwithhim),whilehetookhisseatbesideit.

Sheopenedadrawerortwo,lookedoversomebusinesspapers,andputthemback again.Her severe face had no thread of relaxation in it, bywhich anyexplorercouldhavebeenguidedtothegloomylabyrinthofherthoughts.

'ShallIspeakofouraffairs,mother?Areyouinclinedtoenteruponbusiness?'

'AmIinclined,Arthur?Rather,areyou?Yourfatherhasbeendeadayearandmore.Ihavebeenatyourdisposal,andwaitingyourpleasure,eversince.'

'There was much to arrange before I could leave; and when I did leave, Itravelledalittleforrestandrelief.'

She turnedher face towardshim,asnothavingheardorunderstoodhis lastwords.'Forrestandrelief.'

Sheglancedroundthesombreroom,andappearedfromthemotionofherlipsto repeat thewords to herself, as calling it towitness how little of either itaffordedher.

'Besides, mother, you being sole executrix, and having the direction andmanagementoftheestate,thereremainedlittlebusiness,orImightsaynone,that I could transact, until you had had time to arrange matters to yoursatisfaction.'

'The accounts aremade out,' she returned. 'I have them here. The vouchershave all been examined and passed. You can inspect them when you like,Arthur;now,ifyouplease.'

'It is quite enough,mother, to know that the business is completed. Shall Iproceedthen?'

'Whynot?'shesaid,inherfrozenway.

'Mother, our House has done less and less for some years past, and ourdealingshavebeenprogressivelyonthedecline.Wehavenevershownmuchconfidence,or invitedmuch;wehaveattachednopeople tous; the trackwehavekeptisnotthetrackofthetime;andwehavebeenleftfarbehind.Ineednotdwellonthistoyou,mother.Youknowitnecessarily.'

'I know what you mean,' she answered, in a qualified tone. 'Even this oldhouseinwhichwespeak,'pursuedherson,'isaninstanceofwhatIsay.Inmyfather's earlier time, and in his uncle's time before him, it was a place ofbusinessreally a place of business, and business resort. Now, it is a mereanomaly and incongruity here, out of date and out of purpose. All ourconsignments have long been made to Rovinghams' thecommissionmerchants; and although, as a check upon them, and in thestewardship ofmy father's resources, your judgment andwatchfulness havebeenactivelyexerted, still thosequalitieswouldhave influencedmyfather'sfortunesequally,ifyouhadlivedinanyprivatedwelling:wouldtheynot?'

'Doyouconsider,'shereturned,withoutansweringhisquestion, 'thatahouseservesnopurpose,Arthur,inshelteringyourinfirmandafflictedjustlyinfirmandrighteouslyafflictedmother?'

'Iwasspeakingonlyofbusinesspurposes.'

'Withwhatobject?'

'Iamcomingtoit.'

'I foresee,' she returned, fixing her eyes upon him, 'what it is.But theLordforbidthatIshouldrepineunderanyvisitation.InmysinfulnessImeritbitterdisappointment,andIacceptit.'

'Mother, I grieve to hear you speak like this, though I have had myapprehensionsthatyouwould'

'YouknewIwould.YouknewME,'sheinterrupted.

Hersonpausedforamoment.Hehadstruckfireoutofher,andwassurprised.

'Well!'shesaid,relapsingintostone.'Goon.Letmehear.'

'You have anticipated, mother, that I decide for my part, to abandon thebusiness.Ihavedonewithit.Iwillnottakeuponmyselftoadviseyou;youwillcontinueit,Isee.IfIhadanyinfluencewithyou,Iwouldsimplyuseittosoftenyourjudgmentofmeincausingyouthisdisappointment:torepresenttoyouthatIhavelivedthehalfofalongtermoflife,andhaveneverbeforesetmy own will against yours. I cannot say that I have been able to conformmyself,inheartandspirit, toyourrules;IcannotsaythatIbelievemyfortyyears have been profitable or pleasant to myself, or any one; but I havehabituallysubmitted,andIonlyaskyoutorememberit.'

Woetothesuppliant,ifsuchaonetherewereoreverhadbeen,whohadanyconcession to look for in the inexorable face at the cabinet. Woe to thedefaulterwhoseappeal lay to the tribunalwhere those severeeyespresided.Greatneedhadtherigidwomanofhermysticalreligion,veiledingloomanddarkness, with lightnings of cursing, vengeance, and destruction, flashingthroughthesableclouds.Forgiveusourdebtsasweforgiveourdebtors,wasaprayer toopoor inspirit forher.SmiteThoumydebtors,Lord,wither them,crushthem;doThouasIwoulddo,andThoushalthavemyworship:thiswastheimpioustowerofstoneshebuiltuptoscaleHeaven.

'Haveyoufinished,Arthur,orhaveyouanythingmoretosaytome?

Ithinktherecanbenothingelse.Youhavebeenshort,butfullofmatter!'

'Mother,Ihaveyetsomethingmoretosay.Ithasbeenuponmymind,nightandday, this long time. It is farmoredifficult to say thanwhat Ihavesaid.Thatconcernedmyself;thisconcernsusall.'

'Usall!Whoareusall?'

'Yourself,myself,mydeadfather.'

She took her hands from the desk; folded them in her lap; and sat lookingtowardsthefire,withtheimpenetrabilityofanoldEgyptiansculpture.

'Youknewmy father infinitelybetter than I everknewhim; andhis reservewithme yielded to you. Youweremuch the stronger,mother, and directedhim. As a child, I knew it as well as I know it now. I knew that yourascendancyoverhimwasthecauseofhisgoingtoChinatotakecareofthebusinessthere,whileyoutookcareofithere(thoughIdonotevennowknowwhetherthesewerereallytermsofseparationthatyouagreedupon);andthatitwasyourwillthatIshouldremainwithyouuntilIwastwenty,andthengotohimas I did.Youwill not beoffendedbymy recalling this, after twenty

years?'

'Iamwaitingtohearwhyyourecallit.'

Heloweredhisvoice,andsaid,withmanifestreluctance,andagainsthiswill:

'Iwanttoaskyou,mother,whetheriteveroccurredtoyoutosuspect'

At thewordSuspect, she turnedher eyesmomentarilyuponher son,withadark frown. She then suffered them to seek the fire, as before; butwith thefrownfixedabovethem,asifthesculptorofoldEgypthadindenteditinthehardgraniteface,tofrownforages.

'that he had any secret remembrance which caused him trouble ofmindremorse?Whetheryoueverobservedanythinginhisconductsuggestingthat;oreverspoketohimuponit,oreverheardhimhintatsuchathing?'

'Idonotunderstandwhatkindofsecretremembranceyoumeantoinferthatyour father was a prey to,' she returned, after a silence. 'You speak somysteriously.'

'Isitpossible,mother,'hersonleanedforwardtobethenearertoherwhilehewhisperedit,andlaidhishandnervouslyuponherdesk,'isitpossible,mother,thathehadunhappilywrongedanyone,andmadenoreparation?'

Looking at him wrathfully, she bent herself back in her chair to keep himfurtheroff,butgavehimnoreply.

'Iamdeeplysensible,mother,thatifthisthoughthasneveratanytimeflasheduponyou,itmustseemcruelandunnaturalinme,eveninthisconfidence,tobreatheit.ButIcannotshakeitoff.

Time and change (I have tried both before breaking silence) do nothing towearitout.Remember,Iwaswithmyfather.Remember,Isawhisfacewhenhegavethewatchintomykeeping,andstruggledtoexpressthathesentitasatokenyouwouldunderstand,toyou.Remember,Isawhimatthelastwiththepencil inhis failinghand, trying towrite someword foryou to read, but towhichhecouldgivenoshape.ThemoreremoteandcruelthisvaguesuspicionthatIhave,thestrongerthecircumstancesthatcouldgiveitanysemblanceofprobabilitytome.ForHeaven'ssake,letusexaminesacredlywhetherthereisanywrongentrustedtoustosetright.Noonecanhelptowardsit,mother,butyou.'

Stillsorecoilinginherchairthatheroverpoisedweightmovedit,fromtimetotime,alittleonitswheels,andgavehertheappearanceofaphantomoffierceaspectglidingawayfromhim,sheinterposedherleftarm,bentattheelbow

with the back of her hand towards her face, between herself and him, andlookedathiminafixedsilence.

'Ingraspingatmoneyand indrivinghardbargainsIhavebegun, and Imustspeak of such things now, mothersome one may have been grievouslydeceived, injured, ruined.Youwere themovingpowerof all thismachinerybefore my birth; your stronger spirit has been infused into all my father'sdealings formore than two score years. You can set these doubts at rest, Ithink,ifyouwillreallyhelpmetodiscoverthetruth.Willyou,mother?'

Hestoppedinthehopethatshewouldspeak.Buthergreyhairwasnotmoreimmovableinitstwofolds,thanwereherfirmlips.

'Ifreparationcanbemadetoanyone,ifrestitutioncanbemadetoanyone,letusknowitandmake it.Nay,mother, ifwithinmymeans, letMEmake it. Ihave seen so little happiness come of money; it has brought within myknowledgesolittlepeacetothishouse,ortoanyonebelongingtoit,thatitisworth less tome than to another. It can buyme nothing that will not be areproachandmiserytome,ifIamhauntedbyasuspicionthatitdarkenedmyfather's last hourswith remorse, and that it is not honestly and justlymine.'Therewasabellropehangingon thepanelledwall, some twoor threeyardsfrom the cabinet. By a swift and sudden action of her foot, she drove herwheeledchairrapidlybacktoitandpulleditviolentlystillholdingherarmupinitsshieldlikeposture,asifhewerestrikingather,andshewardingofftheblow.

Agirlcamehurryingin,frightened.

'SendFlintwinchhere!'

Inamoment thegirlhadwithdrawn,andtheoldmanstoodwithin thedoor.'What!You'rehammerand tongs,already,you two?'hesaid,coollystrokinghisface.'Ithoughtyouwouldbe.Iwasprettysureofit.'

'Flintwinch!'saidthemother,'lookatmyson.Lookathim!'

'Well,IAMlookingathim,'saidFlintwinch.

Shestretchedoutthearmwithwhichshehadshieldedherself,andasshewenton,pointedattheobjectofheranger.

'In the very hour of his return almostbefore the shoe upon his foot is dryheasperseshisfather'smemorytohismother!Askshismothertobecome,withhim, a spyuponhis father's transactions through a lifetime!Hasmisgivingsthat thegoodsof thisworldwhichwehavepainfullygot together earlyandlate,withwearandtearandtoilandselfdenial,aresomuchplunder;andasks

towhomtheyshallbegivenup,asreparationandrestitution!'

Althoughshesaidthisraging,shesaiditinavoicesofarfrombeingbeyondher control that itwas even lower than her usual tone. She also spokewithgreatdistinctness.

'Reparation!'saidshe.'Yes,truly!Itiseasyforhimtotalkofreparation,freshfromjourneyingandjunketinginforeignlands,andlivingalifeofvanityandpleasure.Butlethimlookatme,inprison,andinbondshere.Iendurewithoutmurmuring,becauseitisappointedthatIshallsomakereparationformysins.Reparation!Istherenoneinthisroom?Hastherebeennoneherethisfifteenyears?'

Thus was she always balancing her bargains with the Majesty of heaven,postinguptheentriestohercredit,strictlykeepinghersetoff,andclaimingherdue.Shewasonlyremarkableinthis,fortheforceandemphasiswithwhichshedidit.Thousandsuponthousandsdoit,accordingtotheirvaryingmanner,everyday.

'Flintwinch,givemethatbook!'

Theoldmanhandedittoherfromthetable.Sheputtwofingersbetweentheleaves,closedthebookuponthem,andheldituptohersoninathreateningway. 'In the days of old, Arthur, treated of in this commentary, there werepiousmen, beloved of theLord,whowould have cursed their sons for lessthan this:whowould have sent them forth, and sentwhole nations forth, ifsuchhadsupportedthem,tobeavoidedofGodandman,andperish,downtothebabyat thebreast.But Ionly tellyou that ifyouever renew that themewithme,Iwillrenounceyou;Iwillsodismissyouthroughthatdoorway,thatyou had better have been motherless from your cradle. I will never see orknowyoumore.Andif,afterall,youweretocomeintothisdarkenedroomtolookuponmelyingdead,mybodyshouldbleed,ifIcouldmakeit,whenyoucamenearme.'

Inpart relievedby the intensityof this threat, and inpart (monstrous as thefactis)byageneralimpressionthatitwasinsomesortareligiousproceeding,shehandedbackthebooktotheoldman,andwassilent.

'Now,'saidJeremiah;'premisingthatI'mnotgoingtostandbetweenyoutwo,willyouletmeask(asIhavebeencalledin,andmadeathird)whatisallthisabout?'

'Takeyourversionofit,'returnedArthur,findingitlefttohimtospeak,'frommymother.Let it rest there.What Ihavesaid,wassaid tomymotheronly.''Oh!' returned the oldman. 'From yourmother? Take it from yourmother?

Well!But yourmothermentioned that youhadbeen suspectingyour father.That'snotdutiful,MrArthur.Whowillyoubesuspectingnext?'

'Enough,'saidMrsClennam,turningherfacesothatitwasaddressedforthemomenttotheoldmanonly.'Letnomorebesaidaboutthis.'

'Yes,butstopabit,stopabit,'theoldmanpersisted.'Letusseehowwestand.HaveyoutoldMrArthurthathemustn'tlayoffencesathisfather'sdoor?Thathehasnorighttodoit?Thathehasnogroundtogoupon?'

'Itellhimsonow.'

'Ah!Exactly,'saidtheoldman. 'Youtellhimsonow.Youhadn'ttoldhimsobefore, and you tell him so now. Ay, ay! That's right! You know I stoodbetween you and his father so long, that it seems as if death hadmade nodifference,andIwasstillstandingbetweenyou.SoIwill,andsoinfairnessIrequire tohave thatplainlyput forward.Arthur,youplease tohear thatyouhavenorighttomistrustyourfather,andhavenogroundtogoupon.'

Heputhishandsto thebackof thewheeledchair,andmutteringtohimself,slowlywheeledhismistressbacktohercabinet. 'Now,'heresumed,standingbehindher:'incaseIshouldgoawayleavingthingshalfdone,andsoshouldbewanted againwhen you come to the other half and get into one of yourflights,hasArthurtoldyouwhathemeanstodoaboutthebusiness?'

'Hehasrelinquishedit.'

'Infavourofnobody,Isuppose?'

MrsClennamglancedatherson,leaningagainstoneofthewindows.

Heobservedthelookandsaid, 'Tomymother,ofcourse.Shedoeswhatshepleases.'

'Andifanypleasure,'shesaidafterashortpause,'couldariseformeoutofthedisappointmentofmyexpectationsthatmyson,intheprimeofhislife,wouldinfusenewyouthandstrengthintoit,andmakeitofgreatprofitandpower,itwould be in advancing an old and faithful servant. Jeremiah, the captaindesertstheship,butyouandIwillsinkorfloatwithit.'

Jeremiah,whoseeyesglistenedasiftheysawmoney,dartedasuddenlookattheson,whichseemedtosay,'IoweYOUnothanksforthis;YOUhavedonenothing towards it!' and then told the mother that he thanked her, and thatAfferythankedher,andthathewouldneverdeserther,andthatAfferywouldnever desert her. Finally, he hauled up hiswatch from its depths, and said,'Eleven. Time for your oysters!' and with that change of subject, which

involvednochangeofexpressionormanner,rangthebell.

ButMrsClennam,resolvedtotreatherselfwiththegreaterrigourforhavingbeensupposed tobeunacquaintedwithreparation, refused toeatheroysterswhentheywerebrought.Theylookedtempting;eightinnumber,circularlysetoutonawhiteplateonatraycoveredwithawhitenapkin,flankedbyasliceofbutteredFrenchroll,andalittlecompactglassofcoolwineandwater;butshe resisted all persuasions, and sent themdownagainplacing the act tohercredit,nodoubt,inherEternalDayBook.

ThisrefectionofoysterswasnotpresidedoverbyAffery,butbythegirlwhohad appeared when the bell was rung; the same who had been in thedimlylighted room last night. Now that he had an opportunity of observingher,Arthur found thatherdiminutive figure, small features, and slight sparedress, gave her the appearance of being much younger than she was. Awoman,probablyofnotlessthantwoandtwenty,shemighthavebeenpassedin the street for little more than half that age. Not that her face was veryyouthful,forintruththerewasmoreconsiderationandcareinitthannaturallybelongedtoherutmostyears;butshewassolittleandlight,sonoiselessandshy, and appeared so conscious of being out of place among the three hardelders,thatshehadallthemannerandmuchoftheappearanceofasubduedchild.

Inahardway,andinanuncertainwaythatfluctuatedbetweenpatronageandputtingdown,thesprinklingfromawateringpotandhydraulicpressure,MrsClennam showed an interest in this dependent. Even in themoment of herentrance,upontheviolentringingofthebell,whenthemothershieldedherselfwith that singular action from the son, Mrs Clennam's eyes had had someindividual recognition in them,which seemed reserved for her.As there aredegreesofhardnessinthehardestmetal,andshadesofcolourinblackitself,so,even in theasperityofMrsClennam'sdemeanour towardsall the restofhumanityandtowardsLittleDorrit,therewasafinegradation.

Little Dorrit let herself out to do needlework. At so much a dayor at solittlefromeighttoeight,LittleDorritwastobehired.Punctualtothemoment,LittleDorritappeared;punctual to themoment,LittleDorritvanished.WhatbecameofLittleDorritbetweenthetwoeightswasamystery.

Another of themoral phenomena ofLittleDorrit.Besides her considerationmoney, her daily contract included meals. She had an extraordinaryrepugnance to dining in company;wouldnever do so, if itwere possible toescape.Wouldalwayspleadthatshehadthisbitofworktobeginfirst,orthatbitofworktofinishfirst;andwould,ofacertainty,schemeandplannotverycunningly,itwouldseem,forshedeceivednoonetodinealone.Successfulin

this,happyincarryingoffherplateanywhere,tomakeatableofherlap,orabox, or the ground, or even as was supposed, to stand on tiptoe, diningmoderatelyatamantelshelf;thegreatanxietyofLittleDorrit'sdaywassetatrest.

ItwasnoteasytomakeoutLittleDorrit'sface;shewassoretiring,pliedherneedleinsuchremovedcorners,andstartedawaysoscaredifencounteredonthe stairs. But it seemed to be a pale transparent face, quick in expression,thoughnotbeautifulinfeature,itssofthazeleyesexcepted.Adelicatelybenthead,atinyform,aquicklittlepairofbusyhands,andashabbydressitmustneedshavebeenveryshabbytolookatallso,beingsoneatwereLittleDorritasshesatatwork.

For theseparticulars or generalities concerningLittleDorrit,MrArthurwasindebtedinthecourseofthedaytohisowneyesandtoMrsAffery'stongue.IfMrsAffery had had anywill orwayof her own, itwould probably havebeenunfavourabletoLittleDorrit.Butas'themtwocleverones'MrsAffery'sperpetualreference,inwhomherpersonalitywasswallowedupwereagreedtoacceptLittleDorritasamatterofcourse,shehadnothingforitbuttofollowsuit. Similarly, if the two clever ones had agreed tomurderLittleDorrit bycandlelight,Mrs Affery, being required to hold the candle, would no doubthavedoneit.

Intheintervalsofroastingthepartridgefortheinvalidchamber,andpreparinga bakingdish of beef andpudding for the diningroom,MrsAfferymade thecommunications above set forth; invariably putting her head in at the dooragainaftershehadtakenitout,toenforceresistancetothetwocleverones.ItappearedtohavebecomeaperfectpassionwithMrsFlintwinch,thattheonlysonshouldbepittedagainstthem.

Inthecourseoftheday,too,Arthurlookedthroughthewholehouse.Dullanddarkhefoundit.Thegauntrooms,desertedforyearsuponyears,seemedtohave settled down into a gloomy lethargy from which nothing could rousethemagain.Thefurniture,atoncespareandlumbering,hidintheroomsratherthanfurnishedthem,andtherewasnocolourinallthehouse;suchcolourashad ever been there, had long ago started away on lost sunbeamsgot itselfabsorbed,perhaps,intoflowers,butterflies,plumageofbirds,preciousstones,whatnot.Therewasnotonestraightfloorfromthefoundationtotheroof;theceilings were so fantastically clouded by smoke and dust, that old womenmight have told fortunes in them better than in grouts of tea; the deadcoldhearthsshowednotracesofhavingeverbeenwarmedbutinheapsofsootthathadtumbleddownthechimneys,andeddiedaboutinlittleduskywhirlwindswhen the doorswere opened. Inwhat had once been a drawingroom, therewere a pair of meagre mirrors, with dismal processions of black figures

carryingblackgarlands,walkingroundtheframes;buteventhesewereshortofheadsandlegs,andoneundertakerlikeCupidhadswungroundonitsownaxis and got upside down, and another had fallen off altogether. The roomArthurClennam'sdeceased fatherhadoccupied forbusinesspurposes,whenhefirstrememberedhim,wassounalteredthathemighthavebeenimaginedstill tokeepit invisibly,ashisvisiblerelictkeptherroomupstairs;JeremiahFlintwinchstillgoingbetweenthemnegotiating.Hispicture,darkandgloomy,earnestlyspeechlesson thewall,with theeyes intently lookingathissonastheyhadlookedwhenlifedepartedfromthem,seemedtourgehimawfullytothetaskhehadattempted;butastoanyyieldingonthepartofhismother,hehadnownohope,andastoanyothermeansofsettinghisdistrustatrest,hehadabandonedhopealongtime.

Down in the cellars, as up in the bedchambers, old objects that he wellrememberedwerechangedbyageanddecay,butwerestillintheiroldplaces;eventoemptybeercaskshoarywithcobwebs,andemptywinebottleswithfurand fungus choking up their throats. There, too, among unusual bottleracksandpaleslantsoflightfromtheyardabove,wasthestrongroomstoredwitholdledgers,whichhadasmustyandcorruptasmellasiftheywereregularlybalanced, in the dead small hours, by a nightly resurrection of oldbookkeepers.

Thebakingdishwasservedupinapenitentialmanneronashrunkenclothatanendofthediningtable,attwoo'clock,whenhedinedwithMrFlintwinch,thenewpartner.MrFlintwinch informedhim thathismotherhad recoveredherequanimitynow,andthatheneednotfearheragainalludingtowhathadpassed in themorning. 'Anddon'tyou layoffencesatyour father'sdoor,MrArthur,'addedJeremiah,'onceforall,don'tdoit!Now,wehavedonewiththesubject.'

Mr Flintwinch had been already rearranging and dusting his own particularlittleoffice,asiftodohonourtohisaccessiontonewdignity.Heresumedthisoccupationwhenhewasrepletewithbeef,hadsuckedupallthegravyinthebakingdishwith the flat of his knife, andhaddrawn liberally on a barrel ofsmall beer in the scullery.Thus refreshed, he tuckeduphis shirtsleeves andwent toworkagain;andMrArthur,watchinghimashesetabout it,plainlysawthathisfather'spicture,orhisfather'sgrave,wouldbeascommunicativewithhimasthisoldman.

'Now,Affery,woman,'saidMrFlintwinch,asshecrossedthehall.'Youhadn'tmadeMrArthur'sbedwhenIwasuptherelast.Stiryourself.Bustle.'

ButMrArthurfoundthehousesoblankanddreary,andwassounwillingtoassist at another implacable consignment of his mother's enemies (perhaps

himself among them) to mortal disfigurement and immortal ruin, that heannouncedhis intention of lodging at the coffeehousewhere he had left hisluggage.MrFlintwinchtakingkindlytotheideaofgettingridofhim,andhismotherbeing indifferent, beyondconsiderationsof saving, tomost domesticarrangements that were not bounded by the walls of her own chamber, heeasily carried this point without new offence. Daily business hours wereagreed upon, which his mother, Mr Flintwinch, and he, were to devotetogethertoanecessarycheckingofbooksandpapers;andheleftthehomehehadsolatelyfound,withdepressedheart.

ButLittleDorrit?

Thebusinesshours, allowing for intervalsof invalid regimenofoysters andpartridges,duringwhichClennamrefreshedhimselfwithawalk,were fromtentosixforaboutafortnight.SometimesLittleDorritwasemployedatherneedle, sometimesnot, sometimesappearedasahumblevisitor:whichmusthavebeenhercharacteron theoccasionofhisarrival.Hisoriginalcuriosityaugmented every day, as he watched for her, saw or did not see her, andspeculatedabouther.Influencedbyhispredominant idea,heevenfell intoahabit of discussing with himself the possibility of her being in some wayassociatedwithit.AtlastheresolvedtowatchLittleDorritandknowmoreofherstory.

CHAPTER6.

TheFatheroftheMarshalsea

Thirtyyearsagotherestood,afewdoorsshortofthechurchofSaintGeorge,intheboroughofSouthwark,onthelefthandsideofthewaygoingsouthward,theMarshalseaPrison.Ithadstoodtheremanyyearsbefore,anditremainedthere some years afterwards; but it is gone now, and theworld is none theworsewithoutit.

It was an oblong pile of barrack building, partitioned into squalid housesstanding back to back, so that there were no back rooms; environed by anarrowpavedyard,hemmedinbyhighwallsdulyspikedattop.Itselfacloseandconfinedprisonfordebtors,itcontainedwithinitamuchcloserandmoreconfinedjailforsmugglers.Offendersagainsttherevenuelaws,anddefaulterstoexciseorcustomswhohad incurredfineswhich theywereunable topay,were supposed to be incarcerated behind an ironplated door closing up a

secondprison,consistingofastrongcellortwo,andablindalleysomeyardandahalfwide,whichformedthemysteriousterminationoftheverylimitedskittlegroundinwhichtheMarshalseadebtorsbowleddowntheirtroubles.

Supposed tobe incarcerated there,because the timehadratheroutgrownthestrongcellsandtheblindalley.Inpracticetheyhadcometobeconsideredalittletoobad,thoughintheorytheywerequiteasgoodasever;whichmaybeobserved tobe thecaseat thepresentdaywithothercells thatarenotatallstrong, andwith other blind alleys that are stoneblind.Hence the smugglershabitually consortedwith the debtors (who received themwith open arms),except at certain constitutional moments when somebody came from someOffice, togo throughsomeformofoverlookingsomethingwhichneitherhenoranybodyelseknewanythingabout.On these trulyBritishoccasions, thesmugglers,ifany,madeafeintofwalkingintothestrongcellsandtheblindalley,whilethissomebodypretendedtodohissomething:andmadearealityof walking out again as soon as he hadn't done itneatly epitomising theadministrationofmostofthepublicaffairsinourrightlittle,tightlittle,island.

TherehadbeentakentotheMarshalseaPrison,longbeforethedaywhenthesun shone onMarseilles and on the opening of this narrative, a debtorwithwhomthisnarrativehassomeconcern.

Hewas,atthattime,averyamiableandveryhelplessmiddleagedgentleman,whowasgoingoutagaindirectly.Necessarily,hewasgoingoutagaindirectly,because theMarshalsea lock never turned upon a debtor who was not. Hebroughtinaportmanteauwithhim,whichhedoubteditsbeingworthwhiletounpack;hewassoperfectlyclearlikeall therestof them, the turnkeyonthelocksaidthathewasgoingoutagaindirectly.

Hewasashy,retiringman;welllooking,thoughinaneffeminatestyle;withamild voice, curling hair, and irresolute handsrings upon the fingers in thosedayswhichnervouslywanderedtohistremblinglipahundredtimesinthefirsthalfhourofhisacquaintancewiththejail.Hisprincipalanxietywasabouthiswife.

'Doyouthink,sir,'heaskedtheturnkey,'thatshewillbeverymuchshocked,ifsheshouldcometothegatetomorrowmorning?'

Theturnkeygaveitas theresultofhisexperiencethatsomeof 'emwasandsomeof'emwasn't.Ingeneral,morenothanyes.'Whatlikeisshe,yousee?'hephilosophicallyasked:'that'swhatithingeson.'

'Sheisverydelicateandinexperiencedindeed.'

'That,'saidtheturnkey,'isagenher.'

'She is so little used togoout alone,' said thedebtor, 'that I amat a loss tothinkhowshewillevermakeherwayhere,ifshewalks.'

'P'raps,'quoththeturnkey,'she'lltakeaackneycoach.'

'Perhaps.'Theirresolutefingerswenttothetremblinglip.'Ihopeshewill.Shemaynotthinkofit.'

'Orp'raps,' said the turnkey,offeringhis suggestions from the the topofhiswellwornwoodenstool,ashemighthaveoffered them toachild forwhoseweaknesshe feltacompassion, 'p'rapsshe'llgetherbrother,orher sister, tocomealongwithher.'

'Shehasnobrotherorsister.'

'Niece,nevy,cousin,serwant,young'ooman,greengrocer.Dashit!

Oneoranotheron'em,'saidtheturnkey,repudiatingbeforehandtherefusalofallhissuggestions.

'IfearIhopeitisnotagainsttherulesthatshewillbringthechildren.'

'Thechildren?' said the turnkey. 'And the rules?Why, lord setyouup likeacorner pin, we've a reg'lar playground o' children here. Children! Why weswarmwith'em.Howmanyayougot?'

'Two,' said thedebtor, liftinghis irresolutehand tohis lipagain,and turningintotheprison.

The turnkey followed himwith his eyes. 'And you another,' he observed tohimself, 'whichmakesthreeonyou.Andyourwifeanother,I'll layacrown.Whichmakesfouronyou.Andanothercoming,I'lllayhalfacrown.Which'llmakefiveonyou.AndI'llgoanothersevenandsixpencetonamewhichisthehelplessest,theunbornbabyoryou!'

Hewasrightinallhisparticulars.Shecamenextdaywithalittleboyofthreeyearsold,andalittlegirloftwo,andhestoodentirelycorroborated.

'Gotaroomnow;haven'tyou?' the turnkeyasked thedebtorafteraweekortwo.

'Yes,Ihavegotaverygoodroom.'

'Anylittlesticksacomingtofurnishit?'saidtheturnkey.

'Iexpectafewnecessaryarticlesoffurnituretobedeliveredbythecarrier,thisafternoon.'

'Missisandlittle'unsacomingtokeepyoucompany?'askedtheturnkey.

'Why,yes,we think itbetter thatweshouldnotbescattered,evenfora fewweeks.'

'Evenforafewweeks,OFcourse,'repliedtheturnkey.Andhefollowedhimagainwithhiseyes,andnoddedhisheadseventimeswhenhewasgone.

Theaffairsofthisdebtorwereperplexedbyapartnership,ofwhichheknewnomorethanthathehadinvestedmoneyinit;bylegalmattersofassignmentandsettlement,conveyancehereandconveyancethere,suspicionofunlawfulpreferenceof creditors in thisdirection, andofmysterious spiritingawayofproperty in that; and as nobody on the face of the earth could be moreincapable of explaining any single item in the heap of confusion than thedebtor himself, nothing comprehensible could be made of his case. Toquestionhimindetail,andendeavourtoreconcilehisanswers;toclosethimwith accountants and sharp practitioners, learned in thewiles of insolvencyand bankruptcy; was only to put the case out at compound interest andincomprehensibility. The irresolute fingers fluttered more and moreineffectuallyaboutthetremblingliponeverysuchoccasion,andthesharpestpractitionersgavehimupasahopelessjob.

'Out?'saidtheturnkey,'he'llnevergetout,unlesshiscreditorstakehimbytheshouldersandshovehimout.'

Hehadbeentherefiveorsixmonths,whenhecamerunningtothis turnkeyoneforenoontotellhim,breathlessandpale,thathiswifewasill.

'Asanybodymightaknownshewouldbe,'saidtheturnkey.

'We intended,' he returned, 'that she should go to a country lodging onlytomorrow.WhatamItodo!Oh,goodheaven,whatamItodo!'

'Don't waste your time in clasping your hands and biting your fingers,'respondedthepracticalturnkey,takinghimbytheelbow,'butcomealongwithme.'

Theturnkeyconductedhimtremblingfromheadtofoot,andconstantlycryingunderhisbreath,Whatwashetodo!whilehisirresolutefingersbedabbledthetearsuponhisfaceuponeofthecommonstaircasesintheprisontoadooronthegarretstory.Uponwhichdoortheturnkeyknockedwiththehandleofhiskey.

'Comein!'criedavoiceinside.

Theturnkey,openingthedoor,disclosedinawretched,illsmellinglittleroom,

two hoarse, puffy, redfaced personages seated at a rickety table, playing atallfours,smokingpipes,anddrinkingbrandy.'Doctor,'saidtheturnkey,'here'sagentleman'swifeinwantofyouwithoutaminute'slossoftime!'

The doctor's friend was in the positive degree of hoarseness, puffiness,redfacedness, allfours, tobacco, dirt, and brandy; the doctor in thecomparativehoarser,puffier,moreredfaced,moreallfourey,tobaccoer,dirtier,and brandier. The doctor was amazingly shabby, in a torn and darnedroughweatherseajacket,outatelbowsandeminentlyshortofbuttons(hehadbeen in his time the experienced surgeon carried by a passenger ship), thedirtiest white trousers conceivable by mortal man, carpet slippers, and novisible linen. 'Childbed?' said the doctor. 'I'm the boy!'With that the doctortookacombfromthechimneypieceandstuckhishairuprightwhichappearedto be his way of washing himselfproduced a professional chest or case, ofmostabjectappearance,fromthecupboardwherehiscupandsaucerandcoalswere, settled his chin in the frowsywrapper round his neck, and became aghastlymedicalscarecrow.

Thedoctorandthedebtorrandownstairs,leavingtheturnkeytoreturntothelock,andmadeforthedebtor'sroom.Alltheladiesintheprisonhadgotholdofthenews,andwereintheyard.Someofthemhadalreadytakenpossessionof the two children, and were hospitably carrying them off; others wereoffering loans of little comforts from their own scanty store; others weresympathising with the greatest volubility. The gentlemen prisoners, feelingthemselvesatadisadvantage,hadforthemostpartretired,nottosaysneaked,to their rooms; from the open windows of which some of them nowcomplimentedthedoctorwithwhistlesashepassedbelow,whileothers,withseveral stories between them, interchanged sarcastic references to theprevalentexcitement.

Itwasahotsummerday,andtheprisonroomswerebakingbetweenthehighwalls. In the debtor's confined chamber, Mrs Bangham, charwoman andmessenger,whowasnotaprisoner (thoughshehadbeenonce),butwas thepopularmediumofcommunicationwiththeouterworld,hadvolunteeredherservices as flycatcher and general attendant. The walls and ceiling wereblackenedwith flies.MrsBangham,expert in suddendevice,withonehandfannedthepatientwithacabbageleaf,andwiththeothersettrapsofvinegarand sugar in gallipots; at the same time enunciating sentiments of anencouragingandcongratulatorynature,adaptedtotheoccasion.

'The flies trouble you, don't they,my dear?' saidMrsBangham. 'But p'rapsthey'll takeyourmindoff of it, anddoyougood.What between theburyinground,thegrocer's,thewaggonstables,andthepaunchtrade,theMarshalseafliesgetsverylarge.P'rapsthey'resentasaconsolation,ifweonlyknow'dit.

Howareyounow,mydear?Nobetter?No,mydear, itain't tobeexpected;you'llbeworsebeforeyou'rebetter,andyouknowit,don'tyou?Yes.That'sright!And to thinkofa sweet littlecherubbeingborn inside the lock!Nowain'titpretty,ain'tTHATsomethingtocarryyouthroughitpleasant?Why,weain'thadsuchathinghappenhere,mydear,notforIcouldn'tnamethetimewhen.Andyouacryingtoo?'saidMrsBangham,torallythepatientmoreandmore. 'You! Making yourself so famous! With the flies a falling into thegallipotsbyfifties!Andeverythingagoingonsowell!Andhereifthereain't,'said Mrs Bangham as the door opened, 'if there ain't your dear gentlemanalongwithDrHaggage!AndnowindeedweAREcomplete,ITHINK!'

Thedoctorwasscarcelythekindofapparitiontoinspireapatientwithasenseofabsolutecompleteness,butashepresentlydeliveredtheopinion,'Weareasrightaswecanbe,MrsBangham,andweshallcomeoutofthislikeahouseafire;'andasheandMrsBanghamtookpossessionofthepoorhelplesspair,aseverybodyelseandanybodyelsehadalwaysdone,themeansathandwereas good on thewhole as betterwould have been. The special feature inDrHaggage'streatmentofthecase,washisdeterminationtokeepMrsBanghamuptothemark.Asthus:

'MrsBangham,'saidthedoctor,beforehehadbeentheretwentyminutes,'gooutsideandfetchalittlebrandy,orweshallhaveyougivingin.'

'Thankyou,sir.Butnoneonmyaccounts,'saidMrsBangham.

'MrsBangham,' returned thedoctor, 'I am inprofessional attendanceon thislady,anddon't choose toallowanydiscussiononyourpart.Gooutsideandfetchalittlebrandy,orIforeseethatyou'llbreakdown.'

'You're tobeobeyed,sir,' saidMrsBangham, rising. 'Ifyouwas toputyourownlipstoit,Ithinkyouwouldn'tbetheworse,foryoulookbutpoorly,sir.'

'MrsBangham,' returned thedoctor, 'I amnot your business, thankyou, butyouaremine.NeveryoumindME,ifyouplease.Whatyouhavegottodo,is,todoasyouaretold,andtogoandgetwhatIbidyou.'

MrsBanghamsubmitted;andthedoctor,havingadministeredherpotion,tookhis own.He repeated the treatment every hour, being very determinedwithMrs Bangham. Three or four hours passed; the flies fell into the traps byhundreds; and at length one little life, hardly stronger than theirs, appearedamongthemultitudeoflesserdeaths.

'Averynicelittlegirl indeed,'saidthedoctor; 'little,butwellformed.Halloa,Mrs Bangham! You're looking queer! You be off, ma'am, this minute, andfetchalittlemorebrandy,orweshallhaveyouinhysterics.'

Bythistime,theringshadbeguntofallfromthedebtor'sirresolutehands,likeleavesfromawintrytree.Notonewasleftuponthemthatnight,whenheputsomething that chinked into the doctor's greasy palm. In themeantimeMrsBangham had been out on an errand to a neighbouring establishmentdecoratedwiththreegoldenballs,whereshewasverywellknown.

'Thankyou,' said thedoctor, 'thankyou.Yourgood lady is quite composed.Doingcharmingly.'

'Iamveryhappyandverythankfultoknowit,'saidthedebtor,'thoughIlittlethoughtonce,that'

'Thatachildwouldbeborntoyouinaplacelikethis?'saidthedoctor.'Bah,bah,sir,whatdoesitsignify?Alittlemoreelbowroomisallwewanthere.Wearequiethere;wedon'tgetbadgeredhere;there'snoknockerhere,sir, tobehammered at by creditors and bring a man's heart into his mouth. Nobodycomesheretoaskifaman'sathome,andtosayhe'llstandonthedoormattillhe is. Nobody writes threatening letters about money to this place. It'sfreedom,sir,it'sfreedom!Ihavehadtoday'spracticeathomeandabroad,onamarch, and aboard ship, and I'll tell you this: I don't know that I have everpursueditundersuchquietcircumstancesasherethisday.Elsewhere,peopleare restless, worried, hurried about, anxious respecting one thing, anxiousrespecting another. Nothing of the kind here, sir. We have done all thatweknowtheworstofit;wehavegottothebottom,wecan'tfall,andwhathavewefound?Peace.That'sthewordforit.Peace.'Withthisprofessionoffaith,thedoctor,whowasanoldjailbird,andwasmoresoddenthanusual,andhadthe additional and unusual stimulus ofmoney in his pocket, returned to hisassociate andchum inhoarseness, puffiness, redfacedness, allfours, tobacco,dirt,andbrandy.

Now,thedebtorwasaverydifferentmanfromthedoctor,buthehadalreadybegun to travel, by his opposite segment of the circle, to the same point.Crushedatfirstbyhisimprisonment,hehadsoonfoundadullreliefinit.Hewasunderlockandkey;butthelockandkeythatkepthimin,keptnumbersofhistroublesout.Ifhehadbeenamanwithstrengthofpurposetofacethosetroublesandfightthem,hemighthavebrokenthenetthatheldhim,orbrokenhis heart; but being what he was, he languidly slipped into this smoothdescent,andnevermoretookonestepupward.

Whenhewasrelievedoftheperplexedaffairsthatnothingwouldmakeplain,throughhavingthemreturneduponhishandsbyadozenagentsinsuccessionwhocouldmakeneitherbeginning,middle,norendofthemorhim,hefoundhismiserableplaceofrefugeaquieterrefugethanithadbeenbefore.Hehadunpacked the portmanteau long ago; and his elder children now played

regularlyabouttheyard,andeverybodyknewthebaby,andclaimedakindofproprietorshipinher.

'Why,I'mgettingproudofyou,'saidhisfriendtheturnkey,oneday.'You'llbethe oldest inhabitant soon. TheMarshalseawouldn't be like theMarshalseanow,withoutyouandyourfamily.'

The turnkey really was proud of him. He would mention him in laudatorytermstonewcomers,whenhisbackwasturned. 'Youtooknoticeofhim,'hewouldsay,'thatwentoutofthelodgejustnow?'

NewcomerwouldprobablyanswerYes.

'Broughtupasagentleman,hewas,ifeveramanwas.Ed'catedatnoendofexpense. Went into the Marshal's house once to try a new piano for him.Played it, I understand, like one o'clockbeautiful! As to languagesspeaksanything.We've had a Frenchman here in his time, and it's my opinion heknowedmoreFrenchthantheFrenchmandid.We'vehadanItalianhereinhistime,andheshuthimupinabouthalfaminute.You'll findsomecharactersbehindother locks, Idon't sayyouwon't;but ifyouwant the topsawyer insuchrespectsasI'vementioned,youmustcometotheMarshalsea.'

When his youngest childwas eight years old, hiswife,who had long beenlanguishing awayof her own inherent weakness, not that she retained anygreatersensitivenessastoherplaceofabodethanhedidwentuponavisittoapoorfriendandoldnurseinthecountry,anddiedthere.Heremainedshutupinhisroomforafortnightafterwards;andanattorney'sclerk,whowasgoingthrough the Insolvent Court, engrossed an address of condolence to him,whichlookedlikeaLease,andwhichalltheprisonerssigned.

Whenheappearedagainhewasgreyer(hehadsoonbeguntoturngrey);andthe turnkeynoticed that his handswentoften tohis trembling lips again, astheyhadusedtodowhenhefirstcamein.

But he got pretty well over it in amonth or two; and in themeantime thechildrenplayedabouttheyardasregularlyasever,butinblack.

ThenMrsBangham, longpopularmediumofcommunicationwith theouterworld, began to be infirm, and to be found oftener than usual comatose onpavements,withher basket of purchases spilt, and the changeof her clientsninepence short. His son began to supersedeMrsBangham, and to executecommissions inaknowingmanner,and tobeof theprisonprisonous,of thestreetsstreety.

Timewenton,and the turnkeybegan to fail.Hischestswelled,andhis legs

gotweak,andhewasshortofbreath.Thewellwornwoodenstoolwas'beyondhim,' he complained. He sat in an armchair with a cushion, and sometimeswheezedso,forminutestogether,thathecouldn'tturnthekey.Whenhewasoverpowered by these fits, the debtor often turned it for him. 'You andme,'saidtheturnkey,onesnowywinter'snightwhenthelodge,withabrightfireinit,wasprettyfullofcompany, 'is theoldest inhabitants. Iwasn'theremyselfabovesevenyearbeforeyou.Ishan'tlastlong.WhenI'moffthelockforgoodandall,you'llbetheFatheroftheMarshalsea.'

The turnkey went off the lock of this world next day. His words wereremembered and repeated; and tradition afterwards handed down fromgenerationtogenerationaMarshalseagenerationmightbecalculatedasaboutthreemonthsthat the shabby old debtorwith the softmanner and thewhitehair,wastheFatheroftheMarshalsea.

Andhegrewtobeproudofthetitle.Ifanyimpostorhadarisentoclaimit,hewould have shed tears in resentment of the attempt to deprive him of hisrights.Adispositionbegantobeperceivedinhimtoexaggeratethenumberofyearshehadbeen there; itwasgenerallyunderstood thatyoumustdeductafewfromhisaccount;hewasvain,thefleetinggenerationsofdebtorssaid.

Allnewcomerswerepresentedtohim.Hewaspunctiliousintheexactionofthis ceremony. The wits would perform the office of introduction withoverchargedpompandpoliteness,buttheycouldnoteasilyoverstephissenseofitsgravity.Hereceivedtheminhispoorroom(hedislikedanintroductionin themere yard, as informala thing thatmight happen to anybody),with akindofboweddownbeneficence.Theywerewelcome to theMarshalsea, hewould tell them.Yes,hewas theFatherof theplace.So theworldwaskindenoughtocallhim;andsohewas,ifmorethantwentyyearsofresidencegavehim a claim to the title. It looked small at first, but there was very goodcompanythereamongamixturenecessarilyamixtureandverygoodair.

It becameanotunusual circumstance for letters tobeputunderhisdoor atnight, enclosinghalfacrown, twohalfcrowns,nowand thenat long intervalsevenhalfasovereign,fortheFatheroftheMarshalsea. 'Withthecomplimentsofacollegiantakingleave.'Hereceivedthegiftsastributes,fromadmirers,toapubliccharacter.Sometimesthesecorrespondentsassumedfacetiousnames,astheBrick,Bellows,OldGooseberry,Wideawake,Snooks,Mops,Cutaway,theDogsmeatMan;butheconsideredthisinbadtaste,andwasalwaysalittlehurtbyit.

Inthefulnessoftime,thiscorrespondenceshowingsignsofwearingout,andseemingtorequireaneffortonthepartofthecorrespondentstowhichinthehurried circumstances of departure many of them might not be equal, he

established the custom of attending collegians of a certain standing, to thegate, and taking leave of them there. The collegian under treatment, aftershakinghands,wouldoccasionallystoptowrapupsomethinginabitofpaper,andwouldcomebackagaincalling'Hi!'

Hewouldlookroundsurprised.'Me?'hewouldsay,withasmile.Bythistimethecollegianwouldbeupwithhim,andhewouldpaternallyadd,'Whathaveyouforgotten?WhatcanIdoforyou?'

'Iforgottoleavethis,'thecollegianwouldusuallyreturn,'fortheFatheroftheMarshalsea.'

'Mygoodsir,'hewouldrejoin,'heisinfinitelyobligedtoyou.'But,tothelast,the irresolute hand of old would remain in the pocket into which he hadslippedthemoneyduringtwoorthreeturnsabouttheyard,lestthetransactionshouldbetooconspicuoustothegeneralbodyofcollegians.

One afternoon he had been doing the honours of the place to a rather largepartyofcollegians,whohappened tobegoingout,when,ashewascomingback,heencounteredonefromthepoorsidewhohadbeentakeninexecutionforasmallsumaweekbefore,had'settled'inthecourseofthatafternoon,andwasgoingouttoo.ThemanwasamerePlastererinhisworkingdress;hadhiswifewithhim,andabundle;andwasinhighspirits.

'Godblessyou,sir,'hesaidinpassing.

'Andyou,'benignantlyreturnedtheFatheroftheMarshalsea.

They were pretty far divided, going their several ways, when the Plasterercalledout,'Isay!sir!'andcamebacktohim.

'Itain'tmuch,'saidthePlasterer,puttingalittlepileofhalfpenceinhishand,'butit'swellmeant.'

TheFatheroftheMarshalseahadneverbeenofferedtributeincopperyet.Hischildren often had, and with his perfect acquiescence it had gone into thecommonpursetobuymeatthathehadeaten,anddrinkthathehaddrunk;butfustiansplashedwithwhitelime,bestowinghalfpenceonhim,fronttofront,wasnew.

'Howdareyou!'hesaidtotheman,andfeeblyburstintotears.

ThePlastererturnedhimtowardsthewall,thathisfacemightnotbeseen;andtheactionwassodelicate,andthemanwassopenetratedwithrepentance,andasked pardon so honestly, that he couldmake him no less acknowledgmentthan,'Iknowyoumeantitkindly.Saynomore.'

'Blessyoursoul,sir,'urgedthePlasterer,'Ididindeed.I'ddomorebyyouthantherestof'emdo,Ifancy.'

'Whatwouldyoudo?'heasked.

'I'dcomebacktoseeyou,afterIwasletout.'

'Givemethemoneyagain,'saidtheother,eagerly,'andI'llkeepit,andneverspendit.Thankyouforit,thankyou!Ishallseeyouagain?''IfIliveaweekyoushall.'

Theyshookhandsandparted.Thecollegians,assembledinSymposiumintheSnuggerythatnight,marvelledwhathadhappenedtotheirFather;hewalkedsolateintheshadowsoftheyard,andseemedsodowncast.

CHAPTER7.

TheChildoftheMarshalsea

ThebabywhosefirstdraughtofairhadbeentincturedwithDoctorHaggage'sbrandy, was handed down among the generations of collegians, like thetraditionoftheircommonparent.Intheearlierstagesofherexistence,shewashanded down in a literal and prosaic sense; it being almost a part of theentrancefootingofeverynewcollegiantonursethechildwhohadbeenborninthecollege.

'Byrights,'remarkedtheturnkeywhenshewasfirstshowntohim,'Ioughttobehergodfather.'

The debtor irresolutely thought of it for a minute, and said, 'Perhaps youwouldn'tobjecttoreallybeinghergodfather?'

'Oh!Idon'tobject,'repliedtheturnkey,'ifyoudon't.'

ThusitcametopassthatshewaschristenedoneSundayafternoon,whentheturnkey,beingrelieved,wasoffthelock;andthattheturnkeywentuptothefontofSaintGeorge'sChurch,andpromisedandvowedandrenouncedonherbehalf,ashehimselfrelatedwhenhecameback,'likeagood'un.'

Thisinvestedtheturnkeywithanewproprietaryshareinthechild,overandabovehis formerofficialone.Whenshebegan towalkand talk,hebecamefond of her; bought a little armchair and stood it by the high fender of the

lodgefireplace;likedtohavehercompanywhenhewasonthelock;andusedtobribeherwithcheaptoystocomeandtalktohim.Thechild,forherpart,soon grew so fond of the turnkey that she would come climbing up thelodgestepsofherownaccordatallhoursoftheday.Whenshefellasleepinthe little armchair by the high fender, the turnkeywould cover herwith hispockethandkerchief; and when she sat in it dressing and undressing a dollwhichsooncametobeunlikedollsontheothersideofthelock,andtobearahorriblefamilyresemblancetoMrsBanghamhewouldcontemplateherfromthe top of his stool with exceeding gentleness.Witnessing these things, thecollegianswouldexpressanopinionthattheturnkey,whowasabachelor,hadbeencutoutbynature fora familyman.But the turnkey thanked them,andsaid,'No,onthewholeitwasenoughtoseeotherpeople'schildrenthere.'Atwhatperiodofherearlylifethelittlecreaturebegantoperceivethatitwasnotthehabitofalltheworldtolivelockedupinnarrowyardssurroundedbyhighwallswithspikesatthetop,wouldbeadifficultquestiontosettle.Butshewasa very, very little creature indeed, when she had somehow gained theknowledgethatherclaspofherfather'shandwastobealwaysloosenedatthedoorwhichthegreatkeyopened;andthatwhileherownlightstepswerefreetopassbeyond it, his feetmustnever cross that line.Apitiful andplaintivelook,withwhich shehadbegun to regardhimwhenshewas still extremelyyoung,wasperhapsapartofthisdiscovery.

Withapitifulandplaintivelookforeverything,indeed,butwithsomethinginitforonlyhimthatwaslikeprotection, thisChildof theMarshalseaandthechild of the Father of theMarshalsea, sat by her friend the turnkey in thelodge, kept the family room,orwandered about theprisonyard, for the firsteightyearsofherlife.Withapitifulandplaintivelookforherwaywardsister;forheridlebrother;forthehighblankwalls;forthefadedcrowdtheyshutin;for thegamesof theprisonchildrenas theywhoopedandran,andplayedathideandseek,andmadetheironbarsoftheinnergateway'Home.'

Wistfulandwondering,shewouldsitinsummerweatherbythehighfenderinthe lodge, lookingupat thesky through thebarredwindow,until,whensheturnedhereyesaway,barsoflightwouldarisebetweenherandherfriend,andshewouldseehimthroughagrating,too.'Thinkingofthefields,'theturnkeysaidonce,afterwatchingher,'ain'tyou?'

'Wherearethey?'sheinquired.

'Why,they'reoverthere,mydear,'saidtheturnkey,withavagueflourishofhiskey.'Justaboutthere.'

'Doesanybodyopenthem,andshutthem?Aretheylocked?'

Theturnkeywasdiscomfited.'Well,'hesaid.'Notingeneral.'

'Aretheyverypretty,Bob?'ShecalledhimBob,byhisownparticularrequestandinstruction.

'Lovely.Fullofflowers.There'sbuttercups,andthere'sdaisies,andthere's'theturnkeyhesitated,beingshortoffloralnomenclature'there'sdandelions,andallmannerofgames.'

'Isitverypleasanttobethere,Bob?'

'Prime,'saidtheturnkey.

'Wasfathereverthere?'

'Hem!'coughedtheturnkey.'Oyes,hewasthere,sometimes.'

'Ishesorrynottobetherenow?'

'Nnotparticular,'saidtheturnkey.

'Noranyofthepeople?'sheasked,glancingatthelistlesscrowdwithin.'Oareyouquitesureandcertain,Bob?'

AtthisdifficultpointoftheconversationBobgavein,andchangedthesubjectto hardbake: always his last resourcewhenhe foundhis little friendgettinghimintoapolitical,social,ortheologicalcorner.ButthiswastheoriginofaseriesofSundayexcursionsthatthesetwocuriouscompanionsmadetogether.Theyusedto issuefromthelodgeonalternateSundayafternoonswithgreatgravity, bound for somemeadows or green lanes that had been elaboratelyappointedbytheturnkeyinthecourseoftheweek;andthereshepickedgrassandflowerstobringhome,whilehesmokedhispipe.Afterwards,therewereteagardens,shrimps,ale,andotherdelicacies;andthentheywouldcomebackhandinhand,unlessshewasmorethanusuallytired,andhadfallenasleeponhisshoulder.

Inthoseearlydays,theturnkeyfirstbeganprofoundlytoconsideraquestionwhichcosthimsomuchmentallabour,thatitremainedundeterminedonthedayofhisdeath.Hedecidedtowillandbequeathhislittlepropertyofsavingstohisgodchild,andthepointarosehowcoulditbeso'tiedup'asthatonlysheshould have the benefit of it?His experience on the lock gave him such anacute perception of the enormous difficulty of 'tying up' money with anyapproach to tightness,andcontrariwiseof the remarkableeasewithwhich itgot loose, that througha seriesofyearshe regularlypropounded thisknottypoint to every new insolvent agent and other professional gentleman whopassedinandout.

'Supposing,' hewould say, stating the casewith his key on the professionalgentleman's waistcoat; 'supposing a man wanted to leave his property to ayoungfemale,andwantedtotieitupsothatnobodyelseshouldeverbeabletomakeagrabatit;howwouldyoutieupthatproperty?'

'Settle it strictly on herself,' the professional gentlemanwould complacentlyanswer.

'But look here,' quoth the turnkey. 'Supposing she had, say a brother, say afather, say a husband,whowould be likely tomake a grab at that propertywhenshecameintoithowaboutthat?'

'Itwouldbesettledonherself,andtheywouldhavenomorelegalclaimonitthanyou,'wouldbetheprofessionalanswer.

'Stopabit,'saidtheturnkey.'Supposingshewastenderhearted,andtheycameoverher.Where'syourlawfortyingitupthen?'

Thedeepestcharacterwhomtheturnkeysounded,wasunabletoproducehislawfortyingsuchaknotasthat.So,theturnkeythoughtaboutitallhislife,anddiedintestateafterall.

Butthatwaslongafterwards,whenhisgoddaughterwaspastsixteen.Thefirsthalfofthatspaceofherlifewasonlyjustaccomplished,whenherpitifulandplaintivelooksawherfatherawidower.Fromthattimetheprotectionthatherwonderingeyeshadexpressedtowardshim,becameembodiedinaction,andthe Child of the Marshalsea took upon herself a new relation towards theFather.

At first, such a baby could do little more than sit with him, deserting herlivelierplacebythehighfender,andquietlywatchinghim.Butthismadeherso far necessary to him that he became accustomed to her, and began to besensibleofmissingherwhenshewasnot there.Through this littlegate, shepassedoutofchildhoodintothecareladenworld.

Whatherpitifullooksaw,atthatearlytime,inherfather,inhersister,inherbrother, in the jail; howmuch,or how little of thewretched truth it pleasedGodtomakevisibletoher;lieshiddenwithmanymysteries.Itisenoughthatshewasinspiredtobesomethingwhichwasnotwhattherestwere,andtobethatsomething,differentandlaborious,forthesakeoftherest.Inspired?Yes.Shallwe speak of the inspiration of a poet or a priest, and not of the heartimpelledbyloveandselfdevotiontothelowliestworkinthelowliestwayoflife!

Withno earthly friend tohelpher, or somuchas to seeher, but theone so

strangely assorted; with no knowledge even of the common daily tone andhabitsofthecommonmembersofthefreecommunitywhoarenotshutupinprisons;bornandbredinasocialcondition,falseevenwithareferencetothefalsest condition outside the walls; drinking from infancy of a well whosewaters had their own peculiar stain, their own unwholesome and unnaturaltaste;theChildoftheMarshalseabeganherwomanlylife.

No matter through what mistakes and discouragements, what ridicule (notunkindlymeant, but deeply felt) of her youth and little figure,what humbleconsciousnessofherownbabyhoodandwantofstrength,eveninthematterof lifting and carrying; through howmuchweariness and hopelessness, andhow many secret tears; she drudged on, until recognised as useful, evenindispensable.Thattimecame.Shetooktheplaceofeldestofthethree,inallthingsbutprecedence;wastheheadofthefallenfamily;andbore,inherownheart,itsanxietiesandshames.

Atthirteen,shecouldreadandkeepaccounts,thatis,couldputdowninwordsandfigureshowmuchthebarenecessariesthat theywantedwouldcost,andhowmuchlesstheyhadtobuythemwith.Shehadbeen,bysnatchesofafewweeksata time, toaneveningschooloutside,andgothersisterandbrothersenttodayschoolsbydesultorystarts,duringthreeorfouryears.Therewasnoinstructionforanyofthemathome;butsheknewwellnoonebetterthatamansobrokenastobetheFatheroftheMarshalsea,couldbenofathertohisownchildren.

To these scanty means of improvement, she added another of her owncontriving.Once,amongtheheterogeneouscrowdofinmatesthereappearedadancingmaster.Her sisterhadagreatdesire to learn thedancingmaster'sart,and seemed to have a taste thatway.At thirteenyears old, theChild of theMarshalsea presented herself to the dancingmaster, with a little bag in herhand,andpreferredherhumblepetition.

'Ifyouplease,Iwasbornhere,sir.'

'Oh!Youaretheyounglady,areyou?'saidthedancingmaster,surveyingthesmallfigureandupliftedface.

'Yes,sir.'

'AndwhatcanIdoforyou?'saidthedancingmaster.

'Nothingforme,sir, thankyou,'anxiouslyundrawing thestringsof the littlebag; 'but if,whileyoustayhere,youcouldbe sokindas to teachmysistercheap'

'Mychild, I'll teachher fornothing,' said thedancingmaster, shuttingup thebag.HewasasgoodnaturedadancingmasteraseverdancedtotheInsolventCourt, and he kept his word. The sister was so apt a pupil, and thedancingmasterhadsuchabundantleisuretobestowuponher(forittookhimamatterof tenweeks toset tohiscreditors, leadoff, turn theCommissioners,and right and leftback tohisprofessionalpursuits), thatwonderfulprogresswasmade. Indeed the dancingmaster was so proud of it, and sowishful todisplayitbeforehelefttoafewselectfriendsamongthecollegians,thatatsixo'clockonacertainfinemorning,aminuetdelacourcameoffintheyardthecollegerooms being of too confined proportions for the purposein which somuch groundwas covered, and the stepswere so conscientiously executed,thatthedancingmaster,havingtoplaythekitbesides,wasthoroughlyblown.

Thesuccessofthisbeginning,whichledtothedancingmaster'scontinuinghisinstruction after his release, emboldened the poor child to try again. Shewatchedandwaitedmonthsforaseamstress.Inthefulnessoftimeamillinercamein,andtohersherepairedonherownbehalf.

'I beg your pardon,ma'am,' she said, looking timidly round the door of themilliner,whomshefoundintearsandinbed:'butIwasbornhere.'

Everybodyseemedtohearofherassoonastheyarrived;forthemillinersatupinbed,dryinghereyes,andsaid,justasthedancingmasterhadsaid:

'Oh!Youarethechild,areyou?'

'Yes,ma'am.'

'IamsorryIhaven'tgotanythingforyou,'saidthemilliner,shakingherhead.

'It'snotthat,ma'am.IfyoupleaseIwanttolearnneedlework.'

'Whyshouldyoudothat,'returnedthemilliner,'withmebeforeyou?Ithasnotdonememuchgood.'

'Nothingwhatever it isseems to have done anybody much good who comeshere,'shereturnedinallsimplicity;'butIwanttolearnjustthesame.'

'Iamafraidyouaresoweak,yousee,'themillinerobjected.

'Idon'tthinkIamweak,ma'am.'

'Andyouaresovery,verylittle,yousee,'themillinerobjected.

'Yes,IamafraidIamverylittleindeed,'returnedtheChildoftheMarshalsea;andsobegantosoboverthatunfortunatedefectofhers,whichcamesooftenin her way. The millinerwho was not morose or hardhearted, only newly

insolventwas touched, took her in hand with goodwill, found her the mostpatientandearnestofpupils,andmadeheracunningworkwomanincourseoftime.

Incourseof time,and in theveryselfsamecourseof time, theFatherof theMarshalseagraduallydevelopedanewflowerofcharacter.ThemoreFatherlyhe grew as to the Marshalsea, and the more dependent he became on thecontributionsofhischangingfamily,thegreaterstandhemadebyhisforlorngentility.Withthesamehandthathepocketedacollegian'shalfcrownhalfanhourago,hewouldwipeawaythetearsthatstreamedoverhischeeksifanyreferenceweremadetohisdaughters'earningtheirbread.So,overandaboveotherdailycares,theChildoftheMarshalseahadalwaysuponherthecareofpreservingthegenteelfictionthattheywereallidlebeggarstogether.

The sister became a dancer. There was a ruined uncle in the familygroupruined by his brother, the Father of the Marshalsea, and knowing nomore how than his ruiner did, but accepting the fact as an inevitablecertaintyon whom her protection devolved. Naturally a retired and simpleman,hehadshownnoparticularsenseofbeingruinedatthetimewhenthatcalamityfelluponhim,furtherthanthatheleftoffwashinghimselfwhentheshockwasannounced,andnevertooktothatluxuryanymore.Hehadbeenaveryindifferentmusicalamateurinhisbetterdays;andwhenhefellwithhisbrother, resorted for support to playing a clarionet as dirty as himself in asmall Theatre Orchestra. It was the theatre in which his niece became adancer;hehadbeenafixturetherealongtimewhenshetookherpoorstationinit;andheacceptedthetaskofservingasherescortandguardian,justashewouldhaveacceptedanillness,alegacy,afeast,starvationanythingbutsoap.

Toenable thisgirl toearnher fewweeklyshillings, itwasnecessaryfor theChildoftheMarshalseatogothroughanelaborateformwiththeFather.

'Fanny isnotgoing to livewithus justnow, father.Shewillbehereagooddealintheday,butsheisgoingtoliveoutsidewithuncle.'

'Yousurpriseme.Why?'

'Ithinkunclewantsacompanion,father.Heshouldbeattendedto,andlookedafter.'

'Acompanion?Hepassesmuchofhistimehere.Andyouattendtohimandlookafterhim,Amy,agreatdealmorethaneveryoursisterwill.Youallgooutsomuch;youallgooutsomuch.'

This was to keep up the ceremony and pretence of his having no idea thatAmyherselfwentoutbythedaytowork.

'Butwe are always glad to comehome, father; now, arewenot?And as toFanny,perhapsbesideskeepingunclecompanyandtakingcareofhim,itmaybeaswell forhernotquite to livehere,always.Shewasnotbornhereas Iwas,youknow,father.'

'Well,Amy,well.Idon'tquitefollowyou,butit'snaturalIsupposethatFannyshouldprefertobeoutside,andeventhatyouoftenshould,too.So,youandFannyandyouruncle,mydear,shallhaveyourownway.Good,good.I'llnotmeddle;don'tmindme.'

Togetherbrotheroutoftheprison;outofthesuccessiontoMrsBanghaminexecuting commissions, andout of the slang interchangewithverydoubtfulcompanionsconsequentuponboth;washerhardesttask.Ateighteenhewouldhavedraggedonfromhandtomouth,fromhourtohour,frompennytopenny,until eighty. Nobody got into the prison from whom he derived anythingusefulorgood, and shecould findnopatron forhimbutherold friendandgodfather.

'DearBob,'saidshe,'whatistobecomeofpoorTip?'HisnamewasEdward,andTedhadbeentransformedintoTip,withinthewalls.

TheturnkeyhadstrongprivateopinionsastowhatwouldbecomeofpoorTip,andhadevengonesofarwiththeviewofavertingtheirfulfilment,astosoundTip in reference to the expediency of running away and going to serve hiscountry. But Tip had thanked him, and said he didn't seem to care for hiscountry.

'Well, my dear,' said the turnkey, 'something ought to be done with him.SupposeItryandgethimintothelaw?'

'Thatwouldbesogoodofyou,Bob!'

Theturnkeyhadnowtwopointstoputtotheprofessionalgentlemenastheypassed in and out.He put this second one so perseveringly that a stool andtwelveshillingsaweekwereatlastfoundforTipintheofficeofanattorneyin a greatNational Palladium called the PalaceCourt; at that time one of aconsiderable listofeverlastingbulwarks to thedignityandsafetyofAlbion,whoseplacesknowthemnomore.

TiplanguishedinClifford'sInnsforsixmonths,andattheexpirationofthatterm sauntered back one evening with his hands in his pockets, andincidentallyobservedtohissisterthathewasnotgoingbackagain.

'Notgoingbackagain?' said thepoor littleanxiousChildof theMarshalsea,alwayscalculatingandplanningforTip,inthefrontrankofhercharges.

'Iamsotiredofit,'saidTip,'thatIhavecutit.'

Tip tired of everything. With intervals of Marshalsea lounging, and MrsBanghamsuccession,hissmallsecondmother,aidedbyhertrustyfriend,gothim intoawarehouse, intoamarketgarden, into thehop trade, into the lawagain, into an auctioneers, into a brewery, into a stockbroker's, into the lawagain, into a coach office, into a waggon office, into the law again, into ageneraldealer's,intoadistillery,intothelawagain,intoawoolhouse,intoadrygoodshouse, into theBillingsgate trade, into the foreign fruit trade, andintothedocks.ButwhateverTipwentinto,hecameoutoftired,announcingthathehadcutit.Whereverhewent,thisforedoomedTipappearedtotaketheprisonwallswithhim,andtosetthemupinsuchtradeorcalling;andtoprowlaboutwithin theirnarrowlimits in theoldslipshod,purposeless,downatheelway;untiltherealimmovableMarshalseawallsassertedtheirfascinationoverhim,andbroughthimback.

Nevertheless, the brave little creature did so fix her heart on her brother'srescue, thatwhilehewasringingout thesedolefulchanges,shepinchedandscrapedenoughtogethertoshiphimforCanada.Whenhewastiredofnothingtodo,anddisposedinitsturntocuteventhat,hegraciouslyconsentedtogotoCanada.Andtherewasgrief inherbosomoverpartingwithhim,andjoyinthehopeofhisbeingputinastraightcourseatlast.

'Godblessyou,dearTip.Don'tbe tooproud tocomeandseeus,whenyouhavemadeyourfortune.'

'Allright!'saidTip,andwent.

ButnotallthewaytoCanada;infact,notfurtherthanLiverpool.

After making the voyage to that port from London, he found himself sostrongly impelled to cut the vessel, that he resolved to walk back again.Carryingoutwhichintention,hepresentedhimselfbeforeherattheexpirationofamonth,inrags,withoutshoes,andmuchmoretiredthanever.Atlength,afteranotherintervalofsuccessorshiptoMrsBangham,hefoundapursuitforhimself,andannouncedit.

'Amy,Ihavegotasituation.'

'Haveyoureallyandtruly,Tip?'

'All right. I shalldonow.Youneedn't lookanxiousaboutmeanymore,oldgirl.'

'Whatisit,Tip?'

'Why,youknowSlingobysight?'

'Notthemantheycallthedealer?'

'That'sthechap.He'llbeoutonMonday,andhe'sgoingtogivemeaberth.'

'Whatisheadealerin,Tip?'

'Horses.Allright!Ishalldonow,Amy.'

Shelostsightofhimformonthsafterwards,andonlyheardfromhimonce.Awhisperpassedamong the elder collegians thathehadbeen seenat amockauctioninMoorfields,pretendingtobuyplatedarticlesformassivesilver,andpayingforthemwiththegreatestliberalityinbanknotes;butitneverreachedherears.Oneeveningshewasaloneatworkstandingupatthewindow,tosavethetwilightlingeringabovethewallwhenheopenedthedoorandwalkedin.

Shekissedandwelcomedhim;butwasafraid to askhimanyquestions.Hesawhowanxiousandtimidshewas,andappearedsorry.

'Iamafraid,Amy,you'llbevexedthistime.UponmylifeIam!'

'Iamverysorrytohearyousayso,Tip.Haveyoucomeback?'

'Whyyes.'

'Notexpecting this time thatwhatyouhad foundwouldanswerverywell, IamlesssurprisedandsorrythanImighthavebeen,Tip.'

'Ah!Butthat'snottheworstofit.'

'Nottheworstofit?'

'Don't looksostartled.No,Amy,not theworstof it. Ihavecomeback,yousee;butDON'TlooksostartledIhavecomebackinwhatImaycallanewway.Iamoffthevolunteerlistaltogether.Iaminnow,asoneoftheregulars.'

'Oh!Don'tsayyouareaprisoner,Tip!Don't,don't!'

'Well, Idon'twant tosay it,'hereturned inareluctant tone; 'but ifyoucan'tunderstandmewithoutmysayingit,whatamItodo?Iaminforfortypoundodd.'

Forthefirsttimeinallthoseyears,shesunkunderhercares.Shecried,withherclaspedhandsliftedaboveherhead,thatitwouldkilltheirfatherifheeverknewit;andfelldownatTip'sgracelessfeet.

Itwas easier forTip to bringher to her senses than for her to bringhim to

understand that the Father of theMarshalseawould be beside himself if heknew the truth. The thing was incomprehensible to Tip, and altogether afancifulnotion.Heyielded to it in that lightonly,whenhe submitted toherentreaties, backed by those of his uncle and sister. There was no want ofprecedent forhis return; itwasaccounted for to the father in theusualway;and thecollegians,withabetter comprehensionof thepious fraud thanTip,supporteditloyally.

This was the life, and this the history, of the child of the Marshalsea attwentytwo.With a still surviving attachment to the onemiserable yard andblock of houses as her birthplace and home, she passed to and fro in itshrinkinglynow,with awomanlyconsciousness that shewaspointedout toeveryone.Since shehadbegun toworkbeyond thewalls, shehad found itnecessary toconcealwhereshe lived,and tocomeandgoassecretlyasshecould,betweenthefreecityandtheirongates,outsideofwhichshehadneverslept inher life.Heroriginal timidityhadgrownwith thisconcealment,andher light step and her little figure shunned the thronged streets while theypassedalongthem.

Worldlywiseinhardandpoornecessities,shewasinnocentinallthingselse.Innocent,inthemistthroughwhichshesawherfather,andtheprison,andtheturbidlivingriverthatflowedthroughitandflowedon.

Thiswasthelife,andthisthehistory,ofLittleDorrit;nowgoinghomeuponadullSeptemberevening,observedatadistancebyArthurClennam.Thiswasthe life, and this the history, of Little Dorrit; turning at the end of LondonBridge,recrossingit,goingbackagain,passingontoSaintGeorge'sChurch,turning back suddenly oncemore, and flitting in at the open outer gate andlittlecourtyardoftheMarshalsea.

CHAPTER8.

TheLock

ArthurClennamstoodinthestreet,waitingtoasksomepasserbywhatplacethatwas.He suffered a fewpeople to pass him inwhose face therewasnoencouragementtomaketheinquiry,andstillstoodpausinginthestreet,whenanoldmancameupandturnedintothecourtyard.

He stooped a good deal, and plodded along in a slow preoccupiedmanner,whichmadethebustlingLondonthoroughfaresnoverysaferesortforhim.He

wasdirtilyandmeanlydressed,inathreadbarecoat,onceblue,reachingtohisanklesandbuttonedtohischin,whereitvanishedinthepaleghostofavelvetcollar.Apieceofredclothwithwhichthatphantomhadbeenstiffenedinitslifetimewasnowlaidbare,andpokeditselfup,at thebackof theoldman'sneck,intoaconfusionofgreyhairandrustystockandbucklewhichaltogethernearlypokedhishatoff.Agreasyhat itwas,andanapless; impendingoverhis eyes, cracked and crumpled at the brim, and with a wisp ofpockethandkerchief dangling out below it. His trousers were so long andloose, and his shoes so clumsy and large, that he shuffled like an elephant;thoughhowmuchofthiswasgait,andhowmuchtrailingclothandleather,noone could have told. Under one arm he carried a limp and wornout case,containingsomewind instrument; in thesamehandhehadapennyworthofsnuffinalittlepacketofwhiteybrownpaper,fromwhichheslowlycomfortedhispoorblueoldnosewithalengthenedoutpinch,asArthurClennamlookedat him. To this old man crossing the courtyard, he preferred his inquiry,touchinghimontheshoulder.Theoldmanstoppedandlookedround,withtheexpressioninhisweakgreyeyesofonewhosethoughtshadbeenfaroff,andwhowasalittledullofhearingalso.

'Pray,sir,'saidArthur,repeatinghisquestion,'whatisthisplace?'

'Ay!Thisplace?'returnedtheoldman,stayinghispinchofsnuffonitsroad,andpointingattheplacewithoutlookingatit.'ThisistheMarshalsea,sir.'

'Thedebtors'prison?'

'Sir,'saidtheoldman,withtheairofdeemingitnotquitenecessarytoinsistuponthatdesignation,'thedebtors'prison.'

Heturnedhimselfabout,andwenton.

'Ibegyourpardon,'saidArthur,stoppinghimoncemore,'butwillyouallowmetoaskyouanotherquestion?Cananyonegoinhere?'

'AnyonecangoIN,'repliedtheoldman;plainlyaddingbythesignificanceofhisemphasis,'butitisnoteveryonewhocangoout.'

'Pardonmeoncemore.Areyoufamiliarwiththeplace?'

'Sir,'returnedtheoldman,squeezinghislittlepacketofsnuffinhishand,andturninguponhisinterrogatorasifsuchquestionshurthim.'Iam.'

'I beg you to excuse me. I am not impertinently curious, but have a goodobject.DoyouknowthenameofDorrithere?'

'Myname,sir,'repliedtheoldmanmostunexpectedly,'isDorrit.'

Arthurpulledoffhishattohim.'Grantmethefavourofhalfadozenwords.Iwaswhollyunpreparedforyourannouncement,andhopethatassuranceismysufficient apology for having taken the liberty of addressing you. I haverecently come home to England after a long absence. I have seen at mymother'sMrsClennaminthecityayoungwomanworkingatherneedle,whomIhaveonlyheardaddressedorspokenofasLittleDorrit.Ihavefeltsincerelyinterestedinher,andhavehadagreatdesiretoknowsomethingmoreabouther.Isawher,notaminutebeforeyoucameup,passinatthatdoor.'

The oldman looked at him attentively. 'Are you a sailor, sir?' he asked.Heseemedalittledisappointedbytheshakeoftheheadthatrepliedtohim.'Notasailor?Ijudgedfromyoursunburntfacethatyoumightbe.Areyouinearnest,sir?'

'I do assureyou that I am, anddo entreat you tobelieve that I am, inplainearnest.'

'Iknowvery littleof theworld,sir,' returned theother,whohadaweakandquaveringvoice.'Iammerelypassingon,liketheshadowoverthesundial.Itwouldbeworthnoman'swhiletomisleadme;itwouldreallybetooeasytoopoorasuccess,toyieldanysatisfaction.Theyoungwomanwhomyousawgoinhere ismybrother's child.Mybrother isWilliamDorrit; I amFrederick.You say you have seen her at yourmother's (I knowyourmother befriendsher), you have felt an interest in her, and youwish to knowwhat she doeshere.Comeandsee.'

Hewentonagain,andArthuraccompaniedhim.

'Mybrother,' said theoldman,pausingon the stepand slowly facing roundagain, 'has been here many years; and much that happens even amongourselves,outofdoors,iskeptfromhimforreasonsthatIneedn'tenteruponnow.Besogoodastosaynothingofmyniece'sworkingatherneedle.Besogoodas tosaynothingthatgoesbeyondwhat issaidamongus. Ifyoukeepwithinourbounds,youcannotwellbewrong.Now!Comeandsee.'

Arthur followed him down a narrow entry, at the end of which a key wasturned, and a strong doorwas opened fromwithin. It admitted them into alodgeorlobby,acrosswhichtheypassed,andsothroughanotherdoorandagratingintotheprison.Theoldmanalwaysploddingonbefore,turnedround,inhisslow,stiff,stoopingmanner,whentheycametotheturnkeyonduty,asiftopresenthiscompanion.Theturnkeynodded;andthecompanionpassedinwithoutbeingaskedwhomhewanted.

Thenightwasdark;andtheprisonlampsintheyard,andthecandlesin theprison windows faintly shining behind many sorts of wry old curtain and

blind,hadnottheairofmakingitlighter.Afewpeopleloiteredabout,butthegreater part of the population was within doors. The old man, taking therighthandsideoftheyard,turnedinatthethirdorfourthdoorway,andbegantoascendthestairs.'Theyareratherdark,sir,butyouwillnotfindanythingintheway.'

Hepausedforamomentbeforeopeningadooronthesecondstory.HehadnosoonerturnedthehandlethanthevisitorsawLittleDorrit,andsawthereasonofhersettingsomuchstorebydiningalone.

Shehadbrought themeathome that she shouldhaveeatenherself, andwasalreadywarmingitonagridironoverthefireforherfather,cladinanoldgreygown and a black cap, awaiting his supper at the table. A clean cloth wasspread before him,with knife, fork, and spoon, saltcellar, pepperbox, glass,andpewteralepot.Suchzestsashisparticular littlephialofcayennepepperandhispennyworthofpicklesinasaucer,werenotwanting.

Shestarted,coloureddeeply,andturnedwhite.Thevisitor,morewithhiseyesthanbytheslightimpulsivemotionofhishand,entreatedhertobereassuredandtotrusthim.

'I found this gentleman,' said the uncle'MrClennam,William, sonofAmy'sfriendattheoutergate,wishful,ashewasgoingby,ofpayinghisrespects,buthesitatingwhethertocomeinornot.ThisismybrotherWilliam,sir.'

'I hope,' said Arthur, very doubtful what to say, 'that my respect for yourdaughtermayexplainandjustifymydesiretobepresentedtoyou,sir.'

'MrClennam,' returned theother, rising, takinghis capoff in the flat of hishand, and so holding it, ready to put on again, 'you dome honour.You arewelcome,sir;'withalowbow.'Frederick,achair.Praysitdown,MrClennam.'

Heputhisblackcaponagainashehadtakenitoff,andresumedhisownseat.Therewas awonderful air of benignity andpatronage in hismanner.Theseweretheceremonieswithwhichhereceivedthecollegians.

'YouarewelcometotheMarshalsea,sir.Ihavewelcomedmanygentlementothesewalls.PerhapsyouareawaremydaughterAmymayhavementionedthatIamtheFatherofthisplace.'

'IsoIhaveunderstood,'saidArthur,dashingattheassertion.

'Youknow,Idaresay,thatmydaughterAmywasbornhere.Agoodgirl,sir,adeargirl,andlongacomfortandsupporttome.Amy,mydear,putthisdishon;MrClennamwillexcuse theprimitivecustoms towhichweare reducedhere.Isitacomplimenttoaskyouifyouwoulddomethehonour,sir,to'

'Thankyou,'returnedArthur.'Notamorsel.'

He felt himself quite lost inwonder at themanner of theman, and that theprobability of his daughter's having had a reserve as to her family history,shouldbesofaroutofhismind.

Shefilledhisglass,putallthelittlemattersonthetablereadytohishand,andthensatbesidehimwhileheatehissupper.Evidently inobservanceof theirnightlycustom,sheputsomebreadbeforeherself,andtouchedhisglasswithher lips;butArthur sawshewas troubledand tooknothing.Her lookatherfather,halfadmiringhimandproudofhim,halfashamedforhim,alldevotedandloving,wenttohisinmostheart.

TheFatheroftheMarshalseacondescendedtowardshisbrotherasanamiable,wellmeaning man; a private character, who had not arrived at distinction.'Frederick,'saidhe,'youandFannysupatyourlodgingstonight,Iknow.WhathaveyoudonewithFanny,Frederick?''SheiswalkingwithTip.'

'Tipasyoumayknowismyson,MrClennam.Hehasbeena littlewild,anddifficulttosettle,buthisintroductiontotheworldwasrather'heshruggedhisshoulderswitha faint sigh,and lookedround the room'a littleadverse.Yourfirstvisithere,sir?'

'Myfirst.'

'Youcouldhardlyhavebeenheresinceyourboyhoodwithoutmyknowledge.Itveryseldomhappensthatanybodyofanypretensionsanypretensionscomesherewithoutbeingpresentedtome.'

'Asmanyasfortyorfiftyinadayhavebeenintroducedtomybrother,'saidFrederick,faintlylightingupwitharayofpride.

'Yes!' the Father of the Marshalsea assented. 'We have even exceeded thatnumber.OnafineSundayintermtime,itisquiteaLeveequiteaLevee.Amy,my dear, I have been trying half the day to remember the name of thegentlemanfromCamberwellwhowas introduced tome lastChristmasweekbythatagreeablecoalmerchantwhowasremandedforsixmonths.'

'Idon'trememberhisname,father.'

'Frederick, do you remember his name?' Frederick doubted if he had everheardit.NoonecoulddoubtthatFrederickwasthelastpersonuponearthtoputsuchaquestionto,withanyhopeofinformation.

'Imean,'saidhisbrother,'thegentlemanwhodidthathandsomeactionwithsomuchdelicacy.Ha!Tush!Thenamehasquiteescapedme.MrClennam,asI

have happened to mention handsome and delicate action, you may like,perhaps,toknowwhatitwas.'

'Very much,' said Arthur, withdrawing his eyes from the delicate headbeginningtodroopandthepalefacewithanewsolicitudestealingoverit.

'It issogenerous,andshowssomuchfinefeeling,thatit isalmostadutytomentionit.IsaidatthetimethatIalwayswouldmentionitoneverysuitableoccasion, without regard to personal sensitiveness. Awellait's of no use todisguise the factyoumust know,MrClennam, that it does sometimes occurthatpeoplewhocomeheredesiretooffersomelittleTestimonialtotheFatheroftheplace.'

To see her handuponhis arm inmute entreaty halfrepressed, andher timidlittleshrinkingfigureturningaway,wastoseeasad,sadsight.

'Sometimes,'hewentoninalow,softvoice,agitated,andclearinghisthroateverynowandthen;'sometimeshemittakesoneshapeandsometimesanother;but it is generallyhaMoney. And it is, I cannot but confess it, it is toooftenhemacceptable.ThisgentlemanthatI refer to,waspresented tome,MrClennam,inamannerhighlygratifyingtomyfeelings,andconversednotonlywithgreatpoliteness,butwithgreataheminformation.'Allthistime,thoughhehadfinishedhissupper,hewasnervouslygoingabouthisplatewithhisknifeand fork, as if some of it were still before him. 'It appeared from hisconversationthathehadagarden,thoughhewasdelicateofmentioningitatfirst,asgardensarehemarenotaccessibletome.Butitcameout,throughmyadmiring a very fine cluster of geraniumbeautiful cluster of geranium to besurewhichhehadbrought fromhisconservatory.Onmy takingnoticeof itsrich colour, he showedmeapieceofpaper round it, onwhichwaswritten,"For the Father of the Marshalsea," and presented it to me. But thiswashemnot all. Hemade a particular request, on taking leave, that I wouldremove the paper in half an hour. IhaI did so; and I found that itcontainedahemtwo guineas. I assure you, Mr Clennam, I havereceivedhemTestimonials inmanyways, and ofmany degrees of value, andthey have always beenhaunfortunately acceptable; but I never was morepleasedthanwiththisahemthisparticularTestimonial.'Arthurwasintheactofsayingthelittlehecouldsayonsuchatheme,whenabellbegantoring,andfootsteps approached the door.A pretty girl of a far better figure andmuchmoredeveloped thanLittleDorrit, though lookingmuchyounger in thefacewhen the two were observed together, stopped in the doorway on seeing astranger;andayoungmanwhowaswithher,stoppedtoo.

'MrClennam,Fanny.Myeldestdaughterandmyson,MrClennam.Thebellisa signal for visitors to retire, and so theyhave come to saygoodnight; but

there is plenty of time, plenty of time. Girls,Mr Clennamwill excuse anyhouseholdbusinessyoumayhavetogether.Heknows,Idaresay,thatIhavebutoneroomhere.'

'IonlywantmycleandressfromAmy,father,'saidthesecondgirl.

'AndImyclothes,'saidTip.

Amyopenedadrawerinanoldpieceoffurniturethatwasachestofdrawersabove and a bedstead below, and produced two little bundles, which shehanded toherbrotherandsister. 'Mendedandmadeup?'Clennamheard thesisteraskinawhisper.TowhichAmyanswered'Yes.'Hehadrisennow,andtook the opportunity of glancing round the room. The bare walls had beencoloured green, evidently by an unskilled hand, and were poorly decoratedwithafewprints.Thewindowwascurtained,andthefloorcarpeted;andtherewereshelvesandpegs,andothersuchconveniences,thathadaccumulatedinthecourseofyears.Itwasaclose,confinedroom,poorlyfurnished;andthechimney smoked to boot, or the tin screen at the top of the fireplace wassuperfluous;butconstantpainsandcarehadmadeitneat,andeven,afteritskind, comfortable. All the while the bell was ringing, and the uncle wasanxioustogo.'Come,Fanny,come,Fanny,'hesaid,withhisraggedclarionetcaseunderhisarm;'thelock,child,thelock!'

Fanny bade her father good night, and whisked off airily. Tip had alreadyclattereddownstairs. 'Now,MrClennam,' said theuncle, lookingbackasheshuffledoutafterthem,'thelock,sir,thelock.'

Mr Clennam had two things to do before he followed; one, to offer histestimonial to theFatherof theMarshalsea,withoutgivingpain tohischild;the other to say something to that child, though it were but a word, inexplanationofhishavingcomethere.

'Allowme,'saidtheFather,'toseeyoudownstairs.'

Shehadslippedoutaftertherest,andtheywerealone. 'Notonanyaccount,'saidthevisitor,hurriedly.'Prayallowmeto'chink,chink,chink.

'MrClennam,'saidtheFather,'Iamdeeply,deeply'Buthisvisitorhadshutuphishandtostoptheclinking,andhadgonedownstairswithgreatspeed.

HesawnoLittleDorritonhiswaydown,orintheyard.Thelasttwoorthreestragglerswerehurryingtothelodge,andhewasfollowing,whenhecaughtsight of her in the doorway of the first house from the entrance.He turnedbackhastily.

'Pray forgive me,' he said, 'for speaking to you here; pray forgive me for

cominghereatall!Ifollowedyoutonight.Ididso,thatImightendeavourtorenderyouandyourfamilysomeservice.YouknowthetermsonwhichIandmymother are, andmay not be surprised that I have preserved our distantrelations at her house, lest I should unintentionally make her jealous, orresentful,ordoyouanyinjuryinherestimation.WhatIhaveseenhere,inthisshort time, has greatly increasedmy heartfeltwish to be a friend to you. Itwouldrecompensemeformuchdisappointment ifIcouldhopetogainyourconfidence.'

Shewasscaredatfirst,butseemedtotakecouragewhilehespoketoher.

'Youareverygood,sir.Youspeakveryearnestlytome.ButIbutIwishyouhadnotwatchedme.'

He understood the emotion with which she said it, to arise in her father'sbehalf;andherespectedit,andwassilent.

'MrsClennamhasbeenofgreatservicetome;Idon'tknowwhatweshouldhavedonewithouttheemploymentshehasgivenme;Iamafraiditmaynotbeagoodreturntobecomesecretwithher;Icansaynomoretonight,sir.Iamsureyoumeantobekindtous.Thankyou,thankyou.' 'LetmeaskyouonequestionbeforeIleave.Haveyouknownmymotherlong?'

'Ithinktwoyears,sir,Thebellhasstopped.'

'Howdidyouknowherfirst?Didshesendhereforyou?'

'No.ShedoesnotevenknowthatIlivehere.Wehaveafriend,fatherandIapoorlabouringman,butthebestoffriendsandIwroteoutthatIwishedtodoneedlework,andgavehisaddress.AndhegotwhatIwroteoutdisplayedatafewplaceswhere it costnothing,andMrsClennamfoundme thatway,andsentforme.Thegatewillbelocked,sir!'

Shewassotremulousandagitated,andhewassomovedbycompassionforher, and by deep interest in her story as it dawned upon him, that he couldscarcely tearhimselfaway.But thestoppageof thebell,and thequiet in theprison,wereawarningtodepart;andwithafewhurriedwordsofkindnessheleftherglidingbacktoherfather.

But he remained too late. The inner gatewas locked, and the lodge closed.Afteralittlefruitlessknockingwithhishand,hewasstandingtherewiththedisagreeable conviction upon him that he had got to get through the night,whenavoiceaccostedhimfrombehind.

'Caught,eh?'saidthevoice.'Youwon'tgohometillmorning.Oh!It'syou,isit,MrClennam?'

ThevoicewasTip's;andtheystoodlookingatoneanotherintheprisonyard,asitbegantorain.

'You'vedoneit,'observedTip;'youmustbesharperthanthatnexttime.'

'Butyouarelockedintoo,'saidArthur.

'IbelieveIam!'saidTip,sarcastically.'About!Butnotinyourway.Ibelongtotheshop,onlymysisterhasatheorythatourgovernormustneverknowit.Idon'tseewhy,myself.'

'CanIgetanyshelter?'askedArthur.'WhathadIbetterdo?'

'WehadbettergetholdofAmyfirstofall,'saidTip,referringanydifficultytoherasamatterofcourse.

'Iwouldratherwalkaboutallnightit'snotmuchtodothangivethattrouble.'

'You needn't do that, if you don'tmind paying for a bed. If you don'tmindpaying, they'll make you up one on the Snuggery table, under thecircumstances.Ifyou'llcomealong,I'llintroduceyouthere.'

Astheypasseddowntheyard,Arthurlookedupatthewindowoftheroomhehadlatelyleft,wherethelightwasstillburning.'Yes,sir,'saidTip,followinghisglance.'That'sthegovernor's.She'llsitwithhimforanotherhourreadingyesterday'spaper tohim,orsomethingof that sort;and thenshe'llcomeoutlikealittleghost,andvanishawaywithoutasound.'

'Idon'tunderstandyou.'

'Thegovernorsleepsup in the room,andshehasa lodgingat the turnkey's.First house there,' said Tip, pointing out the doorway into which she hadretired. 'Firsthouse,skyparlour.Shepaystwiceasmuchforitasshewouldforonetwiceasgoodoutside.Butshestandsbythegovernor,poordeargirl,dayandnight.'

Thisbrought themto the tavernestablishmentat theupperendof theprison,wherethecollegianshadjustvacatedtheirsocialeveningclub.Theapartmenton the groundfloor inwhich itwas held,was the Snuggery in question; thepresidential tribune of the chairman, the pewterpots, glasses, pipes,tobaccoashes, and general flavour of members, were still as that convivialinstitution had left them on its adjournment. The Snuggery had two of thequalitiespopularlyheldtobeessentialtogrogforladies,inrespectthatitwashot and strong; but in the third point of analogy, requiring plenty of it, theSnuggerywasdefective;beingbutacoopedupapartment.

Theunaccustomedvisitorfromoutside,naturallyassumedeverybodyheretobeprisonerslandlord,waiter,barmaid,potboy,andall.Whether theywereornot,didnotappear;buttheyallhadaweedylook.Thekeeperofachandler'sshopinafrontparlour,whotookingentlemenboarders,lenthisassistanceinmakingthebed.Hehadbeenatailorinhistime,andhadkeptaphaeton,hesaid.Heboasted that he stoodup litigiously for the interests of the college;and he had undefined and undefinable ideas that the marshal intercepted a'Fund,'which ought to come to the collegians.He liked to believe this, andalwaysimpressedtheshadowygrievanceonnewcomersandstrangers;thoughhe could not, for his life, have explained what Fund hemeant, or how thenotion had got rooted in his soul. He had fully convinced himself,notwithstanding, that his own proper share of the Fund was three andninepenceaweek;andthatinthisamounthe,asanindividualcollegian,wasswindled by themarshal, regularly everyMonday.Apparently, he helped tomakethebed,thathemightnotloseanopportunityofstatingthiscase;afterwhichunloadingofhismind, and after announcing (as it seemedhe alwaysdid,withoutanythingcomingof it) thathewasgoing towritea letter to thepapersandshowthemarshalup,hefellintomiscellaneousconversationwiththerest.Itwasevidentfromthegeneraltoneofthewholeparty,thattheyhadcometoregardinsolvencyasthenormalstateofmankind,andthepaymentofdebtsasadiseasethatoccasionallybrokeout.Inthisstrangescene,andwiththese strange spectres flitting about him, Arthur Clennam looked on at thepreparationsasiftheywerepartofadream.Pendingwhich,thelonginitiatedTip, with an awful enjoyment of the Snuggery's resources, pointed out thecommonkitchen firemaintainedbysubscriptionofcollegians, theboiler forhotwater supported in likemanner, andother premisesgenerally tending tothedeductionthatthewaytobehealthy,wealthy,andwise,wastocometotheMarshalsea.

Thetwotablesputtogetherinacorner,were,atlength,convertedintoaveryfair bed; and the stranger was left to the Windsor chairs, the presidentialtribune, thebeeryatmosphere,sawdust,pipelights,spittoonsandrepose.Butthelastitemwaslong,long,long,inlinkingitselftotherest.Thenoveltyoftheplace, thecomingupon itwithoutpreparation, thesenseofbeing lockedup,theremembranceofthatroomupstairs,ofthetwobrothers,andaboveallof the retiring childish form, and the face in which he now saw years ofinsufficientfood,ifnotofwant,kepthimwakingandunhappy.

Speculations, too, bearing the strangest relations towards the prison, butalwaysconcerningtheprison,ranlikenightmaresthroughhismindwhilehelayawake.Whethercoffinswerekeptreadyforpeoplewhomightdie there,where they were kept, how they were kept, where people who died in theprison were buried, how they were taken out, what forms were observed,

whether an implacable creditor could arrest the dead?As to escaping,whatchancestherewereofescape?Whetheraprisonercouldscalethewallswithacord and grapple, how he would descend upon the other side? whether hecouldalightonahousetop, stealdowna staircase, lethimselfout at adoor,andget lost in thecrowd?As toFire in theprison, ifonewere tobreakoutwhilehelaythere?

Andtheseinvoluntarystartsoffancywere,afterall,butthesettingofapictureinwhichthreepeoplekeptbeforehim.Hisfather,withthesteadfastlookwithwhich he had died, prophetically darkened forth in the portrait; hismother,withherarmup,wardingoffhissuspicion;LittleDorrit,withherhandonthedegradedarm,andherdroopingheadturnedaway.

Whatifhismotherhadanoldreasonshewellknewforsofteningtothispoorgirl!WhatiftheprisonernowsleepingquietlyHeavengrantit!bythelightofthegreatDayofjudgmentshouldtracebackhisfalltoher.Whatifanyactofhersandofhisfather's,shouldhaveevenremotelybroughtthegreyheadsofthosetwobrotherssolow!

Aswiftthoughtshotintohismind.Inthatlongimprisonmenthere,andinherownlongconfinementtoherroom,didhismotherfindabalancetobestruck?'Iadmit that Iwasaccessory to thatman'scaptivity. Ihavesuffered for it inkind.Hehasdecayedinhisprison:Iinmine.Ihavepaidthepenalty.'

Whenall theother thoughtshad fadedout, thisoneheldpossessionofhim.Whenhefellasleep,shecamebeforehiminherwheeledchair,wardinghimoff with this justification. When he awoke, and sprang up causelesslyfrightened,thewordswereinhisears,asifhervoicehadslowlyspokenthemathispillow,tobreakhisrest:'Hewithersawayinhisprison;Iwitherawayinmine;inexorablejusticeisdone;whatdoIoweonthisscore!'

CHAPTER9.

LittleMother

ThemorninglightwasinnohurrytoclimbtheprisonwallandlookinattheSnuggerywindows;andwhenitdidcome,itwouldhavebeenmorewelcomeif it had come alone, instead of bringing a rush of rain with it. But theequinoctialgaleswereblowingoutatsea,andtheimpartialsouthwestwind,inits flight, would not neglect even the narrow Marshalsea. While it roaredthrough the steeple of St George's Church, and twirled all the cowls in the

neighbourhood, itmade a swoop to beat theSouthwark smoke into the jail;and, plunging down the chimneys of the few early collegianswhowere yetlighting their fires, half suffocated them. Arthur Clennamwould have beenlittle disposed to linger in bed, though his bed had been in a more privatesituation,andlessaffectedbytherakingoutofyesterday'sfire,thekindlingoftoday's under the collegiate boiler, the filling of that Spartan vessel at thepump, the sweeping and sawdusting of the common room, and other suchpreparations. Heartily glad to see the morning, though little rested by thenight, he turned out as soon as he could distinguish objects about him, andpacedtheyardfortwoheavyhoursbeforethegatewasopened.

Thewallsweresoneartooneanother,andthewildcloudshurriedoverthemsofast,thatitgavehimasensationlikethebeginningofseasicknesstolookupatthegustysky.Therain,carriedaslantbyflawsofwind,blackenedthatsideof thecentralbuildingwhichhehadvisitedlastnight,but leftanarrowdrytroughundertheleeofthewall,wherehewalkedupanddownamongthewaitsofstrawanddustandpaper, thewastedroppingsof thepump,andthestray leavesofyesterday'sgreens. Itwasashaggardaviewof lifeasamanneedlookupon.

Norwasitrelievedbyanyglimpseofthelittlecreaturewhohadbroughthimthere.Perhapssheglidedoutofherdoorwayand inat thatwhereher fatherlived,whilehisfacewasturnedfromboth;buthesawnothingofher.Itwastooearlyforherbrother;tohaveseenhimonce,wastohaveseenenoughofhim to know that he would be sluggish to leave whatever frowsy bed heoccupiedatnight;so,asArthurClennamwalkedupanddown,waitingforthegatetoopen,hecastaboutinhismindforfutureratherthanforpresentmeansofpursuinghisdiscoveries.

At last the lodgegate turned,andthe turnkey,standingonthestep, takinganearlycombathishair,wasreadytolethimout.Withajoyfulsenseofreleasehe passed through the lodge, and found himself again in the little outercourtyardwherehehadspokentothebrotherlastnight.

Therewasastringofpeoplealreadystragglingin,whomitwasnotdifficulttoidentifyasthenondescriptmessengers,gobetweens,anderrandbearersoftheplace.Someofthemhadbeenloungingintherainuntilthegateshouldopen;others,whohadtimedtheirarrivalwithgreaternicety,werecomingupnow,andpassinginwithdampwhiteybrownpaperbagsfromthegrocers,loavesofbread, lumps of butter, eggs, milk, and the like. The shabbiness of theseattendants upon shabbiness, the poverty of these insolvent waiters uponinsolvency,wasasighttosee.Suchthreadbarecoatsandtrousers,suchfustygowns and shawls, such squashed hats and bonnets, such boots and shoes,suchumbrellasandwalkingsticks,neverwere seen inRagFair.Allof them

wore thecastoffclothesofothermenandwomen,weremadeupofpatchesand pieces of other people's individuality, and had no sartorial existence oftheirownproper.Theirwalkwasthewalkofaraceapart.Theyhadapeculiarwayofdoggedlyslinkingroundthecorner,asiftheywereeternallygoingtothepawnbroker's.Whentheycoughed,theycoughedlikepeopleaccustomedtobeforgottenondoorstepsandindraughtypassages,waitingforanswerstoletters in faded ink, which gave the recipients of those manuscripts greatmentaldisturbanceandnosatisfaction.As theyeyedthestranger inpassing,theyeyedhimwithborrowingeyeshungry,sharp,speculativeastohissoftnessif theywereaccredited tohim,and the likelihoodofhis standing somethinghandsome. Mendicity on commission stooped in their high shoulders,shambledintheirunsteadylegs,buttonedandpinnedanddarnedanddraggedtheirclothes,frayedtheirbuttonholes,leakedoutoftheirfiguresindirtylittleendsoftape,andissuedfromtheirmouthsinalcoholicbreathings.

As thesepeoplepassedhim standing still in the courtyard, andoneof themturned back to inquire if he could assist himwith his services, it came intoArthurClennam'smind thathewould speak toLittleDorrit againbeforehewentaway.Shewouldhaverecoveredherfirstsurprise,andmightfeeleasierwithhim.Heaskedthismemberofthefraternity(whohadtworedherringsinhis hand, and a loaf and a blacking brush under his arm), where was thenearestplacetogetacupofcoffeeat.Thenondescriptrepliedinencouragingterms,andbroughthimtoacoffeeshopinthestreetwithinastone'sthrow.

'DoyouknowMissDorrit?'askedthenewclient.

ThenondescriptknewtwoMissDorrits;onewhowasborninsideThatwastheone!Thatwastheone?Thenondescripthadknownhermanyyears.InregardoftheotherMissDorrit,thenondescriptlodgedinthesamehousewithherselfanduncle.

This changed the client's halfformed design of remaining at the coffeeshopuntil thenondescriptshouldbringhimwordthatDorrithadissuedforth intothe street. He entrusted the nondescript with a confidential message to her,importingthatthevisitorwhohadwaitedonherfatherlastnight,beggedthefavourof a fewwordswithheratheruncle's lodging;heobtained from thesamesourcefulldirectionstothehouse,whichwasverynear;dismissedthenondescriptgratifiedwithhalfacrown;andhavinghastilyrefreshedhimselfatthecoffeeshop,repairedwithallspeedtotheclarionetplayer'sdwelling.

Thereweresomany lodgers in thishouse that thedoorpost seemed tobeasfullofbellhandlesasacathedralorganisofstops.Doubtfulwhichmightbetheclarionetstop,hewasconsideringthepoint,whenashuttlecockflewoutofthe parlour window, and alighted on his hat. He then observed that in the

parlour window was a blind with the inscription, MR CRIPPLES'sACADEMY;alsoinanotherline,EVENINGTUITION;andbehindtheblindwasalittlewhitefacedboy,withasliceofbreadandbutterandabattledore.

Thewindowbeingaccessiblefromthefootway,he lookedinover theblind,returnedtheshuttlecock,andputhisquestion.

'Dorrit?' said the littlewhitefacedboy (MasterCripples in fact). 'MrDorrit?Thirdbellandoneknock.'ThepupilsofMrCripplesappeared tohavebeenmakingacopybookof thestreetdoor, itwassoextensivelyscribbledover inpencil.

The frequency of the inscriptions, 'Old Dorrit,' and 'Dirty Dick,' incombination,suggestedintentionsofpersonalityonthepartOfMrCripples'spupils.Therewasampletimetomaketheseobservationsbeforethedoorwasopenedbythepooroldmanhimself.

'Ha!'saidhe,veryslowlyrememberingArthur,'youwereshutinlastnight?'

'Yes,MrDorrit.Ihopetomeetyournieceherepresently.'

'Oh!' said he, pondering. 'Out ofmy brother'sway? True.Would you comeupstairsandwaitforher?'

'Thankyou.'

Turninghimselfasslowlyasheturnedinhismindwhateverheheardorsaid,he led theway up the narrow stairs. The housewas very close, and had anunwholesome smell. The little staircase windows looked in at the backwindowsofotherhousesasunwholesomeasitself,withpolesandlinesthrustoutofthem,onwhichunsightlylinenhung;asiftheinhabitantswereanglingfor clothes, and had had somewretched bites notworth attending to. In thebackgarretasicklyroom,withaturnupbedsteadinit,sohastilyandrecentlyturnedupthat theblanketswereboilingover,as itwere,andkeepingthelidopenahalffinishedbreakfastofcoffeeandtoastfortwopersonswasjumbleddownanyhowonaricketytable.

There was no one there. The old man mumbling to himself, after someconsideration, that Fanny had run away,went to the next room to fetch herback. The visitor, observing that she held the door on the inside, and that,whentheuncletriedtoopenit,therewasasharpadjurationof'Don't,stupid!'and an appearance of loose stocking and flannel, concluded that the younglady was in an undress. The uncle, without appearing to come to anyconclusion, shuffled in again, sat down inhis chair, andbeganwarminghishandsatthefire;notthatitwascold,orthathehadanywakingideawhetherit

wasornot.

'What did you think of my brother, sir?' he asked, when he byandbydiscoveredwhathewasdoing,leftoff,reachedovertothechimneypiece,andtookhisclarionetcasedown.

'Iwas glad,' saidArthur, verymuch at a loss, for his thoughtswere on thebrotherbeforehim; 'tofindhimsowellandcheerful.' 'Ha!'muttered theoldman,'yes,yes,yes,yes,yes!'

Arthurwonderedwhathecouldpossiblywantwiththeclarionetcase.Hedidnotwantitatall.Hediscovered,induetime,thatitwasnotthelittlepaperofsnuff(whichwasalsoonthechimneypiece),putitbackagain,tookdownthesnuffinstead,andsolacedhimselfwithapinch.Hewasasfeeble,spare,andslow in his pinches as in everything else, but a certain little trickling ofenjoyment of themplayed in the poorworn nerves about the corners of hiseyesandmouth.

'Amy,MrClennam.Whatdoyouthinkofher?'

'Iammuchimpressed,MrDorrit,byallthatIhaveseenofherandthoughtofher.'

'MybrotherwouldhavebeenquitelostwithoutAmy,'hereturned.'Weshouldallhavebeen lostwithoutAmy.She isaverygoodgirl,Amy.Shedoesherduty.'

Arthurfanciedthatheheardinthesepraisesacertaintoneofcustom,whichhehadheardfromthefather lastnightwithaninwardprotestandfeelingofantagonism.Itwasnotthattheystintedherpraises,orwereinsensibletowhatshedidforthem;butthattheywerelazilyhabituatedtoher,astheyweretoallthe rest of their condition. He fancied that although they had before them,every day, the means of comparison between her and one another andthemselves, they regarded her as being in her necessary place; as holding apositiontowardsthemallwhichbelongedtoher,likehernameorherage.Hefancied that they viewed her, not as having risen away from the prisonatmosphere,butasappertainingtoit;asbeingvaguelywhattheyhadarighttoexpect,andnothingmore.

Her uncle resumedhis breakfast, andwasmunching toast sopped in coffee,obliviousofhisguest,when the thirdbell rang.ThatwasAmy,hesaid,andwentdowntoletherin;leavingthevisitorwithasvividapictureonhismindofhisbegrimedhands,dirtworn face, anddecayed figure, as ifhewere stilldroopinginhischair.

She came up after him, in the usual plain dress, and with the usual timidmanner.Herlipswerealittleparted,asifherheartbeatfasterthanusual.

'MrClennam,Amy,'saidheruncle,'hasbeenexpectingyousometime.'

'Itookthelibertyofsendingyouamessage.'

'Ireceivedthemessage,sir.'

'Are yougoing tomymother's thismorning? I thinknot, for it is past yourusualhour.''Nottoday,sir.Iamnotwantedtoday.'

'Will you allowMe to walk a little way in whatever direction youmay begoing?Icanthenspeaktoyouaswewalk,bothwithoutdetainingyouhere,andwithoutintrudinglongerheremyself.'

Shelookedembarrassed,butsaid,ifhepleased.Hemadeapretenceofhavingmislaidhiswalkingstick,togivehertimetosetthebedsteadright,toanswerhersister'simpatientknockatthewall,andtosayawordsoftlytoheruncle.Thenhefoundit,andtheywentdownstairs;shefirst,hefollowing;theunclestanding at the stairhead, and probably forgetting them before they hadreachedthegroundfloor.

MrCripples'spupils,whowerebythistimecomingtoschool,desistedfromtheirmorningrecreationofcuffingoneanotherwithbagsandbooks,tostarewithalltheeyestheyhadatastrangerwhohadbeentoseeDirtyDick.Theyborethetryingspectacleinsilence,until themysteriousvisitorwasatasafedistance; when they burst into pebbles and yells, and likewise into revilingdances, and in all respects buried the pipe of peace with so many savageceremonies,that,ifMrCrippleshadbeenthechiefoftheCripplewaybootribewith hiswarpaint on, they could scarcely have done greater justice to theireducation.

In the midst of this homage, Mr Arthur Clennam offered his arm to LittleDorrit, and Little Dorrit took it. 'Will you go by the Iron Bridge,' said he,'wherethereisanescapefromthenoiseofthestreet?'LittleDorritanswered,if he pleased, and presently ventured to hope that he would 'not mind' MrCripples'sboys,forshehadherselfreceivedhereducation,suchasitwas,inMrCripples'seveningacademy.Hereturned,withthebestwill intheworld,thatMrCripples'sboyswereforgivenoutofthebottomofhissoul.ThusdidCripplesunconsciouslybecomeamasteroftheceremoniesbetweenthem,andbring themmorenaturally together thanBeauNashmighthavedone if theyhadlivedinhisgoldendays,andhehadalightedfromhiscoachandsixforthepurpose.

Themorningremainedsqually,andthestreetsweremiserablymuddy,butnorainfellastheywalkedtowardstheIronBridge.Thelittlecreatureseemedsoyounginhiseyes,thatthereweremomentswhenhefoundhimselfthinkingofher,ifnotspeakingtoher,asifshewereachild.Perhapsheseemedasoldinhereyesassheseemedyounginhis.

'Iamsorrytohearyouweresoinconveniencedlastnight,sir,astobelockedin.Itwasveryunfortunate.'

Itwasnothing,hereturned.Hehadhadaverygoodbed.

'Oh yes!' she said quickly; 'she believed there were excellent beds at thecoffeehouse.'Henoticedthatthecoffeehousewasquiteamajestichoteltoher,andthatshetreasureditsreputation.'Ibelieveitisveryexpensive,'saidLittleDorrit, 'butMY father has told me that quite beautiful dinners may be gotthere.Andwine,'sheaddedtimidly.'Wereyoueverthere?'

'Ohno!Onlyintothekitchentofetchhotwater.'

Tothinkofgrowingupwithakindofaweupononeastotheluxuriesofthatsuperbestablishment,theMarshalseaHotel!

'Iaskedyoulastnight,'saidClennam,'howyouhadbecomeacquaintedwithmymother.Didyoueverhearhernamebeforeshesentforyou?'

'No,sir.'

'Doyouthinkyourfathereverdid?'

'No,sir.'

Hemethereyesraisedtohiswithsomuchwonderinthem(shewasscaredwhen the encounter took place, and shrunk away again), that he felt itnecessarytosay:

'Ihaveareasonforasking,whichIcannotverywellexplain;butyoumust,onnoaccount,supposeittobeofanaturetocauseyoutheleastalarmoranxiety.Quitethereverse.Andyouthinkthatatnotimeofyourfather'slifewasmynameofClennameverfamiliartohim?'

'No,sir.'

He felt, from the tone inwhich she spoke, that shewas glancing up at himwith thoseparted lips; thereforehe lookedbeforehim, rather thanmakeherheartbeatquickerstillbyembarrassingherafresh.

ThustheyemergedupontheIronBridge,whichwasasquietaftertheroaring

streets as though it hadbeenopen country.Thewindblew roughly, thewetsquallscamerattlingpastthem,skimmingthepoolsontheroadandpavement,and raining them down into the river. The clouds raced on furiously in theleadColouredsky,thesmokeandmistracedafterthem,thedarktideranfierceandstrong in thesamedirection.LittleDorrit seemed the least, thequietest,andweakestofHeaven'screatures.

'Letmeputyouinacoach,'saidClennam,verynearlyadding'mypoorchild.'

Shehurriedlydeclined,sayingthatwetordrymadelittledifferencetoher;shewasused togoabout inallweathers.Heknew it tobeso,andwas touchedwithmorepity;thinkingoftheslightfigureathisside,makingitsnightlywaythroughthedampdarkboisterousstreetstosuchaplaceofrest.'Youspokesofeelingly tome last night, sir, and I found afterwards that you had been sogenerous tomyfather, that Icouldnotresistyourmessage, if itwasonly tothankyou;especiallyasIwishedverymuchtosaytoyou'shehesitatedandtrembled,andtearsroseinhereyes,butdidnotfall.

'Tosaytome?'

'ThatIhopeyouwillnotmisunderstandmyfather.Don'tjudgehim,sir,asyouwouldjudgeothersoutsidethegates.Hehasbeentheresolong!Ineversawhimoutside,butIcanunderstandthathemusthavegrowndifferentinsomethingssince.'

'Mythoughtswillneverbeunjustorharshtowardshim,believeme.'

'Not,' shesaid,withaprouderair,as themisgivingevidentlycreptuponherthat shemight seem to be abandoning him, 'not that he has anything to beashamedofforhimself,orthatIhaveanythingtobeashamedofforhim.Heonlyrequires tobeunderstood. Ionlyaskforhimthathis lifemaybefairlyremembered.Allthathesaidwasquitetrue.Itallhappenedjustasherelatedit.Heisverymuchrespected.Everybodywhocomesin,isgladtoknowhim.He is more courted than anyone else. He is far more thought of than theMarshalis.'

If ever pridewere innocent, itwas innocent inLittleDorritwhen she grewboastfulofherfather.

'Itisoftensaidthathismannersareatruegentleman's,andquiteastudy.Iseenoneliketheminthatplace,butheisadmittedtobesuperior toall therest.Thisisquiteasmuchwhytheymakehimpresents,asbecausetheyknowhimtobeneedy.Heisnottobeblamedforbeinginneed,poorlove.Whocouldbeinprisonaquarterofacentury,andbeprosperous!'

Whataffectioninherwords,whatcompassioninherrepressedtears,whatagreatsouloffidelitywithinher,howtrue the light thatshedfalsebrightnessroundhim!

'If Ihave found itbest toconcealwheremyhome is, it isnotbecause Iamashamedofhim.Godforbid!NoramIsomuchashamedoftheplaceitselfasmightbesupposed.Peoplearenotbadbecausetheycomethere.Ihaveknownnumbersofgood,persevering,honestpeoplecometherethroughmisfortune.They are almost all kindhearted to one another.And itwould be ungratefulindeed inme, to forget that Ihavehadmanyquiet,comfortablehours there;that I had an excellent friend therewhen Iwas quite a baby,whowas veryvery fondofme; that I havebeen taught there, andhaveworked there, andhavesleptsoundlythere.Ithinkitwouldbealmostcowardlyandcruelnottohavesomelittleattachmentforit,afterallthis.'

Shehad relieved the faithful fulnessofherheart, andmodestly said, raisinghereyesappealinglytohernewfriend's, 'Ididnotmeantosaysomuch,norhaveIeverbutoncespokenaboutthisbefore.Butitseemstosetitmorerightthanitwaslastnight.IsaidIwishedyouhadnotfollowedme,sir.Idon'twishitsomuchnow,unlessyoushouldthinkindeedIdon'twishitatall,unlessIshouldhave spoken so confusedly, thatthatyoucan scarcelyunderstandme,whichIamafraidmaybethecase.'

He told her with perfect truth that it was not the case; and putting himselfbetweenherandthesharpwindandrain,shelteredheraswellashecould.

'Ifeelpermittednow,'hesaid,'toaskyoualittlemoreconcerningyourfather.Hashemanycreditors?'

'Oh!agreatnumber.'

'Imeandetainingcreditors,whokeephimwhereheis?'

'Ohyes!agreatnumber.'

'Can you tell meI can get the information, no doubt, elsewhere, if youcannotwhoisthemostinfluentialofthem?'

LittleDorrit said,afterconsideringa little, thatsheused tohear longagoofMrTiteBarnacleasamanofgreatpower.Hewasacommissioner,oraboard,oratrustee,'orsomething.'HelivedinGrosvenorSquare,shethought,orverynear it. He was under Governmenthigh in the Circumlocution Office. Sheappearedtohaveacquired,inherinfancy,someawfulimpressionofthemightofthisformidableMrTiteBarnacleofGrosvenorSquare,orverynearit,andtheCircumlocutionOffice,whichquitecrushedherwhenshementionedhim.

'Itcandonoharm,'thoughtArthur,'ifIseethisMrTiteBarnacle.'

Thethoughtdidnotpresentitselfsoquietlybutthatherquicknessinterceptedit.'Ah!'saidLittleDorrit,shakingherheadwiththemilddespairofalifetime.'Manypeopleusedtothinkonceofgettingmypoorfatherout,butyoudon'tknowhowhopelessitis.'

Sheforgot tobeshyat themoment, inhonestlywarninghimawayfromthesunkenwreckhehadadreamofraising;andlookedathimwitheyeswhichassuredly, in association with her patient face, her fragile figure, her sparedress,andthewindandrain,didnotturnhimfromhispurposeofhelpingher.

'Evenifitcouldbedone,'saidshe'anditnevercanbedonenowwherecouldfather live,orhowcouldhe live? Ihaveoften thought that if suchachangecouldcome,itmightbeanythingbutaservicetohimnow.Peoplemightnotthinksowellofhimoutsideastheydothere.Hemightnotbesogentlydealtwithoutsideasheisthere.Hemightnotbesofithimselfforthelifeoutsideashe is for that.' Here for the first time she could not restrain her tears fromfalling; and the little thin hands he had watched when they were so busy,trembledastheyclaspedeachother.

'ItwouldbeanewdistresstohimeventoknowthatIearnalittlemoney,andthatFanny earns a littlemoney.He is so anxious about us, you see, feelinghelplesslyshutupthere.Suchagood,goodfather!'

Heletthelittleburstoffeelinggobybeforehespoke.Itwassoongone.Shewas not accustomed to think of herself, or to trouble any one with heremotions.He had but glanced away at the piles of city roofs and chimneysamongwhichthesmokewasrollingheavily,andatthewildernessofmastsonthe river, and the wilderness of steeples on the shore, indistinctly mixedtogether in thestormyhaze,whenshewasagainasquietas if shehadbeenplyingherneedleinhismother'sroom.

'Youwouldbegladtohaveyourbrothersetatliberty?'

'Ohvery,veryglad,sir!'

'Well,wewill hope for him at least.You toldme last night of a friend youhad?'

HisnamewasPlornish,LittleDorritsaid.

AndwheredidPlornishlive?PlornishlivedinBleedingHeartYard.Hewas'onlyaplasterer,'LittleDorritsaid,asacautiontohimnottoformhighsocialexpectations of Plornish.He lived at the last house inBleedingHeartYard,and his namewas over a little gateway. Arthur took down the address and

gaveherhis.Hehadnowdoneallhesoughttodoforthepresent,exceptthathewishedtoleaveherwitharelianceuponhim,andtohavesomethinglikeapromisefromherthatshewouldcherishit.

'There is one friend!' he said, putting up his pocketbook. 'As I take youbackyouaregoingback?'

'Ohyes!goingstraighthome.'

'As I take you back,' the word home jarred upon him, 'let me ask you topersuadeyourselfthatyouhaveanotherfriend.Imakenoprofessions,andsaynomore.'

'Youaretrulykindtome,sir.IamsureIneednomore.'

Theywalkedbackthroughthemiserablemuddystreets,andamongthepoor,meanshops,andwerejostledbythecrowdsofdirtyhuckstersusualtoapoorneighbourhood.Therewasnothing,bytheshortway,thatwaspleasanttoanyofthefivesenses.Yetitwasnotacommonpassagethroughcommonrain,andmire,andnoise,toClennam,havingthislittle,slender,carefulcreatureonhisarm.Howyoungsheseemed tohim,orhowoldhe toher;orwhata secreteither to the other, in that beginning of the destined interweaving of theirstories,mattersnothere.Hethoughtofherhavingbeenbornandbredamongthese scenes, and shrinking through them now, familiar yet misplaced; hethought of her long acquaintancewith the squalid needs of life, and of herinnocence; of her solicitude for others, and her few years, and her childishaspect.

Theywerecome into theHighStreet,where theprisonstood,whenavoicecried,'Littlemother,littlemother!'LittleDorritstoppingandlookingback,anexcited figure of a strange kind bounced against them (still crying 'littlemother'), fell down, and scattered the contents of a large basket, filledwithpotatoes,inthemud.

'Oh,Maggy,'saidLittleDorrit,'whataclumsychildyouare!'

Maggywas not hurt, but picked herself up immediately, and then began topickupthepotatoes,inwhichbothLittleDorritandArthurClennamhelped.Maggypickedupveryfewpotatoesandagreatquantityofmud;buttheywereall recovered, and deposited in the basket.Maggy then smeared hermuddyface with her shawl, and presenting it to Mr Clennam as a type of purity,enabledhimtoseewhatshewaslike.

Shewasabouteightandtwenty,withlargebones,largefeatures,largefeetandhands, large eyes and no hair. Her large eyes were limpid and almost

colourless; they seemed to be very little affected by light, and to standunnaturallystill.Therewasalsothatattentivelisteningexpressioninherface,which is seen in the faces of the blind; but she was not blind, having onetolerably serviceable eye.Her facewas not exceedingly ugly, though itwasonlyredeemedfrombeingsobyasmile;agoodhumouredsmile,andpleasantin itself, but rendered pitiable by being constantly there.A greatwhite cap,withaquantityofopaquefrillingthatwasalwaysflappingabout,apologisedforMaggy'sbaldness,andmadeitsoverydifficultforheroldblackbonnettoretain its place upon her head, that it held on round her neck like a gipsy'sbaby.Acommissionofhaberdasherscouldalonehavereportedwhattherestof her poor dress wasmade of, but it had a strong general resemblance toseaweed,withhereandthereagigantictealeaf.Hershawllookedparticularlylikeatealeafafterlonginfusion.

Arthur Clennam looked at Little Dorrit with the expression of one saying,'MayIaskwhothisis?'LittleDorrit,whosehandthisMaggy,stillcallingherlittle mother, had begun to fondle, answered in words (they were under agatewayintowhichthemajorityofthepotatoeshadrolled).

'ThisisMaggy,sir.'

'Maggy,sir,'echoedthepersonagepresented.'Littlemother!'

'Sheisthegranddaughter'saidLittleDorrit.

'Granddaughter,'echoedMaggy.

'Ofmyoldnurse,whohasbeendeadalongtime.Maggy,howoldareyou?'

'Ten,mother,'saidMaggy.

'You can't think how good she is, sir,' said Little Dorrit, with infinitetenderness.

'GoodSHEis,'echoedMaggy, transferringthepronouninamostexpressivewayfromherselftoherlittlemother.

'Orhowclever,' saidLittleDorrit. 'Shegoesonerrands aswell as anyone.'Maggy laughed. 'And is as trustworthy as the Bank of England.' Maggylaughed.'Sheearnsherownlivingentirely.Entirely,sir!'saidLittleDorrit,inalowerandtriumphanttone.

'Reallydoes!'

'Whatisherhistory?'askedClennam.

'Think of that, Maggy?' said Little Dorrit, taking her two large hands and

clappingthemtogether.'Agentlemanfromthousandsofmilesaway,wantingtoknowyourhistory!'

'Myhistory?'criedMaggy.'Littlemother.'

'Shemeansme,'saidLittleDorrit,ratherconfused;'sheisverymuchattachedtome.Heroldgrandmotherwasnotsokindtoherassheshouldhavebeen;was she, Maggy?' Maggy shook her head, made a drinking vessel of herclenched left hand, drank out of it, and said, 'Gin.' Then beat an imaginarychild,andsaid,'Broomhandlesandpokers.'

'WhenMaggywas tenyearsold,' saidLittleDorrit,watchingher facewhileshespoke, 'shehadabadfever,sir,andshehasnevergrownanyoldereversince.'

'Tenyearsold,' saidMaggy,noddingherhead. 'Butwhatanicehospital!Socomfortable,wasn'tit?Ohsoniceitwas.SuchaEv'nlyplace!'

'She had never been at peace before, sir,' saidLittleDorrit, turning towardsArthurforaninstantandspeakinglow,'andshealwaysrunsoffuponthat.'

'Suchbedsthereisthere!'criedMaggy.'Suchlemonades!Suchoranges!Suchd'liciousbrothandwine!SuchChicking!Oh,AIN'Titadelightfulplacetogoandstopat!'

'SoMaggystoppedthereaslongasshecould,'saidLittleDorrit,inherformertoneoftellingachild'sstory;thetonedesignedforMaggy'sear, 'andat last,when she could stop there no longer, she came out. Then, because shewasnevertobemorethantenyearsold,howeverlongshelived'

'Howeverlongshelived,'echoedMaggy.

'Andbecauseshewasveryweak;indeedwassoweakthatwhenshebegantolaughshecouldn'tstopherselfwhichwasagreatpity'

(Maggymightygraveofasudden.)

'Hergrandmotherdidnotknowwhattodowithher,andforsomeyearswasveryunkindtoherindeed.Atlength,incourseoftime,Maggybegantotakepainstoimproveherself,andtobeveryattentiveandveryindustrious;andbydegreeswasallowedtocomeinandoutasoftenassheliked,andgotenoughtodotosupportherself,anddoessupportherself.Andthat,'saidLittleDorrit,clapping the two great hands together again, 'isMaggy's history, asMaggyknows!'

Ah! But Arthur would have known what was wanting to its completeness,

thoughhehadneverheardof thewordsLittlemother; thoughhehadneverseenthefondlingofthesmallsparehand;thoughhehadhadnosightforthetearsnowstandinginthecolourlesseyes;thoughhehadhadnohearingforthesobthatcheckedtheclumsylaugh.Thedirtygatewaywiththewindandrainwhistling through it, and the basket of muddy potatoes waiting to be spiltagain or taken up, never seemed the common hole it really was, when helookedbacktoitbytheselights.Never,never!

They were very near the end of their walk, and they now came out of thegatewaytofinishit.NothingwouldserveMaggybutthattheymuststopatagrocer'swindow,shortof theirdestination,forher toshowher learning.Shecouldreadafterasort;andpickedoutthefatfiguresintheticketsofprices,forthemostpartcorrectly.Shealsostumbled,withalargebalanceofsuccessagainst her failures, through various philanthropic recommendations to Tryour Mixture, Try our Family Black, Try our Orangeflavoured Pekoe,challengingcompetitionattheheadofFloweryTeas;andvariouscautionstothe public against spurious establishments and adulterated articles.Whenhesaw how pleasure brought a rosy tint into Little Dorrit's face whenMaggymade a hit, he felt that he could have stood there making a library of thegrocer'swindowuntiltherainandwindweretired.

Thecourtyardreceivedthematlast,andtherehesaidgoodbyetoLittleDorrit.Little as shehadalways looked, she looked less thaneverwhenhe sawhergoingintotheMarshalsealodgepassage,thelittlemotherattendedbyherbigchild.Thecagedooropened,andwhenthesmallbird,rearedincaptivity,hadtamelyflutteredin,hesawitshutagain;andthenhecameaway.

CHAPTER10.

ContainingthewholeScienceofGovernment

TheCircumlocutionOfficewas(aseverybodyknowswithoutbeingtold)themost important Department under Government. No public business of anykind could possibly be done at any time without the acquiescence of theCircumlocution Office. Its finger was in the largest public pie, and in thesmallestpublic tart. Itwasequally impossible todo theplainest rightand toundo theplainestwrongwithout theexpressauthorityof theCircumlocutionOffice.IfanotherGunpowderPlothadbeendiscoveredhalfanhourbeforethelighting of the match, nobody would have been justified in saving theparliament until there had been half a score of boards, half a bushel of

minutes, several sacks of official memoranda, and a familyvault full ofungrammaticalcorrespondence,onthepartoftheCircumlocutionOffice.

Thisgloriousestablishmenthadbeenearlyinthefield,whentheonesublimeprincipleinvolvingthedifficultartofgoverningacountry,wasfirstdistinctlyrevealedtostatesmen.Ithadbeenforemosttostudythatbrightrevelationandto carry its shining influence through thewhole of the official proceedings.Whateverwasrequiredtobedone,theCircumlocutionOfficewasbeforehandwithallthepublicdepartmentsintheartofperceivingHOWNOTTODOIT.

Through this delicate perception, through the tact with which it invariablyseized it, and through the genius with which it always acted on it, theCircumlocutionOfficehadrisentoovertopallthepublicdepartments;andthepublicconditionhadrisentobewhatitwas.

It is true thatHownot to do itwas the great study and object of all publicdepartmentsandprofessionalpoliticiansallroundtheCircumlocutionOffice.It is true that every new premier and every new government, coming inbecause they had upheld a certain thing as necessary to be done, were nosoonercomeinthantheyappliedtheirutmostfacultiestodiscoveringHownotto do it. It is true that from themomentwhen a general electionwas over,every returnedmanwhohadbeen ravingonhustingsbecause ithadn'tbeendone,andwhohadbeenaskingthefriendsofthehonourablegentlemanintheoppositeinterestonpainofimpeachmenttotellhimwhyithadn'tbeendone,andwhohadbeenassertingthatitmustbedone,andwhohadbeenpledginghimselfthatitshouldbedone,begantodevise,Howitwasnottobedone.ItistruethatthedebatesofbothHousesofParliamentthewholesessionthrough,uniformlytendedtotheprotracteddeliberation,Hownottodoit.Itistruethatthe royal speechat theopeningof such sessionvirtually said,My lords andgentlemen,youhaveaconsiderablestrokeofworktodo,andyouwillpleasetoretiretoyourrespectivechambers,anddiscuss,Hownottodoit.Itistruethattheroyalspeech,atthecloseofsuchsession,virtuallysaid,Mylordsandgentlemen,youhavethroughseverallaboriousmonthsbeenconsideringwithgreat loyaltyandpatriotism,Hownot todo it, andyouhave foundout; andwiththeblessingofProvidenceupontheharvest(natural,notpolitical),Inowdismissyou.Allthisistrue,buttheCircumlocutionOfficewentbeyondit.

BecausetheCircumlocutionOfficewentonmechanically,everyday,keepingthis wonderful, allsufficient wheel of statesmanship, How not to do it, inmotion. Because the Circumlocution Office was down upon any illadvisedpublicservantwhowasgoingtodoit,orwhoappearedtobebyanysurprisingaccidentinremotedangerofdoingit,withaminute,andamemorandum,anda letter of instructions that extinguished him. It was this spirit of nationalefficiency in theCircumlocutionOffice that had gradually led to its having

somethingtodowitheverything.Mechanicians,naturalphilosophers,soldiers,sailors,petitioners,memorialists,peoplewithgrievances,peoplewhowantedto prevent grievances, people who wanted to redress grievances, jobbingpeople,jobbedpeople,peoplewhocouldn'tgetrewardedformerit,andpeoplewho couldn't get punished for demerit, were all indiscriminately tucked upunderthefoolscappaperoftheCircumlocutionOffice.

NumbersofpeoplewerelostintheCircumlocutionOffice.Unfortunateswithwrongs,orwithprojectsforthegeneralwelfare(andtheyhadbetterhavehadwrongsatfirst,thanhavetakenthatbitterEnglishrecipeforcertainlygettingthem),whoinslowlapseoftimeandagonyhadpassedsafelythroughotherpublic departments; who, according to rule, had been bullied in this,overreached by that, and evaded by the other; got referred at last to theCircumlocutionOffice, and never reappeared in the light of day.Boards satupon them, secretaries minuted upon them, commissioners gabbled aboutthem,clerksregistered,entered,checked,andtickedthemoff,andtheymeltedaway. In short, all the business of the country went through theCircumlocutionOffice,except thebusiness thatnevercameoutof it;and itsnamewasLegion.

Sometimes, angry spirits attacked the Circumlocution Office. Sometimes,parliamentaryquestionswereaskedaboutit,andevenparliamentarymotionsmadeorthreatenedaboutitbydemagoguessolowandignorantastoholdthattherealrecipeofgovernmentwas,Howtodoit.Thenwouldthenoblelord,orright honourable gentleman, in whose department it was to defend theCircumlocution Office, put an orange in his pocket, and make a regularfielddayoftheoccasion.Thenwouldhecomedowntothathousewithaslapuponthetable,andmeet thehonourablegentlemanfoot tofoot.Thenwouldhebe there to tell thathonourablegentleman that theCircumlocutionOfficenot onlywas blameless in thismatter, butwas commendable in thismatter,wasextollabletotheskies inthismatter.Thenwouldhebetheretotell thathonourablegentlemanthat,althoughtheCircumlocutionOfficewasinvariablyrightandwhollyright,itneverwassorightasinthismatter.Thenwouldhebethere to tell that honourable gentleman that itwould have beenmore to hishonour,more to his credit,more to his good taste,more to his good sense,moretohalfthedictionaryofcommonplaces,ifhehadlefttheCircumlocutionOfficealone,andneverapproachedthismatter.Thenwouldhekeeponeeyeupon a coach or crammer from theCircumlocutionOffice sitting below thebar, and smash the honourable gentleman with the Circumlocution Officeaccount of this matter. And although one of two things always happened;namely,eitherthattheCircumlocutionOfficehadnothingtosayandsaidit,orthat it had something to say of which the noble lord, or right honourablegentleman,blunderedonehalfandforgottheother;theCircumlocutionOffice

wasalwaysvotedimmaculatebyanaccommodatingmajority.

Suchanurseryof statesmenhad theDepartmentbecome invirtueofa longcareerof thisnature, thatseveralsolemnlordshadattained thereputationofbeingquiteunearthlyprodigiesofbusiness,solelyfromhavingpractised,Hownottodoit,astheheadoftheCircumlocutionOffice.Astotheminorpriestsandacolytesof that temple, theresultofall thiswas that theystooddividedinto two classes, and, down to the junior messenger, either believed in theCircumlocutionOfficeasaheavenborninstitutionthathadanabsoluterighttodo whatever it liked; or took refuge in total infidelity, and considered it aflagrantnuisance.

The Barnacle family had for some time helped to administer theCircumlocution Office. The Tite Barnacle Branch, indeed, consideredthemselvesinageneralwayashavingvestedrightsinthatdirection,andtookitillifanyotherfamilyhadmuchtosaytoit.TheBarnacleswereaveryhighfamily, and a very large family. They were dispersed all over the publicoffices,andheldallsortsofpublicplaces.EitherthenationwasunderaloadofobligationtotheBarnacles,ortheBarnacleswereunderaloadofobligationtothenation.Itwasnotquiteunanimouslysettledwhich;theBarnacleshavingtheiropinion,thenationtheirs.

TheMrTiteBarnaclewhoat theperiodnowinquestionusuallycoachedorcrammed the statesmanat theheadof theCircumlocutionOffice,when thatnobleorrighthonourableindividualsatalittleuneasilyinhissaddlebyreasonof some vagabondmaking a tilt at him in a newspaper, wasmore flush ofblood thanmoney.As aBarnacle hehadhis place,whichwas a snug thingenough;andasaBarnaclehehadofcourseputinhissonBarnacleJuniorinthe office. But he had intermarriedwith a branch of the Stiltstalkings, whowere also better endowed in a sanguineous point of view thanwith real orpersonalproperty,andof thismarriage therehadbeen issue,Barnacle juniorand three young ladies. What with the patrician requirements of Barnaclejunior,thethreeyoungladies,MrsTiteBarnacleneeStiltstalking,andhimself,Mr Tite Barnacle found the intervals between quarter day and quarter dayrather longer than he could have desired; a circumstance which he alwaysattributed to the country's parsimony. For Mr Tite Barnacle, Mr ArthurClennammadehisfifthinquiryonedayattheCircumlocutionOffice;havingonpreviousoccasions awaited thatgentleman successively in ahall, aglasscase,awaitingroom,andafireproofpassagewheretheDepartmentseemedtokeepitswind.OnthisoccasionMrBarnaclewasnotengaged,ashehadbeenbefore,withthenobleprodigyattheheadoftheDepartment;butwasabsent.BarnacleJunior,however,wasannouncedasalesserstar,yetvisibleabovetheofficehorizon.

WithBarnacle junior,hesignifiedhisdesire toconfer;andfoundthatyounggentlemansingeing thecalvesofhis legsat theparental fire,andsupportinghis spine against the mantelshelf. It was a comfortable room, handsomelyfurnished in the higher officialmanner; an presenting stately suggestions oftheabsentBarnacle, in the thickcarpet, the leathercovereddesktositat, theleathercovered desk to stand at, the formidable easychair and hearthrug, theinterposed screen, the tornup papers, the dispatchboxes with little labelsstickingoutofthem,likemedicinebottlesordeadgame,thepervadingsmellofleatherandmahogany,andageneralbamboozlingairofHownottodoit.

ThepresentBarnacle,holdingMrClennam'scardinhishand,hadayouthfulaspect, and the fluffiest little whisker, perhaps, that ever was seen. Such adowny tipwasonhiscallowchin, thatheseemedhalf fledged likeayoungbird;andacompassionateobservermighthaveurgedthat,ifhehadnotsingedthecalvesofhislegs,hewouldhavediedofcold.Hehadasuperioreyeglassdanglingroundhisneck,butunfortunatelyhadsuchflatorbitstohiseyesandsuch limp little eyelids that itwouldn't stick inwhen he put it up, but kepttumblingoutagainsthiswaistcoatbuttonswithaclickthatdiscomposedhimverymuch.

'Oh, I say. Look here!My father's not in theway, andwon't be in thewaytoday,'saidBarnacleJunior.'IsthisanythingthatIcando?'

(Click!Eyeglassdown.BarnacleJuniorquitefrightenedandfeelingallroundhimself,butnotabletofindit.)

'You are very good,' said Arthur Clennam. 'I wish however to see MrBarnacle.'

'But I say. Look here! You haven't got any appointment, you know,' saidBarnacleJunior.

(Bythistimehehadfoundtheeyeglass,andputitupagain.)

'No,'saidArthurClennam.'ThatiswhatIwishtohave.'

'ButIsay.Lookhere!Isthispublicbusiness?'askedBarnaclejunior.

(Click!Eyeglass down again.Barnacle Junior in that state of search after itthatMrClennamfeltituselesstoreplyatpresent.)

'Is it,' saidBarnacle junior, takingheedofhisvisitor'sbrownface, 'anythingaboutTonnageorthatsortofthing?'

(Pausingforareply,heopenedhisrighteyewithhishand,andstuckhisglassinit,inthatinflammatorymannerthathiseyebeganwateringdreadfully.)

'No,'saidArthur,'itisnothingabouttonnage.'

'Thenlookhere.Isitprivatebusiness?'

'Ireallyamnotsure.ItrelatestoaMrDorrit.'

'Lookhere,Itellyouwhat!Youhadbettercallatourhouse,ifyouaregoingthatway.Twentyfour,MewsStreet,GrosvenorSquare.Myfather'sgotaslighttouchofthegout,andiskeptathomebyit.'

(ThemisguidedyoungBarnacleevidentlygoingblindonhiseyeglassside,butashamedtomakeanyfurtheralterationinhispainfularrangements.)

'Thank you. I will call there now. Goodmorning.' Young Barnacle seemeddiscomfitedatthis,asnothavingatallexpectedhimtogo.

'Youarequitesure,'saidBarnaclejunior,callingafterhimwhenhegottothedoor,unwillingwhollytorelinquishthebrightbusinessideahehadconceived;'thatit'snothingaboutTonnage?'

'Quitesure.'

Withsuchassurance,andratherwonderingwhatmighthavetakenplaceifitHAD been anything about tonnage, Mr Clennam withdrew to pursue hisinquiries.

MewsStreet,GrosvenorSquare,wasnotabsolutelyGrosvenorSquare itself,butitwasverynearit.Itwasahideouslittlestreetofdeadwall,stables,anddunghills,withloftsovercoachhousesinhabitedbycoachmen'sfamilies,whohad a passion for drying clothes and decorating their windowsills withminiature turnpikegates. The principal chimneysweep of that fashionablequarterlivedattheblindendofMewsStreet;andthesamecornercontainedan establishmentmuch frequented about earlymorning and twilight for thepurchaseofwinebottlesandkitchenstuff.Punch'sshowsusedto leanagainstthedeadwall inMewsStreet,while theirproprietorswerediningelsewhere;and the dogs of the neighbourhoodmade appointments tomeet in the samelocality.YetthereweretwoorthreesmallairlesshousesattheentranceendofMewsStreet,whichwentatenormousrentsonaccountof theirbeingabjecthangersontoafashionablesituation;andwheneveroneof thesefearful littlecoopswastobelet(whichseldomhappened,fortheywereingreatrequest),the house agent advertised it as a gentlemanly residence in the mostaristocraticpartoftown,inhabitedsolelybytheeliteofthebeaumonde.

IfagentlemanlyresidencecomingstrictlywithinthisnarrowmarginhadnotbeenessentialtothebloodoftheBarnacles,thisparticularbranchwouldhavehad a prettywide selection among, let us say, ten thousandhouses, offering

fifty times the accommodation for a third of the money. As it was, MrBarnacle, finding his gentlemanly residence extremely inconvenient andextremelydear,alwayslaidit,asapublicservant,atthedoorofthecountry,andadduceditasanotherinstanceofthecountry'sparsimony.

ArthurClennamcame to a squeezedhouse,with a ramshacklebowed front,littledingywindows,andalittledarkarealikeadampwaistcoatpocket,whichhe found to be number twentyfour,Mews Street, Grosvenor Square. To thesense of smell the house was like a sort of bottle filled with a strongdistillation ofMews; andwhen the footman opened the door, he seemed totakethestopperout.

ThefootmanwastotheGrosvenorSquarefootmen,whatthehousewastotheGrosvenorSquarehouses.Admirableinhisway,hiswaywasabackandabyeway.Hisgorgeousnesswasnotunmixedwithdirt;andbothincomplexionandconsistency he had suffered from the closeness of his pantry. A sallowflabbiness was upon him when he took the stopper out, and presented thebottletoMrClennam'snose.

'BesogoodastogivethatcardtoMrTiteBarnacle,andtosaythatIhavejustnowseentheyoungerMrBarnacle,whorecommendedmetocallhere.'

The footman (who had asmany large buttonswith theBarnacle crest uponthem on the flaps of his pockets, as if he were the family strong box, andcarried the plate and jewels aboutwith himbuttonedup) pondered over thecardalittle;thensaid,'Walkin.'

Itrequiredsomejudgmenttodoitwithoutbuttingtheinnerhalldooropen,andin theconsequentmentalconfusionandphysicaldarknessslippingdownthekitchenstairs.Thevisitor,however,broughthimselfupsafelyonthedoormat.

Still the footman said 'Walk in,' so the visitor followed him. At the innerhalldoor,anotherbottleseemedtobepresentedandanotherstoppertakenout.ThissecondvialappearedtobefilledwithconcentratedprovisionsandextractofSinkfromthepantry.Afteraskirmishinthenarrowpassage,occasionedbythe footman's opening the door of the dismal diningroom with confidence,finding some one there with consternation, and backing on the visitor withdisorder, thevisitorwasshutup,pendinghisannouncement, inaclosebackparlour. There he had an opportunity of refreshing himself with both thebottles at once, looking out at a low blinding wall three feet off, andspeculatingon the number ofBarnacle familieswithin the bills ofmortalitywholivedinsuchhutchesoftheirownfreeflunkeychoice.

MrBarnaclewouldseehim.Wouldhewalkupstairs?Hewould,andhedid;andinthedrawingroom,withhislegonarest,hefoundMrBarnaclehimself,

theexpressimageandpresentmentofHownottodoit.

Mr Barnacle dated from a better time, when the country was not soparsimoniousandtheCircumlocutionOfficewasnotsobadgered.Hewoundandwoundfoldsofwhitecravatroundhisneck,ashewoundandwoundfoldsof tape and paper round the neck of the country. Hiswristbands and collarwere oppressive; his voice and manner were oppressive. He had a largewatchchain and bunch of seals, a coat buttoned up to inconvenience, awaistcoatbuttoneduptoinconvenience,anunwrinkledpairoftrousers,astiffpair of boots. He was altogether splendid, massive, overpowering, andimpracticable.Heseemed tohavebeensitting forhisportrait toSirThomasLawrenceallthedaysofhislife.

'MrClennam?'saidMrBarnacle.'Beseated.'

MrClennambecameseated.

'Youhavecalledonme,Ibelieve,'saidMrBarnacle, 'at theCircumlocution'givingittheairofawordofaboutfiveandtwentysyllables'Office.'

'Ihavetakenthatliberty.'

MrBarnaclesolemnlybenthisheadaswhoshouldsay,'Idonotdenythatitisaliberty;proceedtotakeanotherliberty,andletmeknowyourbusiness.'

'Allowme to observe that I have been for someyears inChina, amquite astrangerathome,andhavenopersonalmotiveorinterestintheinquiryIamabouttomake.'

MrBarnacletappedhisfingersonthetable,and,asifhewerenowsittingforhisportrait toanewandstrangeartist,appeared tosay tohisvisitor, 'Ifyouwillbegoodenoughtotakemewithmypresentloftyexpression,Ishallfeelobliged.'

'IhavefoundadebtorintheMarshalseaPrisonofthenameofDorrit,whohasbeen theremanyyears. Iwish to investigatehisconfusedaffairssofaras toascertainwhetheritmaynotbepossible,afterthislapseoftime,toamelioratehisunhappycondition.ThenameofMrTiteBarnaclehasbeenmentionedtomeasrepresentingsomehighlyinfluentialinterestamonghiscreditors.AmIcorrectlyinformed?'

It being one of the principles of the Circumlocution Office never, on anyaccount whatever, to give a straightforward answer, Mr Barnacle said,'Possibly.'

'OnbehalfoftheCrown,mayIask,orasprivateindividual?'

'TheCircumlocutionDepartment,sir,'MrBarnaclereplied,'mayhavepossiblyrecommendedpossiblyIcannotsaythatsomepublicclaimagainsttheinsolventestate of a firm or copartnership to which this person may have belonged,should be enforced. The question may have been, in the course of officialbusiness,referredtotheCircumlocutionDepartmentforitsconsideration.TheDepartmentmayhaveeitheroriginated,or confirmed, aMinutemaking thatrecommendation.'

'Iassumethistobethecase,then.'

'TheCircumlocutionDepartment,'saidMrBarnacle,'isnotresponsibleforanygentleman'sassumptions.'

'MayIinquirehowIcanobtainofficialinformationastotherealstateofthecase?'

'Itiscompetent,'saidMrBarnacle, 'toanymemberofthePublic,'mentioningthat obscurebodywith reluctance, as his natural enemy, 'tomemorialise theCircumlocutionDepartment.Suchformalitiesasarerequiredtobeobservedinso doing, may be known on application to the proper branch of thatDepartment.'

'Whichistheproperbranch?'

'Imust referyou,' returnedMrBarnacle, ringing thebell, 'to theDepartmentitselfforaformalanswertothatinquiry.'

'Excusemymentioning'

'TheDepartmentisaccessibletothePublic,'MrBarnaclewasalwayscheckeda little by that word of impertinent signification, 'if thePublic approaches itaccordingtotheofficialforms;ifthePublicdoesnotapproachitaccordingtotheofficialforms,thePublichasitselftoblame.'

MrBarnaclemadehimaseverebow,asawoundedmanoffamily,awoundedmanofplace,andawoundedmanofagentlemanlyresidence,allrolledintoone;andhemadeMrBarnacleabow,andwasshutoutintoMewsStreetbytheflabbyfootman.

Havinggottothispass,heresolvedasanexerciseinperseverance,tobetakehimselfagaintotheCircumlocutionOffice,andtrywhatsatisfactionhecouldgetthere.SohewentbacktotheCircumlocutionOffice,andoncemoresentuphiscardtoBarnaclejuniorbyamessengerwhotookitveryillindeedthatheshouldcomebackagain,andwhowaseatingmashedpotatoesandgravybehindapartitionbythehallfire.

Hewas readmitted to thepresenceofBarnacle junior, and found thatyounggentleman singeing his knees now, and gaping his weary way on to fouro'clock.'Isay.Lookhere.Yousticktousinadevilofamanner,'SaidBarnaclejunior,lookingoverhisshoulder.

'Iwanttoknow'

'Lookhere.Uponmysoulyoumustn'tcomeintotheplacesayingyouwanttoknow,youknow,'remonstratedBarnaclejunior, turningaboutandputtinguptheeyeglass.

'I want to know,' said Arthur Clennam, who had made up his mind topersistenceinoneshortformofwords,'theprecisenatureoftheclaimoftheCrownagainstaprisonerfordebt,namedDorrit.'

'Isay.Lookhere.Youreallyaregoingitatagreatpace,youknow.Egad,youhaven'tgotanappointment,'saidBarnaclejunior,asifthethingweregrowingserious.

'Iwanttoknow,'saidArthur,andrepeatedhiscase.

Barnaclejuniorstaredathimuntilhiseyeglassfellout,andthenputitinagainandstaredathimuntilitfelloutagain.'Youhavenorighttocomethissortofmove,'hethenobservedwiththegreatestweakness.'Lookhere.Whatdoyoumean?Youtoldmeyoudidn'tknowwhetheritwaspublicbusinessornot.'

'I have now ascertained that it is public business,' returned the suitor, 'and Iwanttoknow'andagainrepeatedhismonotonousinquiry.

ItseffectuponyoungBarnaclewastomakehimrepeatinadefencelessway,'Lookhere!UponmySOULyoumustn'tcomeintotheplacesayingyouwanttoknow,youknow!'TheeffectofthatuponArthurClennamwastomakehimrepeathisinquiryinexactlythesamewordsandtoneasbefore.TheeffectofthatuponyoungBarnaclewas tomakehimawonderful spectacleof failureandhelplessness.

'Well, I tell you what. Look here. You had better try the SecretarialDepartment,'hesaidatlast,sidlingtothebellandringingit.'Jenkinson,'tothemashedpotatoesmessenger,'MrWobbler!'

ArthurClennam,whonowfeltthathehaddevotedhimselftothestormingofthe Circumlocution Office, and must go through with it, accompanied themessengertoanotherfloorofthebuilding,wherethatfunctionarypointedoutMr Wobbler's room. He entered that apartment, and found two gentlemensitting face to face at a large and easy desk, one ofwhomwas polishing agunbarrel on his pockethandkerchief, while the other was spreading

marmaladeonbreadwithapaperknife.

'MrWobbler?'inquiredthesuitor.

Bothgentlemenglancedathim,andseemedsurprisedathisassurance.

'So hewent,' said the gentlemanwith the gunbarrel,whowas an extremelydeliberatespeaker,'downtohiscousin'splace,andtooktheDogwithhimbyrail. Inestimable Dog. Flew at the porter fellow when he was put into thedogbox, and flew at the guard when he was taken out. He got halfadozenfellowsintoaBarn,andagoodsupplyofRats,andtimedtheDog.FindingtheDogable todo it immensely,made thematch, andheavilybacked theDog.Whenthematchcameoff,somedevilofafellowwasboughtover,Sir,Dogwasmadedrunk,Dog'smasterwascleanedout.'

'MrWobbler?'inquiredthesuitor.

Thegentlemanwhowas spreading themarmalade returned,without lookingupfromthatoccupation,'WhatdidhecalltheDog?'

'CalledhimLovely,' said theothergentleman. 'Said theDogwas theperfectpicture of the old aunt from whom he had expectations. Found himparticularlylikeherwhenhocussed.'

'MrWobbler?'saidthesuitor.

Both gentlemen laughed for some time. The gentleman with the gunbarrel,considering it, on inspection, in a satisfactory state, referred it to the other;receivingconfirmationofhisviews,hefitteditintoitsplaceinthecasebeforehim,andtookoutthestockandpolishedthat,softlywhistling.

'MrWobbler?'saidthesuitor.

'What'sthematter?'thensaidMrWobbler,withhismouthfull.

'I want to know' andArthur Clennam againmechanically set forthwhat hewantedtoknow.

'Can'tinformyou,'observedMrWobbler,apparentlytohislunch.'Neverheardofit.Nothingatalltodowithit.BettertryMrClive,seconddoorontheleftinthenextpassage.'

'Perhapshewillgivemethesameanswer.'

'Verylikely.Don'tknowanythingaboutit,'saidMrWobbler.

The suitor turnedawayandhad left the room,when thegentlemanwith the

guncalledout'Mister!Hallo!'

Helookedinagain.

'Shut the door after you.You're letting in a devil of a draught here!'A fewstepsbroughthim to theseconddooron the left in thenextpassage. In thatroomhefoundthreegentlemen;numberonedoingnothingparticular,numbertwo doing nothing particular, number three doing nothing particular. Theyseemed,however, tobemoredirectlyconcerned than theothershadbeen inthe effective execution of the great principle of the office, as there was anawfulinnerapartmentwithadoubledoor,inwhichtheCircumlocutionSagesappearedtobeassembledincouncil,andoutofwhichtherewasanimposingcoming of papers, and into which there was an imposing going of papers,almost constantly; wherein another gentleman, number four, was the activeinstrument.

'Iwant toknow,' saidArthurClennam,andagain statedhis case in the samebarrelorganway.Asnumberonereferredhimtonumbertwo,andasnumbertworeferredhimtonumberthree,hehadoccasiontostateitthreetimesbeforetheyallreferredhimtonumberfour,towhomhestateditagain.

Number four was a vivacious, welllooking, welldressed, agreeable youngfellowhewasaBarnacle,buton themoresprightlysideof thefamilyandhesaidinaneasyway,'Oh!youhadbetternotbotheryourselfaboutit,Ithink.'

'Notbothermyselfaboutit?'

'No!Irecommendyounottobotheryourselfaboutit.'

Thiswas such anewpoint of view thatArthurClennam foundhimself at alosshowtoreceiveit.

'Youcanifyoulike.Icangiveyouplentyofformstofillup.Lotsof'emhere.Youcanhaveadozenifyoulike.Butyou'llnevergoonwithit,'saidnumberfour.

'Would itbesuchhopelesswork?Excuseme;Iamastranger inEngland.' 'Idon't say itwouldbe hopeless,' returnednumber four,with a frank smile. 'Idon't express an opinion about that; I only express an opinion about you. Idon'tthinkyou'dgoonwithit.However,ofcourse,youcandoasyoulike.Isupposetherewasafailureintheperformanceofacontract,orsomethingofthatkind,wasthere?'

'Ireallydon'tknow.'

'Well! That you can find out. Then you'll find out what Department thecontractwasin,andthenyou'llfindoutallaboutitthere.'

'Ibegyourpardon.HowshallIfindout?'

'Why, you'llyou'll ask till they tell you. Then you'll memorialise thatDepartment (according to regular forms which you'll find out) for leave tomemorialisethisDepartment.Ifyougetit(whichyoumayafteratime),thatmemorial must be entered in that Department, sent to be registered in thisDepartment, sent back to be signed by that Department, sent back to becountersignedbythisDepartment,andthenitwillbegintoberegularlybeforethat Department. You'll find out when the business passes through each ofthesestagesbyaskingatbothDepartmentstilltheytellyou.'

'Butsurelythisisnotthewaytodothebusiness,'ArthurClennamcouldnothelpsaying.

ThisairyyoungBarnaclewasquiteentertainedbyhissimplicityinsupposingfor amoment that itwas.This light inhandyoungBarnacleknewperfectlythatitwasnot.ThistouchandgoyoungBarnaclehad'gotup'theDepartmentinaprivatesecretaryship, thathemightbereadyforany littlebitof fat thatcame to hand; and he fully understood the Department to be apoliticodiplomatic hocus pocus piece ofmachinery for the assistance of thenobs inkeepingoff thesnobs.ThisdashingyoungBarnacle, inaword,waslikelytobecomeastatesman,andtomakeafigure.

'When the business is regularly before that Department, whatever it is,'pursuedthisbrightyoungBarnacle, 'thenyoucanwatchitfromtimetotimethrough that Department. When it comes regularly before this Department,thenyoumustwatch it fromtimeto timethroughthisDepartment.Weshallhavetoreferitrightandleft;andwhenwereferitanywhere,thenyou'llhavetolookitup.Whenitcomesbacktousatanytime,thenyouhadbetterlookUSup.Whenitsticksanywhere,you'llhavetotrytogiveitajog.WhenyouwritetoanotherDepartmentaboutit,andthentothisDepartmentaboutit,anddon't hear anything satisfactory about it, why then you had betterkeep onwriting.'

ArthurClennamlookedverydoubtfulindeed.'ButIamobligedtoyouatanyrate,'saidhe,'foryourpoliteness.'

'Notatall,'repliedthisengagingyoungBarnacle.'Trythething,andseehowyoulikeit.Itwillbeinyourpowertogiveitupatanytime,ifyoudon'tlikeit.Youhadbettertakealotofformsawaywithyou.Givehimalotofforms!'Withwhich instruction tonumber two, this sparklingyoungBarnacle tookafreshhandfulofpapersfromnumbersoneandthree,andcarriedthemintothe

sanctuarytooffertothepresidingIdoloftheCircumlocutionOffice.

ArthurClennamput his forms in his pocket gloomily enough, andwent hiswaydownthelongstonepassageandthelongstonestaircase.Hehadcometotheswingdoorsleadingintothestreet,andwaswaiting,notoverpatiently,fortwopeoplewhowerebetweenhimand themtopassoutand lethimfollow,whenthevoiceofoneof themstruckfamiliarlyonhisear.Helookedat thespeaker and recognised Mr Meagles. Mr Meagles was very red in thefaceredderthantravelcouldhavemadehimandcollaringashortmanwhowaswithhim,said,'comeout,yourascal,comeOut!'

Itwassuchanunexpectedhearing,anditwasalsosuchanunexpectedsighttoseeMrMeaglesburst theswingdoorsopen,andemerge into thestreetwiththe shortman,whowas of an unoffending appearance, that Clennam stoodstillforthemomentexchanginglooksofsurprisewiththeporter.Hefollowed,however,quickly;andsawMrMeaglesgoingdownthestreetwithhisenemyathisside.Hesooncameupwithhisoldtravellingcompanion,andtouchedhim on the back. The choleric face which Mr Meagles turned upon himsmoothedwhenhesawwhoitwas,andheputouthisfriendlyhand.

'Howareyou?' saidMrMeagles. 'Howd'yedo? Ihaveonly just comeoverfromabroad.Iamgladtoseeyou.'

'AndIamrejoicedtoseeyou.'

'Thank'ee.Thank'ee!'

'MrsMeaglesandyourdaughter?'

'Areaswellaspossible,'saidMrMeagles.'Ionlywishyouhadcomeuponmeinamoreprepossessingconditionastocoolness.'

Thoughitwasanythingbutahotday,MrMeagleswasinaheatedstatethatattractedtheattentionofthepassersby;moreparticularlyasheleanedhisbackagainstarailing,tookoffhishatandcravat,andheartilyrubbedhissteaminghead and face, and his reddened ears and neck,without the least regard forpublicopinion.

'Whew!' said Mr Meagles, dressing again. 'That's comfortable. Now I amcooler.'

'Youhavebeenruffled,MrMeagles.Whatisthematter?'

'Waitabit,andI'lltellyou.HaveyouleisureforaturninthePark?'

'Asmuchasyouplease.'

'Comealongthen.Ah!youmaywelllookathim.'HehappenedtohaveturnedhiseyestowardstheoffenderwhomMrMeagleshadsoangrilycollared.'He'ssomethingtolookat,thatfellowis.'

Hewasnotmuchtolookat,eitherinpointofsizeorinpointofdress;beingmerelyashort,square,practicallookingman,whosehairhadturnedgrey,andinwhosefaceandforeheadthereweredeeplinesofcogitation,whichlookedasthoughtheywerecarvedinhardwood.Hewasdressedindecentblack,alittlerusty,andhadtheappearanceofasagaciousmasterinsomehandicraft.Hehadaspectaclecase inhishand,whichhe turnedoverandoverwhilehewasthusinquestion,withacertainfreeuseofthethumbthatisneverseenbutinahandaccustomedtotools.

'Youkeepwith us,' saidMrMeagles, in a threateningkind ofWay, 'and I'llintroduceyoupresently.Nowthen!'

Clennamwonderedwithinhimself,as theytookthenearestwayto thePark,what this unknown (who complied in the gentlestmanner) could have beendoing. His appearance did not at all justify the suspicion that he had beendetected in designs on Mr Meagles's pockethandkerchief; nor had he anyappearanceofbeingquarrelsomeorviolent.Hewasaquiet,plain,steadyman;madenoattempttoescape;andseemedalittledepressed,butneitherashamednorrepentant.Ifhewereacriminaloffender,hemustsurelybeanincorrigiblehypocrite;andifhewerenooffender,whyshouldMrMeagleshavecollaredhim in the Circumlocution Office? He perceived that the man was not adifficulty in his own mind alone, but in Mr Meagles's too; for suchconversation as they had together on the short way to the Park was by nomeans well sustained, andMrMeagles's eye always wandered back to theman,evenwhenhespokeofsomethingverydifferent.

Atlengththeybeingamongthetrees,MrMeaglesstoppedshort,andsaid:

'Mr Clennam,will you dome the favour to look at thisman?His name isDoyce,DanielDoyce.Youwouldn'tsupposethismantobeanotoriousrascal;wouldyou?'

'I certainly should not.' Itwas really a disconcerting question,with themanthere.

'No.Youwouldnot.Iknowyouwouldnot.Youwouldn'tsupposehimtobeapublicoffender;wouldyou?'

'No.'

'No.Buthe is.Heisapublicoffender.Whathashebeenguiltyof?Murder,

manslaughter, arson, forgery, swindling, housebreaking, highway robbery,larceny,conspiracy,fraud?Whichshouldyousay,now?'

'I should say,' returned Arthur Clennam, observing a faint smile in DanielDoyce'sface,'notoneofthem.'

'Youareright,'saidMrMeagles.'Buthehasbeeningenious,andhehasbeentryingtoturnhisingenuitytohiscountry'sservice.Thatmakeshimapublicoffenderdirectly,sir.'

Arthurlookedatthemanhimself,whoonlyshookhishead.

'ThisDoyce,'saidMrMeagles, 'isasmithandengineer.He isnot ina largeway, but he iswell known as a very ingeniousman.Adozen years ago, heperfects an invention (involving a very curious secret process) of greatimportance to his country and his fellowcreatures. I won't say how muchmoneyitcosthim,orhowmanyyearsofhislifehehadbeenaboutit,buthebrought it to perfection a dozen years ago. Wasn't it a dozen?' said MrMeagles,addressingDoyce.'Heisthemostexasperatingmanintheworld;henevercomplains!'

'Yes.Ratherbetterthantwelveyearsago.'

'Ratherbetter?'saidMrMeagles,'youmeanratherworse.Well,MrClennam,headdresseshimselftotheGovernment.Themomentheaddresseshimselftothe Government, he becomes a public offender! Sir,' said Mr Meagles, indangerofmakinghimselfexcessivelyhotagain, 'heceasestobeaninnocentcitizen,andbecomesaculprit.

Heistreatedfromthatinstantasamanwhohasdonesomeinfernalaction.Heisaman tobe shirked,putoff,browbeaten, sneeredat,handedoverby thishighlyconnected young or old gentleman, to that highlyconnected young oroldgentleman,anddodgedbackagain;heisamanwithnorightsinhisowntime,orhisownproperty;amereoutlaw,whomit is justifiable togetridofanyhow;amantobewornoutbyallpossiblemeans.'

It was not so difficult to believe, after the morning's experience, as MrMeaglessupposed.

'Don'tstandthere,Doyce,turningyourspectaclecaseoverandover,'criedMrMeagles,'buttellMrClennamwhatyouconfessedtome.'

'Iundoubtedlywasmadetofeel,'saidtheinventor, 'asifIhadcommittedanoffence. In dancing attendance at the various offices, I was always treated,more or less, as if it was a very bad offence. I have frequently found itnecessary to reflect, for my own selfsupport, that I really had not done

anythingtobringmyselfintotheNewgateCalendar,butonlywantedtoeffectagreatsavingandagreatimprovement.'

'There!'saidMrMeagles. 'JudgewhetherIexaggerate.Nowyou'llbeabletobelievemewhenItellyoutherestofthecase.'

With this prelude, Mr Meagles went through the narrative; the establishednarrative,whichhasbecometiresome;thematterofcoursenarrativewhichweall know by heart. How, after interminable attendance and correspondence,afterinfiniteimpertinences,ignorances,andinsults,mylordsmadeaMinute,number three thousand fourhundredandseventytwo,allowing theculprit tomakecertaintrialsofhisinventionathisownexpense.

How the trials weremade in the presence of a board of six, of whom twoancientmembersweretooblindtoseeit,twootherancientmembersweretoodeaftohearit,oneotherancientmemberwastoolametogetnearit,andthefinalancientmemberwas toopigheaded to lookat it.Howthereweremoreyears;moreimpertinences,ignorances,andinsults.HowmylordsthenmadeaMinute,numberfivethousandonehundredandthree,wherebytheyresignedthebusinesstotheCircumlocutionOffice.HowtheCircumlocutionOffice,incourseoftime,tookupthebusinessasifitwereabrannewthingofyesterday,which had never been heard of before; muddled the business, addled thebusiness, tossed the business in a wet blanket. How the impertinences,ignorances,andinsultswentthroughthemultiplicationtable.Howtherewasareference of the invention to three Barnacles and a Stiltstalking, who knewnothingaboutit;intowhoseheadsnothingcouldbehammeredaboutit;whogot bored about it, and reported physical impossibilities about it. How theCircumlocutionOffice,inaMinute,numbereightthousandsevenhundredandforty, 'sawno reason to reverse thedecisionatwhichmy lordshadarrived.'HowtheCircumlocutionOffice,beingremindedthatmylordshadarrivedatnodecision,shelvedthebusiness.HowtherehadbeenafinalinterviewwiththeheadoftheCircumlocutionOfficethatverymorning,andhowtheBrazenHead had spoken, and had been, upon the whole, and under all thecircumstances, and looking at it from thevariouspoints of view, of opinionthatoneoftwocourseswastobepursuedinrespectofthebusiness:thatwastosay,eithertoleaveitaloneforevermore,ortobeginitalloveragain.

'Uponwhich,' saidMrMeagles, 'asapracticalman, I thenand there, in thatpresence,tookDoycebythecollar,andtoldhimitwasplaintomethathewasan infamous rascal and treasonable disturber of the government peace, andtookhimaway.Ibroughthimoutoftheofficedoorbythecollar,thattheveryportermightknowIwasapracticalmanwhoappreciatedtheofficialestimateofsuchcharacters;andhereweare!'

If thatairyyoungBarnaclehadbeenthere,hewouldhavefranklytold themperhaps that theCircumlocutionOfficehadachieved its function.ThatwhattheBarnacleshad todo,was tostickon to thenationalshipas longas theycould.Thattotrimtheship,lightentheship,cleantheship,wouldbetoknockthemoff; that theycouldbutbeknockedoffonce;and that if the shipwentdownwiththemyetstickingtoit,thatwastheship'slookout,andnottheirs.

'There!' saidMrMeagles, 'nowyou know all aboutDoyce.Except,which Iowndoes not improvemy state ofmind, that even nowyou don't hear himcomplain.'

'You must have great patience,' said Arthur Clennam, looking at him withsomewonder,'greatforbearance.'

'No,'hereturned,'Idon'tknowthatIhavemorethananotherman.'

'BytheLord,youhavemorethanIhave,though!'criedMrMeagles.

Doycesmiled,ashesaidtoClennam,'Yousee,myexperienceofthesethingsdoesnotbeginwithmyself.Ithasbeeninmywaytoknowalittleaboutthemfromtimeto time.Mine isnotaparticularcase. Iamnotworseused thanahundred others who have put themselves in the same positionthan all theothers,Iwasgoingtosay.'

'Idon'tknowthatIshouldfindthataconsolation,ifitweremycase;butIamverygladthatyoudo.'

'Understand me! I don't say,' he replied in his steady, planning way, andlookingintothedistancebeforehimasifhisgreyeyeweremeasuringit,'thatit's recompense for aman's toil and hope; but it's a certain sort of relief toknowthatImighthavecountedonthis.'

Hespokeinthatquietdeliberatemanner,andinthatundertone,whichisoftenobservable in mechanics who consider and adjust with great nicety. Itbelongedtohimlikehissupplenessofthumb,orhispeculiarwayoftiltinguphis hat at the back every now and then, as if he were contemplating somehalffinishedworkofhishandandthinkingaboutit.

'Disappointed?'hewenton,ashewalkedbetweenthemunderthetrees.'Yes.No doubt I am disappointed. Hurt? Yes. No doubt I am hurt. That's onlynatural.Butwhat Imeanwhen I say that peoplewhoput themselves in thesamepositionaremostlyusedinthesameway'

'InEngland,'saidMrMeagles.

'Oh!ofcourseImeaninEngland.Whentheytaketheirinventionsintoforeign

countries,that'squitedifferent.Andthat'sthereasonwhysomanygothere.'

MrMeaglesveryhotindeedagain.

'What I mean is, that however this comes to be the regular way of ourgovernment, it is its regular way. Have you ever heard of any projector orinventor who failed to find it all but inaccessible, and whom it did notdiscourageandilltreat?'

'IcannotsaythatIeverhave.'

'Haveyoueverknownittobebeforehandintheadoptionofanyusefulthing?Everknownittosetanexampleofanyusefulkind?'

'Iamagooddealolderthanmyfriendhere,'saidMrMeagles,'andI'llanswerthat.Never.'

'Butweallthreehaveknown,Iexpect,'saidtheinventor,'aprettymanycasesofitsfixeddeterminationtobemilesuponmiles,andyearsuponyears,behindtherestofus;andof itsbeingfoundoutpersisting in theuseof things longsuperseded,evenafterthebetterthingswerewellknownandgenerallytakenup?'

Theyallagreeduponthat.

'Well then,'saidDoyce,withasigh, 'asIknowwhatsuchametalwilldoatsuchatemperature,andsuchabodyundersuchapressure,soImayknow(ifIwill only consider), how these great lords and gentlemenwill certainly dealwithsuchamatterasmine.

Ihavenorighttobesurprised,withaheaduponmyshoulders,andmemoryinit,thatIfallintotherankswithallwhocamebeforeme.Ioughttohaveletitalone.Ihavehadwarningenough,Iamsure.'

Withthatheputuphisspectaclecase,andsaidtoArthur,'IfIdon'tcomplain,MrClennam, Ican feelgratitude;andIassureyou that I feel it towardsourmutual friend.Many's the day, andmany's theway inwhich he has backedme.'

'Stuffandnonsense,'saidMrMeagles.

ArthurcouldnotbutglanceatDanielDoyceintheensuingsilence.

Thoughitwasevidentlyinthegrainofhischaracter,andofhisrespectforhisowncase,thatheshouldabstainfromidlemurmuring,itwasevidentthathehadgrown theolder, the sterner, and thepoorer, forhis longendeavour.Hecouldnotbutthinkwhatablessedthingitwouldhavebeenforthisman,ifhe

hadtakenalessonfromthegentlemenwhoweresokindastotakeanation'saffairsincharge,andhadlearntHownottodoit.

MrMeagleswashotanddespondentforaboutfiveminutes,andthenbegantocoolandclearup.

'Come,come!'saidhe.'Weshallnotmakethisthebetterbybeinggrim.Wheredoyouthinkofgoing,Dan?'

'I shallgoback to the factory,' saidDan. 'Why then,we'llallgoback to thefactory, or walk in that direction,' returned Mr Meagles cheerfully. 'MrClennamwon'tbedeterredbyitsbeinginBleedingHeartYard.'

'BleedingHeartYard?'saidClennam.'Iwanttogothere.'

'Somuchthebetter,'criedMrMeagles.'Comealong!'

As theywentalong,certainlyoneof theparty,andprobablymore thanone,thoughtthatBleedingHeartYardwasnoinappropriatedestinationforamanwhohadbeeninofficialcorrespondencewithmylordsandtheBarnaclesandperhaps had amisgiving also that Britannia herselfmight come to look forlodgings inBleedingHeartYard some ugly day or other, if she overdid theCircumlocutionOffice.

CHAPTER11.

LetLoose

Alate,dullautumnnightwasclosinginupontheriverSaone.Thestream,likeasulliedlookingglassinagloomyplace,reflectedthecloudsheavily;andthelowbanks leanedoverhereand there, as if theywerehalf curious, andhalfafraid,toseetheirdarkeningpicturesinthewater.TheflatexpanseofcountryaboutChalonslayalongheavystreak,occasionallymadealittleraggedbyarow of poplar trees against the wrathful sunset. On the banks of the riverSaoneitwaswet,depressing,solitary;andthenightdeepenedfast.

OnemanslowlymovingontowardsChalonswastheonlyvisiblefigureinthelandscape. Cain might have looked as lonely and avoided. With an oldsheepskinknapsackathisback,andarough,unbarkedstickcutoutofsomewood inhishand;miry, footsore, his shoes andgaiters troddenout, hishairandbearduntrimmed;thecloakhecarriedoverhisshoulder,andtheclotheshewore,soddenwithwet;limpingalonginpainanddifficulty;helookedasif

the clouds were hurrying from him, as if the wail of the wind and theshuddering of the grasswere directed against him, as if the lowmysteriousplashing of the water murmured at him, as if the fitful autumn night weredisturbedbyhim.

He glanced here, and he glanced there, sullenly but shrinkingly; andsometimes stopped and turned about, and looked all round him. Then helimpedonagain,toilingandmuttering.

'Tothedevilwiththisplainthathasnoend!Tothedevilwiththesestonesthatcutlikeknives!Tothedevilwiththisdismaldarkness,wrappingitselfaboutonewithachill!Ihateyou!'

Andhewouldhavevisitedhishatreduponitallwiththescowlhethrewabouthim, if he could. He trudged a little further; and looking into the distancebeforehim,stoppedagain.'I,hungry,thirsty,weary.You,imbeciles,wherethelightsareyonder,eatinganddrinking,andwarmingyourselvesatfires!IwishIhadthesackingofyourtown;Iwouldrepayyou,mychildren!'

Buttheteethhesetatthetown,andthehandheshookatthetown,broughtthetownnonearer;andthemanwasyethungrier,andthirstier,andwearier,whenhisfeetwereonitsjaggedpavement,andhestoodlookingabouthim.

Therewasthehotelwithitsgateway,anditssavourysmellofcooking;therewasthecafewithitsbrightwindows,anditsrattlingofdominoes;therewasthe dyer's with its strips of red cloth on the doorposts; there was thesilversmith's with its earrings, and its offerings for altars; there was thetobaccodealer'swithitslivelygroupofsoldiercustomerscomingoutpipeinmouth;therewerethebadodoursofthetown,andtherainandtherefuseinthekennels,andthefaintlampsslungacrosstheroad,andthehugeDiligence,and itsmountainof luggage, and its six greyhorseswith their tails tiedup,gettingunderweighatthecoachoffice.Butnosmallcabaretforastraitenedtravellerbeingwithinsight,hehadtoseekoneroundthedarkcorner,wherethe cabbage leaves lay thickest, trodden about the public cistern at whichwomenhadnotyetleftoffdrawingwater.There,inthebackstreethefoundone,theBreakofDay.ThecurtainedwindowscloudedtheBreakofDay,butit seemed light and warm, and it announced in legible inscriptions withappropriatepictorialembellishmentofbilliardcueandball, thatat theBreakof Day one could play billiards; that there one could findmeat, drink, andlodgings,whetheronecameonhorseback,or cameon foot; and that it keptgoodwines,liqueurs,andbrandy.ThemanturnedthehandleoftheBreakofDaydoor,andlimpedin.

Hetouchedhisdiscolouredslouchedhat,ashecameinatthedoor,toafew

menwhooccupiedtheroom.Twowereplayingdominoesatoneofthelittletables;threeorfourwereseatedroundthestove,conversingastheysmoked;thebilliardtable in thecentrewas leftalonefor the time; the landladyof theDaybreak sat behind her little counter among her cloudy bottles of syrups,basketsofcakes,andleadendrainageforglasses,workingatherneedle.

Making hisway to an empty little table in a corner of the roombehind thestove,heputdownhisknapsackandhiscloakupontheground.Asheraisedhisheadfromstoopingtodoso,hefoundthelandladybesidehim.

'Onecanlodgeheretonight,madame?'

'Perfectly!'saidthelandladyinahigh,singsong,cheeryvoice.

'Good.Onecandinesupwhatyoupleasetocallit?'

'Ah, perfectly!' cried the landlady asbefore. 'Dispatch then,madame, if youplease.Somethingtoeat,asquicklyasyoucan;andsomewineatonce.Iamexhausted.'

'Itisverybadweather,monsieur,'saidthelandlady.

'Cursedweather.'

'Andaverylongroad.'

'Acursedroad.'

His hoarse voice failed him, and he rested his head upon his hands until abottle ofwinewas brought from the counter.Having filled and emptied hislittletumblertwice,andhavingbrokenoffanendfromthegreatloafthatwassetbeforehimwithhisclothandnapkin, soupplate, salt,pepper,andoil,herestedhisbackagainst thecornerofthewall,madeacouchofthebenchonwhichhesat,andbegantochewcrust,untilsuchtimeashisrepastshouldbeready.Therehadbeenthatmomentaryinterruptionofthetalkaboutthestove,and that temporary inattention to anddistraction fromone another,which isusually inseparable in such a company from the arrival of a stranger. It hadpassed over by this time; and themen had done glancing at him, andweretalkingagain.

'That'sthetruereason,'saidoneofthem,bringingastoryhehadbeentelling,toaclose,'that'sthetruereasonwhytheysaidthatthedevilwasletloose.'ThespeakerwasthetallSwissbelongingtothechurch,andhebroughtsomethingoftheauthorityofthechurchintothediscussionespeciallyasthedevilwasinquestion.

Thelandladyhavinggivenherdirectionsforthenewguest'sentertainmenttoher husband, who acted as cook to the Break of Day, had resumed herneedlework behind her counter. Shewas a smart, neat, bright littlewoman,withagooddealofcapandagooddealofstocking,andshestruckintotheconversationwithseveral laughingnodsofherhead,butwithout lookingupfromherwork.

'AhHeaven,then,'saidshe.'WhentheboatcameupfromLyons,andbroughtthenewsthat thedevilwasactually let looseatMarseilles,someflycatchersswallowedit.ButI?No,notI.'

'Madame,youarealwaysright,' returned the tallSwiss. 'Doubtlessyouwereenragedagainstthatman,madame?'

'Ay, yes, then!' cried the landlady, raising her eyes from her work, openingthemverywide,andtossingherheadononeside.'Naturally,yes.'

'Hewasabadsubject.'

'Hewasawickedwretch,'saidthelandlady,'andwellmeritedwhathehadthegoodfortunetoescape.Somuchtheworse.'

'Stay,madame! Let us see,' returned the Swiss, argumentatively turning hiscigarbetweenhislips.'Itmayhavebeenhisunfortunatedestiny.Hemayhavebeen the child of circumstances. It is always possible that he had, and has,goodinhimifonedidbutknowhowtofinditout.Philosophicalphilanthropyteaches'

The rest of the little knot about the stove murmured an objection to theintroductionofthatthreateningexpression.Eventhetwoplayersatdominoesglancedupfromtheirgame,asiftoprotestagainstphilosophicalphilanthropybeingbroughtbynameintotheBreakofDay.

'Hold there, you and your philanthropy,' cried the smiling landlady, noddingher headmore than ever. 'Listen then. I am awoman, I. I know nothing ofphilosophical philanthropy. But I know what I have seen, and what I havelookedinthefaceinthisworldhere,whereIfindmyself.AndItellyouthis,my friend, that there are people (men andwomen both, unfortunately)whohave no good in themnone. That there are people whom it is necessary todetestwithoutcompromise.That therearepeoplewhomustbedealtwithasenemiesofthehumanrace.Thattherearepeoplewhohavenohumanheart,andwhomustbecrushedlikesavagebeastsandclearedoutoftheway.Theyarebut few, Ihope;but Ihaveseen(in thisworldherewhereI findmyself,andevenat thelittleBreakofDay)that therearesuchpeople.AndIdonotdoubtthatthismanwhatevertheycallhim,Iforgethisnameisoneofthem.'

Thelandlady'slivelyspeechwasreceivedwithgreaterfavourattheBreakofDay, than it would have elicited from certain amiable whitewashers of theclassshesounreasonablyobjectedto,nearerGreatBritain.

'Myfaith!Ifyourphilosophicalphilanthropy,'saidthelandlady,puttingdownher work, and rising to take the stranger's soup from her husband, whoappearedwithitatasidedoor,'putsanybodyatthemercyofsuchpeoplebyholdingtermswiththematall,inwordsordeeds,orboth,takeitawayfromtheBreakofDay,foritisn'tworthasou.'

Assheplacedthesoupbeforetheguest,whochangedhisattitudetoasittingone,helookedherfullintheface,andhismoustachewentupunderhisnose,andhisnosecamedownoverhismoustache.

'Well!'saidthepreviousspeaker,'letuscomebacktooursubject.Leavingallthataside,gentlemen, itwasbecause themanwasacquittedonhis trial thatpeoplesaidatMarseillesthatthedevilwasletloose.Thatwashowthephrasebegantocirculate,andwhatitmeant;nothingmore.'

'Howdotheycallhim?'saidthelandlady.'Biraud,isitnot?'

'Rigaud,madame,'returnedthetallSwiss.

'Rigaud!Tobesure.'

The traveller's soupwas succeededbyadishofmeat, and thatby adishofvegetables.Heateallthatwasplacedbeforehim,emptiedhisbottleofwine,calledforaglassofrum,andsmokedhiscigarettewithhiscupofcoffee.Ashebecamerefreshed,hebecameoverbearing;andpatronisedthecompanyattheDaybreakincertainsmalltalkatwhichheassisted,asifhisconditionwerefarabovehisappearance.

Thecompanymighthavehadotherengagements,ortheymighthavefelttheirinferiority,butinanycasetheydispersedbydegrees,andnotbeingreplacedbyothercompany,lefttheirnewpatroninpossessionoftheBreakofDay.Thelandlordwasclinkingaboutinhiskitchen;thelandladywasquietatherwork;andtherefreshedtravellersatsmokingbythestove,warminghisraggedfeet.

'Pardonme,madamethatBiraud.'

'Rigaud,monsieur.'

'Rigaud.Pardonmeagainhascontractedyourdispleasure,how?'

The landlady,whohadbeenatonemoment thinkingwithinherself that thiswas a handsome man, at another moment that this was an illlooking man,

observed the nose coming down and themoustache going up, and stronglyinclinedtothelatterdecision.Rigaudwasacriminal,shesaid,whohadkilledhiswife.

'Ay,ay?Deathofmylife,that'sacriminalindeed.Buthowdoyouknowit?'

'Alltheworldknowsit.'

'Hah!Andyetheescapedjustice?'

'Monsieur,thelawcouldnotproveitagainsthimtoitssatisfaction.Sothelawsays.Nevertheless,alltheworldknowshedidit.Thepeopleknewitsowell,thattheytriedtotearhimtopieces.'

'Beingallinperfectaccordwiththeirownwives?'saidtheguest.

'Haha!'

The landlady of the Break of Day looked at him again, and felt almostconfirmed inher lastdecision.Hehada finehand, though, andhe turned itwith a great show.Shebeganoncemore to think that hewasnot illlookingafterall.

'Did you mention, madameor was it mentioned among the gentlemenwhatbecameofhim?'Thelandladyshookherhead;itbeingthefirstconversationalstageatwhichhervivaciousearnestnesshadceasedtonodit,keepingtimetowhatshesaid. Ithadbeenmentionedat theDaybreak,she remarked,on theauthorityof the journals, thathehadbeenkept inprison forhisownsafety.Howeverthatmightbe,hehadescapedhisdeserts;somuchtheworse.

Theguestsatlookingatherashesmokedouthisfinalcigarette,andasshesatwithherheadbentoverherwork,withanexpressionthatmighthaveresolvedherdoubts,andbroughthertoalastingconclusiononthesubjectofhisgoodorbadlooksifshehadseenit.Whenshedidlookup,theexpressionwasnotthere. The hand was smoothing his shaggymoustache. 'May one ask to beshowntobed,madame?'

Verywillingly,monsieur.Hola,myhusband!Myhusbandwouldconducthimupstairs.Therewasonetravellerthere,asleep,whohadgonetobedveryearlyindeed, being overpowered by fatigue; but itwas a large chamberwith twobedsinit,andspaceenoughfortwenty.ThisthelandladyoftheBreakofDaychirpingly explained, callingbetweenwhiles, 'Hola,myhusband!' out at thesidedoor.

Myhusbandansweredat length, 'It is I,mywife!'andpresentinghimself inhis cook's cap, lighted the traveller up a steep and narrow staircase; the

travellercarryinghisowncloakandknapsack,andbiddingthelandladygoodnight with a complimentary reference to the pleasure of seeing her againtomorrow.Itwasalargeroom,witharoughsplinteryfloor,unplasteredraftersoverhead,andtwobedsteadsonoppositesides.Here 'myhusband'putdownthecandlehecarried,andwithasidelonglookathisgueststoopingoverhisknapsack,grufflygavehimtheinstruction,'Thebedtotheright!'andlefthimtohis repose.The landlord,whetherhewasagoodorabadphysiognomist,hadfullymadeuphismindthattheguestwasanilllookingfellow.

The guest looked contemptuously at the clean coarse bedding prepared forhim,and,sittingdownontherushchairatthebedside,drewhismoneyoutofhispocket,andtolditoverinhishand.'Onemusteat,'hemutteredtohimself,'butbyHeavenImusteatatthecostofsomeothermantomorrow!'

Ashesatpondering,andmechanicallyweighinghismoney inhispalm, thedeep breathing of the traveller in the other bed fell so regularly upon hishearing that it attracted his eyes in that direction. Themanwas covered upwarm,andhaddrawnthewhitecurtainathishead,so thathecouldbeonlyheard,notseen.Butthedeepregularbreathing,stillgoingonwhiletheotherwas takingoffhisworn shoes andgaiters, and still continuingwhenhehadlaid aside his coat and cravat, became at length a strong provocative tocuriosity,andincentivetogetaglimpseofthesleeper'sface.

Thewakingtraveller,therefore,stolealittlenearer,andyetalittlenearer,anda little nearer to the sleeping traveller's bed, until he stood close beside it.Even thenhecouldnotseehis face, forhehaddrawnthesheetover it.Theregular breathing still continuing, he put his smooth white hand (such atreacheroushand it looked, as itwent creeping fromhim!) to the sheet, andgentlylifteditaway.

'Deathofmysoul!'hewhispered,fallingback,'here'sCavalletto!'

The little Italian,previously influenced inhis sleep,perhaps,by the stealthypresenceathisbedside,stoppedinhisregularbreathing,andwithalongdeeprespirationopenedhiseyes.Atfirsttheywerenotawake,thoughopen.Helayforsomesecondslookingplacidlyathisoldprisoncompanion,andthen,allatonce,withacryofsurpriseandalarm,sprangoutofbed.

'Hush!What'sthematter?Keepquiet!It'sI.Youknowme?'criedtheother,inasuppressedvoice.

But John Baptist, widely staring, muttering a number of invocations andejaculations, tremblinglybacking into a corner, slippingonhis trousers, andtyinghiscoatbythetwosleevesroundhisneck,manifestedanunmistakabledesire toescapebythedoorrather thanrenewtheacquaintance.Seeingthis,

hisoldprisoncomradefellbackuponthedoor,andsethisshouldersagainstit.

'Cavalletto!Wake,boy!Rubyoureyesandlookatme.Notthenameyouusedtocallmedon'tusethatLagnier,sayLagnier!'

JohnBaptist, staringathimwitheyesopened to theirutmostwidth,madeanumberofthosenational,backhandedshakesoftherightforefingerintheair,as if he were resolved on negativing beforehand everything that the othercouldpossiblyadvanceduringthewholetermofhislife.

'Cavalletto!Givemeyourhand.YouknowLagnier,thegentleman.Touchthehandofagentleman!'

Submittinghimself to theold toneofcondescendingauthority, JohnBaptist,notatallsteadyonhislegsasyet,advancedandputhishandinhispatron's.MonsieurLagnierlaughed;andhavinggivenitasqueeze,tosseditupandletitgo.

'Thenyouwere'falteredJohnBaptist.

'Notshaved?No.Seehere!'criedLagnier,givinghisheadatwirl;'astightonasyourown.'

John Baptist, with a slight shiver, looked all round the room as if to recallwherehewas.Hispatrontookthatopportunityofturningthekeyinthedoor,andthensatdownuponhisbed.

'Look!' he said, holding up his shoes and gaiters. 'That's a poor trim for agentleman,you'llsay.Nomatter,youshallseehowSoonI'llmendit.Comeandsitdown.Takeyouroldplace!'

John Baptist, looking anything but reassured, sat down on the floor at thebedside,keepinghiseyesuponhispatronallthetime.

'That'swell!'criedLagnier. 'Nowwemightbeintheoldinfernalholeagain,hey?Howlonghaveyoubeenout?'

'Twodaysafteryou,mymaster.'

'Howdoyoucomehere?'

'Iwascautionednottostaythere,andsoIleftthetownatonce,andsincethenIhavechangedabout. IhavebeendoingoddsandendsatAvignon,atPontEsprit, atLyons; upon theRhone, upon theSaone.'Ashe spoke, he rapidlymappedtheplacesoutwithhissunburnthanduponthefloor.'Andwhereareyougoing?'

'Going,mymaster?'

'Ay!'

JohnBaptistseemedtodesiretoevadethequestionwithoutknowinghow.'ByBacchus!' he said at last, as if he were forced to the admission, 'I havesometimeshadathoughtofgoingtoParis,andperhapstoEngland.'

'Cavalletto. This is in confidence. I also am going to Paris and perhaps toEngland.We'llgotogether.'

The little man nodded his head, and showed his teeth; and yet seemed notquiteconvincedthatitwasasurpassinglydesirablearrangement.

'We'll go together,' repeated Lagnier. 'You shall see how soon I will forcemyselftoberecognisedasagentleman,andyoushallprofitbyit.Itisagreed?Areweone?'

'Oh,surely,surely!'saidthelittleman.

'Then you shall hear before I sleepand in sixwords, for I want sleephow Iappearbeforeyou,I,Lagnier.Rememberthat.Nottheother.'

'Altro,altro!NotRi'BeforeJohnBaptistcouldfinishthename,hiscomradehadgothishandunderhischinandfiercelyshutuphismouth.

'Death!whatareyoudoing?Doyouwantmetobetrampleduponandstoned?Do YOU want to be trampled upon and stoned? You would be. You don'timaginethattheywouldsetuponme,andletmyprisonchumgo?Don'tthinkit!'Therewasanexpressioninhisfaceashereleasedhisgripofhisfriend'sjaw,fromwhichhisfriendinferredthatifthecourseofeventsreallycametoanystoningand trampling,MonsieurLagnierwouldsodistinguishhimwithhisnoticeastoensurehishavinghisfullshareofit.Herememberedwhatacosmopolitan gentleman Monsieur Lagnier was, and how few weakdistinctionshemade.

'Iamaman,'saidMonsieurLagnier,'whomsocietyhasdeeplywrongedsinceyou last sawme.Youknow that I amsensitive andbrave, and that it ismycharactertogovern.Howhassocietyrespectedthosequalitiesinme?Ihavebeenshriekedat through thestreets. Ihavebeenguarded through thestreetsagainstmen,andespeciallywomen, runningatmearmedwithanyweaponstheycouldlaytheirhandson.Ihavelaininprisonforsecurity,withtheplaceofmyconfinementkeptasecret,lestIshouldbetornoutofitandfelledbyahundredblows.IhavebeencartedoutofMarseillesinthedeadofnight,andcarriedleaguesawayfromitpackedinstraw.Ithasnotbeensafeformetogonear my house; and, with a beggar's pittance in my pocket, I have walked

through vilemud andweather ever since, until my feet are crippledlook atthem!Sucharethehumiliationsthatsocietyhasinflicteduponme,possessingthe qualities I have mentioned, and which you know me to possess. Butsocietyshallpayforit.'

Allthishesaidinhiscompanion'sear,andwithhishandbeforehislips.

'Even here,' he went on in the sameway, 'even in this mean drinkingshop,societypursuesme.Madamedefamesme,andherguestsdefameme.I,too,agentlemanwithmanners and accomplishments to strike them dead! But thewrongssocietyhasheapeduponmearetreasuredinthisbreast.'

To all of which John Baptist, listening attentively to the suppressed hoarsevoice,saidfromtimetotime,'Surely,surely!'tossinghisheadandshuttinghiseyes, as if there were the clearest case against society that perfect candourcouldmakeout.

'Putmy shoes there,' continuedLagnier. 'Hangmycloak todry thereby thedoor.Takemyhat.'Heobeyedeach instruction,as itwasgiven. 'Andthis isthebedtowhichsocietyconsignsme,isit?Hah.Verywell!'

As he stretched out his length upon it, with a ragged handkerchief boundround his wicked head, and only his wicked head showing above thebedclothes, John Baptist was rather strongly reminded of what had so verynearlyhappenedtopreventthemoustachefromanymoregoingupasitdid,andthenosefromanymorecomingdownasitdid.

'Shakenoutofdestiny'sdiceboxagainintoyourcompany,eh?ByHeaven!Somuch thebetter for you.You'll profit by it. I shall need a long rest.Letmesleepinthemorning.'

JohnBaptistrepliedthatheshouldsleepaslongashewould,andwishinghima happy night, put out the candle. One might have Supposed that the nextproceedingof theItalianwouldhavebeen toundress;buthedidexactly thereverse,anddressedhimselffromheadtofoot,savinghisshoes.Whenhehadsodone,helaydownuponhisbedwithsomeofitscoveringsoverhim,andhiscoatstilltiedroundhisneck,togetthroughthenight.

Whenhestartedup,theGodfatherBreakofDaywaspeepingatitsnamesake.He rose, took his shoes in his hand, turned the key in the door with greatcaution,andcreptdownstairs.Nothingwasastirtherebutthesmellofcoffee,wine,tobacco,andsyrups;andmadame'slittlecounterlookedghastlyenough.But he had paidmadame his little note at it over night, and wanted to seenobodywanted nothing but to get on his shoes and his knapsack, open the

door,andrunaway.

Heprosperedinhisobject.Nomovementorvoicewasheardwhenheopenedthedoor;nowickedheadtiedupinaraggedhandkerchief lookedoutof theupperwindow.Whenthesunhadraisedhisfulldiscabovetheflatlineofthehorizon,andwasstrikingfireoutofthelongmuddyvistaofpavedroadwithits weary avenue of little trees, a black speck moved along the road andsplashedamongtheflamingpoolsofrainwater,whichblackspeckwasJohnBaptistCavallettorunningawayfromhispatron.

CHAPTER12.

BleedingHeartYard

InLondonitself,thoughintheoldrusticroadtowardsasuburbofnotewhereinthedaysofWilliamShakespeare,authorandstageplayer,therewereRoyalhuntingseatshowbeitnosportislefttherenowbutforhuntersofmenBleedingHeartYardwastobefound;aplacemuchchangedinfeatureandinfortune,yetwithsomerelishofancientgreatnessaboutit.Twoorthreemightystacksofchimneys,andafewlargedarkroomswhichhadescapedbeingwalledandsubdivided out of the recognition of their old proportions, gave the Yard acharacter. It was inhabited by poor people, who set up their rest among itsfadedglories,asArabsofthedesertpitchtheirtentsamongthefallenstonesof thePyramids; but therewas a family sentimental feelingprevalent in theYard,thatithadacharacter.

Asif theaspiringcityhadbecomepuffedupin theverygroundonwhichitstood,thegroundhadsorisenaboutBleedingHeartYardthatyougotintoitdownaflightofstepswhichformednopartoftheoriginalapproach,andgotoutofitbyalowgatewayintoamazeofshabbystreets,whichwentaboutandabout,tortuouslyascendingtothelevelagain.AtthisendoftheYardandoverthe gateway, was the factory of Daniel Doyce, often heavily beating like ableedingheartofiron,withtheclinkofmetaluponmetal.TheopinionoftheYardwasdividedrespectingthederivationofitsname.Themorepracticalofits inmates abided by the tradition of a murder; the gentler and moreimaginative inhabitants, including thewholeof the tender sex,were loyal tothelegendofayoungladyofformertimescloselyimprisonedinherchamberbyacruelfatherforremainingtruetoherowntruelove,andrefusingtomarrythesuitorhechoseforher.Thelegendrelatedhowthattheyoungladyusedtobe seen up at her window behind the bars, murmuring a lovelorn song of

whichtheburdenwas, 'BleedingHeart,BleedingHeart,bleedingaway,'untilshe died. It was objected by the murderous party that this Refrain wasnotoriously the invention of a tambourworker, a spinster and romantic, stilllodging in the Yard. But, forasmuch as all favourite legends must beassociated with the affections, and as many more people fall in love thancommitmurderwhich itmaybehoped,howsoeverbadweare,willcontinueuntiltheendoftheworldtobethedispensationunderwhichweshalllivetheBleeding Heart, Bleeding Heart, bleeding away story, carried the day by agreat majority. Neither party would listen to the antiquaries who deliveredlearned lectures in the neighbourhood, showing the BleedingHeart to havebeentheheraldiccognisanceoftheoldfamilytowhomthepropertyhadoncebelonged.And, considering that thehourglass they turned fromyear toyearwasfilledwiththeearthiestandcoarsestsand,theBleedingHeartYardershadreasonenough forobjecting tobedespoiledof theone littlegoldengrainofpoetrythatsparkledinit.

DownintotheYard,bywayof thesteps,cameDanielDoyce,MrMeagles,andClennam.Passingalong theYard,andbetween theopendoorsoneitherhand, all abundantly garnishedwith light children nursing heavy ones, theyarrivedatitsoppositeboundary,thegateway.HereArthurClennamstoppedtolookabouthimforthedomicileofPlornish,plasterer,whosename,accordingtothecustomofLondoners,DanielDoycehadneverseenorheardoftothathour.

It was plain enough, nevertheless, as Little Dorrit had said; over alimesplashedgatewayinthecorner,withinwhichPlornishkeptaladderandabarrelortwo.ThelasthouseinBleedingHeartYardwhichshehaddescribedas his place of habitation,was a large house, let off to various tenants; butPlornishingeniouslyhintedthathelivedintheparlour,bymeansofapaintedhandunder his name, the forefinger ofwhichhand (onwhich the artist haddepicteda ringandamostelaboratenailof thegenteelest form) referredallinquirerstothatapartment.

Parting from his companions, after arranging another meeting with MrMeagles,Clennamwentaloneintotheentry,andknockedwithhisknucklesattheparlourdoor.Itwasopenedpresentlybyawomanwithachildinherarms,whose unoccupied handwas hastily rearranging the upper part of her dress.ThiswasMrsPlornish,andthismaternalactionwastheactionofMrsPlornishduringalargepartofherwakingexistence.

WasMrPlornishathome?'Well,sir,'saidMrsPlornish,acivilwoman,'nottodeceiveyou,he'sgonetolookforajob.'

'Not to deceiveyou'was amethodof speechwithMrsPlornish.Shewould

deceiveyou,underanycircumstances,aslittleasmightbe;butshehadatrickofansweringinthisprovisionalform.

'Doyouthinkhewillbebacksoon,ifIwaitforhim?'

'Ihavebeenexpectinghim,'saidMrsPlornish,'thishalfanhour,atanyminuteoftime.Walkin,sir.'Arthurenteredtheratherdarkandcloseparlour(thoughitwasloftytoo),andsatdowninthechairsheplacedforhim.

'Not todeceiveyou, sir, Inotice it,' saidMrsPlornish, 'and I take itkindofyou.'

Hewasatalosstounderstandwhatshemeant;andbyexpressingasmuchinhislooks,elicitedherexplanation.

'Itain'tmanythatcomesintoapoorplace,thatdeemsitworththeirwhiletomovetheirhats,' saidMrsPlornish. 'Butpeople thinkmoreof it thanpeoplethink.'

Clennamreturned,withanuncomfortablefeelinginsoveryslightacourtesybeingunusual,Wasthatall!Andstoopingdowntopinchthecheekofanotheryoungchildwhowassittingonthefloor,staringathim,askedMrsPlornishhowoldthatfineboywas?

'Fouryear just turned,sir,' saidMrsPlornish. 'HeISafine little fellow,ain'the,sir?Butthisoneisrathersickly.'Shetenderlyhushedthebabyinherarms,asshesaidit.'Youwouldn'tmindmyaskingifithappenedtobeajobasyouwascomeabout,sir,wouldyou?'askedMrsPlornishwistfully.

She asked it so anxiously, that if he had been in possession of any kind oftenement,hewouldhavehaditplasteredafootdeeprather thananswerNo.Buthewasobliged toanswerNo;andhesawashadeofdisappointmentonherface,asshecheckedasigh,andlookedatthelowfire.Thenhesaw,also,thatMrsPlornishwasayoungwoman,made somewhat slatternly inherselfandherbelongingsbypoverty;andsodraggedatbypovertyandthechildrentogether,thattheirunitedforceshadalreadydraggedherfaceintowrinkles.

'All such things as jobs,' said Mrs Plornish, 'seems to me to have goneunderground,theydoindeed.'(HereinMrsPlornishlimitedherremarktotheplasteringtrade,andspokewithoutreferencetotheCircumlocutionOfficeandtheBarnacleFamily.)

'Isitsodifficulttogetwork?'askedArthurClennam.

'Plornish finds it so,' she returned. 'He is quite unfortunate. Really he is.'Reallyhewas.Hewasoneofthosemanywayfarersontheroadoflife,who

seemtobeafflictedwithsupernaturalcorns,renderingitimpossibleforthemtokeepupevenwiththeirlamecompetitors.

A willing, working, soft hearted, not hardheaded fellow, Plornish took hisfortuneassmoothlyascouldbeexpected;butitwasaroughone.Itsorarelyhappenedthatanybodyseemedtowanthim,itwassuchanexceptionalcasewhenhispowerswereinanyrequest,thathismistymindcouldnotmakeouthowithappened.Hetookitasitcame,therefore;hetumbledintoallkindsofdifficulties, and tumbled out of them; and, by tumbling through life, gothimselfconsiderablybruised.

'It'snotforwantoflookingafterjobs,Iamsure,'saidMrsPlornish,liftinguphereyebrows,andsearchingforasolutionoftheproblembetweenthebarsofthegrate;'noryetforwantofworkingatthemwhentheyaretobegot.Nooneeverheardmyhusbandcomplainofwork.'

Somehowor other, thiswas the generalmisfortune ofBleedingHeartYard.Fromtimetotimetherewerepubliccomplaints,patheticallygoingabout,oflabourbeingscarcewhichcertainpeopleseemedtotakeextraordinarilyill,asthoughtheyhadanabsoluterighttoitontheirowntermsbutBleedingHeartYard,thoughaswillingaYardasanyinBritain,wasneverthebetterforthedemand. That high old family, the Barnacles, had long been too busy withtheirgreatprincipletolookintothematter;andindeedthematterhadnothingto do with their watchfulness in outgeneralling all other high old familiesexcepttheStiltstalkings.

WhileMrsPlornishspokeinthesewordsofherabsentlord,herlordreturned.Asmoothcheeked, freshcoloured, sandywhiskeredmanof thirty.Long in thelegs,yieldingattheknees,foolishintheface,flanneljacketed,limewhitened.

'ThisisPlornish,sir.'

'Icame,'saidClennam,rising, 'tobegthefavourofalittleconversationwithyouonthesubjectoftheDorritfamily.'

Plornishbecamesuspicious.Seemedtoscentacreditor.Said, 'Ah,yes.Well.Hedidn'tknowwhatsatisfactionhecouldgiveanygentleman,respectingthatfamily.Whatmightitbeabout,now?'

'Iknowyoubetter,'saidClennam,smiling,'thanyousuppose.'

Plornish observed, not Smiling in return, And yet he hadn't the pleasure ofbeingacquaintedwiththegentleman,neither.

'No,' saidArthur, 'I knowyour kind offices at second hand, but on the bestauthority;throughLittleDorrit.Imean,'heexplained,'MissDorrit.'

'MrClennam,isit?Oh!I'veheardofyou,Sir.'

'AndIofyou,'saidArthur.

'Pleasetositdownagain,Sir,andconsideryourselfwelcome.Why,yes,'saidPlornish,takingachair,andliftingtheelderchilduponhisknee,thathemighthavethemoralsupportofspeakingtoastrangeroverhishead,'Ihavebeenonthewrongsideof theLockmyself, and in thatwaywecome toknowMissDorrit.Meandmywife,wearewellacquaintedwithMissDorrit.''Intimate!'criedMrsPlornish.Indeed,shewassoproudoftheacquaintance,thatshehadawakenedsomebitternessofspiritintheYardbymagnifyingtoanenormousamount the sum for whichMiss Dorrit's father had become insolvent. TheBleedingHeartsresentedherclaimingtoknowpeopleofsuchdistinction.

'It was her father that I got acquainted with first. And through gettingacquainted with him, you seewhyI got acquainted with her,' said Plornishtautologically.

'Isee.'

'Ah!Andthere'smanners!There'spolish!There'sagentlemantohaveruntoseed in theMarshalsea jail!Why,perhapsyouarenot aware,' saidPlornish,loweringhisvoice,andspeakingwithaperverseadmirationofwhatheoughttohavepitiedordespised,'notawarethatMissDorritandhersisterdursn'tlethim know that they work for a living. No!' said Plornish, looking with aridiculous triumph first athiswife, and thenall round the room. 'Dursn't lethimknowit,theydursn't!'

'Without admiringhim for that,'Clennamquietlyobserved, 'I amvery sorryforhim.'TheremarkappearedtosuggesttoPlornish,forthefirsttime,thatitmightnotbeaveryfinetraitofcharacterafterall.Heponderedaboutitforamoment,andgaveitup.

'Astome,'heresumed,'certainlyMrDorritisasaffablewithme,Iamsure,asI can possibly expect.Considering the differences and distances betwixt us,moreso.Butit'sMissDorritthatwewerespeakingof.'

'True.Prayhowdidyouintroduceheratmymother's!'

MrPlornishpicked abit of limeout of hiswhisker, put it betweenhis lips,turneditwithhistonguelikeasugarplum,considered,foundhimselfunequalto the task of lucid explanation, and appealing to hiswife, said, 'Sally, youmayaswellmentionhowitwas,oldwoman.'

'MissDorrit,' said Sally, hushing the baby from side to side, and laying herchinuponthe littlehandas it tried todisarrange thegownagain, 'camehere

one afternoon with a bit of writing, telling that how she wished forneedlework, andasked if itwouldbeconsideredany illconwenience incaseshewastogiveheraddresshere.'(Plornishrepeated,heraddresshere,inalowvoice,asifheweremakingresponsesatchurch.) 'MeandPlornishsays,No,MissDorrit,no illconwenience,' (Plornish repeated,no illconwenience,) 'andshewroteitin,according.WhichthenmeandPlornishsays,HoMissDorrit!'(Plornishrepeated,HoMissDorrit.)'Haveyouthoughtofcopyingitthreeorfour times, as theway tomake itknown inmoreplaces thanone?No, saysMissDorrit,Ihavenot,butIwill.Shecopieditoutaccording,onthistable,inasweetwriting,andPlornish,he took itwhereheworked,havinga job justthen,' (Plornish repeated job just then,) 'and likewise to the landlord of theYard;throughwhichitwasthatMrsClennamfirsthappenedtoemployMissDorrit.'Plornishrepeated,employMissDorrit;andMrsPlornishhavingcometoanend,feignedtobitethefingersofthelittlehandasshekissedit.

'ThelandlordoftheYard,'saidArthurClennam,'is'

'He isMrCasby,byname,he is,' saidPlornish, 'andPancks,hecollects therents. That,' added Mr Plornish, dwelling on the subject with a slowthoughtfulness thatappeared tohavenoconnectionwithanyspecificobject,andtoleadhimnowhere,'thatisaboutwhattheyare,youmaybelievemeornot,asyouthinkproper.'

'Ay?' returned Clennam, thoughtful in his turn. 'Mr Casby, too! An oldacquaintanceofmine,longago!'

MrPlornishdidnotseehisroadtoanycommentonthisfact,andmadenone.Astheretrulywasnoreasonwhyheshouldhavetheleastinterestinit,ArthurClennamwentontothepresentpurportofhisvisit;namely,tomakePlornishtheinstrumentofeffectingTip'srelease,withaslittledetrimentaspossibletothe selfreliance and selfhelpfulness of the young man, supposing him topossessanyremnantof thosequalities:withoutdoubtaverywidestretchofsupposition.Plornish,havingbeenmadeacquaintedwith thecauseofactionfromtheDefendant'sownmouth,gaveArthurtounderstandthatthePlaintiffwas a 'Chaunter'meaning, not a singer of anthems, but a seller of horsesandthat he (Plornish) considered that ten shillings in the pound 'would settlehandsome,' and that more would be a waste of money. The Principal andinstrumentsoondroveoff together toastableyard inHighHolborn,wherearemarkablyfinegreygelding,worth,atthelowestfigure,seventyfiveguineas(nottakingintoaccountthevalueoftheshothehadbeenmadetoswallowfortheimprovementofhisform),wastobepartedwithforatwentypoundnote,inconsequenceofhishavingrunawaylastweekwithMrsCaptainBarbaryofCheltenham,whowasn'tuptoahorseofhiscourage,andwho,inmerespite,insistedonsellinghimfor that ridiculoussum:or, inotherwords,ongiving

himaway.Plornish,goingupthisyardaloneandleavinghisPrincipaloutside,foundagentlemanwithtightdrablegs,aratheroldhat,alittlehookedstick,andablueneckerchief(CaptainMaroonofGloucestershire,aprivatefriendofCaptain Barbary); who happened to be there, in a friendlyway, tomentiontheselittlecircumstancesconcerningtheremarkablyfinegreygeldingtoanyrealjudgeofahorseandquicksnapperupofagoodthing,whomightlookinatthataddressasperadvertisement.Thisgentleman,happeningalsotobethePlaintiffintheTipcase,referredMrPlornishtohissolicitor,anddeclinedtotreatwithMrPlornish,oreven toendurehispresence in theyard,unlessheappeared therewith a twentypound note: inwhich case only, the gentlemanwouldaugurfromappearancesthathemeantbusiness,andmightbeinducedto talk to him. On this hint, Mr Plornish retired to communicate with hisPrincipal, and presently came backwith the required credentials. Then saidCaptainMaroon,'Now,howmuchtimedoyouwanttomaketheothertwentyin? Now, I'll give you a month.' Then said Captain Maroon, when thatwouldn'tsuit,'Now,I'lltellwhatI'lldowithyou.Youshallgetmeagoodbillatfourmonths,madepayableatabankinghouse,fortheothertwenty!'ThensaidCaptainMaroon,whenTHATwouldn'tsuit, 'Now,come;Here's thelastI'vegottosaytoyou.Youshallgivemeanothertendown,andI'llrunmypencleanthroughit.'ThensaidCaptainMaroonwhenTHATwouldn'tsuit,'Now,I'lltellyouwhatitis,andthisshutsitup;hehasusedmebad,butI'lllethimoff for another five down and a bottle ofwine; and if youmean done, saydone, and if you don't like it, leave it.' Finally said CaptainMaroon, whenTHATwouldn'tsuiteither, 'Handover,then!'Andinconsiderationofthefirstoffer,gaveareceiptinfullanddischargedtheprisoner.

'MrPlornish,'saidArthur, 'I trust toyou,ifyouplease, tokeepmysecret.Ifyouwillundertaketolettheyoungmanknowthatheisfree,andtotellhimthatyouwereemployedtocompoundforthedebtbysomeonewhomyouarenotatlibertytoname,youwillnotonlydomeaservice,butmaydohimone,andhissisteralso.'

'The last reason, sir,' said Plornish, 'would be quite sufficient. Your wishesshallbeattendedto.'

'AFriendhasobtainedhisdischarge,youcansayifyouplease.AFriendwhohopesthatforhissister'ssake,iffornooneelse's,hewillmakegooduseofhisliberty.'

'Yourwishes,sir,shallbeattendedto.'

'And if you will be so good, in your better knowledge of the family, as tocommunicatefreelywithme,andtopointouttomeanymeansbywhichyouthinkImaybedelicatelyandreallyusefultoLittleDorrit,Ishallfeelunderan

obligationtoyou.'

'Don'tnameit,sir,'returnedPlornish,'it'llbeekallyapleasureanait'lbeekallya pleasure and a' Finding himself unable to balance his sentence after twoefforts, Mr Plornish wisely dropped it. He took Clennam's card andappropriatepecuniarycompliment.

Hewasearnesttofinishhiscommissionatonce,andhisPrincipalwasinthesamemind.SohisPrincipalofferedtosethimdownattheMarshalseaGate,andtheydrove in thatdirectionoverBlackfriarsBridge.Ontheway,Arthurelicited from his new friend a confused summary of the interior life ofBleedingHeartYard.Theywasallhardupthere,MrPlornishsaid,uncommonhard up, to be sure. Well, he couldn't say how it was; he didn't know asanybodycouldsayhowitwas;allheknow'dwas,thatsoitwas.

Whenamanfelt,onhisownbackandinhisownbelly,thatpoorhewas,thatman(MrPlornishgaveitashisdecidedbelief)know'dwellthathewaspoorsomehowor another, and you couldn't talk it out of him, nomore than youcould talkBeef intohim.Thenyou see, somepeopleaswasbetteroff said,andagoodmanysuchpeoplelivedprettycloseuptothemarkthemselvesifnotbeyonditsohe'dheerd,thattheywas'improvident'(thatwasthefavouriteword) down the Yard. For instance, if they see a man with his wife andchildrengoingtoHamptonCourtinaWan,perhapsonceinayear,theysays,'Hallo!Ithoughtyouwaspoor,myimprovidentfriend!'Why,Lord,howharditwasuponaman!Whatwasamantodo?Hecouldn'tgomollancholymad,andevenifhedid,youwouldn'tbethebetterforit.InMrPlornish'sjudgmentyou would be the worse for it. Yet you seemed to want to make a manmollancholymad.Youwasalwaysatitifnotwithyourrighthand,withyourleft.Whatwas they a doing in theYard?Why, take a look at 'em and see.There was the girls and their mothers a working at their sewing, or theirshoebinding,or their trimming,or theirwaistcoatmaking,dayandnightandnight and day, and notmore than able to keep body and soul together afteralloftennotsomuch.Therewaspeopleofprettywellallsortsof tradesyoucould name, all wanting towork, and yet not able to get it. Therewas oldpeople,afterworkingalltheirlives,goingandbeingshutupintheworkhouse,much worse fed and lodged and treated altogether, thanMr Plornish saidmanufacturers, but appeared tomeanmalefactors.Why, aman didn't knowwheretoturnhimselfforacrumbofcomfort.Astowhowastoblameforit,Mr Plornish didn't know who was to blame for it. He could tell you whosuffered,buthecouldn'ttellyouwhosefaultitwas.Itwasn'tHISplacetofindout,andwho'dmindwhathesaid,ifhedidfindout?Heonlyknow'dthatitwasn'tputrightbythemwhatundertookthatlineofbusiness,andthatitdidn'tcome right of itself. And, in brief, his illogical opinion was, that if you

couldn'tdonothingforhim,youhadbettertakenothingfromhimfordoingofit; so far as he couldmake out, thatwas aboutwhat it come to. Thus, in aprolix,gentlygrowling,foolishway,didPlornishturnthetangledskeinofhisestate about and about, like a blind man who was trying to find somebeginning or end to it; until they reached the prison gate.There, he left hisPrincipalalone; towonder,ashe rodeaway,howmany thousandPlornishestheremight bewithin a day or two's journey of theCircumlocutionOffice,playingsundrycuriousvariationsonthesametune,whichwerenotknownbyearinthatgloriousinstitution.

CHAPTER13.

Patriarchal

The mention of Mr Casby again revived in Clennam's memory thesmouldering embers of curiosity and interest which Mrs Flintwinch hadfanned on the night of his arrival. FloraCasby had been the beloved of hisboyhood; and Flora was the daughter and only child of woodenheaded oldChristopher(sohewasstilloccasionallyspokenofbysomeirreverentspiritswho had had dealings with him, and in whom familiarity had bred itsproverbialresultperhaps),whowasreputedtoberichinweeklytenants,andtogetagoodquantityofbloodoutofthestonesofseveralunpromisingcourtsandalleys.Aftersomedaysofinquiryandresearch,ArthurClennambecameconvincedthatthecaseoftheFatheroftheMarshalseawasindeedahopelessone, and sorrowfully resigned the ideaofhelpinghim to freedomagain.Hehadnohopefulinquirytomakeatpresent,concerningLittleDorriteither;buthe argued with himself that it mightfor anything he knewit might beserviceable to the poor child, if he renewed this acquaintance. It is hardlynecessarytoaddthatbeyondalldoubthewouldhavepresentedhimselfatMrCasby'sdoor,iftherehadbeennoLittleDorritinexistence;forweallknowhow we all deceive ourselvesthat is to say, how people in general, ourprofounderselvesexcepted,deceivethemselvesastomotivesofaction.

Withacomfortableimpressionuponhim,andquiteanhonestoneinitsway,thathewasstillpatronisingLittleDorritindoingwhathadnoreferencetoher,hefoundhimselfoneafternoonatthecornerofMrCasby'sstreet.MrCasbylived in a street in the Gray's Inn Road, which had set off from thatthoroughfarewith the intentionof running at oneheat down into thevalley,and up again to the top of PentonvilleHill; butwhich had run itself out ofbreathintwentyyards,andhadstoodstilleversince.Thereisnosuchplacein

thatpart now;but it remained there formanyyears, lookingwith abaulkedcountenance at the wilderness patched with unfruitful gardens and pimpledwitheruptivesummerhouses,thatithadmeanttorunoverinnotime.

'Thehouse,'thoughtClennam,ashecrossedtothedoor,'isaslittlechangedasmymother's, and looks almost as gloomy. But the likeness ends outside. Iknow its staid repose within. The smell of its jars of old roseleaves andlavenderseemstocomeuponmeevenhere.'

When his knock at the bright brass knocker of obsolete shape brought awomanservanttothedoor,thosefadedscentsintruthsalutedhimlikewintrybreaththathadafaintremembranceinitofthebygonespring.Hesteppedintothesober,silent,airtighthouseonemighthavefancied it tohavebeenstifledbyMutesintheEasternmannerandthedoor,closingagain,seemedtoshutoutsound and motion. The furniture was formal, grave, and quakerlike, butwellkept; and had as prepossessing an aspect as anything, from a humancreature to awooden stool, that ismeant formuchuse and is preserved forlittle, can ever wear. There was a grave clock, ticking somewhere up thestaircase;and therewasasonglessbird in thesamedirection,peckingathiscage,asifheweretickingtoo.Theparlourfiretickedinthegrate.Therewasonlyonepersonontheparlourhearth,andtheloudwatchinhispockettickedaudibly.

Theservantmaidhadtickedthetwowords'MrClennam'sosoftlythatshehadnot been heard; and he consequently stood,within the door she had closed,unnoticed.Thefigureofamanadvancedinlife,whosesmoothgreyeyebrowsseemed to move to the ticking as the firelight flickered on them, sat in anarmchair,withhislistshoesontherug,andhisthumbsslowlyrevolvingoverone another. This was old Christopher Casbyrecognisable at a glanceasunchanged in twenty years and upward as his own solid furnitureas littletouchedbytheinfluenceofthevaryingseasonsastheoldroseleavesandoldlavenderinhisporcelainjars.

Perhapsthereneverwasaman,inthistroublesomeworld,sotroublesomefortheimaginationtopictureasaboy.Andyethehadchangedverylittleinhisprogress through life. Confronting him, in the room inwhich he sat,was aboy's portrait, which anybody seeing him would have identified as MasterChristopher Casby, aged ten: though disguised with a haymaking rake, forwhichhehadhad,atany time,asmuch tasteoruseas foradivingbell;andsitting(ononeofhisownlegs)uponabankofviolets,movedtoprecociouscontemplation by the spire of a village church.Therewas the same smoothfaceand forehead, the samecalmblueeye, the sameplacidair.Theshiningbaldhead,whichlookedsoverylargebecauseitshonesomuch;andthelonggreyhairat itssidesandback, likeflosssilkorspunglass,whichlookedso

verybenevolentbecauseitwasnevercut;werenot,ofcourse,tobeseenintheboy as in the old man. Nevertheless, in the Seraphic creature with thehaymaking rake,were clearly tobediscerned the rudimentsof thePatriarchwiththelistshoes.

Patriarchwasthenamewhichmanypeopledelightedtogivehim.Variousoldladies in the neighbourhood spoke of him asTheLast of the Patriarchs. Sogrey,soslow,soquiet,soimpassionate,soverybumpyinthehead,Patriarchwas theword for him.Hehadbeen accosted in the streets, and respectfullysolicited to become aPatriarch for painters and for sculptors;with somuchimportunity, in sooth, that it would appear to be beyond the Fine Arts toremember thepointsofaPatriarch,or to inventone.Philanthropistsofbothsexeshadaskedwhohewas,andonbeinginformed,'OldChristopherCasby,formerlyTownagenttoLordDecimusTiteBarnacle,'hadcriedinaraptureofdisappointment,'Oh!why,withthathead,ishenotabenefactortohisspecies!Oh!why,with thathead, ishenota father to theorphananda friend to thefriendless!' With that head, however, he remained old Christopher Casby,proclaimedbycommonreportrichinhouseproperty;andwiththathead,henow sat in his silent parlour. Indeed it would be the height of unreason toexpecthimtobesittingtherewithoutthathead.

ArthurClennammovedtoattracthisattention,andthegreyeyebrowsturnedtowardshim.

'Ibegyourpardon,'saidClennam,'Ifearyoudidnothearmeannounced?'

'No,sir,Ididnot.Didyouwishtoseeme,sir?'

'Iwishedtopaymyrespects.'

MrCasby seemed a feather'sweight disappointed by the lastwords, havingperhapspreparedhimselfforthevisitor'swishingtopaysomethingelse.'HaveIthepleasure,sir,'heproceeded'takeachair,ifyoupleasehaveIthepleasureof knowing? Ah! truly, yes, I think I have! I believe I am notmistaken insupposing that I am acquainted with those features? I think I address agentlemanofwhosereturntothiscountryIwasinformedbyMrFlintwinch?'

'Thatisyourpresentvisitor.'

'Really!MrClennam?'

'Noother,MrCasby.'

'MrClennam,Iamgladtoseeyou.Howhaveyoubeensincewemet?'

Withoutthinkingitworthwhiletoexplainthatinthecourseofsomequarter

ofacenturyhehadexperiencedoccasionalslightfluctuationsinhishealthandspirits, Clennam answered generally that he had never been better, orsomethingequallytothepurpose;andshookhandswiththepossessorof'thathead'asitsheditspatriarchallightuponhim.

'Weareolder,MrClennam,'saidChristopherCasby.

'Wearenotyounger,'saidClennam.Afterthiswiseremarkhefeltthathewasscarcelyshiningwithbrilliancy,andbecameawarethathewasnervous.

'Andyourrespectedfather,'saidMrCasby,'isnomore!Iwasgrievedtohearit,MrClennam,Iwasgrieved.'

Arthurrepliedintheusualwaythathefeltinfinitelyobligedtohim.

'Therewasatime,'saidMrCasby,'whenyourparentsandmyselfwerenotonfriendly terms. There was a little family misunderstanding among us. Yourrespectedmotherwasratherjealousofherson,maybe;whenIsayherson,Imeanyourworthyself,yourworthyself.'

His smooth face had a bloom upon it like ripe wallfruit. What with hisblooming face, and thathead,andhisblueeyes,he seemed tobedeliveringsentiments of rare wisdom and virtue. In like manner, his physiognomicalexpressionseemedtoteemwithbenignity.Nobodycouldhavesaidwherethewisdomwas,orwherethevirtuewas,orwherethebenignitywas;buttheyallseemed to be somewhere about him. 'Those times, however,' pursued MrCasby,'arepastandgone,pastandgone.Idomyselfthepleasureofmakingavisittoyourrespectedmotheroccasionally,andofadmiringthefortitudeandstrength ofmindwithwhich she bears her trials, bears her trials.'When hemadeoneoftheselittlerepetitions,sittingwithhishandscrossedbeforehim,hediditwithhisheadononeside,andagentlesmile,asifhehadsomethingin his thoughts too sweetly profound to be put intowords.As if he deniedhimself the pleasure of uttering it, lest he should soar too high; and hismeeknessthereforepreferredtobeunmeaning.

'I have heard that you were kind enough on one of those occasions,' saidArthur, catching at the opportunity as it drifted past him, 'tomention LittleDorrittomymother.'

'LittleDorrit? That's the seamstress who was mentioned to me by a smalltenantofmine?Yes,yes.Dorrit?That'sthename.Ah,yes,yes!YoucallherLittleDorrit?'

Noroadinthatdirection.Nothingcameofthecrosscut.Itlednofurther.

'My daughter Flora,' saidMr Casby, 'as you may have heard probably, Mr

Clennam,wasmarriedandestablishedinlife,severalyearsago.Shehadthemisfortunetoloseherhusbandwhenshehadbeenmarriedafewmonths.Sheresideswithmeagain.Shewillbegladtoseeyou,ifyouwillpermitmetoletherknowthatyouarehere.'

'Byallmeans,'returnedClennam.'Ishouldhavepreferredtherequest,ifyourkindnesshadnotanticipatedme.'

UponthisMrCasbyroseupinhislistshoes,andwithaslow,heavystep(hewas of an elephantine build),made for the door.He had a longwideskirtedbottlegreen coat on, and a bottlegreen pair of trousers, and a bottlegreenwaistcoat.ThePatriarchswerenotdressedinbottlegreenbroadcloth,andyethisclotheslookedpatriarchal.

He had scarcely left the room, and allowed the ticking to become audibleagain,whenaquickhandturneda latchkeyin thehousedoor,openedit,andshut it. Immediatelyafterwards,aquickandeagershortdarkmancameintotheroomwithsomuchwayuponhimthathewaswithinafootofClennambeforehecouldstop.

'Halloa!'hesaid.

Clennamsawnoreasonwhyheshouldnotsay'Halloa!'too.

'What'sthematter?'saidtheshortdarkman.

'Ihavenotheardthatanythingisthematter,'returnedClennam.

'Where'sMrCasby?'askedtheshortdarkman,lookingabout.'Hewillbeheredirectly,ifyouwanthim.'

'Iwanthim?'saidtheshortdarkman.'Don'tyou?'ThiselicitedawordortwoofexplanationfromClennam,duringthedeliveryofwhichtheshortdarkmanheldhisbreathandlookedathim.Hewasdressedinblackandrustyirongrey;hadjetblackbeadsofeyes;ascrubbylittleblackchin;wiryblackhairstrikingoutfromhisheadinprongs,likeforksorhairpins;andacomplexionthatwasverydingybynature,orverydirtybyart,oracompoundofnatureandart.Hehad dirty hands and dirty broken nails, and looked as if he had been in thecoals;hewasinaperspiration,andsnortedandsniffedandpuffedandblew,likealittlelabouringsteamengine.

'Oh!'saidhe,whenArthurtoldhimhowhecametobethere.'Verywell.That'sright.IfheshouldaskforPancks,willyoubesogoodastosaythatPancksiscomein?'Andso,withasnortandapuff,heworkedoutbyanotherdoor.

Now,intheolddaysathome,certainaudaciousdoubtsrespectingthelastof

the Patriarchs, which were afloat in the air, had, by some forgottenmeans,comeincontactwithArthur'ssensorium.Hewasawareofmotesandspecksof suspicion in the atmosphere of that time; seen through which medium,ChristopherCasbywasamere Inn signpost,without any Innan invitation torest and be thankful, when there was no place to put up at, and nothingwhatever to be thankful for. He knew that some of these specks evenrepresentedChristopherascapableofharbouringdesignsin'thathead,'andasbeingacraftyimpostor.Othermotestherewerewhichshowedhimasaheavy,selfish,driftingBooby,who,havingstumbled, in thecourseofhisunwieldyjostlingsagainstothermen,onthediscoverythattogetthroughlifewitheaseandcredit,hehadbuttoholdhistongue,keepthebaldpartofhisheadwellpolished, and leavehishair alone,hadhad just cunningenough to seize theideaandsticktoit.ItwassaidthathisbeingtownagenttoLordDecimusTiteBarnaclewasreferable,nottohishavingtheleastbusinesscapacity,buttohislooking so supremely benignant that nobody could suppose the propertyscrewedorjobbedundersuchaman;also,thatforsimilarreasonshenowgotmore money out of his own wretched lettings, unquestioned, than anybodywithalessnobbyandlessshiningcrowncouldpossiblyhavedone.Inaword,itwasrepresented(Clennamcalledtomind,aloneinthetickingparlour)thatmanypeople select theirmodels,much as thepainters, just nowmentioned,selecttheirs;andthat,whereasintheRoyalAcademysomeeviloldruffianofa Dogstealer will annually be found embodying all the cardinal virtues, onaccountof his eyelashes, or his chin, or his legs (therebyplanting thornsofconfusion in thebreastsof themoreobservantstudentsofnature),so, in thegreat socialExhibition, accessories are often accepted in lieu of the internalcharacter.

Calling these things to mind, and ranging Mr Pancks in a row with them,ArthurClennamleaned thisday to theopinion,withoutquitedecidingon it,that the lastof thePatriarchswas thedriftingBoobyaforesaid,with theoneideaofkeepingthebaldpartofhisheadhighlypolished:andthat,muchasanunwieldy ship in the Thames river may sometimes be seen heavily drivingwith the tide, broadside on, stern first, in its own way and in the way ofeverything else, though making a great show of navigation, when all of asudden, a little coaly steamtug will bear down upon it, take it in tow, andbustleoffwithit;similarlythecumbrousPatriarchhadbeentakenintowbythe snortingPancks, andwasnow following in thewakeof that dingy littlecraft.

The return of Mr Casby with his daughter Flora, put an end to thesemeditations.Clennam'seyesnosoonerfelluponthesubjectofhisoldpassionthanitshiveredandbroketopieces.

Mostmenwill be found sufficiently true to themselves to be true to an oldidea.Itisnoproofofaninconstantmind,butexactlytheopposite,whentheideawillnotbearclosecomparisonwiththereality,andthecontrastisafatalshocktoit.SuchwasClennam'scase.Inhisyouthhehadardentlylovedthiswoman,andhadheapeduponherallthelockedupwealthofhisaffectionandimagination.Thatwealthhadbeen,inhisdeserthome,likeRobinsonCrusoe'smoney; exchangeable with no one, lying idle in the dark to rust, until hepoureditoutforher.Eversincethatmemorabletime,thoughhehad,untilthenightofhisarrival,ascompletelydismissedherfromanyassociationwithhisPresentorFutureasifshehadbeendead(whichshemighteasilyhavebeenforanythingheknew),hehadkepttheoldfancyofthePastunchanged,initsoldsacredplace.Andnow,afterall, the lastof thePatriarchscoollywalkedintotheparlour,sayingineffect,'Begoodenoughtothrowitdownanddanceuponit.ThisisFlora.'

Flora,alwaystall,hadgrowntobeverybroadtoo,andshortofbreath;butthatwasnotmuch.Flora,whomhehad lefta lily,hadbecomeapeony;but thatwasnotmuch.Flora,whohadseemedenchantinginallshesaidandthought,wasdiffuseandsilly.Thatwasmuch.Flora,whohadbeenspoiledandartlesslongago,wasdeterminedtobespoiledandartlessnow.Thatwasafatalblow.

ThisisFlora!

'I am sure,' giggled Flora, tossing her head with a caricature of her girlishmanner, such as amummermight havepresented at her own funeral, if shehadlivedanddiedinclassicalantiquity,'IamashamedtoseeMrClennam,Iamamerefright,Iknowhe'llfindmefearfullychanged,Iamactuallyanoldwoman,it'sshockingtobefoundout,it'sreallyshocking!'

Heassuredherthatshewasjustwhathehadexpectedandthattimehadnotstoodstillwithhimself.

'Oh!Butwithagentleman it'ssodifferentandreallyyou looksoamazinglywellthatyouhavenorighttosayanythingofthekind,while,astome,youknowoh!'criedFlorawithalittlescream,'Iamdreadful!'

The Patriarch, apparently not yet understanding his own part in the dramaunderrepresentation,glowedwithvacantserenity.

'But if we talk of not having changed,' said Flora, who, whatever she said,neveroncecametoafullstop,'lookatPapa,isnotPapapreciselywhathewaswhenyouwentaway,isn'titcruelandunnaturalofPapatobesuchareproachtohisownchild,ifwegooninthiswaymuchlongerpeoplewhodon'tknowuswillbegintosupposethatIamPapa'sMama!'

Thatmustbealongtimehence,Arthurconsidered.

'OhMrClennamyou insincerestofcreatures,' saidFlora, 'Iperceivealreadyyouhavenot lost youroldwayofpayingcompliments, youroldwaywhenyou used to pretend to be so sentimentally struck you knowat least I don'tmeanthat,IohIdon'tknowwhatImean!'HereFloratitteredconfusedly,andgavehimoneofheroldglances.

ThePatriarch,asifhenowbegantoperceivethathispartinthepiecewastoget off the stage as soon asmight be, rose, andwent to the door bywhichPanckshadworkedout,hailingthatTugbyname.HereceivedananswerfromsomelittleDockbeyond,andwastowedoutofsightdirectly.

'Youmustn'tthinkofgoingyet,'saidFloraArthurhadlookedathishat,beingin a ludicrous dismay, and not knowingwhat to do: 'you could never be sounkindastothinkofgoing,ArthurImeanMrArthurorIsupposeMrClennamwouldbefarmoreproperbutIamsureIdon'tknowwhatIamsayingwithoutawordaboutthedearolddaysgoneforever,whenIcometothinkofitIdaresayitwouldbemuchbetternottospeakofthemandit'shighlyprobablethatyouhavesomemuchmoreagreeableengagementandprayletMebethelastperson in the world to interfere with it though there was a time, but I amrunningintononsenseagain.'

Was it possible that Flora could have been such a chatterer in the days shereferred to? Could there have been anything like her present disjointedvolubilityinthefascinationsthathadcaptivatedhim?

'IndeedIhavelittledoubt,'saidFlora,runningonwithastonishingspeed,andpointing her conversationwith nothing but commas, and very few of them,'thatyouaremarriedtosomeChineselady,beinginChinasolongandbeinginbusinessandnaturallydesiroustosettleandextendyourconnectionnothingwasmore likely than thatyoushouldpropose toaChinese ladyandnothingwasmorenaturalIamsurethanthattheChineseladyshouldacceptyouandthinkherselfverywellofftoo,Ionlyhopeshe'snotaPagodiandissenter.'

'I amnot,' returnedArthur, smiling in spiteofhimself, 'married toany lady,Flora.'

'OhgoodgraciousmeIhopeyouneverkeptyourselfabachelorsolongonmyaccount!' tittered Flora; 'but of course you never did why should you, praydon't answer, I don't know where I'm running to, oh do tell me somethingabout the Chinese ladies whether their eyes are really so long and narrowalwaysputtingme inmindofmotherofpearl fishatcardsanddo they reallyweartailsdowntheirbackandplaitedtooorisitonlythemen,andwhentheypulltheirhairsoverytightofftheirforeheadsdon'ttheyhurtthemselves,and

whydo theystick littlebellsallover theirbridgesand templesandhatsandthingsordon't they reallydo it?'Floragavehimanotherofheroldglances.Instantlyshewentonagain,asifhehadspokeninreplyforsometime.

'Thenit'salltrueandtheyreallydo!goodgraciousArthur!prayexcusemeoldhabitMrClennamfarmoreproperwhatacountrytoliveinforsolongatime,and with so many lanterns and umbrellas too how very dark and wet theclimateoughttobeandnodoubtactuallyis,andthesumsofmoneythatmustbemadeby those two tradeswhereeverybodycarries themandhangs themeverywhere,thelittleshoestooandthefeetscrewedbackininfancyisquitesurprising,whatatravelleryouare!'

Inhisridiculousdistress,Clennamreceivedanotheroftheoldglanceswithoutintheleastknowingwhattodowithit.

'Dear dear,' said Flora, 'only to think of the changes at home Arthurcannotovercome it, and seems so natural, Mr Clennam far more propersince youbecamefamiliarwiththeChinesecustomsandlanguagewhichIampersuadedyou speak like aNative if not better for youwere always quick and cleverthoughimmenselydifficultnodoubt,IamsuretheteachestsalonewouldkillmeifItried,suchchangesArthurIamdoingitagain,seemssonatural,mostimproperasnoonecouldhavebelieved,whocouldhaveever imaginedMrsFinchingwhenIcan'timagineitmyself!'

'Isthatyourmarriedname?'askedArthur,struck,inthemidstofallthis,byacertainwarmth of heart that expressed itself in her tonewhen she referred,howeveroddly,totheyouthfulrelationinwhichtheyhadstoodtooneanother.'Finching?'

'Finchingohyesisn'titadreadfulname,butasMrF.saidwhenheproposedtomewhichhedidseventimesandhandsomelyconsentedImustsay tobewhatheusedtocallonlikingtwelvemonths,afterall,hewasn'tanswerablefor it and couldn't help it could he, Excellent man, not at all like you butexcellentman!'

Florahadatlasttalkedherselfoutofbreathforonemoment.Onemoment;forshe recovered breath in the act of raising a minute corner of herpockethandkerchieftohereye,asatributetotheghostofthedepartedMrF.,andbeganagain.

'No one could dispute,ArthurMrClennamthat it's quite right you should beformally friendly to me under the altered circumstances and indeed youcouldn'tbeanythingelse,atleastIsupposenotyououghttoknow,butIcan'thelprecallingthattherewasatimewhenthingswereverydifferent.'

'MydearMrsFinching,'Arthurbegan,struckbythegoodtoneagain.

'Ohnotthatnastyuglyname,sayFlora!'

'Flora.Iassureyou,Flora,Iamhappyinseeingyouoncemore,andinfindingthat,likeme,youhavenotforgottentheoldfoolishdreams,whenwesawallbeforeusinthelightofouryouthandhope.'

'Youdon'tseemso,'poutedFlora,'youtakeitverycoolly,buthoweverIknowyouaredisappointedinme,IsupposetheChineseladiesMandarinessesifyoucallthemsoarethecauseorperhapsIamthecausemyself,it'sjustaslikely.'

'No,no,'Clennamentreated,'don'tsaythat.'

'OhImustyouknow,'saidFlora, inapositivetone, 'whatnonsensenotto,IknowIamnotwhatyouexpected,Iknowthatverywell.'

Inthemidstofherrapidity,shehadfoundthatoutwiththequickperceptionofa cleverer woman. The inconsistent and profoundly unreasonable way inwhichsheinstantlywenton,nevertheless,tointerweavetheirlongabandonedboyandgirlrelationswiththeirpresentinterview,madeClennamfeelasifhewerelightheaded.

'Oneremark,'saidFlora,givingtheirconversation,withouttheslightestnoticeandtothegreatterrorofClennam,thetoneofalovequarrel,'Iwishtomake,oneexplanationIwishtooffer,whenyourMamacameandmadeasceneofitwithmyPapaandwhenIwascalleddownintothelittlebreakfastroomwherethey were looking at one another with yourMama's parasol between themseatedontwochairslikemadbullswhatwasItodo?'

'MydearMrsFinching,'urgedClennam'allsolongagoandsolongconcluded,isitworthwhileseriouslyto'

'Ican'tArthur,'returnedFlora,'bedenouncedasheartlessbythewholesocietyofChinawithoutsettingmyselfrightwhenIhavetheopportunityofdoingso,andyoumustbeverywellawarethattherewasPaulandVirginiawhichhadto be returned andwhichwas returnedwithout note or comment, not that ImeantosayyoucouldhavewrittentomewatchedasIwasbutifithadonlycomebackwitharedwaferon thecoverIshouldhaveknownthat itmeantCometoPekinNankeenandWhat'sthethirdplace,barefoot.'

'MydearMrsFinching,youwerenottoblame,andIneverblamedyou.Wewereboth tooyoung, toodependent andhelpless, todoanythingbut acceptour separation.Pray think how long ago,' gently remonstrated Arthur. 'Onemore remark,' proceededFlorawithunslackenedvolubility, 'Iwish tomake,onemore explanation Iwish tooffer, for fivedays Ihada cold in thehead

fromcryingwhichIpassedentirelyinthebackdrawingroomthereisthebackdrawingroomstillonthefirstfloorandstillatthebackofthehousetoconfirmmywordswhenthatdrearyperiodhadpassedalullsucceededyearsrolledonandMrF.becameacquaintedwithusatamutualfriend's,hewasallattentionhecallednextdayhesoonbegantocallthreeeveningsaweekandtosendinlittlethingsforsupperitwasnotloveonMrF.'spartitwasadoration,MrF.proposedwiththefullapprovalofPapaandwhatcouldIdo?'

'Nothingwhatever,'saidArthur,withthecheerfulestreadiness, 'butwhatyoudid.Letanoldfriendassureyouofhisfullconvictionthatyoudidquiteright.'

'Onelastremark,'proceededFlora,rejectingcommonplacelifewithawaveofherhand,'Iwishtomake,onelastexplanationIwishtooffer,therewasatimeereMrF.firstpaidattentionsincapableofbeingmistaken,butthatispastandwasnot tobe,dearMrClennamyouno longerwearagoldenchainyouarefreeItrustyoumaybehappy,hereisPapawhoisalwaystiresomeandputtinginhisnoseeverywherewhereheisnotwanted.'

With thesewords,andwithahastygesture fraughtwith timidcautionsuchagesturehadClennam'seyesbeenfamiliarwith in theold timepoorFlora leftherselfateighteenyearsofage,alonglongwaybehindagain;andcametoafullstopatlast.

Or rather, she left abouthalfofherself at eighteenyearsof agebehind, andgraftedtherestontotherelictofthelateMrF.;thusmakingamoralmermaidof herself,which her once boylover contemplatedwith feelingswherein hissenseofthesorrowfulandhissenseofthecomicalwerecuriouslyblended.

For example. As if there were a secret understanding between herself andClennamofthemostthrillingnature;asifthefirstofatrainofpostchaisesandfour,extendingallthewaytoScotland,wereatthatmomentroundthecorner;andasifshecouldn't(andwouldn't)havewalkedintotheParishChurchwithhim,undertheshadeofthefamilyumbrella,withthePatriarchalblessingonherhead,andtheperfectconcurrenceofallmankind;Floracomfortedhersoulwithagoniesofmysterioussignalling,expressingdreadofdiscovery.Withthesensation of becoming more and more lightheaded every minute, ClennamsawtherelictofthelateMrF.enjoyingherselfinthemostwonderfulmanner,byputtingherself andhim in theiroldplaces, andgoing throughall theoldperformancesnow, when the stage was dusty, when the scenery was faded,whentheyouthfulactorsweredead,whentheorchestrawasempty,whenthelights were out. And still, through all this grotesque revival of what herememberedashavingoncebeenprettilynaturaltoher,hecouldnotbutfeelthatitrevivedatsightofhim,andthattherewasatendermemoryinit.

The Patriarch insisted on his staying to dinner, and Flora signalled 'Yes!'Clennam sowished he could have donemore than stay to dinnerso heartilywishedhecouldhavefoundtheFlorathathadbeen,orthatneverhadbeenthathe thought the least atonement he could make for the disappointment healmostfeltashamedof,wastogivehimselfuptothefamilydesire.Therefore,hestayedtodinner.

Pancks dinedwith them. Pancks steamed out of his little dock at a quarterbeforesix,andborestraightdownforthePatriarch,whohappenedtobethendriving, in an inane manner, through a stagnant account of Bleeding HeartYard.Pancksinstantlymadefasttohimandhauledhimout.

'BleedingHeartYard?'saidPancks,withapuffandasnort.'It'satroublesomeproperty.Don'tpayyoubadly,butrentsareveryhardtoget there.Youhavemoretroublewiththatoneplacethanwithalltheplacesbelongingtoyou.'

Justas thebigship in towgets thecredit,withmostspectators,ofbeingthepowerfulobject,sothePatriarchusuallyseemedtohavesaidhimselfwhateverPanckssaidforhim.

'Indeed?' returned Clennam, upon whom this impression was so efficientlymadebyameregleamofthepolishedheadthathespoketheshipinsteadoftheTug.'Thepeoplearesopoorthere?'

'Youcan'tsay,youknow,'snortedPancks,takingoneofhisdirtyhandsoutofhisrustyirongreypocketstobitehisnails,ifhecouldfindany,andturninghisbeadsofeyesuponhisemployer,'whetherthey'repoorornot.Theysaytheyare,buttheyallsaythat.Whenamansayshe'srich,you'regenerallysureheisn't.Besides, if theyAREpoor,youcan't help it.You'dbepooryourself ifyoudidn'tgetyourrents.'

'Trueenough,'saidArthur.

'You're not going to keep open house for all the poor of London,' pursuedPancks. 'You'renotgoingto lodge 'emfornothing.You'renotgoingtoopenyourgateswideandlet'emcomefree.Notifyouknowit,youain't.'

MrCasbyshookhishead,inPlacidandbenignantgenerality.

'Ifamantakesaroomofyouathalfacrownaweek,andwhentheweekcomesroundhasn't got thehalfcrown, you say to thatman,Whyhaveyougot theroom, then? If you haven't got the one thing, why have you got the other?Whathaveyoubeenanddonewithyourmoney?Whatdoyoumeanby it?Whatareyouup to?That'swhatYOUsay toamanof thatsort;and ifyoudidn't say it, more shame for you!' Mr Pancks here made a singular and

startlingnoise,producedbyastrongblowingeffortintheregionofthenose,unattendedbyanyresultbutthatacousticone.

'Youhave some extent of suchproperty about the east andnortheast here, Ibelieve?'saidClennam,doubtfulwhichofthetwotoaddress.

'Oh,prettywell,' saidPancks. 'You'renotparticular toeastornortheast, anypointofthecompasswilldoforyou.Whatyouwantisagoodinvestmentanda quick return. You take it where you can find it. You ain't nice as tosituationnotyou.'

Therewasafourthandmostoriginal figure in thePatriarchal tent,whoalsoappearedbeforedinner.Thiswasanamazinglittleoldwoman,withafacelikeastaringwoodendolltoocheapforexpression,andastiffyellowwigperchedunevenlyonthetopofherhead,asifthechildwhoownedthedollhaddrivenatackthroughitanywhere,sothatitonlygotfastenedon.Anotherremarkablething in this little old woman was, that the same child seemed to havedamaged her face in two or three placeswith some blunt instrument in thenature of a spoon; her countenance, and particularly the tip of her nose,presentingthephenomenaofseveraldints,generallyansweringtothebowlofthatarticle.Afurtherremarkable thing in this littleoldwomanwas, thatshehadnonamebutMrF.'sAunt.

She broke upon the visitor's view under the following circumstances: Florasaidwhenthefirstdishwasbeingputonthetable,perhapsMrClennammightnothaveheardthatMrF.hadleftheralegacy?ClennaminreturnimpliedhishopethatMrF.hadendowedthewifewhomheadored,withthegreaterpartofhisworldly substance, if notwith all.Flora said,ohyes, shedidn'tmeanthat,MrF.hadmadeabeautifulwill,buthehadleftherasaseparatelegacy,hisAunt.Shethenwentoutoftheroomtofetchthelegacy,and,onherreturn,rathertriumphantlypresented'MrF.'sAunt.'

Themajorcharacteristicsdiscoverableby the stranger inMrF.'sAunt,wereextremeseverityandgrimtaciturnity;sometimes interruptedbyapropensitytoofferremarksinadeepwarningvoice,which,beingtotallyuncalledforbyanything said by anybody, and traceable to no association of ideas,confounded and terrified theMind.Mr F.'sAuntmay have thrown in theseobservationsonsomesystemofherown,anditmayhavebeeningenious,oreven subtle:but thekey to itwaswanted.Theneatlyservedandwellcookeddinner (for everything about the Patriarchal household promoted quietdigestion) began with some soup, some fried soles, a butterboat of shrimpsauce,andadishofpotatoes.Theconversationstill turnedon the receiptofrents. Mr F.'s Aunt, after regarding the company for ten minutes with amalevolentgaze,deliveredthefollowingfearfulremark:

'Whenwe livedatHenley,Barnes'sganderwas stoleby tinkers.'MrPanckscourageously noddedhis head and said, 'All right,ma'am.'But the effect ofthismysteriouscommunicationuponClennamwasabsolutelytofrightenhim.Andanothercircumstanceinvestedthisoldladywithpeculiarterrors.Thoughshewasalwaysstaring,sheneveracknowledgedthatshesawanyindividual.

Thepoliteandattentivestrangerwoulddesire,say,toconsultherinclinationson the subject of potatoes. His expressive action would be hopelessly lostuponher, andwhatcouldhedo?Nomancouldsay, 'MrF.'sAunt,willyoupermitme?'Everyman retired from the spoon, asClennamdid, cowed andbaffled.

There was mutton, a steak, and an applepienothing in the remotest wayconnectedwithgandersandthedinnerwentonlikeadisenchantedfeast,asittrulywas.OnceuponatimeClennamhadsatatthattabletakingnoheedofanythingbutFlora;now theprincipalheedhe tookofFlorawas toobserve,againsthiswill, that shewasvery fondofporter, that she combinedagreatdealofsherrywithsentiment,and that ifshewerea littleovergrown, itwasuponsubstantialgrounds.ThelastofthePatriarchshadalwaysbeenamightyeater,andhedisposedofanimmensequantityofsolidfoodwiththebenignityofagoodsoulwhowasfeedingsomeoneelse.MrPancks,whowasalwaysinahurry,andwhoreferredatintervalstoalittledirtynotebookwhichhekeptbesidehim(perhapscontainingthenamesof thedefaultershemeant to lookupbywayofdessert),tookinhisvictualsmuchasifhewerecoaling;withagood deal of noise, a good deal of dropping about, and a puff and a snortoccasionally,asifhewerenearlyreadytosteamaway.

All through dinner, Flora combined her present appetite for eating anddrinkingwithherpastappetiteforromanticlove,inawaythatmadeClennamafraid to lift his eyes from his plate; since he could not look towards herwithout receivingsomeglanceofmysteriousmeaningorwarning,as if theywereengagedinaplot.MrF.'sAuntsatsilentlydefyinghimwithanaspectofthegreatestbitterness,untiltheremovaloftheclothandtheappearanceofthedecanters,whensheoriginatedanotherobservationstruckintotheconversationlikeaclock,withoutconsultinganybody.

Florahadjustsaid,'MrClennam,willyougivemeaglassofportforMrF.'sAunt?'

'TheMonumentnearLondonBridge,'thatladyinstantlyproclaimed,'wasputupartertheGreatFireofLondon;andtheGreatFireofLondonwasnotthefireinwhichyouruncleGeorge'sworkshopswasburneddown.'

Mr Pancks, with his former courage, said, 'Indeed, ma'am? All right!' But

appearingtobeincensedbyimaginarycontradiction,orotherillusage,MrF.'sAunt, instead of relapsing into silence, made the following additionalproclamation:

'Ihateafool!'

She imparted to this sentiment, in itself almost Solomonic, so extremelyinjuriousandpersonalacharacterbylevellingitstraightatthevisitor'shead,thatitbecamenecessarytoleadMrF.'sAuntfromtheroom.ThiswasquietlydonebyFlora;MrF.'sAuntofferingnoresistance,but inquiringonherwayout,'Whathecometherefor,then?'withimplacableanimosity.

WhenFlorareturned,sheexplainedthatherlegacywasacleveroldlady,butwassometimesalittlesingular,and'tookdislikes'peculiaritiesofwhichFloraseemedtobeproudratherthanotherwise.AsFlora'sgoodnatureshoneinthecase,Clennamhadnofaulttofindwiththeoldladyforelicitingit,nowthathewasrelievedfromtheterrorsofherpresence;andtheytookaglassortwoof wine in peace. Foreseeing then that the Pancks would shortly get underweigh, and that thePatriarchwouldgo to sleep,hepleaded thenecessityofvisitinghismother,andaskedMrPancksinwhichdirectionhewasgoing?

'Citywards,sir,'saidPancks.'Shallwewalktogether?'saidArthur.

'Quiteagreeable,'saidPancks.

MeanwhileFlorawasmurmuringinrapidsnatchesforhisear,thattherewasatimeandthatthepastwasayawninggulfhoweverandthatagoldenchainnolongerboundhimandthatshereveredthememoryofthelateMrF.andthatsheshouldbeathometomorrowathalfpastoneandthatthedecreesofFatewerebeyondrecallandthatsheconsiderednothingsoimprobableas thatheeverwalkedonthenorthwestsideofGray'sInnGardensatexactlyfouro'clockin the afternoon. He tried at parting to give his hand in frankness to theexistingFloranotthevanishedFlora,orthemermaidbutFlorawouldn'thaveit,couldn'thave it,waswhollydestituteof thepowerof separatingherself andhimfromtheirbygonecharacters.Heleftthehousemiserablyenough;andsomuchmorelightheadedthanever,thatifithadnotbeenhisgoodfortunetobetowedaway,hemight,forthefirstquarterofanhour,havedriftedanywhere.

Whenhebegantocometohimself,inthecoolerairandtheabsenceofFlora,hefoundPancksat fullspeed,croppingsuchscantypasturageofnailsashecould find,andsnortingat intervals.These, inconjunctionwithonehand inhis pocket and his roughened hat hind side before, were evidently theconditionsunderwhichhereflected.

'Afreshnight!'saidArthur.

'Yes, it's pretty fresh,' assented Pancks. 'As a stranger you feel the climatemorethanIdo,Idaresay.IndeedIhaven'tgottimetofeelit.'

'Youleadsuchabusylife?'

'Yes,Ihavealwayssomeof'emtolookup,orsomethingtolookafter.ButIlikebusiness,'saidPancks,gettingonalittlefaster.'What'samanmadefor?'

'Fornothingelse?'saidClennam.

Pancks put the counter question, 'What else?' It packed up, in the smallestcompass,aweightthathadrestedonClennam'slife;andhemadenoanswer.

'That'swhatIaskourweeklytenants,'saidPancks.'Someof'emwillpulllongfaces to me, and say, Poor as you see us, master, we're always grinding,drudging,toiling,everyminutewe'reawake.

Isaytothem,Whatelseareyoumadefor?Itshutsthemup.Theyhaven'tawordtoanswer.Whatelseareyoumadefor?Thatclinchesit.'

'Ahdear,dear,dear!'sighedClennam.

'HereamI,'saidPancks,pursuinghisargumentwiththeweeklytenant.'WhatelsedoyousupposeIthinkIammadefor?Nothing.

Rattlemeoutofbedearly,setmegoing,givemeasshortatimeasyouliketoboltmymeals in,andkeepmeat it.Keepmealwaysat it,andI'llkeepyoualways at it, you keep somebody else always at it. There you are with theWholeDutyofManinacommercialcountry.'

Whentheyhadwalkedalittlefurtherinsilence,Clennamsaid:'Haveyounotasteforanything,MrPancks?'

'What'staste?'drilyretortedPancks.

'Letussayinclination.'

'I have an inclination to get money, sir,' said Pancks, 'if you will showmehow.'Heblewoffthatsoundagain,anditoccurredtohiscompanionforthefirst time that it was his way of laughing. He was a singular man in allrespects;hemightnothavebeenquiteinearnest,butthattheshort,hard,rapidmannerinwhichheshotoutthesecindersofprinciples,asifitweredonebymechanicalrevolvency,seemedirreconcilablewithbanter.

'Youarenogreatreader,Isuppose?'saidClennam.

'Never read anything but letters and accounts. Never collect anything but

advertisementsrelativetonextofkin.Ifthat'sataste,Ihavegotthat.You'renotoftheClennamsofCornwall,MrClennam?'

'NotthatIeverheardof.''Iknowyou'renot.Iaskedyourmother,sir.Shehastoomuchcharactertoletachanceescapeher.'

'Supposing I had been of the Clennams of Cornwall?' 'You'd have heard ofsomethingtoyouradvantage.'

'Indeed!Ihaveheardoflittleenoughtomyadvantageforsometime.'

'There'saCornishpropertygoingabegging,sir,andnotaCornishClennamtohaveitfortheasking,'saidPancks,takinghisnotebookfromhisbreastpocketandputtingitinagain.'Iturnoffhere.Iwishyougoodnight.'

'Good night!' said Clennam. But the Tug, suddenly lightened, anduntrammelledbyhavinganyweightintow,wasalreadypuffingawayintothedistance.

They had crossed Smithfield together, and Clennam was left alone at thecornerofBarbican.Hehadnointentionofpresentinghimselfinhismother'sdismalroomthatnight,andcouldnothavefeltmoredepressedandcastawayifhehadbeeninawilderness.HeturnedslowlydownAldersgateStreet,andwasponderinghiswayalongtowardsSaintPaul's,purposingtocomeintooneofthegreatthoroughfaresforthesakeoftheirlightandlife,whenacrowdofpeopleflockedtowardshimonthesamepavement,andhestoodasideagainstashoptoletthempass.Astheycameup,hemadeoutthattheyweregatheredaroundasomethingthatwascarriedonmen'sshoulders.Hesoonsawthatitwas a litter, hastilymade of a shutter or some such thing; and a recumbentfigure upon it, and the scraps of conversation in the crowd, and a muddybundlecarriedbyoneman,andamuddyhatcarriedbyanother,informedhimthat an accidenthadoccurred.The litter stoppedunder a lampbefore it hadpassedhimhalfadozenpaces, for some readjustmentof theburden; and, thecrowdstoppingtoo,hefoundhimselfinthemidstofthearray.

'An accident going to theHospital?' he asked an oldman beside him, whostoodshakinghishead,invitingconversation.

'Yes,' said theman, 'along of themMails. They ought to be prosecuted andfined, themMails.Theycomea racingoutofLadLaneandWoodStreetattwelveorfourteenmileahour,themMailsdo.Theonlywonderis,thatpeopleain'tkilledoftenerbythemMails.'

'Thispersonisnotkilled,Ihope?'

'Idon'tknow!'saidtheman,'itan'tforthewantofawillinthemMails,ifhe

an't.'Thespeakerhavingfoldedhisarms,andsetincomfortablytoaddresshisdepreciationofthemMailstoanyofthebystanderswhowouldlisten,severalvoices, out of pure sympathy with the sufferer, confirmed him; one voicesayingtoClennam,'They'reapublicnuisance,themMails,sir;'another,'Iseeoneon'empullupwithinhalfainchofaboy,lastnight;'another,'Iseeoneon'em go over a cat, sirand it might have been your own mother;' and allrepresenting, by implication, that if he happened to possess any publicinfluence,hecouldnotuseitbetterthanagainstthemMails.

'Why,anativeEnglishmanisput toiteverynightofhislife, tosavehislifefrom themMails,' argued the first old man; 'and he knows when they're acoming round the corner, to tear him limb from limb.What canyou expectfromapoorforeignerwhodon'tknownothingabout'em!'

'Isthisaforeigner?'saidClennam,leaningforwardtolook.

Inthemidstofsuchrepliesas'Frenchman,sir,''Porteghee,sir,''Dutchman,sir,''Prooshan, sir,' andother conflicting testimony, he nowheard a feeble voiceasking,bothinItalianandinFrench,forwater.Ageneralremarkgoinground,inreply,of 'Ah,poorfellow,hesayshe'llnevergetover it;andnowonder!'Clennambeggedtobeallowedtopass,asheunderstoodthepoorcreature.Hewasimmediatelyhandedtothefront,tospeaktohim.

'First, hewants somewater,' said he, looking round. (Adozengood fellowsdispersedtogetit.)'Areyoubadlyhurt,myfriend?'heaskedthemanonthelitter,inItalian.

'Yes,sir;yes,yes,yes.It'smyleg,it'smyleg.Butitpleasesmetoheartheoldmusic,thoughIamverybad.'

'Youarea traveller!Stay!See, thewater!Letmegiveyousome.'Theyhadrestedthelitteronapileofpavingstones.Itwasataconvenientheightfromtheground,andbystoopinghecouldlightlyraisetheheadwithonehandandhold theglass tohis lipswith theother.A little,muscular,brownman,withblackhairandwhiteteeth.Alivelyface,apparently.Earringsinhisears.

'That'swell.Youareatraveller?'

'Surely,sir.'

'Astrangerinthiscity?'

'Surely,surely,altogether.Iamarrivedthisunhappyevening.'

'Fromwhatcountry?''Marseilles.'

'Why,see there!Ialso!Almostasmuchastrangerhereasyou, thoughbornhere,IcamefromMarseillesalittlewhileago.Don'tbecastdown.'Thefacelookedupathimimploringly,asherosefromwipingit,andgentlyreplacedthecoat thatcovered thewrithing figure. 'Iwon't leaveyou tillyoushallbewelltakencareof.Courage!Youwillbeverymuchbetterhalfanhourhence.'

'Ah!Altro,Altro!'criedthepoorlittleman,inafaintlyincreduloustone;andas they took him up, hung out his right hand to give the forefinger abackhandedshakeintheair.

Arthur Clennam turned; and walking beside the litter, and saying anencouragingwordnowandthen,accompaniedittotheneighbouringhospitalof Saint Bartholomew. None of the crowd but the bearers and he beingadmitted,thedisabledmanwassoonlaidonatableinacool,methodicalway,andcarefullyexaminedbyasurgeonwhowasasnearathand,andasreadytoappearasCalamityherself.'HehardlyknowsanEnglishword,'saidClennam;'ishebadlyhurt?'

'Let us knowall about it first,' said the surgeon, continuing his examinationwithabusinesslikedelightinit,'beforewepronounce.'

After trying the leg with a finger, and two fingers, and one hand and twohands,andoverandunder,andupanddown,andinthisdirectionandinthat,andapprovinglyremarkingonthepointsofinteresttoanothergentlemanwhojoinedhim, thesurgeonat lastclapped thepatienton theshoulder,andsaid,'Hewon'thurt.He'lldoverywell.It'sdifficultenough,butweshallnotwanthimtopartwithhislegthistime.'WhichClennaminterpretedtothepatient,who was full of gratitude, and, in his demonstrative way, kissed both theinterpreter'shandandthesurgeon'sseveraltimes.

'It'saseriousinjury,Isuppose?'saidClennam.

'Yees,' replied the surgeon, with the thoughtful pleasure of an artistcontemplatingtheworkuponhiseasel.'Yes,it'senough.There'sacompoundfractureabovetheknee,andadislocationbelow.Theyarebothofabeautifulkind.'Hegavethepatientafriendlyclapontheshoulderagain,asifhereallyfelt thathewasaverygoodfellowindeed,andworthyofallcommendationforhavingbrokenhisleginamannerinterestingtoscience.

'HespeaksFrench?'saidthesurgeon.

'Ohyes,hespeaksFrench.'

'He'llbeatnolosshere, then.Youhaveonlytobearalittlepainlikeabravefellow,myfriend,andtobethankfulthatallgoesaswellasitdoes,'headded,

in that tongue, 'and you'll walk again to amarvel. Now, let us seewhetherthere'sanythingelsethematter,andhowourribsare?'

There was nothing else the matter, and our ribs were sound. Clennamremaineduntileverythingpossibletobedonehadbeenskilfullyandpromptlydonethe poor belated wanderer in a strange land movingly besought thatfavourofhimandlingeredbythebedtowhichhewasinduetimeremoved,untilhehadfallenintoadoze.Eventhenhewroteafewwordsforhimonhiscard,withapromisetoreturntomorrow,andleftittobegiventohimwhenheshould awake. All these proceedings occupied so long that it struck eleveno'clockatnightashecameoutattheHospitalGate.HehadhiredalodgingforthepresentinCoventGarden,andhetookthenearestwaytothatquarter,bySnowHillandHolborn.

Lefttohimselfagain,afterthesolicitudeandcompassionofhislastadventure,he was naturally in a thoughtful mood. As naturally, he could not walk onthinking for tenminuteswithout recalling Flora. She necessarily recalled tohimhislife,withallitsmisdirectionandlittlehappiness.

Whenhegottohislodging,hesatdownbeforethedyingfire,ashehadstoodat the window of his old room looking out upon the blackened forest ofchimneys,and turnedhisgazebackupon thegloomyvistabywhichhehadcometothatstageinhisexistence.Solong,sobare,soblank.Nochildhood;no youth, except for one remembrance; that one remembrance proved, onlythatday,tobeapieceoffolly.

Itwasamisfortunetohim,trifleasitmighthavebeentoanother.For,whileall that was hard and stern in his recollection, remained Reality on beingprovedwas obdurate to the sight and touch, and relaxed nothing of its oldindomitablegrimnesstheone tender recollectionofhisexperiencewouldnotbearthesametest,andmeltedaway.Hehadforeseenthis,ontheformernight,whenhehaddreamedwithwakingeyes,buthehadnotfeltitthen;andhehadnow.

Hewasadreamerinsuchwise,becausehewasamanwhohad,deeprootedinhisnature,abeliefinallthegentleandgoodthingshislifehadbeenwithout.Bred in meanness and hard dealing, this had rescued him to be a man ofhonourable mind and open hand. Bred in coldness and severity, this hadrescuedhimtohaveawarmandsympatheticheart.Bredinacreedtoodarklyaudacioustopursue,throughitsprocessofreservingthemakingofmanintheimageofhisCreator to themakingofhisCreator in the imageof an erringman, thishad rescuedhim to judgenot, and inhumility tobemerciful, andhavehopeandcharity.

Andthissavedhimstillfromthewhimperingweaknessandcruelselfishnessofholdingthatbecausesuchahappinessorsuchavirtuehadnotcomeintohislittlepath,orworkedwellforhim,thereforeitwasnotinthegreatscheme,butwas reducible, when found in appearance, to the basest elements. Adisappointed mind he had, but a mind too firm and healthy for suchunwholesome air. Leaving himself in the dark, it could rise into the light,seeingitshineonothersandhailingit.

Therefore, he sat before his dying fire, sorrowful to think upon theway bywhichhehadcometothatnight,yetnotstrewingpoisononthewaybywhichothermenhadcometoit.Thatheshouldhavemissedsomuch,andathistimeoflifeshouldlooksofarabouthimforanystaff tobearhimcompanyuponhis downward journey and cheer it,was a just regret.He looked at the firefromwhich theblazedeparted, fromwhich theafterglowsubsided, inwhichthe ashes turned grey, fromwhich they dropped to dust, and thought, 'HowsoonItooshallpassthroughsuchchanges,andbegone!'

To review his lifewas like descending a green tree in fruit and flower, andseeing all the branches wither and drop off, one by one, as he came downtowardsthem.

'From the unhappy suppression ofmy youngest days, through the rigid andunlovinghomethatfollowedthem,throughmydeparture,mylongexile,myreturn, my mother's welcome, my intercourse with her since, down to theafternoon of this day with poor Flora,' said Arthur Clennam, 'what have Ifound!'

Hisdoorwassoftlyopened,andthesespokenwordsstartledhim,andcameasiftheywereananswer:

'LittleDorrit.'

CHAPTER14.

LittleDorrit'sParty

ArthurClennam rose hastily, and sawher standing at the door.This historymust sometimes seewithLittleDorrit's eyes, and shall begin that coursebyseeinghim.

LittleDorritlookedintoadimroom,whichseemedaspaciousonetoher,and

grandly furnished.Courtly ideas ofCoventGarden, as a placewith famouscoffeehouses, where gentlemen wearing goldlaced coats and swords hadquarrelledandfoughtduels;costlyideasofCoventGarden,asaplacewheretherewereflowersinwinteratguineasapiece,pineapplesatguineasapound,and peas at guineas a pint; picturesque ideas of Covent Garden, as a placewheretherewasamightytheatre,showingwonderfulandbeautifulsights torichlydressed ladies and gentlemen, andwhichwas for ever far beyond thereachofpoorFannyorpooruncle;desolateideasofCoventGarden,ashavingall thosearches in it,where themiserablechildren inragsamongwhomshehad just now passed, like young rats, slunk and hid, fed on offal, huddledtogetherforwarmth,andwerehuntedabout(looktotheratsyoungandold,allyeBarnacles, forbeforeGod theyareeatingawayour foundations,andwillbringtheroofsonourheads!);teemingideasofCoventGarden,asaplaceofpast and present mystery, romance, abundance, want, beauty, ugliness, faircountrygardens,andfoulstreetgutters;allconfusedtogether,madetheroomdimmerthanitwasinLittleDorrit'seyes,astheytimidlysawitfromthedoor.

Atfirstinthechairbeforethegoneoutfire,andthenturnedroundwonderingtoseeher,wasthegentlemanwhomshesought.Thebrown,gravegentleman,who smiled so pleasantly,whowas so frank and considerate in hismanner,and yet inwhose earnestness therewas something that reminded her of hismother,with the great difference that shewas earnest in asperity and he ingentleness.NowheregardedherwiththatattentiveandinquiringlookbeforewhichLittleDorrit'seyeshadalwaysfallen,andbeforewhichtheyfellstill.

'Mypoorchild!Hereatmidnight?'

'IsaidLittleDorrit,sir,onpurposetoprepareyou.Iknewyoumustbeverymuchsurprised.'

'Areyoualone?'

'Nosir,IhavegotMaggywithme.'

Considering her entrance sufficiently prepared for by this mention of hername, Maggy appeared from the landing outside, on the broad grin. Sheinstantlysuppressedthatmanifestation,however,andbecamefixedlysolemn.

'And I have no fire,' said Clennam. 'And you are' He was going to say solightlyclad,butstoppedhimself inwhatwouldhavebeenareferencetoherpoverty,sayinginstead,'Anditissocold.'

Puttingthechairfromwhichhehadrisennearertothegrate,hemadehersitdowninit;andhurriedlybringingwoodandcoal,heapedthemtogetherandgotablaze.

'Your foot is like marble, my child;' he had happened to touch it, whilestooping on one knee at his work of kindling the fire; 'put it nearer thewarmth.' Little Dorrit thanked him hastily. It was quite warm, it was verywarm!Itsmoteuponhishearttofeelthatshehidherthin,wornshoe.

LittleDorritwasnotashamedofherpoorshoes.Heknewherstory,anditwasnotthat.LittleDorrithadamisgivingthathemightblameherfather,ifhesawthem;thathemightthink,'whydidhedinetoday,andleavethislittlecreaturetothemercyofthecoldstones!'Shehadnobeliefthatitwouldhavebeenajust reflection; she simply knew, by experience, that such delusions didsometimes present themselves to people. It was a part of her father'smisfortunesthattheydid.

'BeforeIsayanythingelse,'LittleDorritbegan,sittingbeforethepalefire,andraisinghereyesagaintothefacewhichinitsharmoniouslookofinterest,andpity, and protection, she felt to be a mystery far above her in degree, andalmostremovedbeyondherguessingat;'mayItellyousomething,sir?'

'Yes,mychild.'Aslightshadeofdistressfelluponher,athissooftencallingherachild.Shewassurprisedthatheshouldsee it,or thinkofsuchaslightthing; but he said directly: 'I wanted a tender word, and could think of noother.Asyoujustnowgaveyourselfthenametheygiveyouatmymother's,andasthatisthenamebywhichIalwaysthinkofyou,letmecallyouLittleDorrit.'

'Thankyou,sir,Ishouldlikeitbetterthananyname.'

'LittleDorrit.'

'Littlemother,'Maggy(whohadbeenfallingasleep)putin,asacorrection.

'It'sallthesame,Maggy,'returnedLittleDorrit,'allthesame.'

'Isitallthesame,mother?'

'Justthesame.'

Maggylaughed,andimmediatelysnored.InLittleDorrit'seyesandears,theuncouthfigureandtheuncouthsoundwereaspleasantascouldbe.Therewasaglowofprideinherbigchild,overspreadingherface,whenitagainmettheeyesofthegravebrowngentleman.Shewonderedwhathewasthinkingof,ashe looked atMaggy and her. She thoughtwhat a good father hewould be.How,withsomesuchlook,hewouldcounselandcherishhisdaughter.

'WhatIwasgoingtotellyou,sir,'saidLittleDorrit,'is,thatMYbrotherisatlarge.'

Arthurwasrejoicedtohearit,andhopedhewoulddowell.

'AndwhatIwasgoingtotellyou,sir,'saidLittleDorrit,tremblinginallherlittle figure and in her voice, 'is, that I am not to know whose generosityreleasedhimamnevertoask,andamnevertobetold,andamnevertothankthatgentlemanwithallMYgratefulheart!'

Hewould probably need no thanks,Clennam said.Very likely hewould bethankfulhimself(andwithreason),thathehadhadthemeansandchanceofdoingalittleservicetoher,whowelldeservedagreatone.

'Andwhat Iwasgoing to say, sir, is,' saidLittleDorrit, tremblingmoreandmore, 'that if I knew him, and Imight, I would tell him that he can never,neverknowhowIfeelhisgoodness,andhowmygoodfatherwouldfeel it.AndwhatIwasgoingtosay,sir,is,thatifIknewhim,andImightbutIdon'tknowhimand ImustnotIknow that!Iwould tellhim that I shallneveranymore lie down to sleepwithout having prayed to Heaven to bless him andrewardhim.AndifIknewhim,andImight,Iwouldgodownonmykneestohim,andtakehishandandkissitandaskhimnottodrawitaway,buttoleaveitOtoleaveitforamomentandletmythankfultearsfallonit;forIhavenootherthankstogivehim!'

LittleDorrithadputhishandtoherlips,andwouldhavekneeledtohim,buthegentlypreventedher,andreplacedherinherchair.

Her eyes, and the tones of her voice, had thanked him far better than shethought.Hewasnotable tosay,quiteascomposedlyasusual, 'There,LittleDorrit,there,there,there!Wewillsupposethatyoudidknowthisperson,andthatyoumightdoallthis,andthatitwasalldone.Andnowtellme,Whoamquiteanotherpersonwhoamnothingmorethanthefriendwhobeggedyoutotrust himwhy you are out atmidnight, andwhat it is that brings you so farthroughthestreetsatthislatehour,myslight,delicate,'childwasonhislipsagain,'LittleDorrit!'

'MaggyandIhavebeentonight,'sheanswered,subduingherselfwiththequieteffort that had long been natural to her, 'to the theatre where my sister isengaged.'

'Andohain't it aEv'nlyplace,' suddenly interruptedMaggy,who seemed tohavethepowerofgoingtosleepandwakingupwhenevershechose.'Almostasgoodasahospital.Onlythereain'tnoChickinginit.'

Heresheshookherself,andfellasleepagain.

'We went there,' said Little Dorrit, glancing at her charge, 'because I like

sometimestoknow,ofmyownknowledge, thatmysister isdoingwell;andliketoseeherthere,withmyowneyes,whenneithershenorUncleisaware.ItisveryseldomindeedthatIcandothat,becausewhenIamnotoutatwork,Iamwithmyfather,andevenwhenIamoutatwork,Ihurryhometohim.ButIpretendtonightthatIamataparty.'

Asshemadetheconfession,timidlyhesitating,sheraisedhereyestotheface,and read its expression so plainly that she answered it. 'Oh no, certainly! Ineverwasataparty inmy life.'Shepauseda littleunderhisattentive look,and thensaid, 'Ihope there isnoharmin it. Icouldneverhavebeenofanyuse,ifIhadnotpretendedalittle.'

Shefearedthathewasblamingherinhismindforsodevisingtocontriveforthem, think for them, and watch over them, without their knowledge orgratitude;perhapsevenwiththeirreproachesforsupposedneglect.Butwhatwasreally inhismind,wastheweakfigurewith itsstrongpurpose, the thinworn shoes, the insufficient dress, and the pretence of recreation andenjoyment.Heaskedwherethesuppositiouspartywas?Ataplacewheresheworked,answeredLittleDorrit,blushing.Shehadsaidverylittleaboutit;onlyafewwordstomakeherfathereasy.Herfatherdidnotbelieveittobeagrandpartyindeedhemightsupposethat.Andsheglancedforaninstantattheshawlshewore.

'Itisthefirstnight,'saidLittleDorrit,'thatIhaveeverbeenawayfromhome.AndLondonlookssolarge,sobarren,andsowild.'InLittleDorrit'seyes,itsvastnessundertheblackskywasawful;atremorpassedoverherasshesaidthewords.

'But this isnot,' sheadded,with thequieteffortagain, 'what Ihavecome totroubleyouwith,sir.Mysister'shavingfoundafriend,aladyshehastoldmeofandmademeratheranxiousabout,wasthefirstcauseofmycomingawayfromhome.Andbeingaway, andcoming (onpurpose) roundbywhereyoulivedandseeingalightinthewindow'

Not for the first time.No, not for the first time. In LittleDorrit's eyes, theoutsideof thatwindowhadbeenadistantstaronothernights than this.Shehadtoiledoutofherway,tiredandtroubled,tolookupatit,andwonderaboutthegrave,browngentlemanfromsofaroff,whohadspokentoherasafriendandprotector.

'Therewerethreethings,'saidLittleDorrit,'thatIthoughtIwouldliketosay,ifyouwerealoneandImightcomeupstairs.First,whatIhavetriedtosay,butnevercannevershall'

'Hush,hush!That isdonewith, anddisposedof.Letuspass to the second,'

saidClennam, smilingher agitation away,making theblaze shineuponher,andputtingwineandcakeandfruittowardsheronthetable.

'I think,' said Little Dorrit'this is the second thing, sirI thinkMrs Clennammusthavefoundoutmysecret,andmustknowwhereIcomefromandwhereIgoto.WhereIlive,Imean.'

'Indeed!' returned Clennam quickly. He asked her, after short consideration,whyshesupposedso.

'Ithink,'repliedLittleDorrit,'thatMrFlintwinchmusthavewatchedme.'

Andwhy,Clennamasked,asheturnedhiseyesuponthefire,benthisbrows,andconsideredagain;whydidshesupposethat?

'Ihavemethimtwice.Bothtimesnearhome.Bothtimesatnight,whenIwasgoingback.BothtimesIthought(thoughthatmayeasilybemymistake),thathehardlylookedasifhehadmetmebyaccident.''Didhesayanything?'

'No;heonlynoddedandputhisheadononeside.'

'Thedeviltakehishead!'musedClennam,stilllookingatthefire;'it'salwaysononeside.'Herousedhimselftopersuadehertoputsomewinetoherlips,andtotouchsomethingtoeatitwasverydifficult,shewassotimidandshyandthensaid,musingagain:'Ismymotheratallchangedtoyou?'

'Oh,notatall.Sheis just thesame.IwonderedwhetherIhadbetter tellhermyhistory.IwonderedwhetherImightImean,whetheryouwouldlikemetotellher.Iwondered,'saidLittleDorrit,lookingathiminasuppliantway,andgraduallywithdrawinghereyesashelookedather,'whetheryouwouldadvisemewhatIoughttodo.'

'LittleDorrit,'saidClennam;andthephrasehadalreadybegun,betweenthesetwo,tostandforahundredgentlephrases,accordingtothevaryingtoneandconnection inwhich itwasused; 'donothing. Iwillhavesometalkwithmyold friend,MrsAffery.Donothing,LittleDorritexcept refreshyourselfwithsuchmeansastherearehere.Ientreatyoutodothat.'

'Thankyou,Iamnothungry.Nor,'saidLittleDorrit,ashesoftlyputherglasstowardsher,'northirsty.IthinkMaggymightlikesomething,perhaps.'

'Wewillmakeherfindpocketspresentlyforallthereishere,'saidClennam:'butbeforeweawakeher,therewasathirdthingtosay.'

'Yes.Youwillnotbeoffended,sir?'

'Ipromisethat,unreservedly.'

'Itwillsoundstrange.Ihardlyknowhowtosayit.Don'tthinkitunreasonableorungratefulinme,'saidLittleDorrit,withreturningandincreasingagitation.

'No,no,no.Iamsureitwillbenaturalandright.IamnotafraidthatIshallputawrongconstructiononit,whateveritis.'

'Thankyou.Youarecomingbacktoseemyfatheragain?'

'Yes.'

'Youhavebeensogoodandthoughtfulastowritehimanote,sayingthatyouarecomingtomorrow?'

'Oh,thatwasnothing!Yes.'

'Canyouguess,'saidLittleDorrit,foldinghersmallhandstightinoneanother,andlookingathimwithalltheearnestnessofhersoullookingsteadilyoutofhereyes,'whatIamgoingtoaskyounottodo?'

'IthinkIcan.ButImaybewrong.''No,youarenotwrong,'saidLittleDorrit,shakingherhead.'Ifweshouldwantitsovery,verybadlythatwecannotdowithoutit,letmeaskyouforit.'

'IWill,IWill.'

'Don'tencouragehimtoask.Don'tunderstandhimifhedoesask.Don'tgiveittohim.Savehimandsparehimthat,andyouwillbeable to thinkbetterofhim!'

Clennam saidnot very plainly, seeing those tears glistening in her anxiouseyesthatherwishshouldbesacredwithhim.

'Youdon'tknowwhatheis,'shesaid;'youdon'tknowwhathereallyis.Howcanyou,seeinghimthereallatonce,dearlove,andnotgradually,asIhavedone!Youhavebeensogoodtous,sodelicatelyandtrulygood,thatIwanthimtobebetter inyoureyes than inanybody's.AndIcannotbear to think,'criedLittleDorrit, coveringher tearswithherhands, 'I cannotbear to thinkthatyouofalltheworldshouldseehiminhisonlymomentsofdegradation.'

'Pray,'saidClennam,'donotbesodistressed.Pray,pray,LittleDorrit!Thisisquiteunderstoodnow.'

'Thankyou,sir.Thankyou!Ihavetriedverymuchtokeepmyselffromsayingthis;Ihavethoughtaboutit,daysandnights;butwhenIknewforcertainyouwere coming again, Imadeupmymind to speak toyou.Not because I amashamedofhim,'shedriedher tearsquickly, 'butbecauseIknowhimbetterthananyonedoes,andlovehim,andamproudofhim.'

Relieved of this weight, Little Dorrit was nervously anxious to be gone.Maggybeingbroadawake,and in theactofdistantlygloatingover thefruitandcakeswithchucklesofanticipation,Clennammadethebestdiversioninhispowerbypouringheroutaglassofwine,whichshedrankinaseriesofloudsmacks;puttingherhanduponherwindpipeaftereveryone,andsaying,breathless,with her eyes in a prominent state, 'Oh, ain't it d'licious!Ain't ithospitally!'Whenshehadfinishedthewineandtheseencomiums,hechargedher to loadherbasket (shewasneverwithoutherbasket)witheveryeatablething upon the table, and to take especial care to leave no scrap behind.Maggy's pleasure in doing this and her little mother's pleasure in seeingMaggypleased,wasasgoodaturnascircumstancescouldhavegiventothelateconversation.

'But the gates will have been locked long ago,' said Clennam, suddenlyrememberingit.'Whereareyougoing?'

'IamgoingtoMaggy'slodging,'answeredLittleDorrit.'Ishallbequitesafe,quitewelltakencareof.'

'Imustaccompanyyouthere,'saidClennam,'Icannotletyougoalone.'

'Yes,prayleaveustogotherebyourselves.Praydo!'beggedLittleDorrit.

Shewassoearnest in thepetition, thatClennamfeltadelicacy inobtrudinghimselfuponher: the rather,becausehecouldwellunderstand thatMaggy'slodgingwasof theobscurestsort. 'Come,Maggy,'saidLittleDorritcheerily,'weshalldoverywell;weknowthewaybythistime,Maggy?'

'Yes,yes, littlemother;weknow theway,' chuckledMaggy.Andaway theywent.LittleDorritturnedatthedoortosay,'Godblessyou!'Shesaiditverysoftly,butperhapsshemayhavebeenasaudibleabovewhoknows!asawholecathedralchoir.

Arthur Clennam suffered them to pass the corner of the street before hefollowed at a distance; not with any idea of encroaching a second time onLittle Dorrit's privacy, but to satisfy his mind by seeing her secure in theneighbourhood towhich shewas accustomed. So diminutive she looked, sofragile anddefenceless against the bleakdampweather, flitting along in theshufflingshadowofhercharge,thathefelt,inhiscompassion,andinhishabitof considering her a child apart from the rest of the rough world, as if hewouldhavebeengladtotakeherupinhisarmsandcarryhertoherjourney'send.

IncourseoftimeshecameintotheleadingthoroughfarewheretheMarshalseawas,andthenhesawthemslackentheirpace,andsoonturndownabystreet.

Hestopped, felt thathehadno right togo further, andslowly left them.Hehadnosuspicionthattheyrananyriskofbeinghouselessuntilmorning;hadnoideaofthetruthuntillong,longafterwards.

But,saidLittleDorrit,whentheystoppedatapoordwellingall indarkness,andheardnosoundonlisteningatthedoor, 'Now,thisisagoodlodgingforyou,Maggy,andwemustnotgiveoffence.Consequently,wewillonlyknocktwice,andnotveryloud;andifwecannotwakethemso,wemustwalkabouttillday.'

Once, LittleDorrit knockedwith a careful hand, and listened. Twice, LittleDorrit knocked with a careful hand, and listened. All was close and still.'Maggy,wemustdothebestwecan,mydear.Wemustbepatient,andwaitforday.'

Itwasachilldarknight,withadampwindblowing,whentheycameoutintotheleadingstreetagain,andheardtheclocksstrikehalfpastone.'Inonlyfivehoursandahalf,'saidLittleDorrit,'weshallbeabletogohome.'Tospeakofhome,andtogoandlookatit,itbeingsonear,wasanaturalsequence.Theywent to theclosedgate,andpeeped throughinto thecourtyard. 'Ihopehe issound asleep,' saidLittleDorrit, kissing one of the bars, 'and does notmissme.'

The gate was so familiar, and so like a companion, that they put downMaggy's basket in a corner to serve for a seat, and keeping close together,restedthereforsometime.Whilethestreetwasemptyandsilent,LittleDorritwasnotafraid;butwhensheheardafootstepatadistance,orsawamovingshadowamongthestreetlamps,shewasstartled,andwhispered,'Maggy,Iseesomeone.Comeaway!'Maggywouldthenwakeupmoreorlessfretfully,andtheywouldwanderaboutalittle,andcomebackagain.

As long as eating was a novelty and an amusement,Maggy kept up prettywell. But that period going by, she became querulous about the cold, andshivered and whimpered. 'It will soon be over, dear,' said Little Dorritpatiently.'Ohit'sallveryfineforyou,littlemother,'returnedMaggy,'butI'mapoorthing,onlytenyearsold.'Atlast,inthedeadofthenight,whenthestreetwasverystill indeed,LittleDorrit laid theheavyheaduponherbosom,andsoothedhertosleep.Andthusshesatatthegate,asitwerealone;lookingupatthestars,andseeingthecloudspassoverthemintheirwildflightwhichwasthedanceatLittleDorrit'sparty.

'Ifitreallywasaparty!'shethoughtonce,asshesatthere.'Ifitwaslightandwarmandbeautiful,and itwasourhouse,andmypoordearwas itsmaster,

andhadneverbeeninsidethesewalls.

AndifMrClennamwasoneofourvisitors,andweweredancingtodelightfulmusic, andwere all as gay and lighthearted as everwe could be! Iwonder'Suchavistaofwonderopenedoutbeforeher, thatshesat lookingupat thestars,quite lost,untilMaggywasquerulousagain,andwantedtogetupandwalk.

Threeo'clock, andhalfpast three, and theyhadpassedoverLondonBridge.Theyhadheardtherushofthetideagainstobstacles;andlookeddown,awed,through the dark vapour on the river; had seen little spots of lightedwaterwherethebridgelampswerereflected,shininglikedemoneyes,withaterriblefascination in them for guilt and misery. They had shrunk past homelesspeople, lying coiled up in nooks. They had run from drunkards. They hadstartedfromslinkingmen,whistlingandsigningtooneanotheratbyecorners,or runningawayat full speed.Thougheverywhere the leaderand theguide,LittleDorrit, happy for once in her youthful appearance, feigned to cling toandrelyuponMaggy.Andmorethanoncesomevoice,fromamongaknotofbrawlingorprowlingfiguresintheirpath,hadcalledouttotherestto'letthewomanandthechildgoby!'

So,thewomanandthechildhadgoneby,andgoneon,andfivehadsoundedfromthesteeples.Theywerewalkingslowlytowardstheeast,alreadylookingforthefirstpalestreakofday,whenawomancameafterthem.

'Whatareyoudoingwiththechild?'shesaidtoMaggy.

Shewasyoungfartooyoungtobethere,Heavenknows!andneitheruglynorwickedlooking.Shespokecoarsely,butwithnonaturallycoarsevoice; therewasevensomethingmusicalinitssound.'Whatareyoudoingwithyourself?'retortedMaggy,forwantOfabetteranswer.

'Can'tyousee,withoutmytellingyou?'

'Idon'tknowasIcan,'saidMaggy.

'Killingmyself!NowIhaveansweredyou,answerme.Whatareyoudoingwiththechild?'

Thesupposedchildkeptherheaddroopeddown,andkeptherformcloseatMaggy'sside.

'Poor thing!' said thewoman. 'Haveyounofeeling, thatyoukeepherout inthecruelstreetsatsucha timeas this?Haveyounoeyes, thatyoudon'tseehowdelicateandslendersheis?Haveyounosense(youdon'tlookasifyouhad much) that you don't take more pity on this cold and trembling little

hand?'

Shehadsteppedacrosstothatside,andheldthehandbetweenherowntwo,chafingit.'Kissapoorlostcreature,dear,'shesaid,bendingherface,'andtellmewhere'sshetakingyou.'

LittleDorritturnedtowardsher.

'Why,myGod!'shesaid,recoiling,'you'reawoman!'

'Don't mind that!' said Little Dorrit, clasping one of her hands that hadsuddenlyreleasedhers.'Iamnotafraidofyou.'

'Thenyouhadbetterbe,'sheanswered.'Haveyounomother?'

'No.'

'Nofather?'

'Yes,averydearone.'

'Gohometohim,andbeafraidofme.Letmego.Goodnight!'

'Imustthankyoufirst;letmespeaktoyouasifIreallywereachild.'

'You can't do it,' said thewoman. 'You are kind and innocent; but you can'tlookatmeoutofachild'seyes.Inevershouldhavetouchedyou,butIthoughtthatyouwereachild.'Andwithastrange,wildcry,shewentaway.

Nodayyetinthesky,buttherewasdayintheresoundingstonesofthestreets;in the waggons, carts, and coaches; in the workers going to variousoccupations;intheopeningofearlyshops;inthetrafficatmarkets;inthestirof the riverside. Therewas coming day in the flaring lights, with a feeblercolourinthemthantheywouldhavehadatanother time;comingdayintheincreasedsharpnessoftheair,andtheghastlydyingofthenight.

Theywentbackagaintothegate,intendingtowaittherenowuntilitshouldbeopened;buttheairwassorawandcoldthatLittleDorrit, leadingMaggyaboutinhersleep,keptinmotion.GoingroundbytheChurch,shesawlightsthere,andthedooropen;andwentupthestepsandlookedin.

'Who's that?' cried a stout oldman,whowas putting on a nightcap as if heweregoingtobedinavault.

'It'snooneparticular,sir,'saidLittleDorrit.

'Stop!'criedtheman.'Let'shavealookatyou!'

This caused her to turn back again in the act of going out, and to presentherselfandherchargebeforehim.

'Ithoughtso!'saidhe.'IknowYOU.'

'Wehaveoftenseeneachother,'saidLittleDorrit,recognisingthesexton,orthe beadle, or the verger, orwhatever hewas, 'when I have been at churchhere.'

'Morethanthat,we'vegotyourbirthinourRegister,youknow;you'reoneofourcuriosities.'

'Indeed!'saidLittleDorrit.

'Tobesure.Asthechildofthebythebye,howdidyougetoutsoearly?'

'Wewereshutoutlastnight,andarewaitingtogetin.'

'Youdon'tmeanit?Andthere'sanotherhourgoodyet!Comeintothevestry.You'llfindafireinthevestry,onaccountofthepainters.I'mwaitingforthepainters,orIshouldn'tbehere,youmaydependuponit.Oneofourcuriositiesmustn't be coldwhenwehave it inourpower towarmherup comfortable.Comealong.'

Hewas a very good old fellow, in his familiarway; and having stirred thevestry fire, he looked round the shelvesof registers for aparticularvolume.'Hereyouare,yousee,'hesaid, takingitdownandturningthe leaves. 'Hereyou'll find yourself, as large as life. Amy, daughter of William and FannyDorrit.Born,MarshalseaPrison,ParishofStGeorge.Andwetellpeoplethatyou have lived there,without somuch as a day's or a night's absence, eversince.Isittrue?'

'Quitetrue,tilllastnight.''Lord!'ButhissurveyingherwithanadmiringgazesuggestedSomethingelsetohim,towit: 'Iamsorrytosee,though,thatyouarefaintandtired.Stayabit.I'llgetsomecushionsoutofthechurch,andyouandyourfriendshallliedownbeforethefire.

Don'tbeafraidofnotgoingintojoinyourfatherwhenthegateopens.I'llcallyou.'

Hesoonbroughtinthecushions,andstrewedthemontheground.

'Thereyouare,yousee.Againaslargeaslife.Oh,nevermindthanking.I'vedaughtersofmyown.Andthoughtheyweren'tbornintheMarshalseaPrison,they might have been, if I had been, in my ways of carrying on, of yourfather's breed. Stop a bit. Imust put something under the cushion for your

head.Here'saburialvolume,justthething!WehavegotMrsBanghaminthisbook.Butwhatmakes thesebooks interesting tomostpeople isnotwho's in'em, butwho isn'twho's coming, youknow, andwhen.That's the interestingquestion.'

Commendinglylookingbackatthepillowhehadimprovised,heleftthemtotheirhour'srepose.Maggywassnoringalready,andLittleDorritwassoonfastasleepwith her head resting on that sealed book of Fate, untroubled by itsmysteriousblankleaves.

This was Little Dorrit's party. The shame, desertion, wretchedness, andexposureofthegreatcapital;thewet,thecold,theslowhours,andtheswiftcloudsofthedismalnight.ThiswasthepartyfromwhichLittleDorritwenthome,jaded,inthefirstgreymistofarainymorning.

CHAPTER15.

MrsFlintwinchhasanotherDream

Thedebilitatedoldhouseinthecity,wrappedinitsmantleofsoot,andleaningheavilyon the crutches that hadpartakenof its decay andwornoutwith it,neverknewahealthyoracheerfulinterval,letwhatwouldbetide.Ifthesunevertouchedit,itwasbutwitharay,andthatwasgoneinhalfanhour;ifthemoonlight ever fell upon it, itwas only to put a few patches on its dolefulcloak,andmakeitlookmorewretched.Thestars,tobesure,coldlywatcheditwhenthenightsandthesmokewereclearenough;andallbadweatherstoodby it with a rare fidelity. You should alike find rain, hail, frost, and thawlingeringinthatdismalenclosurewhentheyhadvanishedfromotherplaces;andas to snow,youshould see it there forweeks, longafter ithadchangedfromyellowtoblack,slowlyweepingaway itsgrimylife.Theplacehadnootheradherents.Astostreetnoises,therumblingofwheelsinthelanemerelyrushed in at the gateway in going past, and rushed out again: making thelisteningMistressAfferyfeelasifsheweredeaf,andrecoveredthesenseofhearingbyinstantaneousflashes.Sowithwhistling,singing,talking,laughing,andallpleasanthumansounds.They leaped thegap inamoment,andwentupontheirway.Thevarying lightoffireandcandle inMrsClennam'sroommadethegreatestchangethateverbrokethedeadmonotonyofthespot.Inhertwo long narrow windows, the fire shone sullenly all day, and sullenly allnight.Onrareoccasionsitflasheduppassionately,asshedid;butforthemost

part it was suppressed, like her, and preyed upon itself evenly and slowly.Duringmanyhoursoftheshortwinterdays,however,whenitwasduskthereearlyintheafternoon,changingdistortionsofherselfinherwheeledchair,ofMrFlintwinchwithhiswryneck,ofMistressAfferycomingandgoing,wouldbe thrownupon thehousewall thatwasover thegateway, andwouldhoverthere like shadows from a great magic lantern. As the roomridden invalidsettled for the night, these would gradually disappear: Mistress Affery'smagnifiedshadowalwaysflittingabout, last,until itfinallyglidedawayintotheair,asthoughshewereoffuponawitchexcursion.Thenthesolitarylightwouldburnunchangingly,untilitburnedpalebeforethedawn,andatlastdiedunder the breath of Mrs Affery, as her shadow descended on it from thewitchregionofsleep.

Strange, if the little sickroom fire were in effect a beacon fire, summoningsomeone,andthat themostunlikelysomeoneintheworld, to thespot thatMUST be come to. Strange, if the little sickroom light were in effect awatchlight,burning in thatplaceeverynightuntilanappointedeventshouldbewatchedout!Whichofthevastmultitudeof travellers,underthesunandthe stars, climbing the dusty hills and toiling along the weary plains,journeyingbylandandjourneyingbysea,comingandgoingsostrangely,tomeet and to act and react on one another; which of the host may, with nosuspicionofthejourney'send,betravellingsurelyhither?

Timeshallshowus.Thepostofhonourandthepostofshame, thegeneral'sstation and the drummer's, a peer's statue in Westminster Abbey and aseaman'shammockinthebosomofthedeep,themitreandtheworkhouse,thewoolsackandthegallows,thethroneandtheguillotinethetravellerstoallareonthegreathighroad,butithaswonderfuldivergencies,andonlyTimeshallshowuswhithereachtravellerisbound.

Onawintryafternoonattwilight,MrsFlintwinch,havingbeenheavyallday,dreamedthisdream:

She thought shewas in thekitchengetting thekettle ready for tea, andwaswarmingherselfwithherfeetuponthefenderandtheskirtofhergowntuckedup,beforethecollapsedfireinthemiddleofthegrate,borderedoneitherhandbyadeepcoldblackravine.Shethoughtthatasshesatthus,musinguponthequestionwhetherlifewasnotforsomepeoplearatherdullinvention,shewasfrightened by a sudden noise behind her. She thought that she had beensimilarly frightened once lastweek, and that the noisewas of amysteriouskindasoundofrustlingandofthreeorfourquickbeatslikearapidstep;whileashockortremblewascommunicatedtoherheart,asif thestephadshakenthefloor,orevenasifshehadbeentouchedbysomeawfulhand.Shethoughtthat this revived within her certain old fears of hers that the house was

haunted;andthatsheflewupthekitchenstairswithoutknowinghowshegotup,tobenearercompany.

MistressAfferythoughtthatonreachingthehall,shesawthedoorofherliegelord'sofficestandingopen,andtheroomempty.Thatshewenttotherippedupwindowin the little roombythestreetdoor toconnectherpalpitatingheart,through the glass,with living things beyond and outside the haunted house.Thatshethensaw,onthewalloverthegateway,theshadowsofthetwocleveronesinconversationabove.Thatshethenwentupstairswithhershoesinherhand,partlytobenearthecleveronesasamatchformostghosts,andpartlytohearwhattheyweretalkingabout.

'None of your nonsensewithme,' saidMr Flintwinch. 'I won't take it fromyou.'

MrsFlintwinchdreamedthatshestoodbehindthedoor,whichwasjustajar,andmostdistinctlyheardherhusbandsaytheseboldwords.

'Flintwinch,'returnedMrsClennam,inherusualstronglowvoice, 'thereisademonofangerinyou.Guardagainstit.'

'I don't care whether there's one or a dozen,' said Mr Flintwinch, forciblysuggesting in his tone that the higher numberwas nearer themark. 'If therewasfifty,theyshouldallsay,Noneofyournonsensewithme,Iwon'ttakeitfromyouI'dmake'emsayit,whethertheylikeditornot.'

'WhathaveIdone,youwrathfulman?'herstrongvoiceasked.

'Done?'saidMrFlintwinch.'Droppeddownuponme.'

'Ifyoumean,remonstratedwithyou'

'Don'tputwordsintomymouththatIdon'tmean,'saidJeremiah,stickingtohis figurativeexpressionwith tenaciousand impenetrableobstinacy: 'Imeandroppeddownuponme.'

'Iremonstratedwithyou,'shebeganagain,'because'

'Iwon'thaveit!'criedJeremiah.'Youdroppeddownuponme.'

'Idroppeddownuponyou,then,youillconditionedman,'(Jeremiahchuckledat having forced her to adopt his phrase,) 'for having been needlesslysignificanttoArthurthatmorning.Ihavearighttocomplainofitasalmostabreachofconfidence.Youdidnotmeanit'

'I won't have it!' interposed the contradictory Jeremiah, flinging back theconcession.'Ididmeanit.'

'IsupposeImust leaveyoutospeakinsoliloquyifyouchoose,'shereplied,afterapausethatseemedanangryone.'Itisuselessmyaddressingmyselftoarashandheadstrongoldmanwhohasasetpurposenottohearme.'

'Now, I won't take that from you either,' said Jeremiah. 'I have no suchpurpose.IhavetoldyouIdidmeanit.DoyouwishtoknowwhyImeantit,yourashandheadstrongoldwoman?'

'Afterall,youonly restorememyownwords,' shesaid, strugglingwithherindignation.'Yes.'

'Thisiswhy,then.Becauseyouhadn'tclearedhisfathertohim,andyououghtto have done it. Because, before youwent into any tantrum about yourself,whoare'

'Holdthere,Flintwinch!'shecriedoutinachangedvoice:'youmaygoawordtoofar.'

Theoldmanseemedtothinkso.Therewasanotherpause,andhehadalteredhispositionintheroom,whenhespokeagainmoremildly:

'Iwasgoingtotellyouwhyitwas.Because,beforeyoutookyourownpart,IthoughtyououghttohavetakenthepartofArthur'sfather.Arthur'sfather!Ihadnoparticular love forArthur's father. I servedArthur's father'suncle, inthishouse,whenArthur'sfatherwasnotmuchabovemewaspoorerasfarashispocketwentandwhenhisunclemightassoonhaveleftmehisheirashavelefthim.Hestarvedin theparlour,andIstarvedin thekitchen; thatwas theprincipaldifferenceinourpositions;therewasnotmuchmorethanaflightofbreakneckstairsbetweenus.Inevertooktohiminthosetimes;Idon'tknowthat I ever took tohimgreatly at any time.Hewasanundecided, irresolutechap,whohadeverythingbuthisorphanlifescaredoutofhimwhenhewasyoung.Andwhenhebroughtyouhomehere,thewifehisunclehadnamedforhim,Ididn'tneedtolookatyoutwice(youwereagoodlookingwomanatthattime) to knowwho'd bemaster. You have stood of your own strength eversince.Standofyourownstrengthnow.Don'tleanagainstthedead.'

'Idonotasyoucallitleanagainstthedead.'

'Butyouhadamindtodoit,ifIhadsubmitted,'growledJeremiah,'andthat'swhyyoudropdownuponme.Youcan'tforgetthatIdidn'tsubmit.Isupposeyou are astonished that I should consider itworthmywhile to have justicedonetoArthur'sfather?

Hey? It doesn'tmatterwhether you answer or not, because I knowyou are,andyouknowyouare.Come,then,I'lltellyouhowitis.Imaybeabitofan

oddity in point of temper, but this is my temperI can't let anybody haveentirely their ownway.You are a determinedwoman, and a cleverwoman;andwhenyouseeyourpurposebeforeyou,nothingwillturnyoufromit.WhoknowsthatbetterthanIdo?'

'Nothingwill turnmefromit,Flintwinch,whenIhavejustifiedit tomyself.Addthat.'

'Justified it toyourself? I saidyouwere themostdeterminedwomanon thefaceoftheearth(orImeanttosayso),andifyouaredeterminedtojustifyanyobjectyouentertain,ofcourseyou'lldoit.'

'Man! I justifymyselfby theauthorityof theseBooks,' shecried,withsternemphasis,andappearingfromthesoundthatfollowedtostrikethedeadweightofherarmuponthetable.

'Nevermindthat,'returnedJeremiahcalmly,'wewon'tenterintothatquestionatpresent.Howeverthatmaybe,youcarryoutyourpurposes,andyoumakeeverythinggodownbeforethem.Now,Iwon'tgodownbeforethem.Ihavebeenfaithfultoyou,andusefultoyou,andIamattachedtoyou.ButIcan'tconsent,andIwon'tconsent,andIneverdidconsent,andIneverwillconsenttobelostinyou.Swallowupeverybodyelse,andwelcome.Thepeculiarityofmytemperis,ma'am,thatIwon'tbeswallowedupalive.'

PerhapsthishadOriginallybeenthemainspringoftheunderstandingbetweenthem.Descrying thusmuch of force of character inMrFlintwinch, perhapsMrsClennamhaddeemedalliancewithhimworthherwhile.

'Enoughandmorethanenoughofthesubject,'saidshegloomily.

'Unless you drop down upon me again,' returned the persistent Flintwinch,'andthenyoumustexpecttohearofitagain.'

MistressAfferydreamedthatthefigureofherlordherebeganwalkingupanddowntheroom,asiftocoolhisspleen,andthatsheranaway;butthat,ashedidnotissueforthwhenshehadstoodlisteningandtremblingintheshadowyhall a little time, she crept upstairs again, impelled as before by ghosts andcuriosity,andoncemorecoweredoutsidethedoor.

'Please to light thecandle,Flintwinch,'MrsClennamwassaying,apparentlywishingtodrawhimbackintotheirusualtone.'Itisnearlytimefortea.LittleDorritiscoming,andwillfindmeinthedark.'

MrFlintwinchlightedthecandlebriskly,andsaidasheputitdownuponthetable:

'WhatareyougoingtodowithLittleDorrit?Isshetocometoworkhereforever?Tocometoteahereforever?Tocomebackwardsandforwardshere,inthe same way, for ever?' 'How can you talk about "for ever" to a maimedcreaturelikeme?Arewenotallcutdownlikethegrassofthefield,andwasnotIshornbythescythemanyyearsago:sincewhenIhavebeenlyinghere,waitingtobegatheredintothebarn?'

'Ay, ay! But since you have been lying herenot near deadnothing likeitnumbersof childrenandyoungpeople,bloomingwomen, strongmen, andwhatnot,havebeencutdownandcarried;andstillhereareyou,yousee,notmuchchangedafterall.Your timeandminemaybea longoneyet.WhenIsay for ever, I mean (though I am not poetical) through all our time.' MrFlintwinchgave thisexplanationwithgreatcalmness,andcalmlywaited forananswer.

'So long as LittleDorrit is quiet and industrious, and stands in need of theslight help I can give her, and deserves it; so long, I suppose, unless shewithdrawsofherownact,shewillcontinuetocomehere,Ibeingspared.'

'Nothingmorethanthat?'saidFlintwinch,strokinghismouthandchin.

'Whatshouldtherebemorethanthat!Whatcouldtherebemorethanthat!'sheejaculatedinhersternlywonderingway.

MrsFlintwinchdreamed,that,forthespaceofaminuteortwo,theyremainedlooking at each otherwith the candle between them, and that she somehowderivedanimpressionthattheylookedateachotherfixedly.

'Doyouhappentoknow,MrsClennam,'Affery'sliegelordthendemandedinamuchlowervoice,andwithanamountofexpressionthatseemedquiteoutofproportiontothesimplepurposeofhiswords,'whereshelives?'

'No.'

'Wouldyounow,wouldyouliketoknow?'saidJeremiahwithapounceasifhehadsprunguponher.

'If I cared to know, I should know already.Could I not have asked her anyday?'

'Thenyoudon'tcaretoknow?'

'Idonot.'

MrFlintwinch,havingexpelledalongsignificantbreathsaid,withhisformeremphasis,'ForIhaveaccidentallymind!foundout.'

'Wherever she lives,' saidMrsClennam, speaking in one unmodulated hardvoice,andseparatingherwordsasdistinctlyas ifshewerereadingthemofffromseparatebitsofmetalthatshetookuponebyone,'shehasmadeasecretofit,andsheshallalwayskeephersecretfromme.'

'Afterall,perhapsyouwouldrathernothaveknownthefact,anyhow?'saidJeremiah;andhesaiditwithatwist,asifhiswordshadcomeoutofhiminhisownwryshape.

'Flintwinch,' saidhismistressandpartner, flashing intoasuddenenergy thatmadeAfferystart, 'whydoyougoadme?Lookroundthis room.If it isanycompensation formy long confinementwithin these narrow limitsnot that Icomplain of being afflicted; you know I never complain of thatif it is anycompensationtomeforlongconfinementtothisroom,thatwhileIamshutupfromallpleasantchangeIamalsoshutupfromtheknowledgeofsomethingsthat Imayprefer toavoidknowing,whyshouldyou,ofallmen,grudgemethatbelief?'

'Idon'tgrudgeittoyou,'returnedJeremiah.

'Thensaynomore.Saynomore.LetLittleDorritkeepher secret fromme,and do you keep it from me also. Let her come and go, unobserved andunquestioned.Letmesuffer,andletmehavewhatalleviationbelongstomycondition.Isitsomuch,thatyoutormentmelikeanevilspirit?'

'Iaskedyouaquestion.That'sall.'

'I have answered it. So, say nomore. Say nomore.' Here the sound of thewheeled chairwasheardupon the floor, andAffery's bell rangwith ahastyjerk.

Moreafraidofherhusbandatthemomentthanofthemysterioussoundinthekitchen,Afferycreptawayas lightlyandasquicklyasshecould,descendedthekitchenstairsalmostasrapidlyasshehadascendedthem,resumedherseatbeforethefire,tuckedupherskirtagain,andfinallythrewherapronoverherhead. Then the bell rang oncemore, and then oncemore, and then kept onringing;indespiteofwhichimportunatesummons,Afferystillsatbehindherapron,recoveringherbreath.

At last Mr Flintwinch came shuffling down the staircase into the hall,muttering and calling 'Affery woman!' all the way. Affery still remainingbehindherapron,hecamestumblingdownthekitchenstairs,candleinhand,sidleduptoher,twitchedherapronoff,androusedher.

'OhJeremiah!'criedAffery,waking.'Whatastartyougaveme!'

'Whathaveyoubeendoing,woman?'inquiredJeremiah.'You'vebeenrungforfiftytimes.'

'OhJeremiah,'saidMistressAffery,'Ihavebeenadreaming!'

Reminded of her former achievement in that way, Mr Flintwinch held thecandle to her head, as if he had some idea of lighting her up for theilluminationofthekitchen.

'Don'tyouknowit'sherteatime?'hedemandedwithaviciousgrin,andgivingoneofthelegsofMistressAffery'schairakick.

'Jeremiah?Teatime?Idon'tknowwhat'scometome.ButIgotsuchadreadfulturn,Jeremiah,beforeIwentoffadreaming,thatIthinkitmustbethat.'

'Yoogh!SleepyHead!'saidMrFlintwinch,'whatareyoutalkingabout?'

'Suchastrangenoise,Jeremiah,andsuchacuriousmovement.Inthekitchenherejusthere.'

Jeremiahhelduphislightandlookedattheblackenedceiling,helddownhislight and looked at the damp stone floor, turned round with his light andlookedaboutatthespottedandblotchedwalls.

'Rats,cats,water,drains,'saidJeremiah.

MistressAfferynegativedeachwithashakeofherhead.'No,Jeremiah;Ihavefelt itbefore.Ihavefelt itupstairs,andonceonthestaircaseasIwasgoingfromherroomtooursinthenightarustleandasortoftremblingtouchbehindme.'

'Affery,mywoman,' saidMrFlintwinch grimly, after advancing his nose tothatlady'slipsasatestforthedetectionofspirituousliquors,'ifyoudon'tgettea pretty quick, oldwoman, you'll become sensible of a rustle and a touchthat'llsendyouflyingtotheotherendofthekitchen.'

This prediction stimulated Mrs Flintwinch to bestir herself, and to hastenupstairs to Mrs Clennam's chamber. But, for all that, she now began toentertaina settledconviction that therewas somethingwrong in thegloomyhouse.Henceforth, shewas never at peace in it after daylight departed; andneverwentupordownstairs in thedarkwithouthavingher apronoverherhead,lestsheshouldseesomething.

What with these ghostly apprehensions and her singular dreams, MrsFlintwinchfellthateveningintoahauntedstateofmind,fromwhichitmaybelong before this present narrative descries any trace of her recovery. In the

vagueness and indistinctness of all her new experiences and perceptions, aseverythingaboutherwasmysterioustoherselfshebegantobemysterioustoothers:andbecameasdifficulttobemadeouttoanybody'ssatisfactionasshefoundthehouseandeverythinginitdifficulttomakeouttoherown.

She had not yet finished preparingMrsClennam's tea,when the soft knockcame to the door which always announced Little Dorrit. Mistress AfferylookedonatLittleDorrittakingoffherhomelybonnetinthehall,andatMrFlintwinch scraping his jaws and contemplating her in silence, as expectingsomewonderful consequence to ensuewhichwould frighten her out of herfivewitsorblowthemallthreetopieces.

After tea therecameanotherknockat thedoor,announcingArthur.MistressAfferywentdowntolethimin,andhesaidonentering,'Affery,Iamgladit'syou.Iwanttoaskyouaquestion.'Afferyimmediatelyreplied,'Forgoodnesssakedon'taskmenothing,Arthur!Iamfrightenedoutofonehalfofmylife,and dreamedout of the other.Don't askme nothing! I don't knowwhich iswhich, orwhat is what!'and immediately started away from him, and camenearhimnomore.

Mistress Affery having no taste for reading, and no sufficient light forneedleworkinthesubduedroom,supposingher tohavetheinclination,nowsateverynight in thedimness fromwhichshehadmomentarilyemergedonthe evening of Arthur Clennam's return, occupied with crowds of wildspeculationsand suspicions respectinghermistressandherhusbandand thenoisesinthehouse.Whentheferociousdevotionalexerciseswereengagedin,thesespeculationswoulddistractMistressAffery'seyestowardsthedoor,asifsheexpectedsomedarkformtoappearatthosepropitiousmoments,andmakethepartyonetoomany.

Otherwise,Afferyneversaidordidanythingtoattracttheattentionofthetwoclever ones towards her in anymarked degree, except on certain occasions,generallyataboutthequiethourtowardsbedtime,whenshewouldsuddenlydartoutofherdimcorner,andwhisperwithafaceofterrortoMrFlintwinch,reading the paper near Mrs Clennam's little table: 'There, jeremiah! Now!What'sthatnoise?'

Then the noise, if there were any, would have ceased, and Mr Flintwinchwouldsnarl,turninguponherasifshehadcuthimdownthatmomentagainsthiswill,'Affery,oldwoman,youshallhaveadose,oldwoman,suchadose!Youhavebeendreamingagain!'

CHAPTER16.

Nobody'sWeakness

The time being come for the renewal of his acquaintancewith theMeaglesfamily,Clennam,pursuanttocontractmadebetweenhimselfandMrMeagleswithin the precincts of Bleeding Heart Yard, turned his face on a certainSaturdaytowardsTwickenham,whereMrMeagleshadacottageresidenceofhisown.Theweatherbeingfineanddry,andanyEnglishroadaboundingininterestforhimwhohadbeensolongaway,hesenthisvaliseonbythecoach,andsetouttowalk.Awalkwasinitselfanewenjoymenttohim,andonethathadrarelydiversifiedhislifeafaroff.

HewentbyFulhamandPutney,forthepleasureofstrollingovertheheath.Itwasbrightandshiningthere;andwhenhefoundhimselfsofaronhisroadtoTwickenham,hefoundhimselfa longwayonhisroad toanumberofairierand less substantial destinations. They had risen before him fast, in thehealthful exercise and the pleasant road. It is not easy towalk alone in thecountry without musing upon something. And he had plenty of unsettledsubjectstomeditateupon,thoughhehadbeenwalkingtotheLand'sEnd.

First,therewasthesubjectseldomabsentfromhismind,thequestion,whathewastodohenceforthinlife;towhatoccupationheshoulddevotehimself,andinwhatdirectionhehadbestseekit.Hewasfarfromrich,andeverydayofindecision and inaction made his inheritance a source of greater anxiety tohim.Asoftenashebegantoconsiderhowtoincreasethis inheritance,or tolay itby,sooftenhismisgiving that therewassomeonewithanunsatisfiedclaim upon his justice, returned; and that alonewas a subject to outlast thelongestwalk.Again, therewas the subject of his relationswith hismother,whichwerenowuponanequableandpeacefulbutneverconfidentialfooting,and whom he saw several times a week. Little Dorrit was a leading and aconstantsubject:forthecircumstancesofhislife,unitedtothoseofherownstory, presented the little creature to him as the only person betweenwhomandhimselfthereweretiesofinnocentrelianceononehand,andaffectionateprotection on the other; ties of compassion, respect, unselfish interest,gratitude, and pity. Thinking of her, and of the possibility of her father'srelease from prison by the unbarring hand of deaththe only change ofcircumstancehecouldforeseethatmightenablehimtobesuchafriendtoherashewishedtobe,byalteringherwholemanneroflife,smoothingherroughroad,andgivingherahomeheregardedher,inthatperspective,ashisadopteddaughter,hispoorchildoftheMarshalseahushedtorest.Iftherewerealastsubject in his thoughts, and it lay towards Twickenham, its form was so

indefinitethatitwaslittlemorethanthepervadingatmosphereinwhichtheseothersubjectsfloatedbeforehim.

Hehadcrossed theheath andwas leaving it behindwhenhegaineduponafigure which had been in advance of him for some time, andwhich, as hegained upon it, he thought he knew. He derived this impression fromsomethingintheturnofthehead,andinthefigure'sactionofconsideration,asitwentonatasufficientlysturdywalk.Butwhenthemanforitwasaman'sfigurepushedhishatupatthebackofhishead,andstoppedtoconsidersomeobjectbeforehim,heknewittobeDanielDoyce.

'Howdoyoudo,MrDoyce?'saidClennam,overtakinghim.'Iamgladtoseeyouagain,andinahealthierplacethantheCircumlocutionOffice.'

'Ha!MrMeagles'sfriend!'exclaimedthatpubliccriminal,comingoutofsomementalcombinationshehadbeenmaking,andofferinghishand.'Iamgladtoseeyou,sir.WillyouexcusemeifIforgetyourname?'

'Readily. It's not a celebrated name. It's notBarnacle.' 'No, no,' saidDaniel,laughing. 'And now I know what it is. It's Clennam. How do you do, MrClennam?'

'Ihavesomehope,'saidArthur,as theywalkedontogether, 'thatwemaybegoingtothesameplace,MrDoyce.'

'MeaningTwickenham?'returnedDaniel.'Iamgladtohearit.'

They were soon quite intimate, and lightened the way with a variety ofconversation. The ingenious culprit was a man of great modesty and goodsense; and, though a plainman, hadbeen toomuch accustomed to combinewhatwasoriginalanddaringinconceptionwithwhatwaspatientandminuteinexecution, tobebyanymeansanordinaryman.Itwasat firstdifficult tolead him to speak about himself, and he put off Arthur's advances in thatdirectionbyadmittingslightly,ohyes,hehaddonethis,andhehaddonethat,andsuchathingwasofhismaking,andsuchanotherthingwashisdiscovery,butitwashistrade,yousee,histrade;until,ashegraduallybecameassuredthat his companion had a real interest in his account of himself, he franklyyielded to it. Then it appeared that he was the son of a northcountryblacksmith,andhadoriginallybeenapprenticedbyhiswidowedmother toalockmaker;thathehad'struckoutafewlittlethings'atthelockmaker's,whichhadledtohisbeingreleasedfromhisindentureswithapresent,whichpresenthad enabled him to gratify his ardent wish to bind himself to a workingengineer, under whom he had laboured hard, learned hard, and lived hard,sevenyears.Histimebeingout,hehad'workedintheshop'atweeklywagessevenoreightyearsmore;andhad thenbetakenhimself to thebanksof the

Clyde, where he had studied, and filed, and hammered, and improved hisknowledge,theoreticalandpractical,forsixorsevenyearsmore.TherehehadhadanoffertogotoLyons,whichhehadaccepted;andfromLyonshadbeenengaged to go to Germany, and in Germany had had an offer to go to StPetersburg,andtherehaddoneverywellindeedneverbetter.However,hehadnaturallyfeltapreferenceforhisowncountry,andawishtogaindistinctionthere, and to dowhatever service he could do, there rather than elsewhere.And so he had come home. And so at home he had established himself inbusiness,andhadinventedandexecuted,andworkedhiswayon,until,afteradozen years of constant suit and service, he had been enrolled in theGreatBritishLegionofHonour, theLegionof theRebuffedof theCircumlocutionOffice, and had been decorated with the Great British Order of Merit, theOrderoftheDisorderoftheBarnaclesandStiltstalkings.

'Itismuchtoberegretted,'saidClennam,'thatyoueverturnedyourthoughtsthatway,MrDoyce.'

'True, sir, true to a certain extent. But what is a man to do? if he has themisfortune to strikeout something serviceable to thenation,hemust followwhereitleadshim.''Hadn'thebetterletitgo?'saidClennam.

'Hecan'tdoit,'saidDoyce,shakinghisheadwithathoughtfulsmile.'It'snotput intohishead tobeburied. It's put intohishead tobemadeuseful.Youholdyour lifeon thecondition that to the lastyoushall strugglehard for it.Everymanholdsadiscoveryonthesameterms.'

'Thatistosay,'saidArthur,withagrowingadmirationofhisquietcompanion,'youarenotfinallydiscouragedevennow?'

'Ihavenorighttobe,ifIam,'returnedtheother.'Thethingisastrueasiteverwas.'

Whentheyhadwalkedalittlewayinsilence,Clennam,atoncetochangethedirectpointoftheirconversationandnottochangeittooabruptly,askedMrDoyceifhehadanypartnerinhisbusinesstorelievehimofaportionofitsanxieties?

'No,'hereturned, 'notatpresent.IhadwhenIfirstenteredonit,andagoodmanhewas.Buthehasbeendeadsomeyears;andasIcouldnoteasilytaketothenotionofanotherwhenIlosthim,Iboughthisshareformyselfandhavegoneonbymyselfeversince.Andhere'sanotherthing,'hesaid,stoppingforamomentwithagoodhumoured laugh inhiseyes,and layinghisclosed righthand,with itspeculiar supplenessof thumb,onClennam'sarm, 'no inventorcanbeamanofbusiness,youknow.'

'No?'saidClennam.

'Why, so the men of business say,' he answered, resuming the walk andlaughing outright. 'I don't know why we unfortunate creatures should besupposedtowantcommonsense,butitisgenerallytakenforgrantedthatwedo.EventhebestfriendIhaveintheworld,ourexcellentfriendoveryonder,'saidDoyce,noddingtowardsTwickenham,'extendsasortofprotectiontome,don'tyouknow,asamannotquiteabletotakecareofhimself?'

Arthur Clennam could not help joining in the goodhumoured laugh, for herecognisedthetruthofthedescription.

'SoIfindthatImusthaveapartnerwhoisamanofbusinessandnotguiltyofanyinventions,'saidDanielDoyce,takingoffhishattopasshishandoverhisforehead, 'if it's only in deference to the current opinion, and to uphold thecredit of theWorks. I don't think he'll find that I have been very remiss orconfusedinmywayofconductingthem;butthat'sforhimtosaywhoeverheisnotforme.''Youhavenotchosenhimyet,then?'

'No,sir,no.Ihaveonlyjustcometoadecisiontotakeone.Thefactis,there'smoretodothanthereusedtobe,andtheWorksareenoughformeasIgrowolder. What with the books and correspondence, and foreign journeys forwhichaPrincipalisnecessary,Ican'tdoall.Iamgoingtotalkoverthebestway of negotiating the matter, if I find a spare halfhour between this andMondaymorning,withmymyNurseandprotector,'saidDoyce,withlaughingeyes again. 'He is a sagacious man in business, and has had a goodapprenticeshiptoit.'

After this, they conversed on different subjects until they arrived at theirjourney'send.AcomposedandunobtrusiveselfsustainmentwasnoticeableinDanielDoyceacalmknowledgethatwhatwastruemustremaintrue,inspiteof all the Barnacles in the family ocean, and would be just the truth, andneither more nor less when even that sea had run drywhich had a kind ofgreatnessinit,thoughnotoftheofficialquality.

Asheknewthehousewell,heconductedArthurtoitbythewaythatshowedittothebestadvantage.Itwasacharmingplace(nonetheworseforbeingalittle eccentric), on the road by the river, and justwhat the residence of theMeagles family ought to be. It stood in a garden, no doubt as fresh andbeautifulintheMayoftheYearasPetnowwasintheMayofherlife;anditwasdefendedbyagoodlyshowofhandsometreesandspreadingevergreens,asPetwasbyMrandMrsMeagles.Itwasmadeoutofanoldbrickhouse,ofwhich a part had been altogether pulled down, and another part had beenchanged into the present cottage; so there was a hale elderly portion, to

representMrandMrsMeagles,andayoungpicturesque,veryprettyportiontorepresentPet.Therewaseven the lateradditionofaconservatoryshelteringitself against it, uncertain of hue in its deepstained glass, and in its moretransparent portions flashing to the sun's rays, now like fire and now likeharmlesswater drops;whichmight have stood forTattycoram.Within viewwasthepeacefulriverandtheferryboat,tomoralisetoalltheinmatessaying:Young or old, passionate or tranquil, chafing or content, you, thus runs thecurrent always. Let the heart swell intowhat discord it will, thus plays theripplingwaterontheprowoftheferryboateverthesametune.Yearafteryear,somuch allowance for the drifting of the boat, somanymiles an hour theflowing of the stream, here the rushes, there the lilies, nothing uncertain orunquiet,uponthisroadthatsteadilyrunsaway;whileyou,uponyourflowingroadoftime,aresocapriciousanddistracted.

The bell at the gate had scarcely sounded when Mr Meagles came out toreceive them.MrMeagles had scarcely comeout,whenMrsMeagles cameout.MrsMeagleshadscarcelycomeout,whenPetcameout.Petscarcelyhadcomeout,whenTattycoramcameout.Neverhadvisitors amorehospitablereception.

'Hereweare,yousee,'saidMrMeagles, 'boxedup,MrClennam,withinourownhomelimits,asifwewerenevergoingtoexpandthatis,travelagain.NotlikeMarseilles,eh?Noallongingandmarshonginghere!'

'Adifferentkindofbeauty,indeed!'saidClennam,lookingabouthim.

'But,Lordblessme!'criedMrMeagles,rubbinghishandswitharelish,'itwasanuncommonlypleasantthingbeinginquarantine,wasn'tit?Doyouknow,Ihaveoftenwishedmyselfbackagain?Wewereacapitalparty.'

ThiswasMrMeagles'sinvariablehabit.Alwaystoobjecttoeverythingwhilehe was travelling, and always to want to get back to it when he was nottravelling.

'Ifitwassummertime,'saidMrMeagles,'whichIwishitwasonyouraccount,andinorderthatyoumightseetheplaceatitsbest,youwouldhardlybeableto hear yourself speak for birds. Being practical people, we never allowanybody to scare the birds; and the birds, being practical people too, comeaboutusinmyriads.Wearedelightedtoseeyou,Clennam(ifyou'llallowme,IshalldroptheMister);Iheartilyassureyou,wearedelighted.'

'I have not had so pleasant a greeting,' said Clennamthen he recalled whatLittleDorrit had said to him in his own room, and faithfully added 'exceptoncesincewelastwalkedtoandfro,lookingdownattheMediterranean.'

'Ah!' returnedMrMeagles. 'Something likea lookout, thatwas,wasn't it? Idon'twantamilitarygovernment,but I shouldn'tminda littleallongingandmarshongingjust a dash of itin this neighbourhood sometimes. It's Devilishstill.'

Bestowingthiseulogiumontheretiredcharacterofhisretreatwithadubiousshakeof thehead,MrMeagles led theway into thehouse. Itwas just largeenough,andnomore;wasasprettywithinasitwaswithout,andwasperfectlywellarrangedandcomfortable.

Sometracesofthemigratoryhabitsofthefamilyweretobeobservedinthecoveredframesandfurniture,andwrappeduphangings;butitwaseasytoseethat itwas one ofMrMeagles'swhims to have the cottage always kept, intheirabsence,asiftheywerealwayscomingbackthedayaftertomorrow.Ofarticlescollectedonhisvariousexpeditions,therewassuchavastmiscellanythatitwaslikethedwellingofanamiableCorsair.TherewereantiquitiesfromCentralItaly,madebythebestmodernhousesinthatdepartmentofindustry;bitsofmummyfromEgypt(andperhapsBirmingham);modelgondolasfromVenice;modelvillagesfromSwitzerland;morselsoftesselatedpavementfromHerculaneumandPompeii,likepetrifiedmincedveal;ashesoutoftombs,andlava out of Vesuvius; Spanish fans, Spezzian straw hats, Moorish slippers,Tuscanhairpins,Carrarasculpture,Trastaveriniscarves,Genoesevelvetsandfiligree, Neapolitan coral, Roman cameos, Geneva jewellery, Arab lanterns,rosariesblestallroundbythePopehimself,andaninfinitevarietyoflumber.Therewereviews,likeandunlike,ofamultitudeofplaces;andtherewasonelittlepictureroomdevotedtoafewoftheregularstickyoldSaints,withsinewslikewhipcord,hair likeNeptune's,wrinkles like tattooing,andsuchcoatsofvarnish that every holy personage served for a flytrap, and becamewhat isnow called in the vulgar tongue a Catchemalive O. Of these pictorialacquisitionsMrMeaglesspokeintheusualmanner.Hewasnojudge,hesaid,exceptofwhatpleasedhimself;hehadpickedthemup,dirtcheap,andpeoplehad considered them rather fine. Oneman, who at any rate ought to knowsomething of the subject, had declared that 'Sage,Reading' (a specially oilyoldgentlemaninablanket,withaswan'sdowntippetforabeard,andawebofcracksalloverhimlikerichpiecrust),tobeafineGuercino.AsforSebastiandelPiombothere,youwouldjudgeforyourself;ifitwerenothislatermanner,thequestionwas,Whowas it?Titian, thatmightormightnotbeperhapshehadonly touched it.DanielDoycesaidperhapshehadn't touched it,butMrMeaglesratherdeclinedtooverheartheremark.

Whenhehadshownallhisspoils,MrMeaglestookthemintohisownsnugroomoverlooking the lawn,whichwas fittedup inpart likeadressingroomand inpart likeanoffice,and inwhich,uponakindofcounterdesk,werea

pairofbrassscalesforweighinggold,andascoopforshovellingoutmoney.

'Here theyare,you see,' saidMrMeagles. 'I stoodbehind these twoarticlesfiveandthirtyyearsrunning,whenInomorethoughtofgaddingaboutthanInowthinkofstayingathome.WhenIlefttheBankforgood,Iaskedforthem,andbroughtthemawaywithme.

Imentionitatonce,oryoumightsupposethatIsitinmycountinghouse(asPet says I do), like the king in the poem of the fourandtwenty blackbirds,countingoutmymoney.'

Clennam'seyeshadstrayedtoanaturalpictureonthewall,oftwoprettylittlegirlswith their armsentwined. 'Yes,Clennam,' saidMrMeagles, in a lowervoice.'Theretheybothare.Itwastakensomeseventeenyearsago.AsIoftensaytoMother,theywerebabiesthen.'

'Theirnames?'saidArthur.

'Ah,tobesure!YouhaveneverheardanynamebutPet.Pet'snameisMinnie;hersister'sLillie.'

'Shouldyouhaveknown,MrClennam,thatoneofthemwasmeantforme?'askedPetherself,nowstandinginthedoorway.

'Imighthavethoughtthatbothofthemweremeantforyou,botharestillsolikeyou.Indeed,'saidClennam,glancingfromthefairoriginaltothepictureandback, 'Icannotevennowsaywhichisnotyourportrait.' 'D'yehear that,Mother?' criedMrMeagles tohiswife,whohad followedherdaughter. 'It'salwaysthesame,Clennam;nobodycandecide.ThechildtoyourleftisPet.'

Thepicturehappenedtobenearalookingglass.AsArthurlookedatitagain,hesaw,bythereflectionofthemirror,Tattycoramstopinpassingoutsidethedoor, listen to what was going on, and pass away with an angry andcontemptuousfrownuponherface,thatchangeditsbeautyintougliness.

'Butcome!'saidMrMeagles.'Youhavehadalongwalk,andwillbegladtogetyourbootsoff.AstoDanielhere,Isupposehe'dneverthinkoftakinghisbootsoff,unlessweshowedhimabootjack.'

'Whynot?'askedDaniel,withasignificantsmileatClennam.

'Oh!Youhavesomanythingstothinkabout,'returnedMrMeagles,clappinghim on the shoulder, as if his weakness must not be left to itself on anyaccount.'Figures,andwheels,andcogs,andlevers,andscrews,andcylinders,andathousandthings.'

'Inmycalling,'saidDaniel,amused,'thegreaterusuallyincludestheless.Butnevermind,nevermind!Whateverpleasesyou,pleasesme.'

Clennamcouldnothelpspeculating,asheseatedhimself inhisroombythefire, whether there might be in the breast of this honest, affectionate, andcordial Mr Meagles, any microscopic portion of the mustardseed that hadsprungupintothegreattreeoftheCircumlocutionOffice.HiscurioussenseofageneralsuperioritytoDanielDoyce,whichseemedtobefounded,notsomuch on anything in Doyce's personal character as on themere fact of hisbeinganoriginatorandamanoutofthebeatentrackofothermen,suggestedthe idea. Itmight have occupied himuntil hewent down to dinner an hourafterwards,ifhehadnothadanotherquestiontoconsider,whichhadbeeninhismindsolongagoasbeforehewasinquarantineatMarseilles,andwhichhadnowreturned to it, andwasveryurgentwith it.No lessaquestion thanthis:WhetherheshouldallowhimselftofallinlovewithPet?

Hewastwiceherage.(Hechangedtheleghehadcrossedovertheother,andtried thecalculationagain,butcouldnotbringout the totalat less.)Hewastwice her age. Well! He was young in appearance, young in health andstrength,younginheart.Amanwascertainlynotoldatforty;andmanymenwerenot incircumstances tomarry,ordidnotmarry,until theyhadattainedthattimeoflife.Ontheotherhand,thequestionwas,notwhathethoughtofthepoint,butwhatshethoughtofit.

HebelievedthatMrMeagleswasdisposedtoentertainariperegardforhim,andheknewthathehadasincereregardforMrMeaglesandhisgoodwife.He could foresee that to relinquish this beautiful only child, of whom theywere so fond, to any husband,would be a trial of their lovewhich perhapstheyneveryethadhadthefortitudetocontemplate.Butthemorebeautifulandwinningandcharmingshe,thenearertheymustalwaysbetothenecessityofapproachingit.Andwhynotinhisfavour,aswellasinanother's?

Whenhehadgotsofar,itcameagainintohisheadthatthequestionwas,notwhattheythoughtofit,butwhatshethoughtofit.

ArthurClennamwasaretiringman,withasenseofmanydeficiencies;andhesoexalted themeritsof thebeautifulMinnie inhismind, anddepressedhisown,thatwhenhepinnedhimselftothispoint,hishopesbegantofailhim.Hecame to the final resolution, as he made himself ready for dinner, that hewouldnotallowhimselftofallinlovewithPet.

Therewereonlyfive,ataroundtable,anditwasverypleasantindeed.Theyhad so many places and people to recall, and they were all so easy andcheerfultogether(DanielDoyceeithersittingoutlikeanamusedspectatorat

cards,orcoming inwithsomeshrewd littleexperiencesofhisown,when ithappened to be to the purpose), that theymight have been together twentytimes,andnothaveknownsomuchofoneanother.

'And Miss Wade,' said Mr Meagles, after they had recalled a number offellowtravellers.'HasanybodyseenMissWade?'

'Ihave,'saidTattycoram.

Shehadbroughtalittlemantlewhichheryoungmistresshadsentfor,andwasbendingoverher,puttingiton,whensheliftedupherdarkeyesandmadethisunexpectedanswer.

'Tatty!'heryoungmistressexclaimed.'YouseenMissWade?where?'

'Here,miss,'saidTattycoram.

'How?'

An impatientglancefromTattycoramseemed,asClennamsawit, toanswer'Withmyeyes!'Butheronlyanswerinwordswas:'Imethernearthechurch.'

'What was she doing there I wonder!' saidMrMeagles. 'Not going to it, Ishouldthink.'

'Shehadwrittentomefirst,'saidTattycoram.

'Oh,Tatty!'murmuredhermistress, 'takeyourhandsaway. I feel as if someoneelsewastouchingme!'

She said it in a quick involuntary way, but half playfully, and not morepetulantly or disagreeably than a favourite child might have done, wholaughed nextmoment.Tattycoram set her full red lips together, and crossedherarmsuponherbosom.'Didyouwishtoknow,sir,'shesaid,lookingatMrMeagles,'whatMissWadewrotetomeabout?'

'Well,Tattycoram,'returnedMrMeagles, 'sinceyouaskthequestion,andweareallfriendshere,perhapsyoumayaswellmentionit,ifyouaresoinclined.'

'Sheknew,whenwewere travelling,whereyoulived,'saidTattycoram, 'andshehadseenmenotquitenotquite'

'Notquiteinagoodtemper,Tattycoram?'suggestedMrMeagles,shakinghishead at the dark eyes with a quiet caution. 'Take a little timecountfiveandtwenty,Tattycoram.'

Shepressedherlipstogetheragain,andtookalongdeepbreath.

'SoshewrotetometosaythatifIeverfeltmyselfhurt,'shelookeddownatheryoungmistress,'orfoundmyselfworried,'shelookeddownatheragain,'Imightgo toher,andbeconsiderately treated. Iwas to thinkof it,andcouldspeaktoherbythechurch.SoIwenttheretothankher.'

'Tatty,'saidheryoungmistress,puttingherhandupoverhershoulderthattheothermight take it, 'MissWadealmostfrightenedmewhenweparted,andIscarcelyliketothinkofher justnowashavingbeensonearmewithoutmyknowingit.Tattydear!'

Tattystoodforamoment,immovable.

'Hey?'criedMrMeagles.'Countanotherfiveandtwenty,Tattycoram.'

She might have counted a dozen, when she bent and put her lips to thecaressinghand.Itpattedhercheek,as it touchedtheowner'sbeautifulcurls,andTattycoramwentaway.

'Nowthere,'saidMrMeaglessoftly,ashegavea turn to thedumbwaiteronhisrighthandtotwirlthesugartowardshimself.'There'sagirlwhomightbelost and ruined, if she wasn't among practical people. Mother and I know,solelyfrombeingpractical,thattherearetimeswhenthatgirl'swholenatureseems to roughen itself against seeingus soboundup inPet.No fatherandmotherwere bound up in her, poor soul. I don't like to think of theway inwhich that unfortunate child, with all that passion and protest in her, feelswhenshehearstheFifthCommandmentonaSunday.Iamalwaysinclinedtocallout,Church,Countfiveandtwenty,Tattycoram.'

Besideshisdumbwaiter,MrMeagleshad twoothernotdumbwaiters in thepersons of two parlourmaids with rosy faces and bright eyes, who were ahighlyornamentalpartof the tabledecoration. 'Andwhynot,yousee?' saidMrMeaglesonthishead.'AsIalwayssaytoMother,whynothavesomethingprettytolookat, ifyouhaveanythingatall?'AcertainMrsTickit,whowasCookandHousekeeperwhenthefamilywereathome,andHousekeeperonlywhen the family were away, completed the establishment. Mr Meaglesregrettedthatthenatureofthedutiesinwhichshewasengaged,renderedMrsTickitunpresentableatpresent,buthopedtointroducehertothenewvisitortomorrow. She was an important part of the Cottage, he said, and all hisfriendsknewher.Thatwasherpictureupinthecorner.Whentheywentaway,shealwaysputon the silkgownand the jetblack rowof curls represented inthatportrait(herhairwasreddishgreyinthekitchen),establishedherselfinthebreakfastroom, put her spectacles between two particular leaves of DoctorBuchan'sDomesticMedicine,andsatlookingovertheblindalldayuntiltheycamebackagain.Itwassupposedthatnopersuasioncouldbeinventedwhich

wouldinduceMrsTickittoabandonherpostattheblind,howeverlongtheirabsence,ortodispensewiththeattendanceofDrBuchan;thelucubrationsofwhichlearnedpractitioner,MrMeaglesimplicitlybelievedshehadneveryetconsultedtotheextentofonewordinherlife.

In theevening theyplayedanoldfashioned rubber;andPet sat lookingoverherfather'shand,orsingingtoherselfbyfitsandstartsatthepiano.Shewasaspoilt child; but how could she be otherwise?Who could bemuchwith sopliableandbeautifulacreature,andnotyieldtoherendearinginfluence?Whocouldpassaneveninginthehouse,andnotloveherforthegraceandcharmof her very presence in the room? This was Clennam's reflection,notwithstandingthefinalconclusionatwhichhehadarrivedupstairs.

Inmakingit,herevoked.'Why,whatareyouthinkingof,mygoodsir?'askedtheastonishedMrMeagles,whowashispartner.

'Ibegyourpardon.Nothing,'returnedClennam.

'Thinkofsomething,nexttime;that'sadearfellow,'saidMrMeagles.

PetlaughinglybelievedhehadbeenthinkingofMissWade.

'WhyofMissWade,Pet?'askedherfather.

'Why,indeed!'saidArthurClennam.

Petcolouredalittle,andwenttothepianoagain.

As they broke up for the night, Arthur overheard Doyce ask his host if hecouldgivehimhalf anhour's conversationbeforebreakfast in themorning?Thehostreplyingwillingly,Arthurlingeredbehindamoment,havinghisownwordtoaddtothattopic.

'MrMeagles,'hesaid,ontheirbeingleftalone, 'doyourememberwhenyouadvisedmetogostraighttoLondon?'

'Perfectly well.' 'And when you gave me some other good advice which Ineededatthattime?'

'I won't say what it was worth,' answered Mr Meagles: 'but of course Irememberourbeingverypleasantandconfidentialtogether.'

'I have acted on your advice; and having disembarrassed myself of anoccupation thatwas painful tome formany reasons,wish to devotemyselfandwhatmeansIhave,toanotherpursuit.'

'Right!Youcan'tdoittoosoon,'saidMrMeagles.

'Now,asIcamedowntoday,Ifoundthatyourfriend,MrDoyce,islookingforapartnerinhisbusinessnotapartnerinhismechanicalknowledge,butinthewaysandmeansofturningthebusinessarisingfromittothebestaccount.'

'Just so,' saidMrMeagles, with his hands in his pockets, and with the oldbusinessexpressionoffacethathadbelongedtothescalesandscoop.

'MrDoycementioned incidentally, in thecourseofourconversation, thathewas going to take your valuable advice on the subject of finding such apartner. If you should think our views and opportunities at all likely tocoincide, perhaps youwill let him knowmy available position. I speak, ofcourse,inignoranceofthedetails,andtheymaybeunsuitableonbothsides.'

'No doubt, no doubt,' said Mr Meagles, with the caution belonging to thescalesandscoop.

'Buttheywillbeaquestionoffiguresandaccounts'

'Justso,justso,'saidMrMeagles,witharithmeticalsoliditybelongingtothescalesandscoop.

'AndIshallbegladtoenterintothesubject,providedMrDoyceresponds,andyouthinkwellof it. Ifyouwillatpresent, therefore,allowmetoplace it inyourhands,youwillmuchobligeme.'

'Clennam, I accept the trustwith readiness,' saidMrMeagles. 'Andwithoutanticipatinganyofthepointswhichyou,asamanofbusiness,haveofcoursereserved,IamfreetosaytoyouthatIthinksomethingmaycomeofthis.Ofonethingyoumaybeperfectlycertain.Danielisanhonestman.'

'I amso sureof it that I havepromptlymadeupmymind to speak toyou.''Youmustguidehim,youknow;youmuststeerhim;youmustdirecthim;heisoneofacrotchetysort,'saidMrMeagles,evidentlymeaningnothingmorethanthathedidnewthingsandwentnewways;'butheisashonestasthesun,andsogoodnight!'Clennamwentbacktohisroom,satdownagainbeforehisfire,andmadeuphismindthathewasgladhehadresolvednottofallinlovewith Pet. She was so beautiful, so amiable, so apt to receive any trueimpression given to her gentle nature and her innocent heart, andmake themanwho should be so happy as to communicate it, themost fortunate andenviable of all men, that he was very glad indeed he had come to thatconclusion.

But,asthismighthavebeenareasonforcomingtotheoppositeconclusion,he followedout the themeagain a littleway inhismind; to justifyhimself,perhaps.

'Supposethataman,'sohisthoughtsran, 'whohadbeenofagesometwentyyears or so;whowas a diffidentman, from the circumstances of his youth;whowasratheragraveman,fromthetenorofhislife;whoknewhimselftobedeficientinmanylittleengagingqualitieswhichheadmiredinothers,fromhavingbeenlonginadistantregion,withnothingsofteningnearhim;whohadno kind sisters to present to her; who had no congenial home tomake herknown in; who was a stranger in the land; who had not a fortune tocompensate,inanymeasure,forthesedefects;whohadnothinginhisfavourbuthishonestloveandhisgeneralwishtodorightsupposesuchamanweretocometothishouse,andweretoyieldtothecaptivationofthischarminggirl,andweretopersuadehimselfthathecouldhopetowinher;whataweaknessitwouldbe!'

Hesoftlyopenedhiswindow,andlookedoutuponthesereneriver.Yearafteryear somuch allowance for the drifting of the ferryboat, somanymiles anhour the flowing of the stream, here the rushes, there the lilies, nothinguncertainorunquiet.

Whyshouldhebevexedorsoreatheart?Itwasnothisweaknessthathehadimagined. It was nobody's, nobody's within his knowledge; why should ittroublehim?Andyetitdidtroublehim.Andhethoughtwhohasnotthoughtforamoment,sometimes?thatitmightbebettertoflowawaymonotonously,like the river, and to compound for its insensibility to happiness with itsinsensibilitytopain.

CHAPTER17.

Nobody'sRival

Beforebreakfastinthemorning,Arthurwalkedouttolookabouthim.Asthemorningwasfineandhehadanhouronhishands,hecrossedtheriverbytheferry, and strolled along a footpath through somemeadows.When he cameback to the towingpath, he found the ferryboat on the opposite side, and agentlemanhailingitandwaitingtobetakenover.

Thisgentlemanlookedbarelythirty.Hewaswelldressed,ofasprightlyandgay appearance, a wellknit figure, and a rich dark complexion. As Arthurcameoverthestileanddowntothewater'sedge,theloungerglancedathimforamoment,andthenresumedhisoccupationofidlytossingstonesintothewaterwithhisfoot.Therewassomethinginhiswayofspurningthemoutof

their places with his heel, and getting them into the required position, thatClennam thought had an air of cruelty in it.Most of us havemore or lessfrequentlyderiveda similar impression fromaman'smannerofdoingsomevery little thing: plucking a flower, clearing away an obstacle, or evendestroyinganinsentientobject.

Thegentleman'sthoughtswerepreoccupied,ashisfaceshowed,andhetookno notice of a fine Newfoundland dog, who watched him attentively, andwatchedeverystonetoo,initsturn,eagertospringintotheriveronreceivinghismaster'ssign.Theferryboatcameover,however,withouthisreceivinganysign,andwhenitgroundedhismastertookhimbythecollarandwalkedhimintoit.

'Not this morning,' he said to the dog. 'You won't do for ladies' company,drippingwet.Liedown.'

Clennamfollowedthemanandthedoginto theboat,andtookhisseat.Thedogdidashewasordered.Themanremainedstanding,withhishandsinhispockets,and toweredbetweenClennamandtheprospect.Mananddogbothjumped lightly out as soon as they touched the other side, and went away.Clennamwasgladtoberidofthem.

Thechurchclockstruckthebreakfasthourashewalkedupthelittlelanebywhichthegardengatewasapproached.Themomenthepulledthebelladeeploudbarkingassailedhimfromwithinthewall.

'Iheardnodoglastnight,' thoughtClennam.Thegatewasopenedbyoneoftherosymaids,andonthelawnweretheNewfoundlanddogandtheman.

'MissMinnie isnotdownyet,gentlemen,'saidtheblushingportress,as theyallcame together in thegarden.Thenshesaid to themasterof thedog, 'MrClennam,sir,'andtrippedaway.

'Oddenough,MrClennam,thatweshouldhavemetjustnow,'saidtheman.Upon which the dog became mute. 'Allow me to introduce myselfHenryGowan.Aprettyplacethis,andlookswonderfullywellthismorning!'

Themannerwaseasy,andthevoiceagreeable;butstillClennamthought,thatifhehadnotmadethatdecidedresolutiontoavoidfallinginlovewithPet,hewouldhavetakenadisliketothisHenryGowan.

'It's new to you, I believe?' said this Gowan, whenArthur had extolled theplace.'Quitenew.Imadeacquaintancewithitonlyyesterdayafternoon.'

'Ah! Of course this is not its best aspect. It used to look charming in thespring,beforetheywentawaylasttime.Ishouldlikeyoutohaveseenitthen.'

Butfor thatresolutionsooftenrecalled,ClennammighthavewishedhiminthecraterofMountEtna,inreturnforthiscivility.

'Ihavehadthepleasureofseeingitundermanycircumstancesduringthelastthreeyears,andit'saParadise.'

Itwas(atleastitmighthavebeen,alwaysexceptingforthatwiseresolution)likehisdexterousimpudencetocallitaParadise.HeonlycalleditaParadisebecausehefirstsawhercoming,andsomadeheroutwithinherhearingtobeanangel,Confusiontohim!Andah!howbeamingshelooked,andhowglad!Howshecaressed thedog,andhowthedogknewher!Howexpressive thatheightened colour in her face, that flutteredmanner, her downcast eyes, herirresolute happiness! When had Clennam seen her look like this? Not thattherewasanyreasonwhyhemight,could,would,orshouldhaveeverseenher look like this,or thathehadeverhoped forhimself toseeher look likethis;butstillwhenhadheeverknownherdoit!

Hestoodatalittledistancefromthem.ThisGowanwhenhehadtalkedaboutaParadise,hadgoneuptoherandtakenherhand.Thedoghadputhisgreatpawsonherarmand laidhisheadagainstherdearbosom.Shehad laughedandwelcomedthem,andmadefartoomuchofthedog,far,far,toomuchthatistosay,supposingtherehadbeenanythirdpersonlookingonwholovedher.

Shedisengagedherself now, and came toClennam, andput her hand in hisandwishedhimgoodmorning,andgracefullymadeasifshewouldtakehisarmandbeescortedintothehouse.TothisGowanhadnoobjection.No,heknewhewastoosafe.

TherewasapassingcloudonMrMeagles'sgoodhumouredfacewhentheyallthree(four,countingthedog,andhewasthemostobjectionablebutoneoftheparty) came in to breakfast. Neither it, nor the touch of uneasiness onMrsMeaglesasshedirectedhereyestowardsit,wasunobservedbyClennam.

'Well,Gowan,'saidMrMeagles,evensuppressingasigh;'howgoestheworldwithyouthismorning?'

'Muchasusual,sir.LionandIbeingdeterminednottowasteanythingofourweekly visit, turned out early, and came over from Kingston, my presentheadquarters,whereIammakingasketchor two.'ThenhetoldhowhehadmetMrClennamattheferry,andtheyhadcomeovertogether.

'MrsGowaniswell,Henry?'saidMrsMeagles.(Clennambecameattentive.)

'Mymother is quitewell, thank you.' (Clennambecame inattentive.) 'I havetaken the liberty of making an addition to your family dinnerparty today,

whichIhopewillnotbeinconvenienttoyouortoMrMeagles.Icouldn'tverywellgetoutofit,'heexplained,turningtothelatter.'Theyoungfellowwrotetoproposehimselftome;andasheiswellconnected,Ithoughtyouwouldnotobjecttomytransferringhimhere.'

'Whoistheyoungfellow?'askedMrMeagleswithpeculiarcomplacency.

'HeisoneoftheBarnacles.TiteBarnacle'sson,ClarenceBarnacle,whoisinhisfather'sDepartment.Icanatleastguaranteethattherivershallnotsufferfromhisvisit.Hewon'tsetitonfire.'

'Aye, aye?' said Meagles. 'A Barnacle is he? We know something of thatfamily,eh,Dan?ByGeorge,theyareatthetopofthetree,though!Letmesee.WhatrelationwillthisyoungfellowbetoLordDecimusnow?HisLordshipmarried,inseventeenninetyseven,LadyJemimaBilberry,whowastheseconddaughter by the third marriageno! There I am wrong! That was LadySeraphinaLadyJemimawas the firstdaughterby the secondmarriageof thefifteenth Earl of Stiltstalking with the Honourable Clementina Toozellem.Verywell.Nowthisyoungfellow'sfathermarriedaStiltstalkingandhisfathermarriedhiscousinwhowasaBarnacle.

The father of that father whomarried a Barnacle, married a Joddleby.I amgetting a little too far back, Gowan; I want to make out what relation thisyoungfellowistoLordDecimus.'

'That'seasilystated.HisfatherisnephewtoLordDecimus.'

'NephewtoLordDecimus,'MrMeaglesluxuriouslyrepeatedwithhiseyesshut,that he might have nothing to distract him from the full flavour of thegenealogicaltree.'ByGeorge,youareright,Gowan.Soheis.'

'Consequently,LordDecimusishisgreatuncle.'

'But stop a bit!' saidMrMeagles, opening his eyes with a fresh discovery.'Thenonthemother'sside,LadyStiltstalkingishisgreataunt.'

'Ofcoursesheis.'

'Aye,aye,aye?'saidMrMeagleswithmuchinterest.'Indeed,indeed?Weshallbegladtoseehim.We'llentertainhimaswellaswecan,inourhumbleway;andweshallnotstarvehim,Ihope,atallevents.'

Inthebeginningofthisdialogue,Clennamhadexpectedsomegreatharmlessoutburst fromMrMeagles, like that which had made him burst out of theCircumlocutionOffice,holdingDoycebythecollar.Buthisgoodfriendhadaweaknesswhichnoneofusneedgointothenextstreettofind,andwhichno

amount of Circumlocution experience could long subdue in him. ClennamlookedatDoyce;butDoyceknewallabout itbeforehand,and lookedathisplate,andmadenosign,andsaidnoword.

'Iammuchobligedtoyou,'saidGowan,toconcludethesubject.'Clarenceisagreatass,butheisoneofthedearestandbestfellowsthateverlived!'

Itappeared,beforethebreakfastwasover,thateverybodywhomthisGowanknewwaseithermoreorlessofanass,ormoreorlessofaknave;butwas,notwithstanding, the most lovable, the most engaging, the simplest, truest,kindest, dearest, best fellow that ever lived. The process by which thisunvaryingresultwasattained,whateverthepremises,mighthavebeenstatedbyMrHenryGowanthus:'Iclaimtobealwaysbookkeeping,withapeculiarnicety,ineveryman'scase,andpostingupacarefullittleaccountofGoodandEvilwithhim.Idothissoconscientiously,thatIamhappytotellyouIfindthe most worthless of men to be the dearest old fellow too: and am in aconditiontomakethegratifyingreport,thatthereismuchlessdifferencethanyou are inclined to suppose between an honest man and a scoundrel.' Theeffectof thischeeringdiscoveryhappened tobe, thatwhileheseemed tobescrupulouslyfindinggoodinmostmen,hedidinrealityloweritwhereitwas,andsetitupwhereitwasnot;butthatwasitsonlydisagreeableordangerousfeature.

Itscarcelyseemed,however,toaffordMrMeaglesasmuchsatisfactionastheBarnaclegenealogyhaddone.Thecloud thatClennamhadnever seenuponhis facebefore thatmorning, frequentlyovercast it again; and therewas thesame shadowof uneasy observation of himon the comely face of hiswife.Morethanonceor twicewhenPetcaressedthedog, itappearedtoClennamthatherfatherwasunhappyinseeingherdoit;and,inoneparticularinstancewhenGowanstoodontheothersideofthedog,andbenthisheadatthesametime,ArthurfanciedthathesawtearsrisetoMrMeagles'seyesashehurriedoutoftheroom.Itwaseitherthefacttoo,orhefanciedfurther,thatPetherselfwasnotinsensibletotheselittleincidents;thatshetried,withamoredelicateaffectionthanusual, toexpress tohergoodfatherhowmuchshelovedhim;that itwason thisaccount thatshefellbehind therest,bothas theywent tochurch and as they returned from it, and took his arm. He could not havesworn but that as he walked alone in the garden afterwards, he had aninstantaneousglimpseofherinherfather'sroom,clingingtobothherparentswiththegreatesttenderness,andweepingonherfather'sshoulder.

The latterpartof theday turningoutwet, theywere fain tokeep thehouse,look overMrMeagles's collection, and beguile the time with conversation.This Gowan had plenty to say for himself, and said it in an offhand andamusingmanner.Heappearedtobeanartistbyprofession,andtohavebeen

at Rome some time; yet he had a slight, careless, amateur way with himaperceptiblelimp,bothinhisdevotiontoartandhisattainmentswhichClennamcouldscarcelyunderstand.

He applied toDanielDoyce for help, as they stood together, lookingout ofwindow.

'YouknowMrGowan?'hesaidinalowvoice.

'Ihaveseenhimhere.ComeshereeverySundaywhentheyareathome.'

'Anartist,Iinferfromwhathesays?'

'Asortofaone,'saidDanielDoyce,inasurlytone.

'Whatsortofaone?'askedClennam,withasmile.

'Why,hehassaunteredintotheArtsataleisurelyPallMallpace,'saidDoyce,'andIdoubtiftheycaretobetakenquitesocoolly.'

Pursuing his inquiries, Clennam found that the Gowan family were a verydistantramificationoftheBarnacles;andthatthepaternalGowan,originallyattached toa legationabroad,hadbeenpensionedoff asaCommissionerofnothingparticularsomewhereorother,andhaddiedathispostwithhisdrawnsalaryinhishand,noblydefendingittothelastextremity.Inconsiderationofthiseminentpublicservice,theBarnacletheninpowerhadrecommendedtheCrown tobestowapensionof twoor threehundredayearonhiswidow; towhich the next Barnacle in power had added certain shady and sedateapartments in the Palaces atHamptonCourt, where the old lady still lived,deploringthedegeneracyofthetimesincompanywithseveralotheroldladiesof both sexes. Her son, Mr Henry Gowan, inheriting from his father, theCommissioner,thatveryquestionablehelpinlife,averysmallindependence,hadbeendifficult to settle; the rather, aspublic appointments chanced tobescarce, and his genius, during his earlier manhood, was of that exclusivelyagricultural characterwhich applies itself to the cultivation ofwild oats.Atlast he had declared that hewould become aPainter; partly because he hadalways had an idle knack that way, and partly to grieve the souls of theBarnaclesinchief who had not provided for him. So it had come to passsuccessively, first, that several distinguished ladies had been frightfullyshocked; then, that portfoliosof his performanceshadbeenhanded about o'nights,anddeclaredwithecstasytobeperfectClaudes,perfectCuyps,perfectphaenomena;then,thatLordDecimushadboughthispicture,andhadaskedthe President and Council to dinner at a blow, and had said, with his ownmagnificentgravity,'Doyouknow,thereappearstometobereallyimmensemeritinthatwork?'and,inshort,thatpeopleofconditionhadabsolutelytaken

painstobringhimintofashion.But,somehow,ithadallfailed.Theprejudicedpublichadstoodoutagainstitobstinately.TheyhaddeterminednottoadmireLordDecimus'spicture.Theyhaddeterminedtobelievethatineveryservice,excepttheirown,amanmustqualifyhimself,bystrivingearlyandlate,andby working heart and soul, might and main. So nowMr Gowan, like thatwornout old coffin which never was Mahomet's nor anybody else's, hungmidwaybetweentwopoints: jaundicedandjealousastotheonehehadleft:jaundicedandjealousastotheotherthathecouldn'treach.

Suchwas thesubstanceofClennam'sdiscoveriesconcerninghim,made thatrainySundayafternoonandafterwards.

Aboutanhourorsoafterdinnertime,YoungBarnacleappeared,attendedbyhis eyeglass; in honour of whose family connections, Mr Meagles hadcashieredtheprettyparlourmaidsfortheday,andhadplacedondutyintheirstead two dingy men. Young Barnacle was in the last degree amazed anddisconcertedatsightofArthur,andhadmurmuredinvoluntarily, 'Lookhere!uponmysoul,youknow!'beforehispresenceofmindreturned.

Even then, hewas obliged to embrace the earliest opportunity of taking hisfriendintoawindow,andsaying,inanasalwaythatwasapartofhisgeneraldebility:

'Iwanttospeaktoyou,Gowan.Isay.Lookhere.Whoisthatfellow?'

'Afriendofourhost's.Noneofmine.'

'He'samostferociousRadical,youknow,'saidYoungBarnacle.

'Ishe?Howdoyouknow?'

'Ecod, sir, he was Pitching into our people the other day in the mosttremendousmanner.Wentup toourplaceandPitched intomyfather to thatextentthatitwasnecessarytoorderhimout.CamebacktoourDepartment,andPitchedintome.Lookhere.Youneversawsuchafellow.'

'Whatdidhewant?'

'Ecod,sir,' returnedYoungBarnacle, 'hesaidhewanted toknow,youknow!PervadedourDepartmentwithoutanappointmentandsaidhewantedtoknow!'

Thestareof indignantwonderwithwhichYoungBarnacleaccompaniedthisdisclosure, would have strained his eyes injuriously but for the opportunereliefofdinner.MrMeagles(whohadbeenextremelysolicitoustoknowhowhis uncle and aunt were) begged him to conduct Mrs Meagles to thediningroom. And when he sat on Mrs Meagles's right hand, Mr Meagles

lookedasgratifiedasifhiswholefamilywerethere.

Allthenaturalcharmofthepreviousdaywasgone.Theeatersofthedinner,like thedinner itself,were lukewarm, insipid,overdoneandallowing to thispoorlittledullYoungBarnacle.Conversationlessatanytime,hewasnowthevictimofaweaknessspecialtotheoccasion,andsolelyreferabletoClennam.Hewasunderapressingandcontinualnecessityoflookingatthatgentleman,which occasioned his eyeglass to get into his soup, into hiswineglass, intoMrsMeagles's plate, to hang down his back like a bellrope, and be severaltimesdisgracefullyrestoredtohisbosombyoneofthedingymen.Weakenedinmindbyhisfrequentlossesofthisinstrument,anditsdeterminationnottostickinhiseye,andmoreandmoreenfeebledinintellecteverytimehelookedat themysterious Clennam, he applied spoons to his eyes, forks, and otherforeignmattersconnectedwiththefurnitureofthedinnertable.Hisdiscoveryof these mistakes greatly increased his difficulties, but never released himfromthenecessityoflookingatClennam.AndwheneverClennamspoke,thisillstarredyoungmanwasclearlyseizedwithadreadthathewascoming,bysomeartfuldevice,roundtothatpointofwantingtoknow,youknow.

Itmaybequestioned, therefore,whetheranyonebutMrMeagleshadmuchenjoyment of the time. Mr Meagles, however, thoroughly enjoyed YoungBarnacle. As a mere flask of the golden water in the tale became a fullfountainwhenitwaspouredout,soMrMeaglesseemedtofeelthatthissmallspiceofBarnacleimpartedtohistabletheflavourofthewholefamilytree.Inits presence, his frank, fine, genuine qualities paled; hewas not so easy, hewasnotsonatural,hewasstrivingaftersomethingthatdidnotbelongtohim,hewasnothimself.WhatastrangepeculiarityonthepartofMrMeagles,andwhereshouldwefindanothersuchcase!

At last thewet Sundaywore itself out in awet night; andYoungBarnaclewenthomeinacab,feeblysmoking;andtheobjectionableGowanwentawayon foot, accompanied by the objectionable dog. Pet had taken the mostamiablepainsallday tobe friendlywithClennam,butClennamhadbeenalittlereservedsincebreakfastthat is tosay,wouldhavebeen, ifhehadlovedher.

Whenhehadgone tohisown room,andhadagain thrownhimself into thechairby thefire,MrDoyceknockedat thedoor,candle inhand, toaskhimhowandatwhathourheproposedreturningonthemorrow?Aftersettlingthisquestion,hesaidawordtoMrDoyceaboutthisGowanwhowouldhaveruninhisheadagooddeal,ifhehadbeenhisrival.

'Thosearenotgoodprospectsforapainter,'saidClennam.

'No,'returnedDoyce.

MrDoyce stood, chambercandlestick in hand, the other hand in his pocket,lookinghardattheflameofhiscandle,withacertainquietperceptioninhisfacethattheyweregoingtosaysomethingmore.'Ithoughtourgoodfriendalittlechanged,andoutofspirits,afterhecamethismorning?'saidClennam.

'Yes,'returnedDoyce.

'Butnothisdaughter?'saidClennam.

'No,'saidDoyce.

Therewasapauseonbothsides.MrDoyce,still lookingat theflameofhiscandle,slowlyresumed:

'Thetruthis,hehastwicetakenhisdaughterabroadinthehopeofseparatingherfromMrGowan.Heratherthinkssheisdisposedtolikehim,andhehaspainfuldoubts(Iquiteagreewithhim,asIdaresayyoudo)ofthehopefulnessofsuchamarriage.'

'There'Clennamchoked,andcoughed,andstopped.

'Yes,youhavetakencold,'saidDanielDoyce.Butwithoutlookingathim.

'Thereisanengagementbetweenthem,ofcourse?'saidClennamairily.

'No.AsIamtold,certainlynot.Ithasbeensolicitedonthegentleman'spart,butnonehasbeenmade.Sincetheirrecentreturn,ourfriendhasyieldedtoaweeklyvisit,butthatistheutmost.Minniewouldnotdeceiveherfatherandmother.Youhave travelledwith them,and Ibelieveyouknowwhat abondthereisamongthem,extendingevenbeyondthispresentlife.AllthatthereisbetweenMissMinnieandMrGowan,Ihavenodoubtwesee.'

'Ah!Weseeenough!'criedArthur.

Mr Doyce wished him Good Night in the tone of a man who had heard amournful,nottosaydespairing,exclamation,andwhosoughttoinfusesomeencouragement and hope into themind of the person bywhom it had beenuttered. Such tonewas probably a part of his oddity, as one of a crotchetyband;forhowcouldhehaveheardanythingof thatkind,withoutClennam'shearingittoo?

The rain fell heavily on the roof, and pattered on the ground, and drippedamong the evergreens and the leafless branches of the trees. The rain fellheavily,drearily.Itwasanightoftears.

IfClennamhadnotdecidedagainstfallinginlovewithPet;ifhehadhadtheweakness to do it; if he had, little by little, persuaded himself to set all theearnestnessofhisnature,all themightofhishope,andall thewealthofhismaturedcharacter,onthatcast;ifhehaddonethisandfoundthatallwaslost;hewouldhavebeen,thatnight,unutterablymiserable.AsitwasAsitwas,therainfellheavily,drearily.

CHAPTER18.

LittleDorrit'sLover

Little Dorrit had not attained her twentysecond birthday without finding alover.EvenintheshallowMarshalsea, theeveryoungArchershotoffafewfeatherlessarrowsnowandthenfromamouldybow,andwingedaCollegianortwo.

LittleDorrit'slover,however,wasnotaCollegian.Hewasthesentimentalsonof a turnkey. His father hoped, in the fulness of time, to leave him theinheritanceofanunstainedkey;andhadfromhisearlyyouthfamiliarisedhimwiththedutiesofhisoffice,andwithanambitiontoretaintheprisonlockinthefamily.Whilethesuccessionwasyetinabeyance,heassistedhismotherintheconductofasnugtobaccobusinessroundthecornerofHorsemongerLane(hisfatherbeinganonresidentturnkey),whichcouldusuallycommandaneatconnectionwithintheCollegewalls.

Years agone, when the object of his affections was wont to sit in her littlearmchairbythehighLodgefender,YoungJohn(familyname,Chivery),ayearolder thanherself,hadeyedherwithadmiringwonder.Whenhehadplayedwithherintheyard,hisfavouritegamehadbeentocounterfeitlockingherupincorners,andtocounterfeitlettingheroutforrealkisses.Whenhegrewtallenoughtopeepthroughthekeyholeofthegreatlockofthemaindoor,hehaddiverstimessetdownhisfather'sdinner,orsupper,togetonasitmightontheoutersidethereof,whilehestoodtakingcoldinoneeyebydintofpeepingatherthroughthatairyperspective.

IfYoungJohnhadeverslackenedinhistruthinthelesspenetrabledaysofhisboyhood, when youth is prone to wear its boots unlaced and is happilyunconsciousofdigestiveorgans,hehadsoonstrungitupagainandscrewedittight. At nineteen, his hand had inscribed in chalk on that part of the wallwhichfrontedher lodgings,ontheoccasionofherbirthday, 'Welcomesweet

nursling of the Fairies!'At twentythree, the same hand falteringly presentedcigarsonSundaystotheFatheroftheMarshalsea,andFatherofthequeenofhissoul.

YoungJohnwassmallofstature,with ratherweak legsandveryweak lighthair.Oneofhiseyes(perhapstheeyethatusedtopeepthroughthekeyhole)wasalsoweak,andlookedlargerthantheother,asifitcouldn'tcollectitself.YoungJohnwasgentlelikewise.Buthewasgreatofsoul.Poetical,expansive,faithful.

Thoughtoohumblebefore therulerofhisheart tobesanguine,YoungJohnhad considered the object of his attachment in all its lights and shades.Following it out to blissful results, he had descried, withoutselfcommendation,afitnessinit.Saythingsprospered,andtheywereunited.She, the child of theMarshalsea; he, the lockkeeper.Therewas a fitness inthat. Say he became a resident turnkey. Shewould officially succeed to thechamber she had rented so long. Therewas a beautiful propriety in that. Itlookedoverthewall,ifyoustoodontiptoe;and,withatrellisworkofscarletbeansandacanaryorso,wouldbecomeaveryArbour.Therewasacharmingidea in that. Then, being all in all to one another, there was even anappropriategrace in the lock.With theworld shutout (except thatpartof itwhich would be shut in); with its troubles and disturbances only known tothem by hearsay, as they would be described by the pilgrims tarrying withthem on their way to the Insolvent Shrine; with theArbour above, and theLodgebelow;theywouldglidedownthestreamoftime,inpastoraldomestichappiness.YoungJohndrewtearsfromhiseyesbyfinishingthepicturewithatombstoneintheadjoiningchurchyard,closeagainsttheprisonwall,bearingthe following touching inscription: 'Sacred to the Memory Of JOHNCHIVERY, Sixty years Turnkey, and fifty years Head Turnkey, Of theneighbouringMarshalsea,Whodepartedthislife,universallyrespected,onthethirtyfirst of December, One thousand eight hundred and eightysix, Agedeightythree years. Also of his truly beloved and truly loving wife, AMY,whosemaidennamewasDORRIT,Whosurvivedhislossnotquitefortyeighthours,AndwhobreathedherlastintheMarshalseaaforesaid.Thereshewasborn,Thereshelived,Thereshedied.'

TheChiveryparentswerenotignorantoftheirson'sattachmentindeedithad,on some exceptional occasions, thrown him into a state of mind that hadimpelledhimtoconducthimselfwithirascibilitytowardsthecustomers,anddamage the businessbut they, in their turns, had worked it out to desirableconclusions.MrsChivery,aprudentwoman,haddesiredherhusbandtotakenoticethattheirjohn'sprospectsoftheLockwouldcertainlybestrengthenedby an alliance withMiss Dorrit, who had herself a kind of claim upon the

Collegeandwasmuchrespectedthere.MrsChiveryhaddesiredherhusbandtotakenoticethatif,ontheonehand,theirJohnhadmeansandapostoftrust,on the other hand, Miss Dorrit had family; and that her (Mrs Chivery's)sentiment was, that two halves made a whole. Mrs Chivery, speaking as amother and not as a diplomatist, had then, from a different point of view,desiredherhusbandtorecollectthattheirJohnhadneverbeenstrong,andthathis love had fretted and worrited him enough as it was, without his beingdriven todohimselfamischief,asnobodycouldn'tsayhewouldn'tbe ifhewascrossed.Theseargumentshadsopowerfully influenced themindofMrChivery, who was a man of few words, that he had on sundry Sundaymornings, given his boy what he termed 'a lucky touch,' signifying that heconsidered such commendation of him to Good Fortune, preparatory to histhatdaydeclaringhispassionandbecomingtriumphant.ButYoungJohnhadnever takencourage tomake thedeclaration;and itwasprincipallyon theseoccasions thathehadreturnedexcited to the tobaccoshop,andflownat thecustomers. In this affair, as in every other, LittleDorrit herselfwas the lastpersonconsidered.Herbrotherandsisterwereawareofit,andattainedasortof station by making a peg of it on which to air the miserably ragged oldfiction of the family gentility. Her sister asserted the family gentility byfloutingthepoorswainasheloiteredabouttheprisonforglimpsesofhisdear.Tipassertedthefamilygentility,andhisown,bycomingoutinthecharacterof the aristocratic brother, and loftily swaggering in the little skittle groundrespecting seizures by the scruff of the neck, which there were loomingprobabilitiesofsomegentlemanunknownexecutingonsomelittlepuppynotmentioned.ThesewerenottheonlymembersoftheDorritfamilywhoturnedittoaccount.

No,no.TheFatheroftheMarshalseawassupposedtoknownothingaboutthematter,ofcourse:hispoordignitycouldnotseesolow.

Buthetookthecigars,onSundays,andwasgladtogetthem;andsometimesevencondescended towalkupanddown theyardwith thedonor (whowasproudandhopefulthen),andbenignantlytosmokeoneinhissociety.Withnoless readiness and condescension did he receive attentions from ChiverySenior,whoalwaysrelinquishedhisarmchairandnewspapertohim,whenhecame into the Lodge during one of his spells of duty; and who had evenmentionedtohim,that,ifhewouldlikeatanytimeafterduskquietlytostepout into the forecourt and take a look at the street, there was not much toprevent him. If he did not avail himself of this latter civility, it was onlybecausehehad lost the relish for it; inasmuchashe tookeverythingelsehecould get, and would say at times, 'Extremely civil person, Chivery; veryattentiveman and very respectful.YoungChivery, too; really almostwith adelicate perception of one's position here. A very well conducted family

indeed,theChiveries.Theirbehaviourgratifiesme.'

ThedevotedYoungJohnallthistimeregardedthefamilywithreverence.Heneverdreamedofdisputingtheirpretensions,butdidhomagetothemiserableMumbojumbotheyparaded.Astoresentinganyaffrontfromherbrother,hewould have felt, even if he had not naturally been of a most pacificdisposition, that to wag his tongue or lift his hand against that sacredgentleman would be an unhallowed act. He was sorry that his noble mindshould take offence; still, he felt the fact to be not incompatible with itsnobility,andsoughttopropitiateandconciliatethatgallantsoul.Herfather,agentlemaninmisfortuneagentlemanofafinespiritandcourtlymanners,whoalwaysborewithhimhedeeplyhonoured.Hersisterheconsideredsomewhatvainandproud,butayoungladyofinfiniteaccomplishments,whocouldnotforget the past. It was an instinctive testimony to Little Dorrit's worth anddifferencefromalltherest,thatthepooryoungfellowhonouredandlovedherforbeingsimplywhatshewas.

ThetobaccobusinessroundthecornerofHorsemongerLanewascarriedoutinaruralestablishmentonestoryhigh,whichhadthebenefitoftheairfromtheyardsofHorsemongerLanejail,andtheadvantageofaretiredwalkunderthe wall of that pleasant establishment. The business was of too modest acharacter to supporta lifesizeHighlander,but itmaintaineda littleoneonabracket on the doorpost, who looked like a fallen Cherub that had found itnecessarytotaketoakilt.Fromtheportalthusdecorated,oneSundayafteranearly dinner of baked viands,Young John issued forth on his usual Sundayerrand;notemptyhanded,butwithhisofferingofcigars.Hewasneatlyattiredin a plumcoloured coat, with as large a collar of black velvet as his figurecould carry; a silken waistcoat, bedecked with golden sprigs; a chasteneckerchief much in vogue at that day, representing a preserve of lilacpheasants on a buff ground; pantaloons so highly decoratedwith sidestripesthateach legwasa threestringed lute;andahatofstateveryhighandhard.WhentheprudentMrsChiveryperceivedthatinadditiontotheseadornmentsherJohncarriedapairofwhitekidgloves,andacanelikealittlefingerpost,surmountedbyanivoryhandmarshallinghimthewaythatheshouldgo;andwhenshesawhim,inthisheavymarchingorder,turnthecornertotheright;she remarked toMrChivery,whowasathomeat the time, that she thoughtsheknewwhichwaythewindblew.

The Collegians were entertaining a considerable number of visitors thatSundayafternoon,andtheirFatherkepthisroomforthepurposeofreceivingpresentations.Aftermaking the tour of the yard,LittleDorrit's loverwith ahurried heart went upstairs, and knocked with his knuckles at the Father'sdoor.

'Comein,comein!'saidagraciousvoice.TheFather'svoice,herfather's,theMarshalsea's father's. He was seated in his black velvet cap, with hisnewspaper, threeandsixpence accidentally left on the table, and two chairsarranged.EverythingpreparedforholdinghisCourt.

'Ah,YoungJohn!Howdoyoudo,howdoyoudo!'

'Prettywell,Ithankyou,sir.Ihopeyouarethesame.'

'Yes,JohnChivery;yes.Nothingtocomplainof.'

'Ihavetakentheliberty,sir,of'

'Eh?'TheFatheroftheMarshalseaalwayslifteduphiseyebrowsatthispoint,andbecameamiablydistraughtandsmilinglyabsentinmind.

'Afewcigars,sir.'

'Oh!'(Forthemoment,excessivelysurprised.)'Thankyou,YoungJohn,thankyou.Butreally,IamafraidIamtooNo?Wellthen,Iwillsaynomoreaboutit.Put them on themantelshelf, if you please, Young John. And sit down, sitdown.Youarenotastranger,John.'

'Thankyou, sir, I amsureMiss;'hereYoungJohn turned thegreathat roundand round upon his lefthand, like a slowly twirlingmousecage; 'Miss Amyquitewell,sir?''Yes,John,yes;verywell.Sheisout.''Indeed,sir?'

'Yes,John.MissAmyisgoneforanairing.Myyoungpeopleallgooutagooddeal.Butattheirtimeoflife,it'snatural,John.'

'Verymuchso,Iamsure,sir.'

'An airing.Anairing.Yes.'Hewasblandly tappinghis fingerson the table,andcastinghiseyesupatthewindow.'AmyhasgoneforanairingontheIronBridge.ShehasbecomequitepartialtotheIronBridgeoflate,andseemstolike towalk there better than anywhere.'He returned to conversation. 'Yourfatherisnotondutyatpresent,Ithink,John?'

'No,sir,hecomesonlaterintheafternoon.'Anothertwirlofthegreathat,andthenYoungJohnsaid,rising,'IamafraidImustwishyougoodday,sir.'

'Sosoon?Goodday,YoungJohn.Nay,nay,'with theutmostcondescension,'nevermind your glove, John. Shake handswith it on. You are no strangerhere,youknow.'

Highlygratifiedby thekindnessofhis reception,YoungJohndescended thestaircase.OnhiswaydownhemetsomeCollegiansbringingupvisitorstobe

presented,andat thatmomentMrDorrithappened tocallover thebanisterswithparticular distinctness, 'Muchobliged to you for your little testimonial,John!'

LittleDorrit'sloververysoonlaiddownhispennyonthetollplateoftheIronBridge, and came upon it looking about him for the wellknown andwellbelovedfigure.Atfirsthefearedshewasnotthere;butashewalkedontowardstheMiddlesexside,hesawherstandingstill,lookingatthewater.Shewasabsorbedinthought,andhewonderedwhatshemightbethinkingabout.Therewerethepilesofcityroofsandchimneys,morefreefromsmokethanonweekdays;andtherewerethedistantmastsandsteeples.Perhapsshewasthinkingaboutthem.

LittleDorritmusedsolong,andwassoentirelypreoccupied,thatalthoughherlover stood quiet for what he thought was a long time, and twice or thriceretiredandcamebackagaintotheformerspot,stillshedidnotmove.So,intheend,hemadeuphismindtogoon,andseemtocomeuponhercasuallyinpassing,andspeaktoher.Theplacewasquiet,andnoworneverwasthetimetospeaktoher.

Hewalkedon,andshedidnotappeartohearhisstepsuntilhewascloseuponher.Whenhesaid 'MissDorrit!' shestartedandfellback fromhim,withanexpression in her face of fright and something like dislike that caused himunutterable dismay. She had often avoided him beforealways, indeed, for along,longwhile.Shehadturnedawayandglidedoffsooftenwhenshehadseenhimcomingtowardher,thattheunfortunateYoungJohncouldnotthinkitaccidental.Buthehadhopedthatitmightbeshyness,herretiringcharacter,herforeknowledgeofthestateofhisheart,anythingshortofaversion.Now,thatmomentary lookhad said, 'You,of allpeople! Iwould ratherhave seenanyoneonearththanyou!'

Itwasbutamomentarylook,inasmuchasshecheckedit,andsaidinhersoftlittlevoice, 'Oh,MrJohn!Isityou?'Butshefeltwhatithadbeen,ashefeltwhatithadbeen;andtheystoodlookingatoneanotherequallyconfused.

'MissAmy,IamafraidIdisturbedyoubyspeakingtoyou.'

'Yes,rather.IIcameheretobealone,andIthoughtIwas.'

'MissAmy,Itookthelibertyofwalkingthisway,becauseMrDorritchancedtomention,whenIcalleduponhimjustnow,thatyou'

Shecausedhimmoredismaythanbeforebysuddenlymurmuring, 'Ofather,father!'inaheartrendingtone,andturningherfaceaway.

'MissAmy, I hope I don't give you any uneasiness by namingMrDorrit. IassureyouIfoundhimverywellandinthebestofSpirits,andheshowedmeevenmorethanhisusualkindness;beingsoverykindastosaythatIwasnotastrangerthere,andinallwaysgratifyingmeverymuch.'

Totheinexpressibleconsternationofherlover,LittleDorrit,withherhandstoheravertedface,androckingherselfwhereshestoodas ifshewere inpain,murmured,'Ofather,howcanyou!Odear,dearfather,howcanyou,canyou,doit!'

The poor fellow stood gazing at her, overflowing with sympathy, but notknowingwhat tomakeof this, until, having takenout her handkerchief andput it to her still averted face, she hurried away.At first he remained stockstill;thenhurriedafterher.

'MissAmy,pray!Willyouhavethegoodnesstostopamoment?MissAmy,ifitcomestothat,letMEgo.Ishallgooutofmysenses,ifIhavetothinkthatIhavedrivenyouawaylikethis.'

HistremblingvoiceandunfeignedearnestnessbroughtLittleDorrittoastop.'Oh,Idon'tknowwhattodo,'shecried,'Idon'tknowwhattodo!'

ToYoungJohn,whohadneverseenherbereftofherquietselfcommand,whohadseenherfromherinfancyeversoreliableandselfsuppressed,therewasashock inherdistress, and inhaving toassociatehimselfwith it as itscause,that shook him from his great hat to the pavement. He felt it necessary toexplainhimself.Hemightbemisunderstoodsupposed tomeansomething,orto have done something, that had never entered into his imagination. Hebeggedhertohearhimexplainhimself,asthegreatestfavourshecouldshowhim.

'MissAmy,Iknowverywellthatyourfamilyisfarabovemine.Itwerevaintoconcealit.ThereneverwasaChiveryagentlemanthateverIheardof,andIwillnotcommitthemeannessofmakingafalserepresentationonasubjectsomomentous.MissAmy,Iknowverywellthatyourhighsouledbrother,andlikewiseyourspiritedsister,spurnmefromaheight.WhatIhavetodoistorespect them, to wish to be admitted to their friendship, to look up at theeminence on which they are placed from my lowlier stationfor, whetherviewedastobaccoorviewedasthelock,Iwellknowitislowlyandeverwishthemwellandhappy.'

Therereallywasagenuinenessinthepoorfellow,andacontrastbetweenthehardnessofhishatandthesoftnessofhisheart(albeit,perhaps,ofhishead,too),thatwasmoving.LittleDorritentreatedhimtodisparageneitherhimselfnor his station, and, above all things, to divest himself of any idea that she

supposedherstobesuperior.Thisgavehimalittlecomfort.

'MissAmy,'hethenstammered,'IhavehadforalongtimeagestheyseemtomeRevolvingagesaheartcherishedwish to saysomething toyou.May I sayit?'

LittleDorritinvoluntarilystartedfromhissideagain,withthefaintestshadowofherformerlook;conqueringthat,shewentonatgreatspeedhalfacrosstheBridgewithoutreplying!

'MayIMissAmy,IbutaskthequestionhumblymayIsayit?Ihavebeensounluckyalreadyingivingyoupainwithouthavinganysuchintentions,beforethe holy Heavens! that there is no fear of my saying it unless I have yourleave.Icanbemiserablealone,Icanbecutupbymyself,whyshouldIalsomakemiserableandcutupone that Iwould flingmyselfoff thatparapet togive half a moment's joy to! Not that that's much to do, for I'd do it fortwopence.'

Themournfulnessofhisspirits,andthegorgeousnessofhisappearance,mighthavemadehimridiculous,but thathisdelicacymadehimrespectable.LittleDorritlearntfromitwhattodo.

'Ifyouplease,JohnChivery,'shereturned,trembling,butinaquietway,'sinceyou are so considerate as to askmewhether you shall say anymoreif youplease,no.'

'Never,MissAmy?'

'No,ifyouplease.Never.'

'OLord!'gaspedYoungJohn.

'Butperhapsyouwill letme, instead,saysomething toyou. Iwant tosay itearnestly,andwithasplainameaningasitispossibletoexpress.Whenyouthink of us, JohnImeanmy brother, and sister, andmedon't think of us asbeinganydifferentfromtherest;for,whateverweoncewere(whichIhardlyknow)weceasedtobelongago,andnevercanbeanymore.Itwillbemuchbetterforyou,andmuchbetterforothers,ifyouwilldothatinsteadofwhatyouaredoingnow.'

YoungJohndolefullyprotestedthathewouldtrytobearitinmind,andwouldbeheartilygladtodoanythingshewished.

'As tome,' saidLittleDorrit, 'think as little ofme as you can; the less, thebetter.Whenyouthinkofmeatall,John,letitonlybeasthechildyouhaveseengrowupintheprisonwithonesetofdutiesalwaysoccupyingher;asa

weak, retired, contented, unprotected girl. I particularly want you toremember,thatwhenIcomeoutsidethegate,Iamunprotectedandsolitary.'

Hewould try to do anything shewished. Butwhy didMissAmy somuchwanthimtorememberthat?

'Because,'returnedLittleDorrit,'IknowIcanthenquitetrustyounottoforgettoday,andnottosayanymoretome.YouaresogenerousthatIknowIcantrust toyoufor that;andIdoandIalwayswill. Iamgoing toshowyou,atonce,thatIfullytrustyou.IlikethisplacewherewearespeakingbetterthananyplaceIknow;'herslightcolourhadfaded,butherloverthoughthesawitcomingbackjustthen;'andImaybeoftenhere.Iknowitisonlynecessaryforme to tell you so, to be quite sure that you will never come here again insearchofme.AndIamquitesure!'

Shemightrelyuponit,saidYoungJohn.Hewasamiserablewretch,butherwordwasmorethanalawforhim.

'Andgoodbye,John,'saidLittleDorrit.'AndIhopeyouwillhaveagoodwifeoneday,andbeahappyman.Iamsureyouwilldeservetobehappy,andyouwillbe,John.'

Assheheldoutherhandtohimwiththesewords,theheartthatwasunderthewaistcoat of sprigsmere slopwork, if the truthmust be knownswelled to thesizeoftheheartofagentleman;andthepoorcommonlittlefellow,havingnoroomtoholdit,burstintotears.

'Oh,don'tcry,'saidLittleDorritpiteously. 'Don't,don't!Goodbye,John.Godblessyou!'

'Goodbye,MissAmy.Goodbye!'

Andsohe lefther: firstobserving thatshesatdownon thecornerofaseat,and not only rested her little hand upon the rough wall, but laid her faceagainst it too, as if her headwere heavy, and hermindwere sad. Itwas anaffectingillustrationofthefallacyofhumanprojects,tobeholdherlover,withthegreathatpulledoverhiseyes,thevelvetcollarturnedupasifitrained,theplumcolouredcoatbuttonedtoconceal thesilkenwaistcoatofgoldensprigs,and the little directionpost pointing inexorably home, creeping along by theworstbackstreets,andcomposing,ashewent, the followingnew inscriptionforatombstoneinStGeorge'sChurchyard:

'Here lie the mortal remains Of JOHN CHIVERY, Never anything worthmentioning,Whodiedabout theendof theyearonethousandeighthundredandtwentysix,Ofabrokenheart,Requestingwithhislastbreaththattheword

AMYmightbeinscribedoverhisashes,whichwasaccordinglydirectedtobedone,ByhisafflictedParents.'

CHAPTER19.

TheFatheroftheMarshalseaintwoorthreeRelations

The brothers William and Frederick Dorrit, walking up and down theCollegeyardofcourseonthearistocraticorPumpside,fortheFathermadeitapointofhis state tobecharyofgoingamonghis childrenon thePoor side,except on Sunday mornings, Christmas Days, and other occasions ofceremony, in the observance whereof he was very punctual, and at whichtimeshelaidhishandupontheheadsoftheirinfants,andblessedthoseyounginsolventswithabenignity thatwashighlyedifyingthebrothers,walkingupand down the Collegeyard together, were a memorable sight. Frederick thefree,wassohumbled,bowed,withered,andfaded;Williamthebond,wassocourtly,condescending,andbenevolentlyconsciousofaposition;thatinthisregardonly,ifinnoother,thebrotherswereaspectacletowonderat.

Theywalkedupanddown theyardon theeveningofLittleDorrit'sSundayinterviewwithherloverontheIronBridge.Thecaresofstatewereoverforthatday,theDrawingRoomhadbeenwellattended,severalnewpresentationshad taken place, the threeandsixpence accidentally left on the table hadaccidentally increased to twelve shillings, and the Father of theMarshalsearefreshedhimselfwith awhiffof cigar.Ashewalkedupanddown, affablyaccommodating his step to the shuffle of his brother, not proud in hissuperiority, but considerate of that poor creature, bearing with him, andbreathingtolerationofhisinfirmitiesineverylittlepuffofsmokethatissuedfromhislipsandaspiredtogetoverthespikedwall,hewasasighttowonderat.

His brother Frederick of the dim eye, palsied hand, bent form, and gropingmind,submissivelyshuffledathisside,acceptinghispatronageasheacceptedeveryincidentofthelabyrinthianworldinwhichhehadgotlost.Heheldtheusualscrewedbitofwhiteybrownpaperinhishand,fromwhichheeverandagain unscrewed a spare pinch of snuff. That falteringly taken, he wouldglanceathisbrothernotunadmiringly,puthishandsbehindhim,andshuffleon so at his side until he took another pinch, or stood still to look abouthimperchance suddenly missing his clarionet. The College visitors weremeltingawayastheshadesofnightdrewon,buttheyardwasstillprettyfull,

the Collegians being mostly out, seeing their friends to the Lodge. As thebrotherspacedtheyard,Williamthebondlookedabouthimtoreceivesalutes,returned them by graciously lifting off his hat, and, with an engaging air,prevented Frederick the free from running against the company, or beingjostledagainstthewall.TheCollegiansasabodywerenoteasilyimpressible,buteventhey,accordingtotheirvariouswaysofwondering,appearedtofindinthetwobrothersasighttowonderat.

'Youarealittlelowthisevening,Frederick,'saidtheFatheroftheMarshalsea.'Anythingthematter?'

'Thematter?' He stared for amoment, and then dropped his head and eyesagain.'No,William,no.Nothingisthematter.'

'Ifyoucouldbepersuadedtosmartenyourselfupalittle,Frederick'

'Aye,aye!'saidtheoldmanhurriedly.'ButIcan'tbe.Ican'tbe.Don'ttalkso.That'sallover.'

TheFather of theMarshalseaglanced at a passingCollegianwithwhomhewasonfriendlyterms,aswhoshouldsay,'Anenfeebledoldman,this;butheismybrother,sir,mybrother,andthevoiceofNatureispotent!'andsteeredhisbrotherclearofthehandleofthepumpbythethreadbaresleeve.Nothingwouldhavebeenwantingtotheperfectionofhischaracterasafraternalguide,philosopherandfriend,ifhehadonlysteeredhisbrotherclearofruin,insteadofbringingituponhim.

'I think,William,' said theobjectofhisaffectionateconsideration, 'that Iamtired,andwillgohometobed.'

'MydearFrederick,'returnedtheother,'don'tletmedetainyou;don'tsacrificeyourinclinationtome.'

'Late hours, and a heated atmosphere, and years, I suppose,' said Frederick,'weakenme.'

'MydearFrederick,'returnedtheFatheroftheMarshalsea,'doyouthinkyouare sufficiently careful of yourself?Do you think your habits are as preciseand methodical asshall I say as mine are? Not to revert again to that littleeccentricitywhichImentionedjustnow,Idoubtifyoutakeairandexerciseenough,Frederick.Hereistheparade,alwaysatyourservice.Whynotuseitmoreregularlythanyoudo?'

'Hah!'sighedtheother.'Yes,yes,yes,yes.'

'But it is of no use saying yes, yes, my dear Frederick,' the Father of the

Marshalsea in his mild wisdom persisted, 'unless you act on that assent.Considermycase,Frederick.Iamakindofexample.Necessityandtimehavetaughtmewhattodo.Atcertainstatedhoursoftheday,youwillfindmeontheparade,inmyroom,intheLodge,readingthepaper,receivingcompany,eating and drinking. I have impressed uponAmy duringmany years, that Imusthavemymeals(forinstance)punctually.Amyhasgrownupinasenseoftheimportanceofthesearrangements,andyouknowwhatagoodgirlsheis.'

Thebrotheronlysighedagain,asheploddeddreamilyalong,'Hah!Yes,yes,yes,yes.'

'Mydearfellow,'saidtheFatheroftheMarshalsea,layinghishanduponhisshoulder,andmildly rallyinghimmildly,becauseofhisweakness,poordearsoul;'yousaidthatbefore,anditdoesnotexpressmuch,Frederick,evenifitmeansmuch. Iwish I could rouse you,mygoodFrederick; youwant to beroused.'

'Yes,William, yes.No doubt,' returned the other, lifting his dim eyes to hisface.'ButIamnotlikeyou.'

TheFather of theMarshalsea said,with a shrug ofmodest selfdepreciation,'Oh!Youmightbe likeme,mydearFrederick;youmightbe, ifyouchose!'and forbore, in the magnanimity of his strength, to press his fallen brotherfurther.

Therewas a great deal of leavetaking going on in corners, aswas usual onSunday nights; and here and there in the dark, some poor woman, wife ormother, was weeping with a new Collegian. The time had been when theFatherhimselfhadwept,intheshadesofthatyard,ashisownpoorwifehadwept.Butitwasmanyyearsago;andnowhewaslikeapassengeraboardshipinalongvoyage,whohasrecoveredfromseasickness,andisimpatientofthatweakness in the fresher passengers taken aboard at the last port. He wasinclined to remonstrate, and to expresshis opinion that peoplewhocouldn'tgetonwithoutcrying,hadnobusiness there. Inmanner, ifnot inwords,healwaystestifiedhisdispleasureattheseinterruptionsofthegeneralharmony;anditwassowellunderstood,thatdelinquentsusuallywithdrewiftheywereawareofhim.

OnthisSundayevening,heaccompaniedhisbrothertothegatewithanairofenduranceandclemency;beinginablandtemperandgraciouslydisposedtooverlook the tears. In the flaring gaslight of the Lodge, several Collegianswere basking; some taking leave of visitors, and somewho had no visitors,watchingthefrequentturningofthekey,andconversingwithoneanotherandwithMrChivery.Thepaternalentrancemadea sensationofcourse;andMr

Chivery, touchinghishat (ina shortmanner though)withhiskey,hopedhefoundhimselftolerable.

'Thankyou,Chivery,quitewell.Andyou?'

MrChiverysaidinalowgrowl,'Oh!hewasallright.'Whichwashisgeneralwayofacknowledginginquiriesafterhishealthwhenalittlesullen.

'I had avisit fromYoung John today,Chivery.Andvery smart he looked, Iassureyou.'

SoMrChiveryhadheard.MrChiverymustconfess,however, thathiswishwasthattheboydidn'tlayoutsomuchmoneyuponit.Forwhatdiditbringhimin?Itonlybroughthiminwexation.Andhecouldgetthatanywherefornothing.

'Howvexation,Chivery?'askedthebenignantfather.

'Noodds,'returnedMrChivery.'Nevermind.MrFrederickgoingout?'

'Yes,Chivery,mybrotherisgoinghometobed.Heistired,andnotquitewell.Takecare,Frederick,takecare.Goodnight,mydearFrederick!'

Shakinghandswithhisbrother,andtouchinghisgreasyhattothecompanyinthe Lodge, Frederick slowly shuffled out of the door which Mr Chiveryunlockedforhim.TheFatheroftheMarshalseashowedtheamiablesolicitudeofasuperiorbeingthatheshouldcometonoharm.

'Besokindastokeepthedooropenamoment,Chivery,thatImayseehimgoalong the passage and down the steps. Take care, Frederick! (He is veryinfirm.)Mind the steps! (He is so very absent.) Be careful how you cross,Frederick.(Ireallydon'tlikethenotionofhisgoingwanderingatlarge,heissoextremelyliabletoberunover.)'

With these words, and with a face expressive of many uneasy doubts andmuch anxious guardianship, he turned his regards upon the assembledcompanyintheLodge:soplainlyindicatingthathisbrotherwastobepitiedfor not being under lock and key, that an opinion to that effectwent roundamongtheCollegiansassembled.

Buthedidnotreceiveitwithunqualifiedassent;onthecontrary,hesaid,No,gentlemen, no; let them not misunderstand him. His brother Frederick wasmuch broken, no doubt, and it might be more comfortable to himself (theFatherof theMarshalsea) toknowthathewassafewithin thewalls.Still, itmust be remembered that to support an existence there duringmany years,required a certain combination of qualitieshe did not say high qualities, but

qualitiesmoralqualities.Now,hadhisbrotherFrederickthatpeculiarunionofqualities?Gentlemen,hewasamostexcellentman,amostgentle,tender,andestimableman,with thesimplicityofachild;butwouldhe, thoughunsuitedformostotherplaces,doforthatplace?No;hesaidconfidently,no!And,hesaid,HeavenforbidthatFrederickshouldbethereinanyothercharacterthaninhispresentvoluntarycharacter!Gentlemen,whoevercametothatCollege,toremaintherealengthoftime,musthavestrengthofcharactertogothroughagooddealandtocomeoutofagooddeal.WashisbelovedbrotherFrederickthatman?No.Theysawhim,evenasitwas,crushed.Misfortunecrushedhim.Hehadnotpowerofrecoilenough,notelasticityenough,tobealongtimeinsuchaplace,andyetpreservehisselfrespectandfeelconsciousthathewasagentleman.Frederickhadnot(ifhemightusetheexpression)PowerenoughtoseeinanydelicatelittleattentionsandandTestimonialsthathemightundersuch circumstances receive, the goodness of human nature, the fine spiritanimatingtheCollegiansasacommunity,andatthesametimenodegradationtohimself,andnodepreciationofhisclaimsasagentleman.Gentlemen,Godblessyou!

Suchwasthehomilywithwhichheimprovedandpointedtheoccasiontothecompany in theLodge before turning into the sallowyard again, and goingwithhisownpoorshabbydignitypasttheCollegianinthedressinggownwhohadnocoat,andpasttheCollegianintheseasideslipperswhohadnoshoes,and past the stout greengrocer Collegian in the corduroy kneebreecheswhohadnocares,andpasttheleanclerkCollegianinbuttonlessblackwhohadnohopes,uphisownpoorshabbystaircasetohisownpoorshabbyroom.

There,thetablewaslaidforhissupper,andhisoldgreygownwasreadyforhimonhischairbackatthefire.Hisdaughterputherlittleprayerbookinherpockethadshebeenprayingforpityonallprisonersandcaptives!androsetowelcomehim.

Unclehadgonehome, then?sheasked@asshechangedhiscoatandgavehimhisblackvelvetcap.Yes,unclehadgonehome.Hadherfatherenjoyedhiswalk?Why,notmuch,Amy;notmuch.No!Didhenotfeelquitewell?

Asshe stoodbehindhim, leaningoverhischair so lovingly,he lookedwithdowncasteyesatthefire.Anuneasinessstoleoverhimthatwaslikeatouchofshame;andwhenhespoke,ashepresentlydid, itwas inanunconnectedandembarrassedmanner.

'Something, Ihem!I don't know what, has gone wrong with Chivery. He isnotha!notnearly soobligingandattentive asusual tonight. Ithem!it's a littlething,butitputsmeout,mylove.It'simpossibletoforget,'turninghishandsoverandoverandlookingcloselyatthem,'thathem!thatinsuchalifeasmine,

I amunfortunatelydependenton thesemen for somethingeveryhour in theday.'

Herarmwasonhisshoulder,butshedidnotlookinhisfacewhilehespoke.Bendingherheadshelookedanotherway.

'Ihem!Ican'tthink,Amy,whathasgivenChiveryoffence.Heisgenerallysosovery attentive and respectful. And tonight hewas quitequite short withme.Otherpeople there too!Why,goodHeaven! if Iwas to lose thesupportandrecognitionofChiveryandhisbrotherofficers,Imightstarvetodeathhere.'While he spoke, he was opening and shutting his hands like valves; soconsciousall the timeof that touchofshame, thatheshrunkbeforehisownknowledgeofhismeaning.

'Iha!Ican'tthinkwhatit'sowingto.IamsureIcannotimaginewhatthecauseof it is. There was a certain Jackson here once, a turnkey of the name ofJackson(Idon'tthinkyoucanrememberhim,mydear,youwereveryyoung),andhem!and he had abrother, and thisyoung brother paid his addresses toatleast, did not go so far as to pay his addresses tobut admiredrespectfullyadmiredthenot daughter, the sisterof one of us; a rather distinguishedCollegian; Imay say, verymuch so.His namewasCaptainMartin; and heconsulted me on the question whether It was necessary that hisdaughtersistershouldhazardoffendingtheturnkeybrotherbybeingtooha!tooplainwith the other brother.CaptainMartinwas a gentleman and aman ofhonour,andIputittohimfirsttogivemehishisownopinion.CaptainMartin(highlyrespectedinthearmy)thenunhesitatinglysaidthatitappearedtohimthat hishem!sister was not called upon to understand the young man toodistinctly,andthatshemightleadhimonIamdoubtfulwhether"leadhimon"wasCaptainMartin'sexactexpression: indeedI thinkhesaid toleratehimonher father'sI should say, brother'saccount. I hardly knowhow I have strayedinto this story. I suppose it has been through being unable to account forChivery;butastotheconnectionbetweenthetwo,Idon'tsee'

Hisvoicediedaway,asifshecouldnotbearthepainofhearinghim,andherhandhadgraduallycrepttohislips.Foralittlewhiletherewasadeadsilenceandstillness;andheremainedshrunkinhischair,andsheremainedwithherarmroundhisneckandherheadboweddownuponhisshoulder.

Hissupperwascookinginasaucepanonthefire,and,whenshemoved,itwastomakeitreadyforhimonthetable.Hetookhisusualseat,shetookhers,andhebeganhismeal.Theydidnot,asyet,lookatoneanother.Bylittleandlittlehe began; laying down his knife and fork with a noise, taking things upsharply,bitingathisbreadasifhewereoffendedwithit,andinothersimilarwaysshowingthathewasoutofsorts.Atlengthhepushedhisplatefromhim,

andspokealoud;withthestrangestinconsistency.

'WhatdoesitmatterwhetherIeatorstarve?Whatdoesitmatterwhethersuchablightedlifeasminecomestoanend,now,nextweek,ornextyear?Whatam Iworth to anyone?A poor prisoner, fed on alms and broken victuals; asqualid,disgracedwretch!'

'Father, father!' As he rose she went on her knees to him, and held up herhandstohim.

'Amy,'hewenton ina suppressedvoice, tremblingviolently,and lookingatheraswildlyas ifhehadgonemad. 'I tellyou, ifyoucouldseemeasyourmother saw me, you wouldn't believe it to be the creature you have onlylookedat through thebarsof this cage. Iwasyoung, Iwasaccomplished, Iwasgoodlooking,IwasindependentbyGodIwas,child!andpeoplesoughtmeout,andenviedme.Enviedme!'

'Dearfather!'Shetriedtotakedowntheshakingarmthatheflourishedintheair,butheresisted,andputherhandaway.

'IfIhadbutapictureofmyselfinthosedays,thoughitwaseversoilldone,youwouldbeproudofit,youwouldbeproudofit.ButIhavenosuchthing.Now,letmebeawarning!Letnoman,'hecried,lookinghaggardlyabout,'failtopreserveatleastthatlittleofthetimesofhisprosperityandrespect.Lethischildren have that clue to what he was. Unless my face, when I am dead,subsides into the long departed lookthey say such things happen, I don'tknowmychildrenwillhaveneverseenme.'

'Father,father!'

'Odespiseme,despiseme!Lookawayfromme,don'tlistentome,stopme,blushforme,cryformeevenyou,Amy!Doit,doit!Idoittomyself!Iamhardenednow,Ihavesunktoolowtocarelongevenforthat.'

'Dearfather,lovedfather,darlingofmyheart!'Shewasclingingtohimwithherarms,andshegothimtodropintohischairagain,andcaughtattheraisedarm,andtriedtoputitroundherneck.

'Letitliethere,father.Lookatme,father,kissme,father!Onlythinkofme,father,foronelittlemoment!'

Stillhewentoninthesamewildway,thoughitwasgraduallybreakingdownintoamiserablewhining.

'AndyetIhavesomerespecthere.Ihavemadesomestandagainstit.Iamnotquite trodden down. Go out and ask who is the chief person in the place.

They'lltellyouit'syourfather.Gooutandaskwhoisnevertrifledwith,andwhoisalwaystreatedwithsomedelicacy.They'llsay,yourfather.Gooutandaskwhat funeral here (itmust be here, I know it can be nowhere else)willmakemoretalk,andperhapsmoregrief,thananythathasevergoneoutatthegate. They'll say your father's. Well then. Amy! Amy! Is your father souniversallydespised?Istherenothingtoredeemhim?Willyouhavenothingto remember him by but his ruin and decay?Will you be able to have noaffectionforhimwhenheisgone,poorcastaway,gone?'

Heburstintotearsofmaudlinpityforhimself,andatlengthsufferinghertoembracehimandtakechargeofhim,lethisgreyheadrestagainsthercheek,and bewailed his wretchedness. Presently he changed the subject of hislamentations,andclaspinghishandsaboutherassheembracedhim,cried,OAmy,hismotherless,forlornchild!Othedaysthathehadseenhercarefulandlaboriousforhim!Thenherevertedtohimself,andweaklytoldherhowmuchbetter she would have loved him if she had known him in his vanishedcharacter, and how he would have married her to a gentleman who shouldhavebeenproudofherashisdaughter,andhow(atwhichhecriedagain)sheshould first have ridden at his fatherly side on her own horse, and how thecrowd(bywhichhemeantineffectthepeoplewhohadgivenhimthetwelveshillings he then had in his pocket) should have trudged the dusty roadsrespectfully.

Thus, now boasting, now despairing, in either fit a captive with the jailrotuponhim,and the impurityofhisprisonworn into thegrainofhis soul,herevealedhisdegeneratestatetohisaffectionatechild.Nooneelseeverbeheldhim in the details of his humiliation.Little recked theCollegianswhowerelaughing in their rooms over his late address in the Lodge, what a seriouspicturetheyhadintheirobscuregalleryoftheMarshalseathatSundaynight.

Therewasaclassicaldaughteronceperhapswhoministeredtoherfatherinhisprison as her mother had ministered to her. Little Dorrit, though of theunheroicmodernstockandmereEnglish,didmuchmore, incomfortingherfather'swastedheartuponherinnocentbreast,andturningtoitafountainofloveandfidelitythatneverrandryorwanedthroughallhisyearsoffamine.

Shesoothedhim;askedhimforhisforgivenessifshehadbeen,orseemedtohavebeen,undutiful;toldhim,Heavenknowstruly,thatshecouldnothonourhim more if he were the favourite of Fortune and the whole worldacknowledgedhim.Whenhistearsweredried,andhesobbedinhisweaknessnolonger,andwasfreefromthattouchofshame,andhadrecoveredhisusualbearing,shepreparedtheremainsofhissupperafresh,and,sittingbyhisside,rejoicedtoseehimeatanddrink.Fornowhesatinhisblackvelvetcapandold grey gown, magnanimous again; and would have comported himself

towardsanyCollegianwhomighthavelookedintoaskhisadvice,likeagreatmoral Lord Chesterfield, or Master of the ethical ceremonies of theMarshalsea.

Tokeephisattentionengaged,shetalkedwithhimabouthiswardrobe;whenhewas pleased to say, thatYes, indeed, those shirts she proposedwould beexceedingly acceptable, for those he had were worn out, and, beingreadymade, had never fitted him.Being conversational, and in a reasonableflowofspirits,hetheninvitedherattentiontohiscoatasithungbehindthedoor:remarkingthattheFatheroftheplacewouldsetanindifferentexampletohischildren,alreadydisposedtobeslovenly,ifhewentamongthemoutatelbows.Hewasjocular,too,astotheheelingofhisshoes;butbecamegraveonthesubjectofhiscravat,andpromisedherthat,whenshecouldaffordit,sheshouldbuyhimanewone.

Whilehesmokedouthiscigarinpeace,shemadehisbed,andputthesmallroominorderforhisrepose.Beingweary then,owingto theadvancedhourand his emotions, he came out of his chair to bless her andwish herGoodnight.All this timehehadneveronce thoughtofHERdress,her shoes,herneedofanything.Nootherpersonuponearth,saveherself,couldhavebeensounmindfulofherwants.

Hekissedhermanytimeswith'Blessyou,mylove.Goodnight,MYdear!'

Buthergentlebreasthadbeen sodeeplywoundedbywhat shehad seenofhim that she was unwilling to leave him alone, lest he should lament anddespairagain.'Father,dear,Iamnottired;letmecomebackpresently,whenyouareinbed,andsitbyyou.'

Heaskedher,withanairofprotection,ifshefeltsolitary?

'Yes,father.'

'Thencomebackbyallmeans,mylove.'

'Ishallbeveryquiet,father.'

'Don't think of me, my dear,' he said, giving her his kind permission fully.'Comebackbyallmeans.'

Heseemedtobedozingwhenshereturned,andsheputthelowfiretogethervery softly lest she should awakehim.Butheoverheardher, andcalledoutwhowasthat?

'OnlyAmy,father.'

'Amy,mychild,comehere.Iwanttosayawordtoyou.'Heraisedhimselfalittle inhislowbed,asshekneeledbesideit tobringherfacenearhim;andput his hand between hers.O!Both the private father and theFather of theMarshalseawerestrongwithinhimthen.

'Mylove,youhavehadalifeofhardshiphere.Nocompanions,norecreations,manycaresIamafraid?'

'Don'tthinkofthat,dear.Ineverdo.'

'Youknowmyposition,Amy.Ihavenotbeenabletodomuchforyou;butallIhavebeenabletodo,Ihavedone.'

'Yes,mydearfather,'sherejoined,kissinghim.'Iknow,Iknow.'

'Iaminthetwentythirdyearofmylifehere,'hesaid,withacatchinhisbreaththat was not so much a sob as an irrepressible sound of selfapproval, themomentary outburst of a noble consciousness. 'It is all I could do for mychildrenI have done it.Amy,my love, you are by far the best loved of thethree; I havehadyouprincipally inmymindwhatever I havedone for yoursake,mydearchild,Ihavedonefreelyandwithoutmurmuring.'

Onlythewisdomthatholdsthecluetoallheartsandallmysteries,cansurelyknowtowhatextentaman,especiallyamanbroughtdownas thismanhadbeen, can impose upon himself. Enough, for the present place, that he laydownwithweteyelashes,serene,inamannermajestic,afterbestowinghislifeof degradation as a sort of portion on the devoted child upon whom itsmiserieshadfallensoheavily,andwhoselovealonehadsavedhimtobeevenwhathewas.

That child had no doubts, asked herself no question, for she was but toocontent toseehimwithalustreroundhishead.Poordear,gooddear, truest,kindest,dearest,were theonlywordsshehadforhim,asshehushedhimtorest.

Shenever lefthimall thatnight.Asifshehaddonehimawrongwhichhertenderness could hardly repair, she sat by him in his sleep, at times softlykissing him with suspended breath, and calling him in a whisper by someendearing name. At times she stood aside so as not to intercept the lowfirelight,and,watchinghimwhenitfelluponhissleepingface,wondereddidhelooknowatallashehadlookedwhenhewasprosperousandhappy;ashehadsotouchedherbyimaginingthathemightlookoncemoreinthatawfultime.Atthethoughtofthattime,shekneeledbesidehisbedagain,andprayed,'Osparehislife!Osavehimtome!Olookdownuponmydear,longsuffering,unfortunate,muchchanged,deardearfather!'

Notuntil themorningcame toprotecthimandencouragehim,did shegivehimalastkissandleavethesmallroom.Whenshehadstolendownstairs,andalongtheemptyyard,andhadcreptuptoherownhighgarret,thesmokelesshousetops and thedistant countryhillswerediscernibleover thewall in theclearmorning.Asshegentlyopenedthewindow,andlookedeastwarddowntheprisonyard, the spikesupon thewallwere tippedwith red, thenmadeasullenpurplepatternon thesunas itcameflamingup into theheavens.Thespikes had never looked so sharp and cruel, nor the bars so heavy, nor theprisonspacesogloomyandcontracted.Shethoughtofthesunriseonrollingrivers, of the sunrise onwide seas, of the sunrise on rich landscapes, of thesunrise on great forests where the birds were waking and the trees wererustling;andshelookeddownintothelivinggraveonwhichthesunhadrisen,withherfatherinit threeandtwentyyears,andsaid, inaburstofsorrowandcompassion,'No,no,Ihaveneverseenhiminmylife!'

CHAPTER20.

MovinginSociety

IfYoungJohnChiveryhadhadtheinclinationandthepowertowriteasatireonfamilypride,hewouldhavehadnoneedtogoforanavengingillustrationoutofthefamilyofhisbeloved.Hewouldhavefounditamplyinthatgallantbrotherand thatdainty sister, so steeped inmeanexperiences, and so loftilyconsciousofthefamilyname;soreadytobegorborrowfromthepoorest,toeatofanybody'sbread,spendanybody'smoney,drinkfromanybody'scupandbreak it afterwards.Tohavepainted the sordid facts of their lives, and theythroughoutinvokingthedeath'sheadapparitionofthefamilygentilitytocomeandscaretheirbenefactors,wouldhavemadeYoungJohnasatiristofthefirstwater.

Tiphadturnedhislibertytohopefulaccountbybecomingabilliardmarker.Hehad troubled himself so little as to the means of his release, that Clennamscarcely needed to have been at the pains of impressing the mind of MrPlornish on that subject. Whoever had paid him the compliment, he veryreadilyacceptedthecomplimentwithHIScompliments,andtherewasanendof it. Issuing forth from the gate on these easy terms, he became abilliardmarker;andnowoccasionallylookedinatthelittleskittlegroundinagreenNewmarketcoat(secondhand),withashiningcollarandbrightbuttons(new),anddrankthebeeroftheCollegians.

Onesolidstationarypointintheloosenessofthisgentleman'scharacterwas,thatherespectedandadmiredhissisterAmy.Thefeelinghadneverinducedhimtospareheramoment'suneasiness,or toputhimself toanyrestraintorinconvenienceonheraccount;butwiththatMarshalseataintuponhislove,heloved her. The same rank Marshalsea flavour was to be recognised in hisdistinctlyperceivingthatshesacrificedherlifetoherfather,andinhishavingnoideathatshehaddoneanythingforhimself.

When this spirited young man and his sister had begun systematically toproduce the family skeleton for the overawing of theCollege, this narrativecannotpreciselystate.Probablyatabout theperiodwhentheybegantodineontheCollegecharity.Itiscertainthatthemorereducedandnecessitoustheywere,themorepompouslytheskeletonemergedfromitstomb;andthatwhentherewasanythingparticularlyshabbyinthewind,theskeletonalwayscameoutwiththeghastliestflourish.

LittleDorritwas late on theMondaymorning, for her father slept late, andafterwardstherewashisbreakfasttoprepareandhisroomtoarrange.Shehadno engagement to go out to work, however, and therefore stayed with himuntil,withMaggy'shelp,shehadputeverythingrightabouthim,andhadseenhimoffuponhismorningwalk(oftwentyyardsorso)tothecoffeehousetoreadthepaper.

Shethengotonherbonnetandwentout,havingbeenanxioustogetoutmuchsooner.Therewas,asusual,acessationof thesmalltalk in theLodgeasshepassed through it; and a Collegian who had come in on Saturday night,received the intimation fromtheelbowofamoreseasonedCollegian, 'Lookout.Heresheis!'Shewantedtoseehersister,butwhenshegotroundtoMrCripples's,shefoundthatbothhersisterandherunclehadgonetothetheatrewheretheywereengaged.Havingtakenthoughtofthisprobabilitybytheway,andhavingsettledthatinsuchcaseshewouldfollowthem,shesetoffafreshforthetheatre,whichwasonthatsideoftheriver,andnotveryfaraway.

LittleDorritwasalmostasignorantofthewaysoftheatresasofthewaysofgoldmines,andwhenshewasdirectedtoafurtivesortofdoor,withacuriousupallnightairaboutit,thatappearedtobeashamedofitselfandtobehidinginan alley, she hesitated to approach it; being further deterred by the sight ofsomehalfdozencloseshavedgentlemenwiththeirhatsverystrangelyon,whowere lounging about the door, looking not at all unlike Collegians. On herapplyingtothem,reassuredbythisresemblance,foradirectiontoMissDorrit,theymadewayforhertoenteradarkhallitwasmorelikeagreatgrimlampgoneoutthananythingelsewhereshecouldhearthedistantplayingofmusicandthesoundofdancingfeet.Amansomuchinwantofairingthathehadabluemoulduponhim,satwatchingthisdarkplacefromaholeinacorner,like

aspider;andhetoldherthathewouldsendamessageuptoMissDorritbythefirstladyorgentlemanwhowentthrough.Thefirstladywhowentthroughhad a roll ofmusic, half in hermuff and half out of it, andwas in such atumbled condition altogether, that it seemed as if it would be an act ofkindnesstoironher.Butasshewasverygoodnatured,andsaid, 'Comewithme; I'll soon find Miss Dorrit for you,' Miss Dorrit's sister went with her,drawingnearerandnearerateverystepshetookinthedarknesstothesoundofmusicandthesoundofdancingfeet.

At last they came into a maze of dust, where a quantity of people weretumbling over one another, and where there was such a confusion ofunaccountableshapesofbeams,bulkheads,brickwalls,ropes,androllers,andsuchamixingofgaslight anddaylight, that they seemed tohavegoton thewrong side of the pattern of the universe. Little Dorrit, left to herself, andknockedagainstbysomebodyeverymoment,wasquitebewildered,whensheheardhersister'svoice.

'Why,goodgracious,Amy,whateverbroughtyouhere?'

'Iwantedtoseeyou,Fannydear;andasIamgoingoutalldaytomorrow,andknewyoumightbeengagedalldaytoday,Ithought'

'But the idea,Amy,ofYOUcomingbehind! Ineverdid!'Asher sister saidthisinnoverycordialtoneofwelcome,sheconductedhertoamoreopenpartofthemaze,wherevariousgoldenchairsandtableswereheapedtogether,andwhere a number of young ladies were sitting on anything they could find,chattering.Alltheseyoungladieswantedironing,andallhadacuriouswayoflookingeverywherewhiletheychattered.

Justasthesistersarrivedhere,amonotonousboyinaScotchcapputhisheadroundabeamontheleft,andsaid,'Lessnoisethere,ladies!'anddisappeared.Immediatelyafterwhich,asprightlygentlemanwithaquantityoflongblackhair lookedroundabeamon the right,andsaid, 'Lessnoise there,darlings!'andalsodisappeared.

'Thenotionofyouamongprofessionals,Amy,isreallythelastthingIcouldhaveconceived!'saidhersister.'Why,howdidyouevergethere?'

'Idon'tknow.TheladywhotoldyouIwashere,wassogoodastobringmein.'

'Likeyouquiet little things!You canmakeyourway anywhere, I believe. Icouldn'thavemanagedit,Amy,thoughIknowsomuchmoreoftheworld.'

Itwas the family custom to lay it downas family law, that shewas a plain

domesticlittlecreature,withoutthegreatandsageexperienceoftherest.Thisfamily fictionwas the family assertion of itself against her services.Not tomaketoomuchofthem.

'Well!Andwhathaveyougotonyourmind,Amy?Ofcourseyouhavegotsomething on yourmind aboutme?' said Fanny. She spoke as if her sister,betweentwoandthreeyearsherjunior,wereherprejudicedgrandmother.

'Itisnotmuch;butsinceyoutoldmeoftheladywhogaveyouthebracelet,Fanny'

Themonotonousboyputhisheadroundthebeamontheleft,andsaid,'Lookoutthere,ladies!'anddisappeared.Thesprightlygentlemanwiththeblackhairas suddenly put his head round the beam on the right, and said, 'Look outthere,darlings!'andalsodisappeared.Thereuponalltheyoungladiesroseandbeganshakingtheirskirtsoutbehind.

'Well,Amy?'saidFanny,doingastherestdid;'whatwereyougoingtosay?'

'Sinceyoutoldmealadyhadgivenyouthebraceletyoushowedme,Fanny,Ihavenot beenquite easyonyour account, and indeedwant to knowa littlemoreifyouwillconfidemoretome.'

'Now, ladies!' said the boy in the Scotch cap. 'Now, darlings!' said thegentlemanwiththeblackhair.Theywereeveryonegoneinamoment,andthemusicandthedancingfeetwereheardagain.

Little Dorrit sat down in a golden chair, made quite giddy by these rapidinterruptions.Hersisterandtherestwerea longtimegone;andduringtheirabsenceavoice(itappearedtobe thatof thegentlemanwith theblackhair)was continually calling out through the music, 'One, two, three, four, five,sixgo! One, two, three, four, five, sixgo! Steady, darlings! One, two, three,four,five,sixgo!'Ultimatelythevoicestopped,andtheyallcamebackagain,more or less out of breath, folding themselves in their shawls, andmakingreadyforthestreets.'Stopamoment,Amy,andletthemgetawaybeforeus,'whispered Fanny. They were soon left alone; nothing more importanthappening, in themeantime, than the boy looking round his old beam, andsaying, 'Everybody at eleven tomorrow, ladies!' and the gentlemanwith theblack hair looking round his old beam, and saying, 'Everybody at eleventomorrow,darlings!'eachinhisownaccustomedmanner.

Whentheywerealone,somethingwasrolleduporbyothermeansgotoutoftheway,andtherewasagreatemptywellbeforethem,lookingdownintothedepths ofwhichFanny said, 'Now, uncle!'LittleDorrit, as her eyes becameused to the darkness, faintlymade him out at the bottom of thewell, in an

obscure corner by himself, with his instrument in its ragged case under hisarm.

The oldman looked as if the remote high gallerywindows,with their littlestripofsky,mighthavebeen thepointofhisbetter fortunes, fromwhichhehaddescended,untilhehadgraduallysunkdownbelowthere to thebottom.He had been in that place six nights aweek formany years, but had neverbeen observed to raise his eyes above his musicbook, and was confidentlybelievedtohaveneverseenaplay.Therewerelegendsintheplacethathedidnot somuchasknow thepopularheroesandheroinesbysight, and that thelow comedian had 'mugged' at him in his richest manner fifty nights for awager,andhehadshownnotraceofconsciousness.Thecarpentershadajoketotheeffectthathewasdeadwithoutbeingawareofit;andthefrequentersofthepitsupposedhimtopasshiswholelife,nightandday,andSundayandall,intheorchestra.Theyhadtriedhimafewtimeswithpinchesofsnuffofferedovertherails,andhehadalwaysrespondedtothisattentionwithamomentarywakingupofmannerthathadthepalephantomofagentlemaninit:beyondthishenever,onanyoccasion,hadanyotherpartinwhatwasgoingonthanthepartwrittenout for theclarionet; inprivate life,where therewasnopartfor theclarionet,hehadnopartatall.Somesaidhewaspoor,somesaidhewas a wealthy miser; but he said nothing, never lifted up his bowed head,nevervariedhisshufflinggaitbygettinghisspringlessfootfromtheground.Thoughexpectingnowtobesummonedbyhisniece,hedidnothearheruntilshehadspokentohimthreeorfourtimes;norwasheatallsurprisedbythepresenceoftwoniecesinsteadofone,butmerelysaidinhistremulousvoice,'Iamcoming,Iamcoming!'andcreptforthbysomeundergroundwaywhichemittedacellaroussmell.

'Andso,Amy,'saidhersister,whenthethreetogetherpassedoutatthedoorthathadsuchashamefacedconsciousnessofbeingdifferentfromotherdoors:theuncleinstinctivelytakingAmy'sarmasthearmtobereliedon:'so,Amy,youarecuriousaboutme?'

She was pretty, and conscious, and rather flaunting; and the condescensionwithwhich she put aside the superiority of her charms, and of herworldlyexperience,andaddressedhersisteronalmostequalterms,hadavastdealofthefamilyinit.

'Iaminterested,Fanny,andconcernedinanythingthatconcernsyou.'

'So you are, so you are, and you are the best ofAmys. If I am ever a littleprovoking,Iamsureyou'llconsiderwhatathingitistooccupymypositionand feel a consciousness of being superior to it. I shouldn't care,' said theDaughteroftheFatheroftheMarshalsea,'iftheotherswerenotsocommon.

Noneofthemhavecomedownintheworldaswehave.Theyareallontheirownlevel.Common.'

LittleDorritmildlylookedatthespeaker,butdidnotinterrupther.Fannytookoutherhandkerchief,andratherangrilywipedhereyes.'Iwasnotbornwhereyou were, you know, Amy, and perhaps that makes a difference. My dearchild,whenwegetridofUncle,youshallknowallaboutit.We'lldrophimatthecook'sshopwhereheisgoingtodine.'

Theywalkedonwithhimuntil theycame toadirtyshopwindowinadirtystreet,whichwasmadealmostopaquebythesteamofhotmeats,vegetables,andpuddings.Butglimpsesweretobecaughtofaroastlegofporkburstingintotearsofsageandonioninametalreservoirfullofgravy,ofanunctuouspieceofroastbeefandblisterousYorkshirepudding,bubblinghotinasimilarreceptacle, of a stuffed fillet ofveal in rapid cut, of aham in aperspirationwith the pace it was going at, of a shallow tank of baked potatoes gluedtogetherby theirown richness,ofa trussor twoofboiledgreens, andothersubstantial delicacies.Within, were a few wooden partitions, behind whichsuch customers as found it more convenient to take away their dinners instomachs than in their hands, Packed their purchases in solitude. Fannyopening her reticule, as they surveyed these things, produced from thatrepository a shilling andhanded it toUncle.Uncle, after not looking at it alittle while, divined its object, and muttering 'Dinner? Ha! Yes, yes, yes!'slowlyvanishedfromthemintothemist.

'Now,Amy,'saidhersister,'comewithme,ifyouarenottootiredtowalktoHarleyStreet,CavendishSquare.'

Theairwithwhichshe threwoff thisdistinguishedaddressand the toss shegave tohernewbonnet (whichwasmoregauzy thanserviceable),madehersisterwonder; however, she expressed her readiness to go toHarley Street,andthither theydirectedtheirsteps.Arrivedat thatgranddestination,Fannysingledoutthehandsomesthouse,andknockingatthedoor,inquiredforMrsMerdle. The footmanwho opened the door, although he had powder on hisheadandwasbackedupby twoother footmen likewisepowdered,notonlyadmittedMrsMerdletobeathome,butaskedFannytowalkin.Fannywalkedin,takinghersisterwithher;andtheywentupstairswithpowdergoingbeforeand powder stopping behind, and were left in a spacious semicirculardrawingroom,oneofseveraldrawingrooms,wheretherewasaparrotontheoutsideofagoldencageholdingonbyitsbeak,withitsscalylegsintheair,andputtingitselfintomanystrangeupsidedownpostures.Thispeculiarityhasbeenobservedinbirdsofquiteanotherfeather,climbingupongoldenwires.

The room was far more splendid than anything Little Dorrit had ever

imagined,andwouldhavebeensplendidandcostlyinanyeyes.Shelookedinamazementathersisterandwouldhaveaskedaquestion,butthatFannywitha warning frown pointed to a curtained doorway of communication withanother room.The curtain shook nextmoment, and a lady, raising itwith aheavilyringedhand,droppeditbehindheragainassheentered.

TheladywasnotyoungandfreshfromthehandofNature,butwasyoungandfreshfromthehandofhermaid.Shehadlargeunfeelinghandsomeeyes,anddark unfeeling handsome hair, and a broad unfeeling handsome bosom, andwasmade themostof in everyparticular.Eitherbecause shehad a cold, orbecauseitsuitedherface,sheworearichwhitefillettiedoverherheadandunderherchin.Andifevertherewereanunfeelinghandsomechinthatlookedasif,forcertain,ithadneverbeen,infamiliarparlance,'chucked'bythehandofman,itwasthechincurbedupsotightandclosebythatlacedbridle.

'MrsMerdle,'saidFanny.'Mysister,ma'am.'

'Iamgladtoseeyoursister,MissDorrit. Ididnotrememberthatyouhadasister.'

'IdidnotmentionthatIhad,'saidFanny.

'Ah!'MrsMerdlecurledthelittlefingerofherlefthandaswhoshouldsay,'Ihavecaughtyou.Iknowyoudidn't!'Allheractionwasusuallywithherlefthandbecauseherhandswerenotapair;and leftbeingmuch thewhiterandplumper of the two. Then she added: 'Sit down,' and composed herselfvoluptuously,inanestofcrimsonandgoldcushions,onanottomanneartheparrot.

'Also professional?' said Mrs Merdle, looking at Little Dorrit through aneyeglass.

Fanny answered No. 'No,' saidMrsMerdle, dropping her glass. 'Has not aprofessionalair.Verypleasant;butnotprofessional.'

'My sister, ma'am,' said Fanny, in whom there was a singular mixture ofdeferenceandhardihood, 'hasbeenaskingme to tellher,asbetweensisters,howIcametohavethehonourofknowingyou.AndasIhadengagedtocalluponyouoncemore, I thought Imight take the libertyofbringingherwithme,whenperhapsyouwouldtellher.Iwishhertoknow,andperhapsyouwilltellher?''Doyouthink,atyoursister'sage'hintedMrsMerdle.

'Sheismucholderthanshelooks,'saidFanny;'almostasoldasIam.'

'Society,' said Mrs Merdle, with another curve of her little finger, 'is sodifficulttoexplaintoyoungpersons(indeedissodifficulttoexplaintomost

persons),thatIamgladtohearthat.

I wish Society was not so arbitrary, I wish it was not so exactingBird, bequiet!'

Theparrothadgivenamostpiercingshriek,asifitsnamewereSocietyanditasserteditsrighttoitsexactions.

'But,' resumed Mrs Merdle, 'we must take it as we find it. We know it ishollow and conventional andworldly and very shocking, but unlesswe areSavages in the Tropical seas (I should have been charmed to be onemyselfmostdelightfullifeandperfectclimate,Iamtold),wemustconsultit.Itisthecommonlot.MrMerdleisamostextensivemerchant,histransactionsare on the vastest scale, his wealth and influence are very great, but evenheBird,bequiet!'

The parrot had shrieked another shriek; and it filled up the sentence soexpressivelythatMrsMerdlewasundernonecessitytoendit.

'SinceyoursisterbegsthatIwouldterminateourpersonalacquaintance,'shebegan again, addressingLittleDorrit, 'by relating the circumstances that aremuch toher credit, I cannotobject to complywithher request, I am sure. Ihaveason(Iwasfirstmarriedextremelyyoung)oftwoorthreeandtwenty.'

Fannysetherlips,andhereyeslookedhalftriumphantlyathersister.

'A son of two or threeandtwenty. He is a little gay, a thing Society isaccustomedtoinyoungmen,andheisveryimpressible.Perhapsheinheritsthat misfortune. I am very impressible myself, by nature. The weakest ofcreaturesmyfeelingsaretouchedinamoment.'

She said all this, and everything else, as coldly as awoman of snow; quiteforgetting the sisters except at odd times, and apparently addressing someabstractionofSociety; forwhosebehoof, too, sheoccasionally arrangedherdress,orthecompositionofherfigureupontheottoman.

'Soheisveryimpressible.NotamisfortuneinournaturalstateIdaresay,butwearenot inanaturalstate.Muchtobelamented,nodoubt,particularlybymyself,whoamachildofnature if Icouldbutshowit;butso it is.SocietysuppressesusanddominatesusBird,bequiet!'Theparrothadbroken intoaviolentfitof laughter,after twistingdiversbarsofhiscagewithhiscrookedbill,andlickingthemwithhisblacktongue.

'It isquiteunnecessarytosaytoapersonofyourgoodsense,widerangeofexperience,andcultivatedfeeling,'saidMrsMerdlefromhernestofcrimsonandgoldandthereputupherglasstorefreshhermemoryastowhomshewas

addressing,'that the stagesometimeshasa fascination foryoungmenof thatclassofcharacter. Insaying thestage, Imean thepeopleon itof the femalesex.Therefore,whenIheardthatmysonwassupposedtobefascinatedbyadancer,IknewwhatthatusuallymeantinSociety,andconfidedinherbeingadancer at the Opera, where young men moving in Society are usuallyfascinated.'

Shepassedherwhitehandsoveroneanother,observantofthesistersnow;andtheringsuponherfingersgratedagainsteachotherwithahardsound.

'Asyour sisterwill tellyou,when I foundwhat the theatrewas Iwasmuchsurprisedandmuchdistressed.ButwhenIfoundthatyoursister,byrejectingmyson'sadvances(Imustadd,inanunexpectedmanner),hadbroughthimtothe point of proposing marriage, my feelings were of the profoundestanguishacute.'Shetracedtheoutlineofherlefteyebrow,andputitright.

'In a distracted condition, which only a mothermoving in Societycan besusceptibleof,Ideterminedtogomyselftothetheatre,andrepresentmystateofmindtothedancer.Imademyselfknowntoyoursister.Ifoundher,tomysurprise, in many respects different frommy expectations; and certainly innone more so, than in meeting me withwhat shall I saya sort of familyassertiononherownpart?'MrsMerdlesmiled.

'I toldyou,ma'am,'saidFanny,withaheighteningcolour, 'thatalthoughyoufoundme in that situation, Iwas so far above the rest, that I consideredmyfamily as good as your son's; and that I had a brother who, knowing thecircumstances,wouldbeofthesameopinion,andwouldnotconsidersuchaconnectionanyhonour.'

'MissDorrit,'saidMrsMerdle,afterfrostilylookingatherthroughherglass,'preciselywhatIwasonthepointoftellingyoursister,inpursuanceofyourrequest.Muchobligedtoyouforrecallingitsoaccuratelyandanticipatingme.I immediately,' addressing Little Dorrit, '(for I am the creature of impulse),tookabraceletfrommyarm,andbeggedyoursistertoletmeclaspitonhers,intokenofthedelightIhadinourbeingabletoapproachthesubjectsofaronacommonfooting.' (Thiswasperfectly true, theladyhavingboughtacheapandshowyarticleonherwaytotheinterview,withageneraleyetobribery.)

'AndI toldyou,MrsMerdle,' saidFanny, 'thatwemightbeunfortunate,butwearenotcommon.'

'Ithink,theverywords,MissDorrit,'assentedMrsMerdle.

'And I told you, Mrs Merdle,' said Fanny, 'that if you spoke to me of thesuperiorityofyour son's standing inSociety, itwasbarelypossible thatyou

rather deceived yourself in your suppositions aboutmy origin; and thatmyfather'sstanding,evenintheSocietyinwhichhenowmoved(whatthatwas,wasbestknowntomyself),waseminentlysuperior,andwasacknowledgedbyeveryone.'

'Quiteaccurate,'rejoinedMrsMerdle.'Amostadmirablememory.'

'Thankyou,ma'am.Perhapsyouwillbesokindastotellmysistertherest.'

'Thereisverylittletotell,'saidMrsMerdle,reviewingthebreadthofbosomwhichseemedessentialtoherhavingroomenoughtobeunfeelingin,'butitistoyoursister'scredit.Ipointedouttoyoursistertheplainstateofthecase;theimpossibility of the Society in which wemoved recognising the Society inwhich she movedthough charming, I have no doubt; the immensedisadvantage at which shewould consequently place the family she had sohighanopinionof,uponwhichweshould findourselvescompelled to lookdown with contempt, and from which (socially speaking) we should feelobligedtorecoilwithabhorrence.Inshort,Imadeanappealtothatlaudableprideinyoursister.'

'Letmysisterknow,ifyouplease,MrsMerdle,'Fannypouted,withatossofhergauzybonnet,'thatIhadalreadyhadthehonouroftellingyoursonthatIwishedtohavenothingwhatevertosaytohim.'

'Well,MissDorrit,'assentedMrsMerdle,'perhapsImighthavementionedthatbefore.IfIdidnotthinkofit,perhapsitwasbecausemymindrevertedtotheapprehensions Ihadat the time thathemightpersevereandyoumighthavesomethingtosaytohim.

I also mentioned to your sisterI again address the nonprofessional MissDorritthatmy sonwould have nothing in the event of such amarriage, andwouldbeanabsolutebeggar.(Imentionthatmerelyasafactwhichispartofthenarrative,andnotassupposingittohaveinfluencedyoursister,exceptintheprudentandlegitimatewayinwhich,constitutedasourartificialsystemis,wemust all be influenced by such considerations.) Finally, after some highwords and high spirit on the part of your sister, we came to the completeunderstandingthattherewasnodanger;andyoursisterwassoobligingastoallow me to present her with a mark or two of my appreciation at mydressmaker's.'

LittleDorritlookedsorry,andglancedatFannywithatroubledface.

'Also,' saidMrsMerdle, 'as to promise to giveme the present pleasure of aclosing interview, and of parting with her on the best of terms. On whichoccasion,' added Mrs Merdle, quitting her nest, and putting something in

Fanny'shand,'MissDorritwillpermitmetosayFarewellwithbestwishesinmyowndullmanner.'

Thesistersroseatthesametime,andtheyallstoodnearthecageoftheparrot,ashetoreataclawfullofbiscuitandspatitout,seemedtomockthemwithapompous dance of his body without moving his feet, and suddenly turnedhimself upside down and trailed himself all over the outside of his goldencage,withtheaidofhiscruelbeakandblacktongue.

'Adieu,Miss Dorrit, with best wishes,' saidMrsMerdle. 'If we could onlycome to aMillennium, or something of that sort, I for onemight have thepleasureofknowinganumberofcharmingandtalentedpersonsfromwhomIamatpresentexcluded.Amoreprimitivestateofsocietywouldbedelicioustome.ThereusedtobeapoemwhenIlearntlessons,somethingaboutLothepoor Indians whose somethingmind! If a few thousand persons moving inSociety, couldonlygoandbe Indians, Iwouldputmynamedowndirectly;butas,movinginSociety,wecan'tbeIndians,unfortunatelyGoodmorning!'

Theycamedownstairswithpowderbeforethemandpowderbehind,theeldersister haughty and the younger sister humbled, and were shut out intounpowderedHarleyStreet,CavendishSquare.

'Well?' saidFanny,when theyhadgonea littlewaywithoutspeaking. 'Haveyounothingtosay,Amy?'

'Oh,Idon'tknowwhattosay!'sheanswered,distressed. 'Youdidn'tlikethisyoungman,Fanny?'

'Likehim?Heisalmostanidiot.'

'Iamsosorrydon'tbehurtbut,sinceyouaskmewhatIhave tosay, Iamsoverysorry,Fanny,thatyousufferedthisladytogiveyouanything.'

'YoulittleFool!'returnedhersister,shakingherwiththesharppullshegaveher arm. 'Have you no spirit at all? But that's just the way! You have noselfrespect, you have no becoming pride, just as you allow yourself to befollowed about by a contemptible little Chivery of a thing,' with thescornfullest emphasis, 'youwould let your family be trodden on, and neverturn.'

'Don'tsaythat,dearFanny.IdowhatIcanforthem.'

'You dowhat you can for them!' repeated Fanny,walking her on very fast.'Would you let a woman like this, whom you could see, if you had anyexperienceofanything, tobeas falseand insolentasawomancanbewouldyouletherputherfootuponyourfamily,andthankherforit?'

'No,Fanny,Iamsure.''Thenmakeherpayforit,youmeanlittlething.Whatelsecanyoumakeherdo?Makeherpayforit,youstupidchild;anddoyourfamilysomecreditwiththemoney!'

They spoke nomore all theway back to the lodgingwhere Fanny and heruncle lived.When they arrived there, they found the oldman practising hisclarionet in the dolefullest manner in a corner of the room. Fanny had acomposite meal to make, of chops, and porter, and tea; and indignantlypretendedtoprepareitforherself,thoughhersisterdidallthatinquietreality.WhenatlastFannysatdowntoeatanddrink,shethrewthetableimplementsaboutandwasangrywithherbread,muchasherfatherhadbeenlastnight.

'If you despiseme,' she said, bursting into vehement tears, 'because I am adancer,whydidyouputmeinthewayofbeingone?

Itwasyourdoing.YouwouldhavemestoopaslowasthegroundbeforethisMrsMerdle,andlethersaywhatshelikedanddowhatsheliked,andholdusallincontempt,andtellmesotomyface.BecauseIamadancer!'

'OFanny!'

'AndTip,too,poorfellow.Sheistodisparagehimjustasmuchasshelikes,withoutanycheckIsupposebecausehehasbeeninthelaw,andthedocks,anddifferentthings.Why,itwasyourdoing,Amy.Youmightatleastapproveofhisbeingdefended.'

All this time the uncle was dolefully blowing his clarionet in the corner,sometimes taking it an inch or so from his mouth for a moment while hestopped to gaze at them, with a vague impression that somebody had saidsomething.

'And your father, your poor father, Amy. Because he is not free to showhimselfand tospeak forhimself,youwould let suchpeople insulthimwithimpunity.Ifyoudon'tfeelforyourselfbecauseyougoouttowork,youmightatleastfeelforhim,Ishouldthink,knowingwhathehasundergonesolong.'

PoorLittleDorritfelttheinjusticeofthistauntrathersharply.

Theremembranceoflastnightaddedabarbedpointtoit.Shesaidnothinginreply,butturnedherchairfromthetabletowardsthefire.Uncle,aftermakingonemorepause,blewadismalwailandwentonagain.

Fannywaspassionatewith the teacupsand thebreadas longasherpassionlasted,andthenprotestedthatshewasthewretchedestgirl intheworld,andshewishedshewasdead.After that,hercryingbecameremorseful, andshe

gotupandputherarms roundher sister.LittleDorrit tried tostopher fromsayinganything,but sheanswered that shewould, shemust!Thereuponshesaidagain,andagain,'Ibegyourpardon,Amy,'and'Forgiveme,Amy,'almostaspassionatelyasshehadsaidwhatsheregretted.

'But indeed, indeed, Amy,' she resumed when they were seated in sisterlyaccordsidebyside,'IhopeandIthinkyouwouldhaveseenthisdifferently,ifyouhadknownalittlemoreofSociety.'

'PerhapsImight,Fanny,'saidthemildLittleDorrit.

'Yousee,whileyouhavebeendomesticand resignedlyshutup there,Amy,'pursuedhersister,graduallybeginningtopatronise,'Ihavebeenout,movingmore in Society, andmay have been getting proud and spiritedmore than Ioughttobe,perhaps?'

LittleDorritanswered'Yes.Oyes!'

'Andwhileyouhavebeen thinkingof thedinneror the clothes, Imayhavebeenthinking,youknow,ofthefamily.Now,mayitnotbeso,Amy?'

LittleDorritagainnodded'Yes,'withamorecheerfulfacethanheart.

'Especiallyasweknow,'saidFanny,'thattherecertainlyisatoneintheplacetowhichyouhavebeensotrue,whichdoesbelongtoit,andwhichdoesmakeitdifferent fromotheraspectsofSociety.Sokissmeonceagain,Amydear,and we will agree that we may both be right, and that you are a tranquil,domestic,homeloving,goodgirl.'

Theclarionethadbeen lamentingmostpatheticallyduring thisdialogue,butwascutshortnowbyFanny'sannouncementthatitwastimetogo;whichsheconveyed to her uncle by shutting up his scrap of music, and taking theclarionetoutofhismouth.

Little Dorrit parted from them at the door, and hastened back to theMarshalsea. It fell dark there sooner than elsewhere, and going into it thateveningwas like going into a deep trench. The shadow of thewallwas onevery object. Not least upon the figure in the old grey gown and the blackvelvet cap, as it turned towards her when she opened the door of the dimroom.

'Whynotuponmetoo!'thoughtLittleDorrit,withthedoorYetinherhand.'ItwasnotunreasonableinFanny.'

CHAPTER21.

MrMerdle'sComplaint

Upon that establishment of state, theMerdle establishment inHarleyStreet,CavendishSquare, therewas the shadowofnomore commonwall than thefrontsofotherestablishmentsofstateontheoppositesideofthestreet.LikeunexceptionableSociety, theopposing rowsofhouses inHarleyStreetwereverygrimwithoneanother.Indeed,themansionsandtheirinhabitantsweresomuchalikeinthatrespect,thatthepeoplewereoftentobefounddrawnuponoppositesidesofdinnertables,intheshadeoftheirownloftiness,staringattheothersideofthewaywiththedullnessofthehouses.

Everybodyknowshowlikethestreetthetwodinnerrowsofpeoplewhotaketheirstandbythestreetwillbe.Theexpressionlessuniformtwentyhouses,alltobeknockedatandrungatinthesameform,allapproachablebythesamedull steps, all fended off by the same pattern of railing, all with the sameimpracticable fireescapes, the same inconvenient fixtures in their heads, andeverythingwithoutexceptiontobetakenatahighvaluationwhohasnotdinedwiththese?Thehousesodrearilyoutofrepair,theoccasionalbowwindow,thestuccoed house, the newlyfronted house, the corner house with nothing butangular rooms, the house with the blinds always down, the house with thehatchmentalwaysup,thehousewherethecollectorhascalledforonequarterof an Idea, and found nobody at homewho has not dined with these? Thehousethatnobodywilltake,andistobehadabargainwhodoesnotknowher?Theshowyhouse thatwas takenfor lifeby thedisappointedgentleman,andwhich does not suit him at allwho is unacquainted with that hauntedhabitation?

HarleyStreet,CavendishSquare,wasmorethanawareofMrandMrsMerdle.IntruderstherewereinHarleyStreet,ofwhomitwasnotaware;butMrandMrsMerdleitdelightedtohonour.SocietywasawareofMrandMrsMerdle.Societyhadsaid'Letuslicensethem;letusknowthem.'

Mr Merdle was immensely rich; a man of prodigious enterprise; a Midaswithout the ears, who turned all he touched to gold. He was in everythinggood, frombanking tobuilding.Hewas inParliament,ofcourse.Hewas intheCity,necessarily.HewasChairmanofthis,Trusteeofthat,Presidentoftheother.Theweightiestofmenhadsaidtoprojectors,'Now,whatnamehaveyougot?Have you gotMerdle?'And, the reply being in the negative, had said,'ThenIwon'tlookatyou.'

This great and fortunate man had provided that extensive bosom which

requiredsomuchroomtobeunfeelingenoughin,withanestofcrimsonandgoldsomefifteenyearsbefore.Itwasnotabosomtoreposeupon,butitwasacapital bosom to hang jewels upon. Mr Merdle wanted something to hangjewelsupon,andheboughtitforthepurpose.StorrandMortimermighthavemarriedonthesamespeculation.

Like all his other speculations, it was sound and successful. The jewelsshowed to the richest advantage. The bosom moving in Society with thejewelsdisplayeduponit,attractedgeneraladmiration.Societyapproving,MrMerdlewassatisfied.Hewasthemostdisinterestedofmen,dideverythingforSociety, and got as little for himself out of all his gain and care, as amanmight.

That is to say, itmaybe supposed thathegotallhewanted,otherwisewithunlimitedwealth hewould have got it. But his desirewas to the utmost tosatisfy Society (whatever that was), and take up all its drafts upon him fortribute.Hedidnotshineincompany;hehadnotverymuchtosayforhimself;he was a reserved man, with a broad, overhanging, watchful head, thatparticularkindofdullredcolourinhischeekswhichisratherstalethanfresh,andasomewhatuneasyexpressionabouthiscoatcuffs,asiftheywereinhisconfidence,andhadreasonsforbeinganxioustohidehishands.Inthelittlehesaid,hewasapleasantmanenough;plain,emphaticaboutpublicandprivateconfidence,andtenaciousoftheutmostdeferencebeingshownbyeveryone,inallthings,toSociety.InthissameSociety(ifthatwereitwhichcametohisdinners, and toMrsMerdle's receptions and concerts), he hardly seemed toenjoy himself much, and wasmostly to be found against walls and behinddoors.Alsowhen hewent out to it, instead of its coming home to him, heseemedalittlefatigued,anduponthewholerathermoredisposedforbed;buthewasalwayscultivatingitnevertheless,andalwaysmovinginitandalwayslayingoutmoneyonitwiththegreatestliberality.

Mrs Merdle's first husband had been a colonel, under whose auspices thebosom had entered into competitionwith the snows ofNorthAmerica, andhadcomeoffatlittledisadvantageinpointofwhiteness,andatnoneinpointof coldness. The colonel's son was Mrs Merdle's only child. He was of achuckleheaded,highshoulderedmake,withageneralappearanceofbeing,notsomuchayoungmanasaswelledboy.Hehadgivensofewsignsofreason,thatabywordwentamonghiscompanionsthathisbrainhadbeenfrozenupinamightyfrostwhichprevailedatStjohn's,NewBrunswick,attheperiodofhis birth there, and had never thawed from that hour. Another bywordrepresentedhimashaving inhis infancy, through thenegligenceof anurse,fallenoutofahighwindowonhishead,whichhadbeenheardbyresponsiblewitnesses to crack. It is probable that both these representationswere of ex

postfactoorigin;theyounggentleman(whoseexpressivenamewasSparkler)beingmonomaniacalinofferingmarriagetoallmannerofundesirableyoungladies,andinremarkingofeverysuccessiveyoungladytowhomhetenderedamatrimonialproposal thatshewas 'adoosedfinegalwelleducated toowithnobiggoddnonsenseabouther.'

A soninlawwith these limited talents,might havebeen a clogupon anotherman; but Mr Merdle did not want a soninlaw for himself; he wanted asoninlawforSociety.MrSparklerhavingbeenintheGuards,andbeinginthehabitoffrequentingalltheraces,andallthelounges,andalltheparties,andbeingwellknown,Societywassatisfiedwith itssoninlaw.ThishappyresultMrMerdlewouldhaveconsideredwellattained,thoughMrSparklerhadbeenamoreexpensivearticle.AndhedidnotgetMrSparklerbyanymeanscheapfor Society, even as it was. Therewas a dinner giving in theHarley Streetestablishment,whileLittleDorritwasstitchingatherfather'snewshirtsbyhisside thatnight; and thereweremagnates from theCourt andmagnates fromthe City, magnates from the Commons and magnates from the Lords,magnates from the bench and magnates from the bar, Bishop magnates,Treasury magnates, Horse Guard magnates, Admiralty magnates,all themagnatesthatkeepusgoing,andsometimestripusup.

'Iamtold,'saidBishopmagnate toHorseGuards, 'thatMrMerdlehasmadeanotherenormoushit.Theysayahundredthousandpounds.'

HorseGuardshadheardtwo.

Treasuryhadheardthree.

Bar,handlinghispersuasivedoubleeyeglass,wasbynomeansclearbutthatitmight be four. It was one of those happy strokes of calculation andcombination, the result of which it was difficult to estimate. It was one ofthose instances of a comprehensive grasp, associatedwith habitual luck andcharacteristic boldness, ofwhich an agepresentedus but few.But herewasBrother Bellows, who had been in the great Bank case, and who couldprobablytellusmore.WhatdidBrotherBellowsputthisnewsuccessat?

BrotherBellowswas on hisway tomake his bow to the bosom, and couldonlytelltheminpassingthathehadhearditstated,withgreatappearanceoftruth,asbeingworth,fromfirsttolast,halfamillionofmoney.

AdmiraltysaidMrMerdlewasawonderfulman,Treasurysaidhewasanewpower in the country, and would be able to buy up the whole House ofCommons.Bishopsaidhewasglad to think that thiswealth flowed into thecoffersofagentlemanwhowasalwaysdisposedtomaintainthebestinterestsofSociety.

MrMerdlehimselfwasusuallylateontheseoccasions,asamanstilldetainedintheclutchofgiantenterpriseswhenothermenhadshakenofftheirdwarfsfor theday.On thisoccasion,hewas the lastarrival.TreasurysaidMerdle'sworkpunishedhimalittle.Bishopsaidhewasgladtothinkthat thiswealthflowedintothecoffersofagentlemanwhoaccepteditwithmeekness.

Powder!TherewassomuchPowder inwaiting, that it flavoured thedinner.Pulverousparticlesgotintothedishes,andSociety'smeatshadaseasoningoffirstrate footmen. Mr Merdle took down a countess who was secludedsomewhere in the core of an immense dress, to which she was in theproportionof theheart to theovergrowncabbage. Ifso lowasimilemaybeadmitted,thedresswentdownthestaircaselikearichlybrocadedJackintheGreen,andnobodyknewwhatsortofsmallpersoncarriedit.

Societyhadeverything it couldwant, andcouldnotwant, fordinner. It hadeverythingtolookat,andeverythingtoeat,andeverythingtodrink.Itistobehoped it enjoyed itself; forMrMerdle'sown shareof the repastmighthavebeen paid for with eighteenpence. Mrs Merdle was magnificent. The chiefbutlerwas the nextmagnificent institution of the day.Hewas the stateliestmaninthecompany.Hedidnothing,buthelookedonasfewothermencouldhave done.HewasMrMerdle's last gift to Society.MrMerdle didn'twanthim,andwasputoutofcountenancewhenthegreatcreature lookedathim;butinappeasableSocietywouldhavehimandhadgothim.

The invisible countess carried out the Green at the usual stage of theentertainment, and the file of beautywas closed up by the bosom.Treasurysaid,Juno.Bishopsaid,Judith.

BarfellintodiscussionwithHorseGuardsconcerningcourtsmartial.BrothersBellowsandBenchstruckin.Othermagnatespairedoff.MrMerdlesatsilent,andlookedatthetablecloth.Sometimesamagnateaddressedhim,toturnthestreamofhisownparticulardiscussion towardshim;butMrMerdle seldomgavemuchattentiontoit,ordidmorethanrousehimselffromhiscalculationsandpassthewine.

Whentheyrose,somanyofthemagnateshadsomethingtosaytoMrMerdleindividuallythatheheldlittleleveesbythesideboard,andcheckedthemoffastheywentoutatthedoor.

TreasuryhopedhemightventuretocongratulateoneofEngland'sworldfamedcapitalists andmerchantprinces (hehad turned that original sentiment in thehouseafewtimes,anditcameeasytohim)onanewachievement.Toextendthe triumphs of suchmenwas to extend the triumphs and resources of thenation; and Treasury felthe gave Mr Merdle to understandpatriotic on the

subject.

'Thank you, my lord,' said Mr Merdle; 'thank you. I accept yourcongratulationswithpride,andIamgladyouapprove.'

'Why, I don't unreservedly approve, my dearMrMerdle. Because,' smilingTreasuryturnedhimbythearmtowardsthesideboardandspokebanteringly,'itnevercanbeworthyourwhiletocomeamongusandhelpus.'

MrMerdlefelthonouredbythe

'No,no,'saidTreasury,'thatisnotthelightinwhichonesodistinguishedforpractical knowledge and great foresight, can be expected to regard it. Ifweshould ever be happily enabled, by accidentally possessing the control overcircumstances,toproposetoonesoeminenttotocomeamongus,andgiveustheweightofhisinfluence,knowledge,andcharacter,wecouldonlyproposeittohimasaduty.Infact,asadutythatheowedtoSociety.'

MrMerdleintimatedthatSocietywastheappleofhiseye,andthatitsclaimswere paramount to every other consideration. Treasury moved on, and Barcame up. Bar, with his little insinuating jury droop, and fingering hispersuasivedoubleeyeglass,hopedhemightbeexcusedifhementionedtooneofthegreatestconvertersoftherootofallevilintotherootofallgood,whohad for a long time reflected a shining lustre on the annals even of ourcommercialcountryifhementioned,disinterestedly,andas,whatwelawyerscalled in our pedanticway, amicus curiae, a fact that had comeby accidentwithinhis knowledge.Hehadbeen required to lookover the title of a veryconsiderableestateinoneoftheeasterncountieslying,infact,forMrMerdleknewwelawyerslovedtobeparticular,onthebordersoftwooftheeasterncounties. Now, the title was perfectly sound, and the estate was to bepurchasedbyonewhohadthecommandofMoney(jurydroopandpersuasiveeyeglass), on remarkably advantageous terms. This had come to Bar'sknowledgeonlythatday,andithadoccurredtohim,'Ishallhavethehonourof dining with my esteemed friend Mr Merdle this evening, and, strictlybetween ourselves, I will mention the opportunity.' Such a purchase wouldinvolve not only a great legitimate political influence, but some halfdozenchurchpresentationsofconsiderableannualvalue.Now,thatMrMerdlewasalreadyatnolosstodiscovermeansofoccupyingevenhiscapital,andoffullyemployingevenhisactiveandvigorousintellect,Barwellknew:buthewouldventure tosuggest that thequestionarose inhismind,whetheronewhohaddeservedlygainedsohighapositionandsoEuropeanareputationdidnotoweitwewouldnotsaytohimself,butwewouldsaytoSociety,topossesshimselfofsuchinfluencesasthese;andtoexercisethemwewouldnotsayforhisown,orforhisparty's,butwewouldsayforSociety'sbenefit.

MrMerdle again expressed himself aswholly devoted to that object of hisconstant consideration, and Bar took his persuasive eyeglass up the grandstaircase. Bishop then came undesignedly sidling in the direction of thesideboard.

Surelythegoodsofthisworld,itoccurredinanaccidentalwaytoBishoptoremark, could scarcely be directed into happier channels than when theyaccumulatedunderthemagictouchofthewiseandsagacious,who,whiletheyknew the justvalueof riches (Bishop triedhere to lookas ifhewere ratherpoor himself), were aware of their importance, judiciously governed andrightlydistributed,tothewelfareofourbrethrenatlarge.

MrMerdlewithhumilityexpressedhisconvictionthatBishopcouldn'tmeanhim,andwithinconsistencyexpressedhishighgratificationinBishop'sgoodopinion.

Bishop thenjauntily stepping out a little with his wellshaped right leg, asthoughhesaidtoMrMerdle'don'tmindtheapron;amereform!'putthiscasetohisgoodfriend:

Whether it had occurred to his good friend, that Society might notunreasonablyhope thatonesoblest inhisundertakings,andwhoseexampleon his pedestal was so influential with it, would shed a littlemoney in thedirectionofamissionorsotoAfrica?

MrMerdlesignifyingthattheideashouldhavehisbestattention,Bishopputanothercase:

WhetherhisgoodfriendhadatallinterestedhimselfintheproceedingsofourCombined Additional Endowed Dignitaries Committee, and whether it hadoccurredtohimthat toshedalittlemoneyinthatdirectionmightbeagreatconceptionfinelyexecuted?

Mr Merdle made a similar reply, and Bishop explained his reason forinquiring.

Society looked to suchmenashisgood friend todosuch things. ItwasnotthatHElookedtothem,butthatSocietylookedtothem.

Just as it was not Our Committee who wanted the Additional EndowedDignitaries, but it was Society that was in a state of the most agonisinguneasinessofminduntilitgotthem.Hebeggedtoassurehisgoodfriendthathewasextremelysensibleofhisgoodfriend'sregardonalloccasionsforthebest interests of Society; and he considered that he was at once consultingthose interests and expressing the feeling of Society, when he wished him

continued prosperity, continued increase of riches, and continued things ingeneral.

Bishopthenbetookhimselfupstairs,andtheothermagnatesgraduallyfloatedupafterhimuntiltherewasnooneleftbelowbutMrMerdle.Thatgentleman,afterlookingatthetableclothuntilthesoulofthechiefbutlerglowedwithanobleresentment,wentslowlyupaftertherest,andbecameofnoaccountinthestreamofpeopleonthegrandstaircase.MrsMerdlewasathome,thebestof the jewels were hung out to be seen, Society got what it came for, MrMerdledranktwopennyworthofteainacornerandgotmorethanhewanted.

Amongtheeveningmagnateswasafamousphysician,whokneweverybody,andwhomeverybodyknew.Onenteringatthedoor,hecameuponMrMerdledrinkinghisteainacorner,andtouchedhimonthearm.

MrMerdlestarted.'Oh!It'syou!'

'Anybettertoday?'

'No,'saidMrMerdle,'Iamnobetter.'

'Apity I didn't seeyou thismorning.Pray come tome tomorrow,or letmecometoyou.'

'Well!' he replied. 'Iwill come tomorrowas Idriveby.'Bar andBishophadbothbeenbystandersduringthisshortdialogue,andasMrMerdlewassweptawaybythecrowd,theymadetheirremarksuponittothePhysician.Barsaid,therewasacertainpointofmentalstrainbeyondwhichnomancouldgo;thatthepointvariedwithvarioustexturesofbrainandpeculiaritiesofconstitution,as he had had occasion to notice in several of his learned brothers; but thepoint of endurance passed by a line's breadth, depression and dyspepsiaensued.Not to intrudeon the sacredmysteries ofmedicine, he took it, now(with the jury droop and persuasive eyeglass), that this wasMerdle's case?Bishopsaid thatwhenhewasayoungman,andhadfallenforabriefspaceintothehabitofwritingsermonsonSaturdays,ahabitwhichallyoungsonsofthe church should sedulously avoid, he had frequently been sensible of adepression,arisingashesupposedfromanovertaxedintellect,uponwhichtheyolkofanewlaidegg,beatenupbythegoodwomaninwhosehouseheatthattimelodged,withaglassofsoundsherry,nutmeg,andpowderedsugaractedlike a charm. Without presuming to offer so simple a remedy to theconsideration of so profound a professor of the great healing art, he wouldventure to inquirewhether the strain,beingbywayof intricate calculations,thespiritsmightnot(humanlyspeaking)berestoredtotheirtonebyagentleandyetgenerousstimulant?

'Yes,' said thephysician, 'yes,youareboth right.But Imayaswell tellyouthatIcanfindnothingthematterwithMrMerdle.Hehastheconstitutionofarhinoceros,thedigestionofanostrich,andtheconcentrationofanoyster.Asto nerves,MrMerdle is of a cool temperament, and not a sensitiveman: isabout as invulnerable, I should say, as Achilles. How such a man shouldsuppose himself unwell without reason, you may think strange. But I havefoundnothing thematterwithhim.Hemayhavesomedeepseatedreconditecomplaint.Ican'tsay.Ionlysay,thatatpresentIhavenotfounditout.'

TherewasnoshadowofMrMerdle'scomplaintonthebosomnowdisplayingpreciousstonesinrivalrywithmanysimilarsuperbjewelstands;therewasnoshadow of Mr Merdle's complaint on young Sparkler hovering about therooms,monomaniacallyseekinganysufficientlyineligibleyoungladywithnononsense about her; therewas no shadow ofMrMerdle's complaint on theBarnaclesandStiltstalkings,ofwhomwholecolonieswerepresent;oronanyof thecompany.Evenonhimself, itsshadowwasfaintenoughashemovedaboutamongthethrong,receivinghomage.

MrMerdle'scomplaint.Societyandhehadsomuchtodowithoneanotherinall thingselse, that it ishard to imaginehis complaint, ifhehadone,beingsolelyhisownaffair.Hadhethatdeepseatedreconditecomplaint,anddidanydoctor find it out?Patience, in themeantime, the shadowof theMarshalseawallwasarealdarkeninginfluence,andcouldbeseenontheDorritFamilyatanystageofthesun'scourse.

CHAPTER22.

APuzzle

MrClennamdidnot increase in favourwith theFatherof theMarshalsea inthe ratio of his increasing visits. His obtuseness on the great Testimonialquestionwasnot calculated toawakenadmiration in thepaternalbreast,buthad rather a tendency to give offence in that sensitive quarter, and to beregarded as a positive shortcoming in point of gentlemanly feeling. Animpressionofdisappointment,occasionedbythediscoverythatMrClennamscarcelypossessedthatdelicacyforwhich,intheconfidenceofhisnature,hehad been inclined to give him credit, began to darken the fatherlymind inconnectionwiththatgentleman.Thefatherwentsofarastosay,inhisprivatefamilycircle,thathefearedMrClennamwasnotamanofhighinstincts.Hewashappy,heobserved,inhispubliccapacityasleaderandrepresentativeof

theCollege,toreceiveMrClennamwhenhecalledtopayhisrespects;buthedidn'tfindthathegotonwithhimpersonally.Thereappearedtobesomething(hedidn'tknowwhatitwas)wantinginhim.Howbeit,thefatherdidnotfailinanyoutwardshowofpoliteness,but,onthecontrary,honouredhimwithmuchattention; perhaps cherishing the hope that, although not a man of asufficiently brilliant and spontaneous turn of mind to repeat his formertestimonial unsolicited, itmight still bewithin the compass of his nature tobear the part of a responsive gentleman, in any correspondence that waytending.

In the threefold capacity, of the gentleman from outside who had beenaccidentally locked inon thenightofhis first appearance, of thegentlemanfromoutsidewhohadinquiredintotheaffairsoftheFatheroftheMarshalseawiththestupendousideaofgettinghimout,andofthegentlemanfromoutsidewhotookaninterestinthechildoftheMarshalsea,Clennamsoonbecameavisitorofmark.

HewasnotsurprisedbytheattentionshereceivedfromMrChiverywhenthatofficerwason the lock, for hemade little distinctionbetweenMrChivery'spoliteness and that of the other turnkeys. Itwas on one particular afternoonthat Mr Chivery surprised him all at once, and stood forth from hiscompanionsinboldrelief.

MrChivery,bysomeartfulexerciseofhispowerofclearingtheLodge,hadcontrivedtoriditofallsaunteringCollegians;sothatClennam,comingoutoftheprison,shouldfindhimondutyalone.

'(Private) I ask your pardon, sir,' said Mr Chivery in a secret manner; 'butwhichwaymightyoubegoing?'

'IamgoingovertheBridge.'HesawinMrChivery,withsomeastonishment,quiteanAllegoryofSilence,ashestoodwithhiskeyonhislips.

'(Private)Iaskyourpardonagain,'saidMrChivery, 'butcouldyougoroundbyHorsemongerLane?Couldyoubyanymeansfindtimeto lookinat thataddress?' handing him a little card, printed for circulation among theconnection of Chivery and Co., Tobacconists, Importers of pure HavannahCigars,BengalCheroots, and fineflavouredCubas,Dealers inFancySnuffs,&C.&C.

'(Private)Itan'ttobaccobusiness,'saidMrChivery.'Thetruthis,it'smywife.She'swishful tosayaword toyou,sir,uponapoint respectingyes,' saidMrChivery, answering Clennam's look of apprehensionwith a nod, 'respectingher.'

'Iwillmakeapointofseeingyourwifedirectly.'

'Thank you, sir. Much obliged. It an't above ten minutes out of your way.Please to ask for Mrs Chivery!' These instructions, Mr Chivery, who hadalready lethimout, cautiouslycalled througha little slide in theouterdoor,whichhecoulddrawbackfromwithin for the inspectionofvisitorswhen itpleasedhim.

ArthurClennam,withthecardinhishand,betookhimselftotheaddresssetforth upon it, and speedily arrived there. Itwas a very small establishment,whereinadecentwomansatbehindthecounterworkingatherneedle.Littlejarsoftobacco,littleboxesofcigars,alittleassortmentofpipes,alittlejarortwo of snuff, and a little instrument like a shoeing horn for serving it out,composedtheretailstockintrade.

Arthur mentioned his name, and his having promised to call, on thesolicitation of Mr Chivery. About something relating to Miss Dorrit, hebelieved. Mrs Chivery at once laid aside her work, rose up from her seatbehindthecounter,anddeploringlyshookherhead.

'Youmayseehimnow,'saidshe,'ifyou'llcondescendtotakeapeep.'

With these mysterious words, she preceded the visitor into a little parlourbehind the shop, with a little window in it commanding a very little dullbackyard.Inthisyardawashofsheetsandtableclothstried(invain,forwantofair) toget itselfdriedona lineor two;andamong thoseflappingarticleswassittinginachair,likethelastmarinerleftaliveonthedeckofadampshipwithoutthepoweroffurlingthesails,alittlewoebegoneyoungman.

'OurJohn,'saidMrsChivery.

Nottobedeficientininterest,Clennamaskedwhathemightbedoingthere?

'It'stheonlychangehetakes,'saidMrsChivery,shakingherheadafresh.'Hewon't go out, even in the backyard,when there's no linen; butwhen there'slinen to keep the neighbours' eyes off, he'll sit there, hours. Hours he will.Sayshefeelsasifitwasgroves!'MrsChiveryshookherheadagain,putherapron in a motherly way to her eyes, and reconducted her visitor into theregionsofthebusiness.

'Pleasetotakeaseat,sir,'saidMrsChivery.'MissDorritisthematterwithOurJohn,sir;he'sabreakinghisheartforher,andIwouldwishtotakethelibertytoaskhowit'stobemadegoodtohisparentswhenbust?'

Mrs Chivery, who was a comfortablelooking womanmuch respected aboutHorsemongerLaneforher feelingsandherconversation,uttered thisspeech

with fell composure, and immediately afterwards began again to shake herheadanddryhereyes.

'Sir,' said she in continuation, 'you are acquaintedwith the family, andhaveinterestedyourselfwiththefamily,andareinfluentialwiththefamily.Ifyoucan promote views calculated tomake two young people happy, letme, forOurjohn'ssake,andforboththeirsakes,imploreyousotodo!'

'Ihavebeensohabituated,'returnedArthur,ataloss, 'duringtheshorttimeIhaveknownher,toconsiderLittleIhavebeensohabituatedtoconsiderMissDorritinalightaltogetherremovedfromthatinwhichyoupresenthertome,thatyouquitetakemebysurprise.Doessheknowyourson?'

'Broughtuptogether,sir,'saidMrsChivery.'Playedtogether.'

'Doessheknowyoursonasheradmirer?'

'Oh! bless you, sir,' saidMrsChivery,with a sort of triumphant shiver, 'shenever could have seen him on a Sundaywithout knowing hewas that. Hiscanealonewouldhave told it longago, ifnothingelsehad.YoungmenlikeJohndon'ttaketoivoryhandsapinting,fornothing.HowdidIfirstknowitmyself?Similarly.'

'PerhapsMissDorritmaynotbesoreadyasyou,yousee.'

'Thensheknowsit,sir,'saidMrsChivery,'bywordofmouth.'

'Areyousure?'

'Sir,'saidMrsChivery,'sureandcertainasinthishouseIam.Iseemysongooutwithmyowneyeswhen in thishouse Iwas, and I seemy soncome inwithmy own eyes when in this house I was, and I know he done it!'MrsChivery derived a surprising force of emphasis from the foregoingcircumstantialityandrepetition.

'MayIaskyouhowhecametofallintothedespondingstatewhichcausesyousomuchuneasiness?'

'That,'saidMrsChivery,'tookplaceonthatsamedaywhentothishouseIseethatJohnwiththeseeyesreturn.Neverbeenhimselfinthishousesince.Neverwaslikewhathehasbeensince,notfromthehourwhentothishousesevenyearagomeandhisfather,astenantsbythequarter,came!'AneffectinthenatureofanaffidavitwasgainedfromthisspeechbyMrsChivery'speculiarpowerofconstruction. 'May Iventure to inquirewhat isyourversionof thematter?'

'Youmay,'saidMrsChivery,'andIwillgiveittoyouinhonourandinwordastrue as in this shop I stand.Our Johnhas everyone's goodword and everyone'sgoodwish.Heplayedwithherasachildwheninthatyardachildsheplayed.Hehasknownhereversince.HewentoutupontheSundayafternoonwhen in this very parlour he had dined, and met her, with appointment orwithoutappointment;which,Idonotpretendtosay.Hemadehisoffertoher.Herbrotherandsisterishighintheirviews,andagainstOurJohn.Herfatheris all for himself in his views and against sharing herwith any one.Underwhich circumstances she has answeredOur John, "No, John, I cannot haveyou,Icannothaveanyhusband,itisnotmyintentionsevertobecomeawife,it ismy intentions tobealwaysa sacrifice, farewell, findanotherworthyofyou,andforgetme!"Thisisthewayinwhichsheisdoomedtobeaconstantslaveto themthatarenotworthythataconstantslavesheunto themshouldbe.This is theway inwhichOur John has come to find no pleasure but intakingcoldamongthelinen,andinshowinginthatyard,asinthatyardIhavemyselfshownyou,abrokendownruinthatgoeshometohismother'sheart!'Herethegoodwomanpointedtothelittlewindow,whencehersonmightbeseensittingdisconsolateinthetunelessgroves;andagainshookherheadandwiped her eyes, and besought him, for the united sakes of both the youngpeople, to exercise his influence towards the bright reversal of these dismalevents.

Shewassoconfident inherexpositionof thecase,anditwassoundeniablyfoundedoncorrectpremisesinsofarastherelativepositionsofLittleDorritandher familywere concerned, thatClennamcouldnot feel positiveon theother side. He had come to attach to Little Dorrit an interest so peculiaraninterestthatremovedherfrom,whileitgrewoutof,thecommonandcoarsethings surrounding herthat he found it disappointing, disagreeable, almostpainful,tosupposeherinlovewithyoungMrChiveryinthebackyard,oranysuchperson.Ontheotherhand,hereasonedwithhimselfthatshewasjustasgoodand just as true in lovewithhim, asnot in lovewithhim; and that tomakeakindofdomesticatedfairyofher,onthepenaltyofisolationatheartfrom theonlypeople sheknew,wouldbebut aweaknessofhisown fancy,and not a kind one. Still, her youthful and ethereal appearance, her timidmanner,thecharmofhersensitivevoiceandeyes,theverymanyrespectsinwhich she had interested him out of her own individuality, and the strongdifferencebetweenherselfandthoseabouther,werenotinunison,andweredeterminednottobeinunison,withthisnewlypresentedidea.

HetoldtheworthyMrsChivery,afterturningthesethingsoverinhismindhedidthat,indeed,whileshewasyetspeakingthathemightbereliedupontodohisutmostatalltimestopromotethehappinessofMissDorrit,andtofurtherthe wishes of her heart if it were in his power to do so, and if he could

discover what they were. At the same time he cautioned her againstassumptions and appearances; enjoined strict silence and secrecy, lest MissDorritshouldbemadeunhappy;andparticularlyadvisedhertoendeavourtowinherson'sconfidenceandsotomakequitesureofthestateofthecase.MrsChiveryconsidered the latterprecautionsuperfluous,but said shewould try.Sheshookherheadas ifshehadnotderivedall thecomfortshehadfondlyexpectedfromthisinterview,butthankedhimneverthelessforthetroublehehadkindlytaken.Theythenpartedgoodfriends,andArthurwalkedaway.

The crowd in the street jostling the crowd in hismind, and the two crowdsmakingaconfusion,heavoidedLondonBridge,andturnedoffinthequieterdirectionof the IronBridge.Hehad scarcely set foot upon it,whenhe sawLittleDorritwalkingonbeforehim.Itwasapleasantday,withalightbreezeblowing,andsheseemedtohavethatminutecomethereforair.Hehadleftherinherfather'sroomwithinanhour.

It was a timely chance, favourable to his wish of observing her face andmanner when no one else was by. He quickened his pace; but before hereachedher,sheturnedherhead.

'HaveIstartledyou?'heasked.

'IthoughtIknewthestep,'sheanswered,hesitating.

'Anddidyouknowit,LittleDorrit?Youcouldhardlyhaveexpectedmine.'

'Ididnotexpectany.ButwhenIheardastep,Ithoughtitsoundedlikeyours.'

'Areyougoingfurther?'

'No,sir,Iamonlywalkingherforalittlechange.'

Theywalkedtogether,andsherecoveredherconfidingmannerwithhim,andlookedupinhisfaceasshesaid,afterglancingaround:

'It is so strange. Perhaps you can hardly understand it. I sometimes have asensationasifitwasalmostunfeelingtowalkhere.'

'Unfeeling?'

'Toseetheriver,andsomuchsky,andsomanyobjects,andsuchchangeandmotion.Thentogoback,youknow,andfindhiminthesamecrampedplace.'

'Ahyes!Butgoingback,youmustrememberthatyoutakewithyouthespiritandinfluenceofsuchthingstocheerhim.'

'DoI?IhopeImay!Iamafraidyoufancytoomuch,sir,andmakemeouttoo

powerful. If you were in prison, could I bring such comfort to you?' 'Yes,LittleDorrit,Iamsureofit.'

Hegatheredfromatremoronherlip,andapassingshadowofgreatagitationonher face, thathermindwaswithher father.Heremainedsilent fora fewmoments,thatshemightregainhercomposure.TheLittleDorrit,tremblingonhisarm,waslessinunisonthaneverwithMrsChivery'stheory,andyetwasnot irreconcilablewith a new fancywhich sprung upwithin him, that theremight be some one else in the hopelessnewer fancy stillin the hopelessunattainabledistance.

Theyturned,andClennamsaid,HerewasMaggycoming!LittleDorritlookedup, surprised, and they confronted Maggy, who brought herself at sight ofthemtoadeadstop.Shehadbeentrottingalong,sopreoccupiedandbusythatshe had not recognised them until they turned upon her. Shewas now in amomentsoconsciencestrickenthatherverybasketpartookofthechange.

'Maggy,youpromisedmetostopnearfather.'

'SoIwould,LittleMother,onlyhewouldn'tletme.Ifhetakesandsendsmeout Imustgo. Ifhe takesandsays, "Maggy,youhurryawayandbackwiththat letter,andyoushallhaveasixpence if theanswer'sagood 'un," Imusttakeit.Lor,LittleMother,what'sapoorthingoftenyearoldtodo?AndifMrTipifhehappenstobeacominginasIcomeout,andifhesays"Whereareyougoing,Maggy?"andifIsays,"I'magoingSoandSo,"andifhesays,"I'llhaveaTry too,"and ifhegoes into theGeorgeandwritesa letterand ifhegivesitmeandsays,"Takethatonetothesameplace,andif theanswer'sagood'unI'llgiveyouashilling,"itain'tmyfault,mother!'

Arthur read, in LittleDorrit's downcast eyes, towhom she foresaw that theletterswereaddressed.

'I'magoingSoandSo.There!That'swhereIamagoingto,'saidMaggy.'I'magoingSoandSo. Itain'tyou,LittleMother, that'sgotanything todowithitit's you,youknow,' saidMaggy, addressingArthur. 'You'dbetter come,SoandSo,andletmetakeandgive'emtoyou.'

'We will not be so particular as that, Maggy. Give them me here,' saidClennaminalowvoice.

'Well, then, comeacross the road,' answeredMaggy in a very loudwhisper.'LittleMotherwasn'ttoknownothingofit,andshewouldneverhaveknownnothingofitifyouhadonlygoneSoandSo,insteadofbotheringandloiteringabout.Itain'tmyfault.ImustdowhatIamtold.Theyoughttobeashamedofthemselvesfortellingme.'

Clennamcrossedtotheotherside,andhurriedlyopenedtheletters.Thatfromthe father mentioned that most unexpectedly finding himself in the novelpositionofhavingbeendisappointedofaremittancefromtheCityonwhichhe had confidently counted, he took up his pen, being restrained by theunhappy circumstance of his incarceration during threeandtwenty years(doubly underlined), from coming himself, as he would otherwise certainlyhavedonetookuphispentoentreatMrClennamtoadvancehimthesumofThreePoundsTenShillingsuponhisI.O.U.,whichhebeggedtoenclose.ThatfromthesonsetforththatMrClennamwould,heknew,begratifiedtohearthathehadatlengthobtainedpermanentemploymentofahighlysatisfactorynature,accompaniedwitheveryprospectofcompletesuccessinlife;butthatthetemporaryinabilityofhisemployertopayhimhisarrearsofsalarytothatdate (in which condition said employer had appealed to that generousforbearance in which he trusted he should never be wanting towards afellowcreature),combinedwiththefraudulentconductofafalsefriendandthepresenthighpriceofprovisions,hadreducedhimtothevergeofruin,unlesshecouldbyaquarterbeforesix thatevening raise thesumofeightpounds.This sum, Mr Clennam would be happy to learn, he had, through thepromptitude of several friends who had a lively confidence in his probity,alreadyraised,withtheexceptionofatriflingbalanceofonepoundseventeenandfourpence;theloanofwhichbalance,fortheperiodofonemonth,wouldbefraughtwiththeusualbeneficentconsequences.

TheselettersClennamansweredwiththeaidofhispencilandpocketbook,onthe spot; sending the father what he asked for, and excusing himself fromcompliance with the demand of the son. He then commissioned Maggy toreturnwith his replies, andgave her the shilling ofwhich the failure of hersupplementalenterprisewouldhavedisappointedherotherwise.

WhenherejoinedLittleDorrit,andtheyhadbegunwalkingasbefore,shesaidallatonce:

'IthinkIhadbettergo.Ihadbettergohome.'

'Don't be distressed,' saidClennam, 'I have answered the letters. Theywerenothing.Youknowwhattheywere.Theywerenothing.'

'ButIamafraid,'shereturned,'toleavehim,Iamafraidtoleaveanyofthem.WhenIamgone,theypervertbuttheydon'tmeanitevenMaggy.'

'It was a very innocent commission that she undertook, poor thing. And inkeepingitsecretfromyou,shesupposed,nodoubt,thatshewasonlysavingyouuneasiness.'

'Yes,Ihopeso,Ihopeso.ButIhadbettergohome!Itwasbuttheotherday

thatmysister toldmeIhadbecomesousedto theprisonthatIhadits toneandcharacter.Itmustbeso.IamsureitmustbewhenIseethesethings.Myplaceisthere.Iambetterthere,itisunfeelinginmetobehere,whenIcandotheleastthingthere.Goodbye.Ihadfarbetterstayathome!'

Theagonisedwayinwhichshepouredthisout,asifitburstofitselffromhersuppressedheart,madeitdifficultforClennamtokeepthetearsfromhiseyesashesawandheardher.

'Don'tcallithome,mychild!'heentreated.'Itisalwayspainfultometohearyoucallithome.'

'Butitishome!WhatelsecanIcallhome?WhyshouldIeverforgetitforasinglemoment?'

'Youneverdo,dearLittleDorrit,inanygoodandtrueservice.'

'I hopenot,O I hopenot!But it is better forme to stay there;muchbetter,much more dutiful, much happier. Please don't go with me, let me go bymyself.Goodbye,Godblessyou.Thankyou,thankyou.'

Hefelt that itwasbetter torespectherentreaty,anddidnotmovewhileherslightformwentquicklyawayfromhim.Whenithadflutteredoutofsight,heturnedhisfacetowardsthewaterandstoodthinking.

Shewouldhavebeendistressedatanytimebythisdiscoveryoftheletters;butsomuchso,andinthatunrestrainableway?

No.

Whenshehadseenherfatherbeggingwithhisthreadbaredisguiseon,whenshehadentreatedhimnot togiveherfathermoney,shehadbeendistressed,but not like this. Something hadmade her keenly and additionally sensitivejustnow.Now,wastheresomeoneinthehopelessunattainabledistance?Orhadthesuspicionbeenbroughtintohismind,byhisownassociationsofthetroubled river running beneath the bridgewith the same river higher up, itschangeless tune upon the prowof the ferryboat, somanymiles an hour thepeaceful flowing of the stream, here the rushes, there the lilies, nothinguncertainorunquiet?

Hethoughtofhispoorchild,LittleDorrit,foralongtimethere;hethoughtofhergoinghome;hethoughtofherinthenight;hethoughtofherwhenthedaycame round again. And the poor child Little Dorrit thought of himtoofaithfully,ah,toofaithfully!intheshadowoftheMarshalseawall.

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