So she talked to him as she had talked before, and they came to the

Lodge and found Mr Chivery on the lock, and went in. Now, it happened

that the Father of the Marshalsea was sauntering towards the Lodge at

the moment when they were coming out of it, entering the prison arm in

arm. As the spectacle of their approach met his view, he displayed the

utmost agitation and despondency of mind; and--altogether regardless of

Old Nandy, who, making his reverence, stood with his hat in his hand, as

he always did in that gracious presence--turned about, and hurried in at

his own doorway and up the staircase.

Leaving the old unfortunate, whom in an evil hour she had taken under

her protection, with a hurried promise to return to him directly, Little

Dorrit hastened after her father, and, on the staircase, found Fanny

following her, and flouncing up with offended dignity. The three came

into the room almost together; and the Father sat down in his chair,

buried his face in his hands, and uttered a groan.

'Of course,' said Fanny. 'Very proper. Poor, afflicted Pa! Now, I hope

you believe me, Miss?' 'What is it, father?' cried Little Dorrit, bending over him. 'Have I

made you unhappy, father? Not I, I hope!'

'You hope, indeed! I dare say! Oh, you'--Fanny paused for a sufficiently

strong expression--'you Common-minded little Amy! You complete

prison-child!' He stopped these angry reproaches with a wave of his hand, and sobbed

out, raising his face and shaking his melancholy head at his younger

daughter, 'Amy, I know that you are innocent in intention. But you

have cut me to the soul.' 'Innocent in intention!' the implacable Fanny

struck in. 'Stuff in intention! Low in intention! Lowering of the family

in intention!' 'Father!' cried Little Dorrit, pale and trembling. 'I am very sorry.

Pray forgive me. Tell me how it is, that I may not do it again!'

'How it is, you prevaricating little piece of goods!' cried Fanny. 'You

know how it is. I have told you already, so don't fly in the face of

Providence by attempting to deny it!'

'Hush! Amy,' said the father, passing his pocket-handkerchief several

times across his face, and then grasping it convulsively in the hand

that dropped across his knee, 'I have done what I could to keep you

select here; I have done what I could to retain you a position here. I

may have succeeded; I may not. You may know it; you may not. I give no

opinion. I have endured everything here but humiliation. That I have

happily been spared--until this day.'




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