The night was dark; and the prison lamps in the yard, and the candles in

the prison windows faintly shining behind many sorts of wry old curtain

and blind, had not the air of making it lighter. A few people loitered

about, but the greater part of the population was within doors. The old

man, taking the right-hand side of the yard, turned in at the third or

fourth doorway, and began to ascend the stairs. 'They are rather dark,

sir, but you will not find anything in the way.'

He paused for a moment before opening a door on the second story. He had

no sooner turned the handle than the visitor saw Little Dorrit, and saw

the reason of her setting so much store by dining alone.

She had brought the meat home that she should have eaten herself, and

was already warming it on a gridiron over the fire for her father, clad

in an old grey gown and a black cap, awaiting his supper at the table.

A clean cloth was spread before him, with knife, fork, and spoon,

salt-cellar, pepper-box, glass, and pewter ale-pot. Such zests as his

particular little phial of cayenne pepper and his pennyworth of pickles

in a saucer, were not wanting.

She started, coloured deeply, and turned white. The visitor, more with

his eyes than by the slight impulsive motion of his hand, entreated her

to be reassured and to trust him.

'I found this gentleman,' said the uncle--'Mr Clennam, William, son of

Amy's friend--at the outer gate, wishful, as he was going by, of paying

his respects, but hesitating whether to come in or not. This is my

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

your daughter may explain and justify my desire to be presented to you,

sir.' 'Mr Clennam,' returned the other, rising, taking his cap off in the

flat of his hand, and so holding it, ready to put on again, 'you do me

honour. You are welcome, sir;' with a low bow. 'Frederick, a chair. Pray

sit down, Mr Clennam.'

He put his black cap on again as he had taken it off, and resumed his

own seat. There was a wonderful air of benignity and patronage in his

manner. These were the ceremonies with which he received the collegians.

'You are welcome to the Marshalsea, sir. I have welcomed many gentlemen

to these walls. Perhaps you are aware--my daughter Amy may have

mentioned that I am the Father of this place.'

'I--so I have understood,' said Arthur, dashing at the assertion.




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