TUITION； and behind the blind was a little white…faced boy； with a slice
of bread…and…butter and a battledore。
The window being accessible from the footway； he looked in over the
blind； returned the shuttlecock； and put his question。
'Dorrit？' said the little white…faced boy （Master Cripples in fact）。 'Mr
Dorrit？ Third bell and one knock。' The pupils of Mr Cripples appeared to
have been making a copy…book of the street…door； it was so extensively
scribbled over in pencil。
The frequency of the inscriptions； 'Old Dorrit；' and 'Dirty Dick；'
in bination； suggested intentions of personality on the part Of
Mr Cripples's pupils。 There was ample time to make these observations
before the door was opened by the poor old man himself。
'Ha！' said he； very slowly remembering Arthur； 'you were shut in last
night？'
'Yes； Mr Dorrit。 I hope to meet your niece here presently。'
'Oh！' said he； pondering。 'Out of my brother's way？ True。 Would you e
up…stairs and wait for her？'
'Thank you。'
Turning himself as slowly as he turned in his mind whatever he heard or
said； he led the way up the narrow stairs。 The house was very close； and
had an unwholesome smell。 The little staircase windows looked in at the
back windows of other houses as unwholesome as itself； with poles and
lines thrust out of them； on which unsightly linen hung； as if the
inhabitants were angling for clothes； and had had some wretched bites
not worth attending to。 In the back garret……a sickly room； with a
turn…up bedstead in it； so hastily and recently turned up that the
blankets were boiling over； as it were； and keeping the lid open……a
half…finished breakfast of coffee and toast for two persons was jumbled
down anyhow on a rickety table。
There was no one there。 The old man mumbling to himself； after some
consideration； that Fanny had run away； went to the next room to fetch
her back。 The visitor； observing that she held the door on the inside；
and that； when the uncle tried to open it； there was a sharp adjuration
of 'Don't； stupid！' and an appearance of loose stocking and flannel；
concluded that the young lady was in an undress。 The uncle； without
appearing to e to any conclusion； shuffled in again； sat down in his
chair； and began warming his hands at the fire； not that it was cold； or
that he had any waking idea whether it was or not。
'What did you think of my brother； sir？' he asked； when he by…and…by
discovered what he was doing； left off； reached over to the
chimney…piece； and took his clario case down。
'I was glad；' said Arthur； very much at a loss； for his thoughts were
on the brother before him； 'to find him so well and cheerful。' 'Ha！'
muttered the old man； 'yes； yes； yes； yes； yes！'
Arthur wondered what he could possibly want with the clario case。 He
did not want it at all。 He discovered； in due time； that it was not the
little paper of snuff （which was also on the chimney…piece）； put it back
again； took down the snuff instead； and solaced himself with a pinch。 He
was as feeble； spare； and slow in his pinches as in everything else； but
a certain little trickling of enjoyment of them played in the poor worn
nerves about the corners of his eyes and mouth。
'Amy； Mr Clennam。 What do you think of her？'
'I am much impressed； Mr Dorrit； by all that I have seen of her and
thought of her。'
'My brother y；' he returned。 'We
should all have been lost without Amy。 She is a very good girl； Amy。 She
does her duty。'
Arthur fancied that he heard in these praises a certain tone of custom；
which he had heard from the father last night with an inward protest and
feeling of antagonism。 It was not that they stinted her praises； or
were insensible to what she did for them； but that they were lazily
habituated to her； as they were to all the rest of their condition。
He fancied that although they had before them； every day； the means of
parison between her and one another and themselves； they regarded her
as being in her necessary place； as holding a position towards them all
which belonged to her； like her name or her age。 He fancied that they
viewed her； not as having risen away from the prison atmosphere； but as
appertaining to it； as being vaguely what they had a right to expect；
and nothing more。
Her uncle resumed his breakfast； and was munching toast sopped in
coffee； oblivious of his guest； when the third bell rang。 That was Amy；
he said； and went down to let her in； leaving the visitor with as vivid
a picture on his mind of his begrimed hands； dirt…worn face； and decayed
figure； as if he were still drooping in his chair。
She came up after him； in the usual plain dress； and with the usual
timid manner。 Her lips were a little parted； as if her heart beat faster
than usual。
'Mr Clennam； Amy；' said her uncle； 'has been expecting you some time。'
'I took the liberty of sending you a message。'
'I received the message； sir。'
'Are you going to my mother's this morning？ I think not； for it is past
your usual hour。' 'Not to…day； sir。 I am not wanted to…day。'
'Will you allow Me to walk a little way in whatever direction you may
be going？ I can then speak to you as we walk； both without detaining you
here； and without intruding longer here myself。'
She looked embarrassed； but said； if he pleased。 He made a pretence of
having mislaid his walking…stick； to give her time to set the bedstead
right； to answer her sister's impatient knock at the wall； and to say a
word softly to her uncle。 Then he found it； and they went down…stairs；
she first； he following； the uncle standing at the stair…head； and
probably forgetting them before they had reached the ground floor。
Mr Cripples's pupils； who were by this time ing to school； desisted
from their morning recreation of cuffing one another with bags and
books； to stare with all the eyes they had at a stranger who had been
to see Dirty Dick。 They bore the trying spectacle in silence； until the
mysterious visitor was at a safe distance； when they burst into pebbles
and yells； and likewise into reviling dances； and in all respects buried
the pipe of peace with so many savage ceremonies； that； if Mr Cripples
had been the chief of the Cripplewayboo tribe with his war…paint on；
they could scarcely have done greater justice to their education。
In the midst of this homage； Mr Arthur Clennam offered his arm to Little
Dorrit； and Little Dorrit took it。 'Will you go by the Iron Bridge；'
said he； 'where there is an escape from the noise of the street？' Little
Dorrit answered； if he pleased； and presently ventured to hope that he
would 'not mind' Mr Cripples's boys； for she had herself received
her education； such as it was； in Mr Cripples's evening academy。 He
returned； with the best will in the world； that Mr Cripples's boys were
forgiven out of the bottom of his soul。 Thus did Cripples unconsciously
bee a master of the ceremonies between them； and bring them more
naturally together than Beau Nash might have done if they had lived
in his golden days； and he had alighted from his coach and six for the
purpose。
The morning remained squally； and the streets were miserably muddy； but
no rain fell as they walked towards the Iron Bridge。 The little creature
seemed so young in his eyes； that there were moments when he found
himself thinking of her； if not speaking to her； as if she were a child。
Perhaps he seemed as old in her eyes as she seemed young in his。
'I am sorry to hear you were so inconvenienced last night； sir； as to be
locked in。 It was very unfortunate。'
It was nothing； he returned。 He had had a very good bed。
'Oh yes！' she said quickly； 'she believed there were excellent beds at
the coffee…house。' He noticed that the coffee…house ajestic
hotel to her； and that she treasured its reputation。 'I believe it is
very expensive；' said Little Dorrit； 'but MY father has told me that
quite beautiful dinners may be got there。 And wine；' she added timidly。
'Were you ever there？'
'Oh no！ Only into the kitchen to fetch hot water。'
To think of growing up with a kind of awe upon one as to the luxuries of
that superb establishment； the Marshalsea Hotel！
'I asked you last night；' said Clennam； 'how you had bee acquainted
with my mother。 Did you ever hear her name before she sent for you？'
'No； sir。'
'Do you think your father ever did？'
'No； sir。'
He met her eyes raised to his with so much wonder in them （she was
scared when the encounter took place； and shrunk away again）； that he
felt it necessary to say：
'I have a reason for asking； which I cannot very well explain； but you
must； on no account； suppose it to be of a nature to cause you the least
alarm or anxiety。 Quite the reverse。 And you think that at no time of
your father's life was my name of Clennam ever familiar to him？'
'No； sir。'
He felt； from the tone in which she spoke； that she was glancing up at
him with those parted lips； therefore he looked before him； rather than
make her heart beat quicker still by embarrassing her afresh。
Thus they emerged upon the Iron Bridge； which was as quiet after the
roaring streets as though it had been open country。 The wind blew
roughly； the e rattling past them； skimming the pools on
the road and pavement； and raining them down into the river。 The clouds
raced on furiously in the lead…Coloured sky； the smoke and mist raced
after them； the dark tide ran fierce and strong in the same direction。
Little Dorrit seemed the least； the quietest； and weakest of Heaven's
creatures。
'Let me put you in a coach；' said Clennam； very nearly adding 'my poor
child。'
She hurriedly declined； saying that wet or dry made little difference to
her； she was used to go about in all weathers。 He knew it to be so； and
was touched with more pity； thinking of the slight figure at his side；
making its nightly way through the damp dark boisterous streets to such
a place of rest。 'You spoke so feelingly to me last night； sir； and
I found afterwards that you had been so generous to my father； that I
could not resist your message； if it was only to thank you； especially
as I wished very much to say to you……' she hesitated and trembled； and
tears rose in her eyes； but did not fall。
'To say to me……？'
'That I hope you will not misunderstand my father。 Don't judge him； sir；
as you would judge others outside the gates。 He has been there so long！
I never saw him outside； but I can understand that he must have grown
different in some things since。'
'My thoughts will never be unjust or harsh towards him； believe me。'
'Not；' she said； with a prouder air； as the misgiving evidently crept
upon her that she might seem to be abandoning him； 'not that he has
anything to be ashamed of for himself； or that I have anything to be
ashamed of for him。 He only requires to be understood。 I only ask for
him that his life may be fairly remembered。 All that he said was quite
true。 It all happened just as he related it。 He is very much respected。
Everybody who es in； is glad to know him。 He is more courted than
anyone else。 He is far more thought of than the Marshal is。'
If ever pride were innocent； it was innocent in Little Dorrit when she
grew boastful of her father。
'It is often said tha