Father。 Occasionally； a vocal strain more sonorous than the generality
informed the listener that some boastful bass was in blue water； or in
the hunting field； or with the reindeer； or on the mountain； or among
the heather； but the Marshal of the Marshalsea knew better； and had got
him hard and fast。
As Arthur Clennam moved to sit down by the side of Little Dorrit； she
trembled so that she had much ado to hold her needle。 Clennam gently
put his hand upon her work； and said； 'Dear Little Dorrit； let me lay it
down。'
She yielded it to him； and he put it aside。 Her hands were then
nervously clasping together； but he took one of them。 'How seldom I have
seen you lately； Little Dorrit！'
'I have been busy； sir。'
'But I heard only to…day；' said Clennam； 'by mere accident； of your
having been with those good people close by me。 Why not e to me；
then？'
'I……I don't know。 Or rather； I thought you might be busy too。 You
generally are now； are you not？'
He saw her trembling little form and her downcast face； and the eyes
that drooped the moment they were raised to his……he saw them almost with
as much concern as tenderness。
'My child； your manner is so changed！'
The trembling was now quite beyond her control。 Softly withdrawing her
hand； and laying it in her other hand； she sat before him with her head
bent and her whole form trembling。
'My own Little Dorrit；' said Clennam； passionately。
She burst into tears。 Maggy looked round of a sudden； and stared for at
least a minute； but did not interpose。 Clennam waited some little while
before he spoke again。
'I cannot bear；' he said then； 'to see you weep； but I hope this is a
relief to an overcharged heart。'
'Yes it is； sir。 Nothing but that。'
'Well； well！ I feared you would think too much of what passed here just
now。 It is of no moment； not the least。 I am only unfortunate to have
e in the way。 Let it go by with these tears。 It is not worth one of
them。 One of them？ Such an idle thing should be repeated； with my glad
consent； fifty times a day； to save you a moment's heart…ache； Little
Dorrit。'
She had taken courage now； and answered； far more in her usual manner；
'You are so good！ But even if there was nothing else in it to be sorry
for and ashamed of； it is such a bad return to you……'
'Hush！' said Clennam； smiling and touching her lips with his hand。
'Forgetfulness in you who remember so many and so much； would be new
indeed。 Shall I remind you that I am not； and that I never was； anything
but the friend whom you agreed to trust？ No。 You remember it； don't
you？'
'I try to do so； or I should have broken the promise just now； when my
mistaken brother was here。 You will consider his bringing…up in this
place； and will not judge him hardly； poor fellow； I know！' In raising
her eyes with these words； she observed his face more nearly than she
had done yet； and said； with a quick change of tone； 'You have not been
ill； Mr Clennam？'
'No。'
'Nor tried？ Nor hurt？' she asked him； anxiously。
It fell to Clennam now； to be not quite certain how to answer。 He said
in reply：
'To speak the truth； I have been a little troubled； but it is over。
Do I show it so plainly？ I ought to have more fortitude and self…mand
than that。 I thought I had。 I must learn them of you。 Who could teach me
better！'
He never thought that she saw in him what no one else could see。 He
never thought that in the whole world there were no other eyes that
looked upon him with the same light and strength as hers。
'But it brings me to something that I wish to say；' he continued； 'and
therefore I y own face for telling tales
and being unfaithful to me。 Besides； it is a privilege and pleasure to
confide in my Little Dorrit。 Let me confess then； that； forgetting how
grave I was； and how old I was； and how the time for such things had
gone by me with the many years of sameness and little happiness that
made up my long life far away； without marking it……that； forgetting all
this； I fancied I loved some one。'
'Do I know her； sir？' asked Little Dorrit。
'No； my child。'
'Not the lady who has been kind to me for your sake？'
'Flora。 No； no。 Do you think……'
'I never quite thought so；' said Little Dorrit； more to herself than
him。 'I did wonder at it a little。'
'Well！' said Clennam； abiding by the feeling that had fallen on him in
the avenue on the night of the roses； the feeling that he was an
older man； who had done with that tender part of life； 'I found out my
mistake； and I thought about it a little……in short； a good deal……and got
wiser。 Being wiser； I counted up my years and considered what I am； and
looked back； and looked forward； and found that I should soon be grey。 I
found that I had climbed the hill； and passed the level ground upon the
top； and was descending quickly。'
If he had known the sharpness of the pain he caused the patient heart；
in speaking thus！ While doing it； too； with the purpose of easing and
serving her。
'I found that the day when any such thing would have been graceful in
me； or good in me； or hopeful or happy for me or any one in connection
with me； was gone； and would never shine again。'
O！ If he had known； if he had known！ If he could have seen the dagger in
his hand； and the cruel wounds it struck in the faithful bleeding breast
of his Little Dorrit！
'All that is over； and I have turned my face from it。 Why do I speak of
this to Little Dorrit？ Why do I show you； my child； the space of years
that there is between us； and recall to you that I have passed； by the
amount of your whole life； the time that is present to you？'
'Because you trust me； I hope。 Because you know that nothing can touch
you without touching me； that nothing can make you happy or unhappy； but
it must make me； who am so grateful to you； the same。'
He heard the thrill in her voice； he saw her earnest face； he saw her
clear true eyes； he sa that would have joyfully
thrown itself before him to receive a mortal wound directed at his
breast； with the dying cry； 'I love him！' and the remotest suspicion
of the truth never dawned upon his mind。 No。 He saw the devoted little
creature with her worn shoes； in her mon dress； in her jail…home； a
slender child in body； a strong heroine in soul； and the light of her
domestic story made all else dark to him。
'For those reasons assuredly； Little Dorrit； but for another too。 So
far removed； so different； and so much older； I am the better fitted for
your friend and adviser。 I mean； I am the more easily to be trusted；
and any little constraint that you might feel with another； may vanish
before me。 Why have you kept so retired from me？ Tell me。'
'I am better here。 My place and use are here。 I am much better here；'
said Little Dorrit； faintly。
'So you said that day upon the bridge。 I thought of it much afterwards。
Have you no secret you could entrust to me； with hope and fort； if
you would！'
'Secret？ No； I have no secret；' said Little Dorrit in some trouble。
They had been speaking in low voices； more because it was natural to
what they said to adopt that tone； than with any care to reserve it from
Maggy at her work。 All of a sudden Maggy stared again； and this time
spoke：
'I say！ Little Mother！'
'Yes； Maggy。'
'If you an't got no secret of your own to tell him； tell him that about
the Princess。 She had a secret； you know。'
'The Princess had a secret？' said Clennam； in some surprise。 'What
Princess was that； Maggy？'
'Lor！ How you do go and bother a gal of ten；' said Maggy； 'catching the
poor thing up in that way。 Whoever said the Princess had a secret？ _I_
never said so。'
'I beg your pardon。 I thought you did。'
'No； I didn't。 How could I； when it was her as wanted to find it out？ It
was the little woman as had the secret； and she was always a spinning at
her wheel。 And so she says to her； why do you keep it there？ And so the
t'other one says to her； no I don't； and so the t'other one says to her；
yes you do； and then they both goes to the cupboard； and there it is。
And she wouldn't go into the Hospital； and so she died。 You know； Little
Mother； tell him that。
For it was a reg'lar good secret； that was！' cried Maggy； hugging
herself。
Arthur looked at Little Dorrit for help to prehend this； and was
struck by seeing her so timid and red。 But； when she told him that it
was only a Fairy Tale she had one day made up for Maggy； and that there
was nothing in it which she wouldn't be ashamed to tell again to anybody
else； even if she could remember it； he left the subject where it was。
However； he returned to his own subject by first entreating her to see
him oftener； and to remember that it was impossible to have a stronger
interest in her welfare than he had； or to be more set upon promoting it
than he was。 When she answered fervently； she well knew that； she never
forgot it； he touched upon his second and more delicate point……the
suspicion he had formed。
'Little Dorrit；' he said； taking her hand again； and speaking lower than
he had spoken yet； so that even Maggy in the small room could not hear
him； 'another word。 I have wanted very much to say this to you； I have
tried for opportunities。 Don't mind me； who； for the matter of years；
might be your father or your uncle。 Always think of me as quite an
old man。 I know that all your devotion centres in this room； and
that nothing to the last will ever tempt you away from the duties you
discharge here。 If I were not sure of it； I should； before now； have
implored you； and implored your father； to let me make some provision
for you in a more suitable place。 But you may have an interest……I will
not say； now； though even that might be……may have； at another time；
an interest in some one else； an interest not inpatible with your
affection here。'
She was very； very pale； and silently shook her head。
'It may be； dear Little Dorrit。'
'No。 No。 No。' She shook her head； after each slow repetition of
the word； with an air of quiet desolation that he remembered long
afterwards。 The time came when he remembered it well； long afterwards；
within those prison walls； within that very room。
'But； if it ever should be； tell me so； my dear child。 Entrust the truth
to me； point out the object of such an interest to me； and I will try
with all the zeal； and honour； and friendship and respect that I feel
for you； good Little Dorrit of my heart； to do you a lasting service。'
'O thank you； thank you！ But； O no； O no； O no！' She said this； looking
at him with her work…worn hands folded together； and in the same
resigned accents as before。
'I press for no confidence now。 I only ask you to repose unhesitating
trust in me。'
'Can I do less than that； when you are so good！'
'Then you will trust me fully？ Will have no secret unhappiness； or
anxiety； concealed from me？'
'Almost none。'
'And you have none now？'
She shook her head。 But she was very pale。
'When I lie down to…night； and my thoughts e back……as they will； for
they do every night； even when I have not seen you……to this sad place； I
may believe that there is no grief beyond this room； now； and its usual
occupants； which preys on Little Dorrit's mind？'
She seemed to