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'e in； e in！' said a gracious voice。 The Father's voice； her
father's； the Marshalsea's father's。 He was seated in his black velvet
cap； with his newspaper； three…and…sixpence accidentally left on the
table； and two chairs arranged。 Everything prepared for holding his
Court。
'Ah； Young John！ How do you do； how do you do！'
'Pretty well； I thank you； sir。 I hope you are the same。'
'Yes； John Chivery； yes。 Nothing to plain of。'
'I have taken the liberty； sir； of……'
'Eh？' The Father of the Marshalsea always lifted up his eyebrows at this
point； and became amiably distraught and smilingly absent in mind。
'……A few cigars； sir。'
'Oh！' （For the moment； excessively surprised。） 'Thank you； Young John；
thank you。 But really； I am afraid I am too……No？ Well then； I will say
no more about it。 Put them on the mantelshelf； if you please； Young
John。 And sit down； sit down。 You are not a stranger； John。'
'Thank you； sir； I am sure……Miss；' here Young John turned the great hat
round and round upon his left…hand； like a slowly twirling mouse…cage；
'Miss Amy quite well； sir？' 'Yes； John； yes； very well。 She is out。'
'Indeed； sir？'
'Yes； John。 Miss Amy is gone for an airing。 My young people all go out a
good deal。 But at their time of life； it's natural； John。'
'Very much so； I am sure； sir。'
'An airing。 An airing。 Yes。' He was blandly tapping his fingers on
the table； and casting his eyes up at the window。 'Amy has gone for
an airing on the Iron Bridge。 She has bee quite partial to the Iron
Bridge of late； and seems to like to walk there better than anywhere。'
He returned to conversation。 'Your father is not on duty at present； I
think； John？'
'No； sir； he es on later in the afternoon。' Another twirl of the
great hat； and then Young John said； rising； 'I am afraid I must wish
you good day； sir。'
'So soon？ Good day； Young John。 Nay； nay；' with the utmost
condescension； 'never mind your glove； John。 Shake hands with it on。 You
are no stranger here； you know。'
Highly gratified by the kindness of his reception； Young John descended
the staircase。 On his way down he met some Collegians bringing up
visitors to be presented； and at that moment Mr Dorrit happened to call
over the banisters with particular distinctness； 'Much obliged to you
for your little testimonial； John！'
Little Dorrit's lover very soon laid down his penny on the tollplate of
the Iron Bridge； and came upon it looking about him for the well…known
and well…beloved figure。 At first he feared she was not there； but as he
walked on towards the Middlesex side； he saw her standing still； looking
at the water。 She was absorbed in thought； and he wondered what
she might be thinking about。 There were the piles of city roofs and
chimneys； more free from smoke than on week…days； and there were the
distant masts and steeples。 Perhaps she was thinking about them。
Little Dorrit mused so long； and was so entirely preoccupied； that
although her lover stood quiet for what he thought was a long time； and
twice or thrice retired and came back again to the former spot； still
she did not move。 So； in the end； he made up his mind to go on； and seem
to e upon her casually in passing； and speak to her。 The place was
quiet； and now or never was the time to speak to her。
He walked on； and she did not appear to hear his steps until he was
close upon her。 When he said 'Miss Dorrit！' she started and fell back
from him； with an expression in her face of fright and something like
dislike that caused him unutterable dismay。 She had often avoided him
before……always； indeed； for a long； long while。 She had turned away and
glided off so often when she had seen him ing toward her； that the
unfortunate Young John could not think it accidental。 But he had hoped
that it might be shyness； her retiring character； her foreknowledge of
the state of his heart； anything short of aversion。 Now； that momentary
look had said； 'You； of all people！ I would rather have seen any one on
earth than you！'
It was but a momentary look； inasmuch as she checked it； and said in her
soft little voice； 'Oh； Mr John！ Is it you？' But she felt what it had
been； as he felt what it had been； and they stood looking at one another
equally confused。
'Miss Amy； I am afraid I disturbed you by speaking to you。'
'Yes； rather。 I……I came here to be alone； and I thought I was。'
'Miss Amy； I took the liberty of walking this way； because Mr Dorrit
chanced to mention； when I called upon him just now； that you……'
She caused him more dismay than before by suddenly murmuring； 'O father；
father！' in a heartrending tone； and turning her face away。
'Miss Amy； I hope I don't give you any uneasiness by naming Mr Dorrit。
I assure you I found him very well and in the best of Spirits； and he
showed me even more than his usual kindness； being so very kind as to
say that I was not a stranger there； and in all ways gratifying me very
much。'
To the inexpressible consternation of her lover； Little Dorrit； with her
hands to her averted face； and rocking herself where she stood as if she
were in pain； murmured； 'O father； how can you！ O dear； dear father； how
can you； can you； do it！'
The poor fellow stood gazing at her； overflowing with sympathy； but not
knowing what to make of this； until； having taken out her handkerchief
and put it to her still averted face； she hurried away。 At first he
remained stock still； then hurried after her。
'Miss Amy； pray！ Will you have the goodness to stop a moment？ Miss Amy；
if it es to that； let ME go。 I shall go out of my senses； if I have
to think that I have driven you away like this。'
His trembling voice and unfeigned earnestness brought Little Dorrit to
a stop。 'Oh； I don't know what to do；' she cried； 'I don't know what to
do！'
To Young John； who had never seen her bereft of her quiet self…mand；
who had seen her from her infancy ever so reliable and self…suppressed；
there was a shock in her distress； and in having to associate himself
with it as its cause； that shook him from his great hat to the
pavement。 He felt it necessary to explain himself。 He might be
misunderstood……supposed to mean something； or to have done something；
that had never entered into his imagination。 He begged her to hear him
explain himself； as the greatest favour she could show him。
'Miss Amy； I know very well that your family is far above mine。 It were
vain to conceal it。 There never was a Chivery a gentleman that ever
I heard of； and I will not mit the meanness of making a false
representation on a subject so momentous。 Miss Amy； I know very well
that your high…souled brother； and likewise your spirited sister； spurn
me from a height。 What I have to do is to respect them； to wish to be
admitted to their friendship； to look up at the eminence on which they
are placed from my lowlier station……for； whether viewed as tobacco or
viewed as the lock； I well know it is lowly……and ever wish them well and
happy。'
There really was a genuineness in the poor fellow； and a contrast
between the hardness of his hat and the softness of his heart （albeit；
perhaps； of his head； too）； that was moving。 Little Dorrit entreated him
to disparage neither himself nor his station； and； above all things； to
divest himself of any idea that she supposed hers to be superior。 This
gave him a little fort。
'Miss Amy；' he then stammered； 'I have had for a long time……ages they
seem to me……Revolving ages……a heart…cherished wish to say something to
you。 May I say it？'
Little Dorrit involuntarily started from his side again； with the
faintest shadow of her former look； conquering that； she went on at
great speed half across the Bridge without replying！
'May I……Miss Amy； I but ask the question humbly……may I say it？ I have
been so unlucky already in giving you pain without having any such
intentions； before the holy Heavens！ that there is no fear of my saying
it unless I have your leave。 I can be miserable alone； I can be cut up
by myself； why should I also make miserable and cut up one that I would
fling myself off that parapet to give half a moment's joy to！ Not that
that's much to do； for I'd do it for twopence。'
The mournfulness of his spirits； and the gorgeousness of his appearance；
might have made him ridiculous； but that his delicacy made him
respectable。 Little Dorrit learnt from it what to do。
'If you please； John Chivery；' she returned； trembling； but in a quiet
way； 'since you are so considerate as to ask me whether you shall say
any more……if you please； no。'
'Never； Miss Amy？'
'No； if you please。 Never。'
'O Lord！' gasped Young John。
'But perhaps you will let me； instead； say something to you。 I want
to say it earnestly； and with as plain a meaning as it is possible to
express。 When you think of us； John……I mean my brother； and sister；
and me……don't think of us as being any different from the rest； for；
whatever we once were （which I hardly know） we ceased to be long ago；
and never can be any more。 It will be much better for you； and much
better for others； if you will do that instead of what you are doing
now。'
Young John dolefully protested that he would try to bear it in mind； and