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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 that his manners are a true gentleman's； and quite
a study。 I see none like them in that place； but he is admitted to
be superior to all the rest。 This is quite as much why they make him
presents； as because they know him to be needy。 He is not to be blamed
for being in need； poor love。 Who could be in prison a quarter of a
century； and be prosperous！'
What affection in her words； what passion in her repressed tears；
what a great soul of fidelity within her； how true the light that shed
false brightness round him！
'If I have found it best to conceal where my home is； it is not because
I am ashamed of him。 God forbid！ Nor am I so much ashamed of the place
itself as might be supposed。 People are not bad because they e there。
I have known numbers of good； persevering； honest people e there
through misfortune。 They are almost all kind…hearted to one another。
And it would be ungrateful indeed in me； to forget that I have had many
quiet； fortable hours there； that I had an excellent friend there
when I was quite a baby； who was very very fond of me； that I have been
taught there； and have worked there； and have slept soundly there。 I
think it would be almost cowardly and cruel not to have some little
attachment for it； after all this。'
She had relieved the faithful fulness of her heart； and modestly said；
raising her eyes appealingly to her new friend's； 'I did not mean to say
so much； nor have I ever but once spoken about this before。 But it seems
to set it more right than it was last night。 I said I wished you had
not followed me； sir。 I don't wish it so much now； unless you should
think……indeed I don't wish it at all； unless I should have spoken so
confusedly； that……that you can scarcely understand me； which I am afraid
may be the case。'
He told her with perfect truth that it was not the case； and putting
himself between her and the sharp wind and rain； sheltered her as well
as he could。
'I feel permitted now；' he said； 'to ask you a little more concerning
your father。 Has he many creditors？'
'Oh！ a great number。'
'I mean detaining creditors； who keep him where he is？'
'Oh yes！ a great number。'
'Can you tell me……I can get the information； no doubt； elsewhere； if you
cannot……who is the most influential of them？'
Little Dorrit said； after considering a little； that she used to
hear long ago of Mr Tite Barnacle as a man of great power。 He was a
missioner； or a board； or a trustee； 'or something。' He lived
in Grosvenor Square； she thought； or very near it。 He was under
Government……high in the Circumlocution Office。 She appeared to have
acquired； in her infancy； some awful impression of the might of this
formidable Mr Tite Barnacle of Grosvenor Square； or very near it； and
the Circumlocution Office； which quite crushed her when she mentioned
him。
'It can do no harm；' thought Arthur； 'if I see this Mr Tite Barnacle。'
The thought did not present itself so quietly but that her quickness
intercepted it。 'Ah！' said Little Dorrit； shaking her head with the mild
despair of a lifetime。 'Many people used to think once of getting my
poor father out； but you don't know how hopeless it is。'
She forgot to be shy at the moment； in honestly warning him away from
the sunken wreck he had a dream of raising； and looked at him with
eyes which assuredly； in association with her patient face； her fragile
figure； her spare dress； and the wind and rain； did not turn him from
his purpose of helping her。
'Even if it could be done；' said she……'and it never can be done
now……where could father live； or how could he live？ I have often thought
that if such a change could e； it might be anything but a service to
him now。 People might not think so well of him outside as they do there。
He might not be so gently dealt with outside as he is there。 He might
not be so fit himself for the life outside as he is for that。' Here for
the first time she could not restrain her tears from falling； and the
little thin hands he had watched when they were so busy； trembled as
they clasped each other。
'It would be a new distress to him even to know that I earn a little
money； and that Fanny earns a little money。 He is so anxious about us；
you see； feeling helplessly shut up there。 Such a good； good father！'
He let the little burst of feeling go by before he spoke。 It was soon
gone。 She was not accustomed to think of herself； or to trouble any one
with her emotions。 He had but glanced away at the piles of city roofs
and chimneys among which the smoke was rolling heavily； and at the
wilderness of masts on the river； and the wilderness of steeples on
the shore； indistinctly mixed together in the stormy haze； when she
was again as quiet as if she had been plying her needle in his mother's
room。
'You would be glad to have your brother set at liberty？'
'Oh very； very glad； sir！'
'Well； we will hope for him at least。 You told me last night of a friend
you had？'
His name was Plornish； Little Dorrit said。
And where did Plornish live？ Plornish lived in Bleeding Heart Yard。 He
was 'only a plasterer；' Little Dorrit said； as a caution to him not to
form high social expectations of Plornish。 He lived at the last house in
Bleeding Heart Yard； and his name was over a little gateway。 Arthur took
down the address and gave her his。 He had now done all he sought to do
for the present； except that he wished to leave her with a reliance
upon him； and to have something like a promise from her that she would
cherish it。
'There is one friend！' he said； putting up his pocketbook。 'As I take
you back……you are going back？'
'Oh yes！ going straight home。'
'As I take you back；' the word home jarred upon him； 'let me ask you to
persuade yourself that you have another friend。 I make no professions；
and say no more。'
'You are truly kind to me； sir。 I am sure I need no more。'
They walked back through the miserable muddy streets； and among the
poor； mean shops； and were jostled by the crowds of dirty hucksters
usual to a poor neighbourhood。 There was nothing； by the short way； that
was pleasant to any of the five senses。 Yet it was not a mon passage
through mon rain； and mire； and noise； to Clennam； having this
little； slender； careful creature on his arm。 How young she seemed to
him； or how old he to her； or what a secret either to the other； in that
beginning of the destined interweaving of their stories； matters not
here。 He thought of her having been born and bred among these scenes；
and shrinking through them now； familiar yet misplaced； he thought
of her long acquaintance with the squalid needs of life； and of her
innocence； of her solicitude for others； and her few years； and her
childish aspect。
They were e into the High Street； where the prison stood； when a
voice cried； 'Little mother； little mother！' Little Dorrit stopping and
looking back； an excited figure of a strange kind bounced against them
（still crying 'little mother'）； fell down； and scattered the contents of
a large basket； filled with potatoes； in the mud。
'Oh； Maggy；' said Little Dorrit； 'what a clumsy child you are！'
Maggy was not hurt； but picked herself up immediately； and then began
to pick up the potatoes； in which both Little Dorrit and Arthur Clennam
helped。 Maggy picked up very few potatoes and a great quantity of mud；
but they were all recovered； and deposited in the basket。 Maggy then
smeared her muddy face with her shawl； and presenting it to Mr Clennam
as a type of purity； enabled him to see what she was like。
She was about eight…and…twenty； with large bones； large features； large
feet and hands； large eyes and no hair。 Her large eyes were limpid and
almost colourless； they seemed to be very little affected by light；
and to stand unnaturally still。 There was also that attentive listening
expression in her face； which is seen in the faces of the blind； but she
was not blind； having one tolerably serviceable eye。 Her face was not
exceedingly ugly； though it was only redeemed from being so by a smile；
a good…humoured smile； and pleasant in itself；