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could not walk on thinking for ten minutes without recalling Flora。
She necessarily recalled to him his life； with all its misdirection and
little happiness。
When he got to his lodging； he sat down before the dying fire； as he
had stood at the window of his old room looking out upon the blackened
forest of chimneys； and turned his gaze back upon the gloomy vista by
which he had e to that stage in his existence。 So long； so bare；
so blank。 No childhood； no youth； except for one remembrance； that one
remembrance proved； only that day； to be a piece of folly。
It was a misfortune to him； trifle as it might have been to another。
For； while all that was hard and stern in his recollection； remained
Reality on being proved……was obdurate to the sight and touch； and
relaxed nothing of its old indomitable grimness……the one tender
recollection of his experience would not bear the same test； and melted
away。 He had foreseen this； on the former night； when he had dreamed
with waking eyes； but he had not felt it then； and he had now。
He was a dreamer in such wise； because he was a man who had； deep…rooted
in his nature； a belief in all the gentle and good things his life had
been without。 Bred in meanness and hard dealing； this had rescued him
to be a man of honourable mind and open hand。 Bred in coldness and
severity； this had rescued him to have a warm and sympathetic heart。
Bred in a creed too darkly audacious to pursue； through its process of
reserving the making of man in the image of his Creator to the making of
his Creator in the image of an erring man； this had rescued him to judge
not； and in humility to be merciful； and have hope and charity。
And this saved him still from the whimpering weakness and cruel
selfishness of holding that because such a happiness or such a virtue
had not e into his little path； or worked well for him； therefore
it was not in the great scheme； but was reducible； when found in
appearance； to the basest elements。 A disappointed mind he had； but a
mind too firm and healthy for such unwholesome air。 Leaving himself in
the dark； it could rise into the light； seeing it shine on others and
hailing it。
Therefore； he sat before his dying fire； sorrowful to think upon the way
by which he had e to that night； yet not strewing poison on the way
by which other men had e to it。 That he should have missed so much；
and at his time of life should look so far about him for any staff to
bear him pany upon his downward journey and cheer it； was a just
regret。 He looked at the fire from which the blaze departed； from which
the afterglow subsided； in which the ashes turned grey； from which they
dropped to dust； and thought； 'How soon I too shall pass through such
changes； and be gone！'
To review his life was like descending a green tree in fruit and flower；
and seeing all the branches wither and drop off； one by one； as he came
down towards them。
'From the unhappy suppression of my youngest days； through the rigid and
unloving home that followed them； through my departure； my long exile；
my return； my mother's wele； my intercourse with her since； down to
the afternoon of this day with poor Flora；' said Arthur Clennam； 'what
have I found！'
His door was softly opened； and these spoken words startled him； and
came as if they were an answer：
'Little Dorrit。'
CHAPTER 14。 Little Dorrit's Party
Arthur Clennam rose hastily； and saw her standing at the door。 This
history must sometimes see with Little Dorrit's eyes； and shall begin
that course by seeing him。
Little Dorrit looked into a dim room； which seemed a spacious one to
her； and grandly furnished。 Courtly ideas of Covent Garden； as a place
with famous coffee…houses； where gentlemen wearing gold…laced coats and
swords had quarrelled and fought duels； costly ideas of Covent Garden；
as a place where there were flowers in winter at guineas a…piece；
pine…apples at guineas a pound； and peas at guineas a pint； picturesque
ideas of Covent Garden； as a place where there was a mighty theatre；
showing wonderful and beautiful sights to richly…dressed ladies and
gentlemen； and which was for ever far beyond the reach of poor Fanny or
poor uncle； desolate ideas of Covent Garden； as having all those arches
in it； where the miserable children in rags among whom she had just now
passed； like young rats； slunk and hid； fed on offal； huddled together
for warmth； and were hunted about （look to the rats young and old； all
ye Barnacles； for before God they are eating away our foundations； and
will bring the roofs on our heads！）； teeming ideas of Covent Garden； as
a place of past and present mystery； romance； abundance； want； beauty；
ugliness； fair country gardens； and foul street gutters； all confused
together；……made the room dimmer than it was in Little Dorrit's eyes； as
they timidly saw it from the door。
At first in the chair before the gone…out fire； and then turned round
wondering to see her； was the gentleman whom she sought。 The brown；
grave gentleman； who smiled so pleasantly； who was so frank and
considerate in his manner； and yet in whose earnestness there was
something that reminded her of his mother； with the great difference
that she was earnest in asperity and he in gentleness。 Now he regarded
her with that attentive and inquiring look before which Little Dorrit's
eyes had always fallen； and before which they fell still。
'My poor child！ Here at midnight？'
'I said Little Dorrit； sir； on purpose to prepare you。 I knew you must
be very much surprised。'
'Are you alone？'
'No sir； I have got Maggy with me。'
Considering her entrance sufficiently prepared for by this mention of
her name； Maggy appeared from the landing outside； on the broad grin。
She instantly suppressed that manifestation； however； and became fixedly
solemn。
'And I have no fire；' said Clennam。 'And you are……' He was going to say
so lightly clad； but stopped himself in what would have been a reference
to her poverty； saying instead； 'And it is so cold。'
Putting the chair from which he had risen nearer to the grate； he made
her sit down in it； and hurriedly bringing wood and coal； heaped them
together and got a blaze。
'Your foot is like marble； my child；' he had happened to touch it； while
stooping on one knee at his work of kindling the fire； 'put it nearer
the warmth。' Little Dorrit thanked him hastily。 It ； it
was very warm！ It smote upon his heart to feel that she hid her thin；
worn shoe。
Little Dorrit was not ashamed of her poor shoes。 He knew her story； and
it was not that。 Little Dorrit had a misgiving that he might blame her
father； if he saw them； that he might think； 'why did he dine to…day；
and leave this little creature to the mercy of the cold stones！' She had
no belief that it would have been a just reflection； she simply knew；
by experience； that such delusions did sometimes present themselves to
people。 It was a part of her father's misfortunes that they did。
'Before I say anything else；' Little Dorrit began； sitting before
the pale fire； and raising her eyes again to the face which in its
harmonious look of interest； and pity； and protection； she felt to be a
mystery far above her in degree； and almost removed beyond her guessing
at； 'may I tell you something； sir？'
'Yes； my child。' A slight shade of distress fell upon her； at his so
often calling her a child。 She was surprised that he should see it； or
think of such a slight thing； but he said directly： 'I wanted a tender
word； and could think of no other。 As you just now gave yourself the
name they give you at my mother's； and as that is the name by which I
always think of you； let me call you Little Dorrit。'
'Thank you； sir； I should like it better than any name。'
'Little Dorrit。'
'Little mother；' Maggy （who had been falling asleep） put in； as a
correction。
'It's all the same； Maggy；' returned Little Dorrit； 'all the same。'
'Is it all the same； mother？'
'Just the same。'
Maggy laughed； and immediately snored。 In Little Dorrit's eyes and ears；
the uncouth figure and the uncouth sound were as pleasant as could be。
There was a glow of pride in her big child； overspreading her face； when
it again met the eyes of the grave brown gentleman。 She wondered what he
was thinking of； as he looked at Maggy and her。 She thought what a
good father he would be。 How； with some such look； he would counsel and
cherish his daughter。
'What I was going to tell you； sir；' said Little Dorrit； 'is； that MY
brother is at large。'
Arthur was rejoiced to hear it； and hoped he would do well。
'And what I was going to tell you； sir；' said Little Dorrit； trembling
in all her little figure and in her voice； 'is； that I am not to know
whose generosity released him……am never to ask； and am never to be told；
and am never to thank that gentleman with all MY grateful heart！'
He would probably need no thanks； Clennam said。 Very likely he would be
thankful himself （and with reason）； that he had had the means and chance
of doing a little service to her； who well deserved a great one。
'And what I was going to say； sir； is；' said Little Dorrit； trembling
more and more； 'that if I knew him； and I might； I would tell him that
he can never； never know how I feel his goodness； and how my good father
would feel it。 And what I was going to say； sir； is； that if I knew him；
and I might……but I don't know him and I must not……I know that！……I would
tell him that I shall never any more lie down to sleep without having
prayed to Heaven to bless him and reward him。 And if I knew him； and I
might； I would go down on my knees to him； and take his hand and kiss
it and ask him not to draw it away； but to leave it……O to leave it for a
moment……and let my thankful tears fall on it； for I have no other thanks
to give him！'
Little Dorrit had put his hand to her lips； and would have kneeled to
him； but he gently prevented her； and replaced her in her chair。
Her eyes； and the tones of her voice； had thanked him far better than
she thought。 He posedly as usual；
'There； Little Dorrit； there； there； there！ We will suppose that you did
know this person； and that you might do all this； and that it was all
done。 And now tell me； Who am quite another person……who am nothing
more than the friend who begged you to trust him……why you are out at
midnight； and what it is that brings you so far through the streets
at this late hour； my slight； delicate；' child was on his lips again；
'Little Dorrit！'
'Maggy and I have been to…night；' she answered； subduing herself with
the quiet effort that had long been natural to her； 'to the theatre
where my sister is engaged。'
'And oh ain't it a Ev'nly place；' suddenly interrupted Maggy； who seemed
to have the power of going to sleep and waking up whenever she chose。
'Almost as good as a hospital。 Only there ain't no Chicking in it。'
Here she shook herself； and fell asleep again。
'We went there；' said Little Dorrit； glancing at her charge； 'because
I like sometimes to know； of my own knowledge； that my sister is doing
well； and like to see her there； with my own eyes； when neither she nor
Uncle is aware。 It is very seldom indeed that I can do that； because
when I am not out at work； I am with my father； and even when I am out
at work； I hurry home to him。 But I pretend to…night that I am at a
party。'
As she made the confession； timidly hesitating； she raised her eyes to
the face； and read its expression so plainly that she answered it。 'Oh
no； certainly！ I never was at a party in my life。' She paused a little
under his attentive look； and then said； 'I hope there is no harm in it。
I could never have been of any use； if I had not pretended a little。'
She feared that he was blaming her in his mind for so devising to
contrive for them； think for them； and watch over them； without their
knowledge or gratitude； perhaps even with their reproaches for supposed
neglect。 But what was really in his mind； was the weak figure with its
strong purpose； the thin worn shoes； the insufficient dress； and the
pretence of recreation and enjoyment。 He asked where the suppositious
party was？ At a place where she worked； answered Little Dorrit；
blushing。 She had said ve