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get on at all。 As soon as I begin to plan； and think； and try； all my
planning； thinking； and trying go in old directions； and I begin to feel
careful again about the expenses of the day； and about my dear father；
and about my work； and then I remember with a start that there are no
such cares left； and that in itself is so new and improbable that it
sets me wandering again。 I should not have the courage to mention this
to any one but you。
It is the same with all these new countries and wonderful sights。
They are very beautiful； and they astonish me； but I am not collected
enough……not familiar enough with myself； if you can quite understand
what I mean……to have all the pleasure in them that I might have。 What
I knew before them； blends with them； too； so curiously。 For instance；
when we were among the mountains； I often felt （I hesitate to tell such
an idle thing； dear Mr Clennam； even to you） as if the Marshalsea must
be behind that great rock； or as if Mrs Clennam's room where I have
worked so many days； and where I first saw you； must be just beyond that
snow。 Do you remember one night when I came with Maggy to your lodging
in Covent Garden？ That room I have often and often fancied I have seen
before me； travelling along for miles by the side of our carriage； when
I have looked out of the carriage…window after dark。 We were shut out
that night； and sat at the iron gate； and walked about till morning。
I often look up at the stars； even from the balcony of this room； and
believe that I am in the street again； shut out with Maggy。 It is the
same with people that I left in England。
When I go about here in a gondola； I surprise myself looking into other
gondolas as if I hoped to see them。 It would overe me with joy to
see them； but I don't think it would surprise me much； at first。 In my
fanciful times； I fancy that they might be anywhere； and I almost expect
to see their dear faces on the bridges or the quays。
Another difficulty that I have will seem very strange to you。 It must
seem very strange to any one but me； and does even to me： I often feel
the old sad pity for……I need not write the word……for him。 Changed as he
is； and inexpressibly blest and thankful as I always am to know it； the
old sorrowful feeling of passion es upon me sometimes with such
strength that I want to put my arms round his neck； tell him how I love
him； and cry a little on his breast。 I should be glad after that； and
proud and happy。 But I know that I must not do this； that he would not
like it； that Fanny would be angry； that Mrs General would be amazed；
and so I quiet myself。 Yet in doing so； I struggle with the feeling that
I have e to be at a distance from him； and that even in the midst of
all the servants and attendants； he is deserted； and in want of me。
Dear Mr Clennam； I have written a great deal about myself； but I must
write a little more still； or what I wanted most of all to say in this
weak letter would be left out of it。 In all these foolish thoughts of
mine； which I have been so hardy as to confess to you because I know you
will understand me if anybody can； and will make more allowance for me
than anybody else would if you cannot……in all these thoughts； there is
one thought scarcely ever……never……out of my memory； and that is that
I hope you sometimes； in a quiet moment； have a thought for me。 I must
tell you that as to this； I have felt； ever since I have been away； an
anxiety which I am very anxious to relieve。 I have been afraid that you
may think of me in a new light； or a new character。 Don't do that； I
could not bear that……it would make me more unhappy than you can suppose。
It would break my heart to believe that you thought of me in any way
that would make me stranger to you than I was when you were so good to
me。 What I have to pray and entreat of you is； that you will never think
of me as the daughter of a rich person； that you will never think of me
as dressing any better； or living any better； than when you first
knew me。 That you will remember me only as the little shabby girl you
protected with so much tenderness； from whose threadbare dress you have
kept away the rain； and whose wet feet you have dried at your fire。
That you will think of me （when you think of me at all）； and of my true
affection and devoted gratitude； always without change； as of your poor
child； LITTLE DORRIT。
P。S。……Particularly remember that you are not to be uneasy about Mrs
Gowan。 Her words were； 'Very well and very happy。' And she looked most
beautiful。
CHAPTER 5。 Something Wrong Somewhere
The family had been a month or two at Venice； when Mr Dorrit； who was
much among Counts and Marquises； and had but scant leisure； set an hour
of one day apart； beforehand； for the purpose of holding some conference
with Mrs General。
The time he had reserved in his mind arriving； he sent Mr Tinkler； his
valet； to Mrs General's apartment （which would have absorbed about a
third of the area of the Marshalsea）； to present his pliments to that
lady； and represent him as desiring the favour of an interview。 It being
that period of the forenoon when the various members of the family had
coffee in their own chambers； some couple of hours before assembling at
breakfast in a faded hall which had once been sumptuous； but was now
the prey of watery vapours and a settled melancholy； Mrs General was
accessible to the valet。 That envoy found her on a little square of
carpet； so extremely diminutive in reference to the size of her stone
and marble floor that she looked as if she might have had it spread for
the trying on of a ready…made pair of shoes； or as if she had e into
possession of the enchanted piece of carpet； bought for forty purses by
one of the three princes in the Arabian Nights； and had that moment been
transported on it； at a wish； into a palatial saloon with which it had
no connection。
Mrs General； replying to the envoy； as she set down her empty
coffee…cup； that she was willing at once to proceed to Mr Dorrit's
apartment； and spare him the trouble of ing to her （which； in his
gallantry； he had proposed）； the envoy threw open the door； and
escorted Mrs General to the presence。 It ysterious
staircases and corridors； from Mrs General's apartment；……hoodwinked by
a narrow side street with a low gloomy bridge in it； and dungeon…like
opposite tenements； their walls besmeared with a thousand downward
stains and streaks； as if every crazy aperture in them had been weeping
tears of rust into the Adriatic for centuries……to Mr Dorrit's apartment：
with a whole English house…front of window； a prospect of beautiful
church…domes rising into the blue sky sheer out of the water which
reflected them； and a hushed murmur of the Grand Canal laving the
doorways below； where his gondolas and gondoliers attended his pleasure；
drowsily swinging in a little forest of piles。
Mr Dorrit； in a resplendent dressing…gown and cap……the dormant grub that
had so long bided its time among the Collegians had burst into a rare
butterfly……rose to receive Mrs General。 A chair to Mrs General。 An
easier chair； sir； what are you doing； what are you about； what do you
mean？ Now； leave us！
'Mrs General；' said Mr Dorrit； 'I took the liberty……'
'By no means；' Mrs General interposed。 'I was quite at your disposition。
I had had my coffee。'
'……I took the liberty；' said Mr Dorrit again； with the magnificent
placidity of one who was above correction； 'to solicit the favour of
a little private conversation with you； because I feel rather worried
respecting my……ha……my younger daughter。 You will have observed a great
difference of temperament； madam； between my two daughters？'
Said Mrs General in response； crossing her gloved hands （she was never
without gloves； and they never creased and always fitted）； 'There is a
great difference。'
'May I ask to be favoured with your view of it？' said Mr Dorrit； with a
deference not inpatible with majestic serenity。
'Fanny；' returned Mrs General； 'has force of character and
self…reliance。 Amy； none。'
None？ O Mrs General； ask the Marshalsea stones and bars。 O Mrs General；
ask the milliner who taught her to work； and the dancing…master who
taught her sister to dance。 O Mrs General； Mrs General； ask me； her
father； what I owe her； and hear my testimony touching the life of this
slighted little creature from her childhood up！
No such adjuration entered Mr。 Dorrit's head。 He looked at Mrs
General； seated in her usual erect attitude on her coach…box behind the
proprieties； and he said in a thoughtful manner； 'True； madam。'
'I would not；' said Mrs General； 'be understood to say； observe；
that there is nothing to improve in Fanny。 But there is material
there……perhaps； indeed； a little too much。'
'Will you be kind enough； madam；' said Mr Dorrit； 'to be……ha……more
explicit？ I do not quite understand my elder daughter's having……hum……too
much material。 What material？'
'Fanny；' returned Mrs General； 'at present forms too many opinions。
Perfect breeding forms none； and is never demonstrative。'
Lest he himself should be found deficient in perfect breeding； Mr Dorrit
hastened to reply； 'Unquestionably； madam； you are right。' Mrs General
returned； in her emotionless and expressionless manner； 'I believe so。'
'But you are aware； my dear madam；' said Mr Dorrit； 'that my daughters
had the misfortune to lose their lamented mother when they were very
young； and that； in consequence of my not having been until lately
the recognised heir to my property； they have lived with me as
a paratively poor； though always proud； gentleman； in……ha
hum……retirement！'
'I do not；' said Mrs General； 'lose sight of the circumstance。'
'Madam；'pursued Mr Dorrit； 'of my daughter Fanny； under her present
guidance and with such an example constantly before her……'
（Mrs General shut her eyes。）……'I have no misgivings。 There is
adaptability of character in Fanny。 But my younger daughter； Mrs
General； rather worries and vexes my thoughts。 I must inform you that
she has always been my favourite。'
'There is no accounting；' said Mrs General； 'for these partialities。'
'Ha……no；' assented Mr Dorrit。 'No。 Now； madam； I am troubled by noticing
that Amy is not； so to speak； one of ourselves。 She does not Care to go
about with us； she is lost in the society we have here； our tastes
are evidently not her tastes。 Which；' said Mr Dorrit； summing up with
judicial gravity； 'is to say； in other words； that there is something
wrong in……ha……Amy。'
'May we incline to the supposition；' said Mrs General； with a little
touch of varnish； 'that something is referable to the novelty of the
position？'
'Excuse me； madam；' observed Mr Dorrit； rather quickly。 'The daughter
of a gentleman； though……ha……himself at one time paratively far from
affluent……paratively……and herself reared in……hum……retirement； need
not of necessity find this position so very novel。'
'True；' said Mrs General； 'true。'
'Therefore； madam；' said Mr Dorrit； 'I took the liberty' （he laid an
emphasis on the phrase and repeated it； as though he stipulated； with
urbane firmness； that he must not be contradicted again）； 'I took the
liberty of requesting this interview； in order that I might mention the
topic to you； and inquire how you would advise me？'
'Mr Dorrit；' returned Mrs General； 'I have conversed with Amy several
times since we have been residing here； on the general subject of the
formation of a demeanour。 She has expressed herself to me as wondering
exceedingly at Venice。 I have mentioned to her that it is better not to
wonder。 I have pointed out to her that the celebrated Mr Eustace； the
classical tourist； did not think much of it； and that he pared the
Rialto； greatly to its disadvantage； with Westminster and Blackfriars
Bridges。 I need not add； after what you have said； that I have not yet
found my arguments successful。 You do me the honour to ask me what to
advise。 It always appears to me （if this should prove to be a baseless
assumption； I shall be pardoned）； that Mr Dorrit has been accustomed to
exercise influence over the minds of others。'
'Hum……madam；' said Mr Dorrit； 'I have been at the head of……ha of
a considerable munity。 You are