按键盘上方向键 ← 或 → 可快速上下翻页，按键盘上的 Enter 键可回到本书目录页，按键盘上方向键 ↑ 可回到本页顶部！
————未阅读完？加入书签已便下次继续阅读！
now。'
Young John dolefully protested that he would try to bear it in mind； and
would be heartily glad to do anything she wished。
'As to me；' said Little Dorrit； 'think as little of me as you can； the
less； the better。 When you think of me at all； John； let it only be as
the child you have seen grow up in the prison with one set of duties
always occupying her； as a weak； retired； contented； unprotected girl。 I
particularly want you to remember； that when I e outside the gate； I
am unprotected and solitary。'
He would try to do anything she wished。 But why did Miss Amy so much
want him to remember that？
'Because；' returned Little Dorrit； 'I know I can then quite trust you
not to forget to…day； and not to say any more to me。 You are so generous
that I know I can trust to you for that； and I do and I always will。 I
am going to show you； at once； that I fully trust you。 I like this place
where we are speaking better than any place I know；' her slight colour
had faded； but her lover thought he saw it ing back just then； 'and I
may be often here。 I know it is only necessary for me to tell you so； to
be quite sure that you will never e here again in search of me。 And I
am……quite sure！'
She might rely upon it； said Young John。 He was a miserable wretch； but
her word was more than a law for him。
'And good…bye； John；' said Little Dorrit。 'And I hope you will have a
good wife one day； and be a happy man。 I am sure you will deserve to be
happy； and you will be； John。'
As she held out her hand to him with these words； the heart that was
under the waistcoat of sprigs……mere slop…work； if the truth must be
known……swelled to the size of the heart of a gentleman； and the poor
mon little fellow； having no room to hold it； burst into tears。
'Oh； don't cry；' said Little Dorrit piteously。 'Don't； don't！ Good…bye；
John。 God bless you！'
'Good…bye； Miss Amy。 Good…bye！'
And so he left her： first observing that she sat down on the corner of a
seat； and not only rested her little hand upon the rough wall； but laid
her face against it too； as if her head were heavy； and her mind were
sad。 It was an affecting illustration of the fallacy of human projects；
to behold her lover； with the great hat pulled over his eyes； the velvet
collar turned up as if it rained； the plum…coloured coat buttoned
to conceal the silken waistcoat of golden sprigs； and the little
direction…post pointing inexorably home； creeping along by the worst
back…streets； and posing； as he went； the following new inscription
for a tombstone in St George's Churchyard：
'Here lie the mortal remains Of JOHN CHIVERY； Never anything worth
mentioning； Who died about the end of the year one thousand eight
hundred and twenty…six； Of a broken heart； Requesting with his last
breath that the word AMY might be inscribed over his ashes； which was
accordingly directed to be done； By his afflicted Parents。'
CHAPTER 19。 The Father of the Marshalsea in two or three Relations
The brothers William and Frederick Dorrit； walking up and down the
College…yard……of course on the aristocratic or Pump side； for the Father
made it a point of his state to be chary of going among his children
on the Poor side； except on Sunday mornings； Christmas Days； and other
occasions of ceremony； in the observance whereof he was very punctual；
and at which times he laid his hand upon the heads of their infants；
and blessed those young insolvents with a benignity that was highly
edifying……the brothers； walking up and down the College…yard together；
were a memorable sight。 Frederick the free； was so humbled； bowed；
withered； and faded； William the bond； was so courtly； condescending；
and benevolently conscious of a position； that in this regard only； if
in no other； the brothers were a spectacle to wonder at。
They walked up and down the yard on the evening of Little Dorrit's
Sunday interview with her lover on the Iron Bridge。 The cares of state
were over for that day； the Drawing Room had been well attended； several
new presentations had taken place； the three…and…sixpence accidentally
left on the table had accidentally increased to twelve shillings； and
the Father of the Marshalsea refreshed himself with a whiff of cigar。 As
he walked up and down； affably acmodating his step to the shuffle of
his brother； not proud in his superiority； but considerate of that poor
creature； bearing with him； and breathing toleration of his infirmities
in every little puff of smoke that issued from his lips and aspired to
get over the spiked wall； he was a sight to wonder at。
His brother Frederick of the dim eye； palsied hand； bent form； and
groping mind； submissively shuffled at his side； accepting his patronage
as he accepted every incident of the labyrinthian world in which he had
got lost。 He held the usual screwed bit of whitey…brown paper in his
hand； from which he ever and again unscrewed a spare pinch of snuff。
That falteringly taken； he would glance at his brother not unadmiringly；
put his hands behind him； and shuffle on so at his side until he took
another pinch； or stood still to look about him……perchance suddenly
missing his clario。 The College visitors were melting away as
the shades of night drew on； but the yard was still pretty full； the
Collegians being mostly out； seeing their friends to the Lodge。 As the
brothers paced the yard； William the bond looked about him to receive
salutes； returned them by graciously lifting off his hat； and； with
an engaging air； prevented Frederick the free from running against the
pany； or being jostled against the wall。 The Collegians as a body
were not easily impressible； but even they； according to their various
ways of wondering； appeared to find in the two brothers a sight to
wonder at。
'You are a little low this evening； Frederick；' said the Father of the
Marshalsea。 'Anything the matter？'
'The matter？' He stared for a moment； and then dropped his head and eyes
again。 'No； William； no。 Nothing is the matter。'
'If you could be persuaded to smarten yourself up a little； Frederick……'
'Aye； aye！' said the old man hurriedly。 'But I can't be。 I can't be。
Don't talk so。 That's all over。'
The Father of the Marshalsea glanced at a passing Collegian with whom he
was on friendly terms； as who should say； 'An enfeebled old man； this；
but he is my brother； sir； my brother； and the voice of Nature is
potent！' and steered his brother clear of the handle of the pump by the
threadbare sleeve。 Nothing would have been wanting to the perfection of
his character as a fraternal guide； philosopher and friend； if he had
only steered his brother clear of ruin； instead of bringing it upon him。
'I think； William；' said the object of his affectionate consideration；
'that I am tired； and will go home to bed。'
'My dear Frederick；' returned the other； 'don't let me detain you； don't
sacrifice your inclination to me。'
'Late hours； and a heated atmosphere； and years； I suppose；' said
Frederick； 'weaken me。'
'My dear Frederick；' returned the Father of the Marshalsea； 'do you
think you are sufficiently careful of yourself？ Do you think your habits
are as precise and methodical as……shall I say as mine are？ Not to revert
again to that little eccentricity which I mentioned just now； I doubt if
you take air and exercise enough； Frederick。 Here is the parade； always
at your service。 Why not use it more regularly than you do？'
'Hah！' sighed the other。 'Yes； yes； yes； yes。'
'But it is of no use saying yes； yes； my dear Frederick；' the Father
of the Marshalsea in his mild wisdom persisted； 'unless you act on that
assent。 Consider my case； Frederick。 I am a kind of example。 Necessity
and time have taught me what to do。 At certain stated hours of the day；
you will find me on the parade； in my room； in the Lodge； reading the
paper； receiving pany； eating and drinking。 I have impressed upon Amy
during many years； that I must have my meals （for instance） punctually。
Amy has grown up in a sense of the importance of these arrangements； and
you know what a good girl she is。'
The brother only sighed again； as he plodded dreamily along； 'Hah！ Yes；
yes； yes； yes。'
'My dear fellow；' said the Father of the Marshalsea； laying his hand
upon his shoulder； and mildly rallying him……mildly； because of his
weakness； poor dear soul； 'you said that before； and it does not express
much； Frederick； even if it means much。 I wish I could rouse you； my
good Frederick； you want to be roused。'
'Yes； William； yes。 No doubt；' returned the other； lifting his dim eyes
to his face。 'But I am not like you。'
The Father of the Marshalsea said； with a shrug of modest
self…depreciation； 'Oh！ You might be like me； my dear Frederick；
you might be； if you chose！' and forbore； in the magnanimity of his
strength； to press his fallen brother further。
There was a great deal of leave…taking going on in corners； as was usual
on Sunday nights； and here and there in the dark； some poor woman； wife
or mother； was weeping with a new Collegian。 The time had been when the
Father himself had wept； in the shades of that yard； as his own
poor wife had wept。 But it was many years ago； and now he was like