d still continued to
do so. Edward, beyond opening his mouth in amazement, had not opened his
lips, and had done nothing but stare. Mr Dorrit also had been utterly
discomfited, and quite unable to assert himself in any way. Fanny was
now the first to speak.

'I never, never, never was so used!' she sobbed. 'There never was
anything so harsh and unjustifiable, so disgracefully violent and cruel!
Dear, kind, quiet little Amy, too, what would she feel if she could know
that she had been innocently the means of exposing me to such treatment!
But I'll never tell her! No, good darling, I'll never tell her!'

This helped Mr Dorrit to break his silence.

'My dear,' said he, 'I--ha--approve of your resolution. It will be--ha
hum--much better not to speak of this to Amy. It might--hum--it
might distress her. Ha. No doubt it would distress her greatly. It
is considerate and right to avoid doing so. We will--ha--keep this to
ourselves.'

'But the cruelty of Uncle!' cried Miss Fanny. 'O, I never can forgive
the wanton cruelty of Uncle!'

'My dear,' said Mr Dorrit, recovering his tone, though he remained
unusually pale, 'I must request you not to say so. You must remember
that your uncle is--ha--not what he formerly was. You must remember
that your uncle's state requires--hum--great forbearance from us, great
forbearance.'

'I am sure,' cried Fanny, piteously, 'it is only charitable to suppose
that there Must be something wrong in him somewhere, or he never could
have so attacked Me, of all the people in the world.'

'Fanny,' returned Mr Dorrit in a deeply fraternal tone, 'you know, with
his innumerable good points, what a--hum--wreck your uncle is; and, I
entreat you by the fondness that I have for him, and by the fidelity
that you know I have always shown him, to--ha--to draw your own
conclusions, and to spare my brotherly feelings.'

This ended the scene; Edward Dorrit, Esquire, saying nothing throughout,
but looking, to the last, perplexed and doubtful. Miss Fanny awakened
much affectionate uneasiness in her sister's mind that day by passing
the greater part of it in violent fits of embracing her, and in
alternately giving her brooches, and wishing herself dead.

CHAPTER 6. Something Right Somewhere

To be in the halting state of Mr Henry Gowan; to have left one of two
powers in disgust; to want the necessary qualifications for finding
promotion with another, and to be loitering moodily about on neutral
groun