something else--except the water, which, following eternal
laws, tumbled and rolled from its glorious multitude of fountains.

Here it seemed to Little Dorrit that a change came over the Marshalsea
spirit of their society, and that Prunes and Prism got the upper hand.
Everybody was walking about St Peter's and the Vatican on somebody
else's cork legs, and straining every visible object through somebody
else's sieve. Nobody said what anything was, but everybody said what the
Mrs Generals, Mr Eustace, or somebody else said it was. The whole body
of travellers seemed to be a collection of voluntary human sacrifices,
bound hand and foot, and delivered over to Mr Eustace and his
attendants, to have the entrails of their intellects arranged according
to the taste of that sacred priesthood. Through the rugged remains
of temples and tombs and palaces and senate halls and theatres and
amphitheatres of ancient days, hosts of tongue-tied and blindfolded
moderns were carefully feeling their way, incessantly repeating Prunes
and Prism in the endeavour to set their lips according to the received
form. Mrs General was in her pure element. Nobody had an opinion. There
was a formation of surface going on around her on an amazing scale, and
it had not a flaw of courage or honest free speech in it.

Another modification of Prunes and Prism insinuated itself on Little
Dorrit's notice very shortly after their arrival. They received an early
visit from Mrs Merdle, who led that extensive department of life in the
Eternal City that winter; and the skilful manner in which she and Fanny
fenced with one another on the occasion, almost made her quiet sister
wink, like the glittering of small-swords.

'So delighted,' said Mrs Merdle, 'to resume an acquaintance so
inauspiciously begun at Martigny.'

'At Martigny, of course,' said Fanny. 'Charmed, I am sure!'

'I understand,' said Mrs Merdle, 'from my son Edmund Sparkler, that
he has already improved that chance occasion. He has returned quite
transported with Venice.'

'Indeed?' returned the careless Fanny. 'Was he there long?'

'I might refer that question to Mr Dorrit,' said Mrs Merdle, turning the
bosom towards that gentleman; 'Edmund having been so much indebted to
him for rendering his stay agreeable.'

'Oh, pray don't speak of it,' returned Fanny. 'I believe Papa had the
pleasure of inviting Mr Sparkler twice or thrice,--but it was nothing.
We had so many people about us, and kept such