where--she would find
herself stealthily supported round the waist by Mr Sparkler's arm. Mr
Sparkler never offered the slightest explanation of this attention;
but merely smiled with an air of blundering, contented, good-natured
proprietorship, which, in so heavy a gentleman, was ominously
expressive.

Little Dorrit was at home one day, thinking about Fanny with a heavy
heart. They had a room at one end of their drawing-room suite, nearly
all irregular bay-window, projecting over the street, and commanding
all the picturesque life and variety of the Corso, both up and down. At
three or four o'clock in the afternoon, English time, the view from this
window was very bright and peculiar; and Little Dorrit used to sit
and muse here, much as she had been used to while away the time in her
balcony at Venice. Seated thus one day, she was softly touched on the
shoulder, and Fanny said, 'Well, Amy dear,' and took her seat at her
side. Their seat was a part of the window; when there was anything in
the way of a procession going on, they used to have bright draperies
hung out of the window, and used to kneel or sit on this seat, and look
out at it, leaning on the brilliant colour. But there was no procession
that day, and Little Dorrit was rather surprised by Fanny's being at
home at that hour, as she was generally out on horseback then.

'Well, Amy,' said Fanny, 'what are you thinking of, little one?' 'I was
thinking of you, Fanny.'

'No? What a coincidence! I declare here's some one else. You were not
thinking of this some one else too; were you, Amy?'

Amy HAD been thinking of this some one else too; for it was Mr Sparkler.
She did not say so, however, as she gave him her hand. Mr Sparkler
came and sat down on the other side of her, and she felt the fraternal
railing come behind her, and apparently stretch on to include Fanny.

'Well, my little sister,' said Fanny with a sigh, 'I suppose you know
what this means?'

'She's as beautiful as she's doated on,' stammered Mr Sparkler--'and
there's no nonsense about her--it's arranged--'

'You needn't explain, Edmund,' said Fanny.

'No, my love,' said Mr Sparkler.

'In short, pet,' proceeded Fanny, 'on the whole, we are engaged. We
must tell papa about it either to-night or to-morrow, according to the
opportunities. Then it's done, and very little more need be said.'

'My dear Fanny,' said Mr Sparkler, with deference, 'I should like to say
a word to Amy.'

'Well, well! Sa