n the expression and direction of its genius,
learning, commerce, spirit, and sense. The land of Shakespeare, Milton,
Bacon, Newton, Watt, the land of a host of past and present abstract
philosophers, natural philosophers, and subduers of Nature and Art in
their myriad forms, called to Mr Sparkler to come and take care of it,
lest it should perish. Mr Sparkler, unable to resist the agonised cry
from the depths of his country's soul, declared that he must go.

It followed that the question was rendered pressing when, where, and
how Mr Sparkler should be married to the foremost girl in all this world
with no nonsense about her. Its solution, after some little mystery and
secrecy, Miss Fanny herself announced to her sister.

'Now, my child,' said she, seeking her out one day, 'I am going to tell
you something. It is only this moment broached; and naturally I hurry to
you the moment it IS broached.'

'Your marriage, Fanny?'

'My precious child,' said Fanny, 'don't anticipate me. Let me impart my
confidence to you, you flurried little thing, in my own way. As to your
guess, if I answered it literally, I should answer no. For really it is
not my marriage that is in question, half as much as it is Edmund's.'

Little Dorrit looked, and perhaps not altogether without cause, somewhat
at a loss to understand this fine distinction.

'I am in no difficulty,' exclaimed Fanny, 'and in no hurry. I am not
wanted at any public office, or to give any vote anywhere else.

But Edmund is. And Edmund is deeply dejected at the idea of going away
by himself, and, indeed, I don't like that he should be trusted by
himself. For, if it's possible--and it generally is--to do a foolish
thing, he is sure to do it.'

As she concluded this impartial summary of the reliance that might be
safely placed upon her future husband, she took off, with an air of
business, the bonnet she wore, and dangled it by its strings upon the
ground.

'It is far more Edmund's question, therefore, than mine. However, we
need say no more about that. That is self-evident on the face of it.
Well, my dearest Amy! The point arising, is he to go by himself, or is
he not to go by himself, this other point arises, are we to be married
here and shortly, or are we to be married at home months hence?'

'I see I am going to lose you, Fanny.'

'What a little thing you are,' cried Fanny, half tolerant and half
impatient, 'for anticipating one! Pray, my darling, hear me out.