I really am not.
But you are such a little oddity! You make one bite your head off,
when one wants to be soothing beyond everything. Didn't I tell you, you
dearest baby, that Edmund can't be trusted by himself? And don't you
know that he can't?'

'Yes, yes, Fanny. You said so, I know.'

'And you know it, I know,' retorted Fanny. 'Well, my precious child! If
he is not to be trusted by himself, it follows, I suppose, that I should
go with him?'

'It--seems so, love,' said Little Dorrit.

'Therefore, having heard the arrangements that are feasible to carry
out that object, am I to understand, dearest Amy, that on the whole you
advise me to make them?'

'It--seems so, love,' said Little Dorrit again.

'Very well,' cried Fanny with an air of resignation, 'then I suppose it
must be done! I came to you, my sweet, the moment I saw the doubt, and
the necessity of deciding. I have now decided. So let it be.'

After yielding herself up, in this pattern manner, to sisterly advice
and the force of circumstances, Fanny became quite benignant: as one
who had laid her own inclinations at the feet of her dearest friend, and
felt a glow of conscience in having made the sacrifice. 'After all, my
Amy,' she said to her sister, 'you are the best of small creatures, and
full of good sense; and I don't know what I shall ever do without you!'

With which words she folded her in a closer embrace, and a really fond
one.

'Not that I contemplate doing without You, Amy, by any means, for I hope
we shall ever be next to inseparable. And now, my pet, I am going
to give you a word of advice. When you are left alone here with Mrs
General--'

'I am to be left alone here with Mrs General?' said Little Dorrit,
quietly.

'Why, of course, my precious, till papa comes back! Unless you call
Edward company, which he certainly is not, even when he is here, and
still more certainly is not when he is away at Naples or in Sicily. I
was going to say--but you are such a beloved little Marplot for putting
one out--when you are left alone here with Mrs General, Amy, don't you
let her slide into any sort of artful understanding with you that she is
looking after Pa, or that Pa is looking after her. She will if she can.
I know her sly manner of feeling her way with those gloves of hers. But
don't you comprehend her on any account. And if Pa should tell you when
he comes back, that he has it in contemplation to make Mrs General your
mama (which is not the