y
failure teaches a man something, if he will learn; and you are too
sensible a man not to learn from this failure. So much for firstly.
Secondly. I was sorry you should have taken it so heavily to heart, and
reproached yourself so severely; I was travelling home night and day
to put matters right, with the assistance of our friend, when I fell in
with our friend as he has informed you. Thirdly. We two agreed, that,
after what you had undergone, after your distress of mind, and after
your illness, it would be a pleasant surprise if we could so far keep
quiet as to get things perfectly arranged without your knowledge, and
then come and say that all the affairs were smooth, that everything was
right, that the business stood in greater want of you than ever it did,
and that a new and prosperous career was opened before you and me as
partners. That's thirdly. But you know we always make an allowance for
friction, and so I have reserved space to close in. My dear Clennam,
I thoroughly confide in you; you have it in your power to be quite as
useful to me as I have, or have had, it in my power to be useful to you;
your old place awaits you, and wants you very much; there is nothing to
detain you here one half-hour longer.'

There was silence, which was not broken until Arthur had stood for some
time at the window with his back towards them, and until his little wife
that was to be had gone to him and stayed by him.

'I made a remark a little while ago,' said Daniel Doyce then, 'which I
am inclined to think was an incorrect one. I said there was nothing
to detain you here, Clennam, half an hour longer. Am I mistaken in
supposing that you would rather not leave here till to-morrow morning?
Do I know, without being very wise, where you would like to go, direct
from these walls and from this room?'

'You do,' returned Arthur. 'It has been our cherished purpose.'

'Very well!' said Doyce. 'Then, if this young lady will do me the honour
of regarding me for four-and-twenty hours in the light of a father, and
will take a ride with me now towards Saint Paul's Churchyard, I dare say
I know what we want to get there.'

Little Dorrit and he went out together soon afterwards, and Mr Meagles
lingered behind to say a word to his friend.

'I think, Arthur, you will not want Mother and me in the morning and
we will keep away. It might set Mother thinking about Pet; she's a
soft-hearted woman. She's best at the Cottage, and I'll stay ther