child. I will forget it as soon as I can. I,' with
hysterical cheerfulness, 'I--shall soon be able to dismiss it. It
is perfectly true, my dear, that I am always glad to see my old
pensioner--as such, as such--and that I do--ha--extend as much
protection and kindness to the--hum--the bruised reed--I trust I may so
call him without impropriety--as in my circumstances, I can. It is quite
true that this is the case, my dear child. At the same time, I preserve
in doing this, if I may--ha--if I may use the expression--Spirit.
Becoming Spirit. And there are some things which are,' he stopped to
sob, 'irreconcilable with that, and wound that--wound it deeply.

It is not that I have seen my good Amy attentive, and--ha--condescending
to my old pensioner--it is not that that hurts me. It is, if I am to
close the painful subject by being explicit, that I have seen my child,
my own child, my own daughter, coming into this College out of the
public streets--smiling! smiling!--arm in arm with--O my God, a livery!'

This reference to the coat of no cut and no time, the unfortunate
gentleman gasped forth, in a scarcely audible voice, and with his
clenched pocket-handkerchief raised in the air. His excited feelings
might have found some further painful utterance, but for a knock at the
door, which had been already twice repeated, and to which Fanny (still
wishing herself dead, and indeed now going so far as to add, buried)
cried 'Come in!'

'Ah, Young John!' said the Father, in an altered and calmed voice. 'What
is it, Young John?'

'A letter for you, sir, being left in the Lodge just this minute, and a
message with it, I thought, happening to be there myself, sir, I would
bring it to your room.' The speaker's attention was much distracted by
the piteous spectacle of Little Dorrit at her father's feet, with her
head turned away.

'Indeed, John? Thank you.'

'The letter is from Mr Clennam, sir--it's the answer--and the message
was, sir, that Mr Clennam also sent his compliments, and word that he
would do himself the pleasure of calling this afternoon, hoping to see
you, and likewise,' attention more distracted than before, 'Miss Amy.'

'Oh!' As the Father glanced into the letter (there was a bank-note in
it), he reddened a little, and patted Amy on the head afresh. 'Thank
you, Young John. Quite right. Much obliged to you for your attention. No
one waiting?'

'No, sir, no one waiting.'

'Thank you, John. How is your mother, You