Little Dorrit by Charles Dickens (suggested reading .TXT) 📕

person of the name of Clennam, whom he imperfectly remembered in some former state of existence) to blackball the name of Gowan finally, when Edward Dorrit, Esquire, came into the conversation, with his glass in his eye, and the preliminary remark of “I say⁠—you there! Go out, will you!”⁠—which was addressed to a couple of men who were handing the dishes round, as a courteous intimation that their services could be temporarily dispensed with.

Those menials having obeyed the mandate, Edward Dorrit, Esquire, proceeded.

“Perhaps it’s a matter of policy to let you all know that these Gowans⁠—in whose favour, or at least the gentleman’s, I can’t be supposed to be much prepossessed myself⁠—are known to people of importance, if that makes any difference.”

“That, I would say,” observed the fair varnisher, “Makes the greatest difference. The connection in question, being really people of importance and consideration⁠—”

“As to that,” said Edward Dorrit, Esquire, “I’ll give you the means of judging for yourself. You are acquainted, perhaps, with the famous name of Merdle?”

“The great Merdle!” exclaimed Mrs. General.

“The Merdle,” said Edward Dorrit, Esquire. “They are known to him. Mrs. Gowan⁠—I mean the dowager, my polite friend’s mother⁠—is intimate with Mrs. Merdle, and I know these two to be on their visiting list.”

“If so, a more undeniable guarantee could not be given,” said Mrs. General to Mr. Dorrit, raising her gloves and bowing her head, as if she were doing homage to some visible graven image.

“I beg to ask my son, from motives of⁠—ah⁠—curiosity,” Mr. Dorrit observed, with a decided change in his manner, “how he becomes possessed of this⁠—hum⁠—timely information?”

“It’s not a long story, sir,” returned Edward Dorrit, Esquire, “and you shall have it out of hand. To begin with, Mrs. Merdle is the lady you had the parley with at what’s-his-name place.”

“Martigny,” interposed Miss Fanny with an air of infinite languor.

“Martigny,” assented her brother, with a slight nod and a slight wink; in acknowledgment of which, Miss Fanny looked surprised, and laughed and reddened.

“How can that be, Edward?” said Mr. Dorrit. “You informed me that the name of the gentleman with whom you conferred was⁠—ha⁠—Sparkler. Indeed, you showed me his card. Hum. Sparkler.”

“No doubt of it, father; but it doesn’t follow that his mother’s name must be the same. Mrs. Merdle was married before, and he is her son. She is in Rome now; where probably we shall know more of her, as you decide to winter there. Sparkler is just come here. I passed last evening in company with Sparkler. Sparkler is a very good fellow on the whole, though rather a bore on one subject, in consequence of being tremendously smitten with a certain young lady.” Here Edward Dorrit, Esquire, eyed Miss Fanny through his glass across the table. “We happened last night to compare notes about our travels, and I had the information I have given you from Sparkler himself.” Here he ceased; continuing to eye Miss Fanny through his glass, with a face much twisted, and not ornamentally so, in part by the action of keeping his glass in his eye, and in part by the great subtlety of his smile.

“Under these circumstances,” said Mr. Dorrit, “I believe I express the sentiments of⁠—ha⁠—Mrs. General, no less than my own, when I say that there is no objection, but⁠—ha hum⁠—quite the contrary⁠—to your gratifying your desire, Amy. I trust I may⁠—ha⁠—hail⁠—this desire,” said Mr. Dorrit, in an encouraging and forgiving manner, “as an auspicious omen. It is quite right to know these people. It is a very proper thing. Mr. Merdle’s is a name of⁠—ha⁠—worldwide repute. Mr. Merdle’s undertakings are immense. They bring him in such vast sums of money that they are regarded as⁠—hum⁠—national benefits. Mr. Merdle is the man of this time. The name of Merdle is the name of the age. Pray do everything on my behalf that is civil to Mr. and Mrs. Gowan, for we will⁠—ha⁠—we will certainly notice them.”

This magnificent accordance of Mr. Dorrit’s recognition settled the matter. It was not observed that Uncle had pushed away his plate, and forgotten his breakfast; but he was not much observed at any time, except by Little Dorrit. The servants were recalled, and the meal proceeded to its conclusion. Mrs. General rose and left the table. Little Dorrit rose and left the table. When Edward and Fanny remained whispering together across it, and when Mr. Dorrit remained eating figs and reading a French newspaper, Uncle suddenly fixed the attention of all three by rising out of his chair, striking his hand upon the table, and saying, “Brother! I protest against it!”

If he had made a proclamation in an unknown tongue, and given up the ghost immediately afterwards, he could not have astounded his audience more. The paper fell from Mr. Dorrit’s hand, and he sat petrified, with a fig half way to his mouth.

“Brother!” said the old man, conveying a surprising energy into his trembling voice, “I protest against it! I love you; you know I love you dearly. In these many years I have never been untrue to you in a single thought. Weak as I am, I would at any time have struck any man who spoke ill of you. But, brother, brother, brother, I protest against it!”

It was extraordinary to see of what a burst of earnestness such a decrepit man was capable. His eyes became bright, his grey hair rose on his head, markings of purpose on his brow and face which had faded from them for five-and-twenty years, started out again, and there was an energy in his hand that made its action nervous once more.

“My dear Frederick!” exclaimed Mr. Dorrit faintly. “What is wrong? What is the matter?”

“How dare you,” said the old man, turning round on Fanny, “how dare you do it? Have you no memory? Have you no heart?”

“Uncle?” cried Fanny, affrighted and bursting into tears, “why do you attack me in this cruel manner? What have I done?”

“Done?” returned the old man, pointing to her sister’s place, “where’s your affectionate invaluable friend? Where’s your devoted guardian? Where’s your more than mother? How dare you set up superiorities against all