'My sister, ma'am.' 'I am glad to see your sister, Miss Dorrit. I did not remember that you
had a sister.' 'I did not mention that I had,' said Fanny. 'Ah!'
Mrs Merdle curled the little finger of her left hand as who should
say, 'I have caught you. I know you didn't!' All her action was usually
with her left hand because her hands were not a pair; and left being
much the whiter and plumper of the two. Then she added: 'Sit down,' and
composed herself voluptuously, in a nest of crimson and gold cushions,
on an ottoman near the parrot. 'Also professional?' said Mrs Merdle, looking at Little Dorrit through
an eye-glass. Fanny answered No. 'No,' said Mrs Merdle, dropping her glass. 'Has not a
professional air. Very pleasant; but not professional.'
'My sister, ma'am,' said Fanny, in whom there was a singular mixture
of deference and hardihood, 'has been asking me to tell her, as between
sisters, how I came to have the honour of knowing you. And as I had
engaged to call upon you once more, I thought I might take the liberty
of bringing her with me, when perhaps you would tell her. I wish her to
know, and perhaps you will tell her?' 'Do you think, at your sister's
age--' hinted Mrs Merdle.
'She is much older than she looks,' said Fanny; 'almost as old as I am.'
'Society,' said Mrs Merdle, with another curve of her little finger,
'is so difficult to explain to young persons (indeed is so difficult to
explain to most persons), that I am glad to hear that.
I wish Society was not so arbitrary, I wish it was not so
exacting--Bird, be quiet!' The parrot had given a most piercing shriek, as if its name were Society
and it asserted its right to its exactions.
'But,' resumed Mrs Merdle, 'we must take it as we find it. We know it is
hollow and conventional and worldly and very shocking, but unless we
are Savages in the Tropical seas (I should have been charmed to be one
myself--most delightful life and perfect climate, I am told), we
must consult it. It is the common lot. Mr Merdle is a most extensive
merchant, his transactions are on the vastest scale, his wealth and
influence are very great, but even he--Bird, be quiet!'
The parrot had shrieked another shriek; and it filled up the sentence so
expressively that Mrs Merdle was under no necessity to end it.
'Since your sister begs that I would terminate our personal
acquaintance,' she began again, addressing Little Dorrit, 'by relating
the circumstances that are much to her credit, I cannot object to comply
with her request, I am sure. I have a son (I was first married extremely
young) of two or three-and-twenty.'