Little Dorrit - Page 222/462

Powder! There was so much Powder in waiting, that it flavoured the

dinner. Pulverous particles got into the dishes, and Society's meats had

a seasoning of first-rate footmen. Mr Merdle took down a countess who

was secluded somewhere in the core of an immense dress, to which she

was in the proportion of the heart to the overgrown cabbage. If so low a

simile may be admitted, the dress went down the staircase like a richly

brocaded Jack in the Green, and nobody knew what sort of small person

carried it. Society had everything it could want, and could not want, for dinner.

It had everything to look at, and everything to eat, and everything to

drink. It is to be hoped it enjoyed itself; for Mr Merdle's own share of

the repast might have been paid for with eighteenpence. Mrs Merdle was

magnificent. The chief butler was the next magnificent institution of

the day. He was the stateliest man in the company. He did nothing, but

he looked on as few other men could have done. He was Mr Merdle's

last gift to Society. Mr Merdle didn't want him, and was put out of

countenance when the great creature looked at him; but inappeasable

Society would have him--and had got him.

The invisible countess carried out the Green at the usual stage of

the entertainment, and the file of beauty was closed up by the bosom.

Treasury said, Juno. Bishop said, Judith.

Bar fell into discussion with Horse Guards concerning courts-martial.

Brothers Bellows and Bench struck in. Other magnates paired off. Mr

Merdle sat silent, and looked at the table-cloth. Sometimes a magnate

addressed him, to turn the stream of his own particular discussion

towards him; but Mr Merdle seldom gave much attention to it, or did more

than rouse himself from his calculations and pass the wine.

When they rose, so many of the magnates had something to say to Mr

Merdle individually that he held little levees by the sideboard, and

checked them off as they went out at the door.

Treasury hoped he might venture to congratulate one of England's

world-famed capitalists and merchant-princes (he had turned that

original sentiment in the house a few times, and it came easy to him) on

a new achievement. To extend the triumphs of such men was to extend

the triumphs and resources of the nation; and Treasury felt--he gave Mr

Merdle to understand--patriotic on the subject.

'Thank you, my lord,' said Mr Merdle; 'thank you. I accept your

congratulations with pride, and I am glad you approve.'

'Why, I don't unreservedly approve, my dear Mr Merdle. Because,'

smiling Treasury turned him by the arm towards the sideboard and spoke

banteringly, 'it never can be worth your while to come among us and help

us.' Mr Merdle felt honoured by the-