Little Dorrit - Page 323/462

They walked at a slow pace, and Little Dorrit took him by the Iron

Bridge and sat him down there for a rest, and they looked over at the

water and talked about the shipping, and the old man mentioned what he

would do if he had a ship full of gold coming home to him (his plan was

to take a noble lodging for the Plornishes and himself at a Tea Gardens,

and live there all the rest of their lives, attended on by the waiter),

and it was a special birthday of the old man. They were within five

minutes of their destination, when, at the corner of her own street,

they came upon Fanny in her new bonnet bound for the same port.

'Why, good gracious me, Amy!' cried that young lady starting. 'You never

mean it!' 'Mean what, Fanny dear?

' 'Well! I could have believed a great deal of you,' returned the young

lady with burning indignation, 'but I don't think even I could have

believed this, of even you!' 'Fanny!' cried Little Dorrit, wounded and astonished.

'Oh! Don't Fanny me, you mean little thing, don't! The idea of coming

along the open streets, in the broad light of day, with a Pauper!'

(firing off the last word as if it were a ball from an air-gun). 'O

Fanny!' 'I tell you not to Fanny me, for I'll not submit to it! I never knew

such a thing. The way in which you are resolved and determined to

disgrace us on all occasions, is really infamous. You bad little thing!'

'Does it disgrace anybody,' said Little Dorrit, very gently, 'to take

care of this poor old man?' 'Yes, miss,' returned her sister, 'and you ought to know it does.

And you do know it does, and you do it because you know it does. The

principal pleasure of your life is to remind your family of their

misfortunes. And the next great pleasure of your existence is to keep

low company. But, however, if you have no sense of decency, I

have.

You'll please to allow me to go on the other side of the way,

unmolested.' With this, she bounced across to the opposite pavement. The old

disgrace, who had been deferentially bowing a pace or two off (for

Little Dorrit had let his arm go in her wonder, when Fanny began), and

who had been hustled and cursed by impatient passengers for stopping the

way, rejoined his companion, rather giddy, and said, 'I hope nothing's

wrong with your honoured father, Miss? I hope there's nothing the matter

in the honoured family?' 'No, no,' returned Little Dorrit. 'No, thank you. Give me your arm

again, Mr Nandy. We shall soon be there now.'