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, Young John?'
'Thank you, sir, she's not quite as well as we could wish--in fact, we
none of us are, except father--but she's pretty well, sir.' 'Say we sent
our remembrances, will you? Say kind remembrances, if you please, Young
John.' 'Thank you, sir, I will.' And Mr Chivery junior went his way, having
spontaneously composed on the spot an entirely new epitaph for himself,
to the effect that Here lay the body of John Chivery, Who, Having
at such a date, Beheld the idol of his life, In grief and tears, And
feeling unable to bear the harrowing spectacle, Immediately repaired to
the abode of his inconsolable parents, And terminated his existence by
his own rash act.