Little Dorrit - Page 46/462

'I am deeply sensible, mother, that if this thought has never at any

time flashed upon you, it must seem cruel and unnatural in me, even in

this confidence, to breathe it. But I cannot shake it off.

Time and change (I have tried both before breaking silence) do nothing

to wear it out. Remember, I was with my father. Remember, I saw his face

when he gave the watch into my keeping, and struggled to express that he

sent it as a token you would understand, to you. Remember, I saw him at

the last with the pencil in his failing hand, trying to write some word

for you to read, but to which he could give no shape. The more

remote and cruel this vague suspicion that I have, the stronger the

circumstances that could give it any semblance of probability to me.

For Heaven's sake, let us examine sacredly whether there is any wrong

entrusted to us to set right. No one can help towards it, mother, but

you.' Still so recoiling in her chair that her overpoised weight moved it,

from time to time, a little on its wheels, and gave her the appearance

of a phantom of fierce aspect gliding away from him, she interposed her

left arm, bent at the elbow with the back of her hand towards her face,

between herself and him, and looked at him in a fixed silence.

'In grasping at money and in driving hard bargains--I have begun, and I

must speak of such things now, mother--some one may have been grievously

deceived, injured, ruined. You were the moving power of all this

machinery before my birth; your stronger spirit has been infused into

all my father's dealings for more than two score years. You can set

these doubts at rest, I think, if you will really help me to discover

the truth. Will you, mother?' He stopped in the hope that she would speak.

But her grey hair was not

more immovable in its two folds, than were her firm lips.

'If reparation can be made to any one, if restitution can be made to any

one, let us know it and make it. Nay, mother, if within my means, let ME

make it. I have seen so little happiness come of money; it has brought

within my knowledge so little peace to this house, or to any one

belonging to it, that it is worth less to me than to another. It can buy

me nothing that will not be a reproach and misery to me, if I am haunted

by a suspicion that it darkened my father's last hours with remorse, and

that it is not honestly and justly mine.' There was a bell-rope hanging

on the panelled wall, some two or three yards from the cabinet. By a

swift and sudden action of her foot, she drove her wheeled chair rapidly

back to it and pulled it violently--still holding her arm up in its

shield-like posture, as if he were striking at her, and she warding off

the blow. A girl came hurrying in, frightened.