Little Dorrit - Page 52/462

Mr Flintwinch had been already rearranging and dusting his own

particular little office, as if to do honour to his accession to new

dignity. He resumed this occupation when he was replete with beef, had

sucked up all the gravy in the baking-dish with the flat of his knife,

and had drawn liberally on a barrel of small beer in the scullery. Thus

refreshed, he tucked up his shirt-sleeves and went to work again; and Mr

Arthur, watching him as he set about it, plainly saw that his father's

picture, or his father's grave, would be as communicative with him as

this old man.

'Now, Affery, woman,' said Mr Flintwinch, as she crossed the hall. 'You

hadn't made Mr Arthur's bed when I was up there last. Stir yourself.

Bustle.' But Mr Arthur found the house so blank and dreary, and was so unwilling

to assist at another implacable consignment of his mother's enemies

(perhaps himself among them) to mortal disfigurement and immortal ruin,

that he announced his intention of lodging at the coffee-house where he

had left his luggage. Mr Flintwinch taking kindly to the idea of getting

rid of him, and his mother being indifferent, beyond considerations of

saving, to most domestic arrangements that were not bounded by the walls

of her own chamber, he easily carried this point without new offence.

Daily business hours were agreed upon, which his mother, Mr Flintwinch,

and he, were to devote together to a necessary checking of books and

papers; and he left the home he had so lately found, with depressed

heart. But Little Dorrit?

The business hours, allowing for intervals of invalid regimen of oysters

and partridges, during which Clennam refreshed himself with a walk,

were from ten to six for about a fortnight. Sometimes Little Dorrit was

employed at her needle, sometimes not, sometimes appeared as a humble

visitor: which must have been her character on the occasion of his

arrival. His original curiosity augmented every day, as he watched for

her, saw or did not see her, and speculated about her. Influenced by his

predominant idea, he even fell into a habit of discussing with himself

the possibility of her being in some way associated with it. At last he

resolved to watch Little Dorrit and know more of her story.