Little Dorrit - Page 89/462

'Oh very, very glad, sir!' 'Well, we will hope for him at least. You told me last night of a friend

you had?' His name was Plornish, Little Dorrit said.

And where did Plornish live? Plornish lived in Bleeding Heart Yard. He

was 'only a plasterer,' Little Dorrit said, as a caution to him not to

form high social expectations of Plornish. He lived at the last house in

Bleeding Heart Yard, and his name was over a little gateway. Arthur took

down the address and gave her his. He had now done all he sought to do

for the present, except that he wished to leave her with a reliance

upon him, and to have something like a promise from her that she would

cherish it. 'There is one friend!' he said, putting up his pocketbook. 'As I take

you back--you are going back?' 'Oh yes! going straight home.'

'As I take you back,' the word home jarred upon him, 'let me ask you to

persuade yourself that you have another friend. I make no professions,

and say no more.' 'You are truly kind to me, sir. I am sure I need no more.'

They walked back through the miserable muddy streets, and among the

poor, mean shops, and were jostled by the crowds of dirty hucksters

usual to a poor neighbourhood. There was nothing, by the short way, that

was pleasant to any of the five senses. Yet it was not a common passage

through common rain, and mire, and noise, to Clennam, having this

little, slender, careful creature on his arm. How young she seemed to

him, or how old he to her; or what a secret either to the other, in that

beginning of the destined interweaving of their stories, matters not

here.

He thought of her having been born and bred among these scenes,

and shrinking through them now, familiar yet misplaced; he thought

of her long acquaintance with the squalid needs of life, and of her

innocence; of her solicitude for others, and her few years, and her

childish aspect. They were come into the High Street, where the prison stood, when a

voice cried, 'Little mother, little mother!' Little Dorrit stopping and

looking back, an excited figure of a strange kind bounced against them

(still crying 'little mother'), fell down, and scattered the contents of

a large basket, filled with potatoes, in the mud.

'Oh, Maggy,' said Little Dorrit, 'what a clumsy child you are!'

Maggy was not hurt, but picked herself up immediately, and then began

to pick up the potatoes, in which both Little Dorrit and Arthur Clennam

helped. Maggy picked up very few potatoes and a great quantity of mud;

but they were all recovered, and deposited in the basket. Maggy then

smeared her muddy face with her shawl, and presenting it to Mr Clennam

as a type of purity, enabled him to see what she was like.