Крихітка Дорріт

Chapter 13. Patriarchal

           

           ‘Therewasatime,’saidMrCasby,‘whenyourparentsandmyselfwerenotonfriendlyterms.Therewasalittlefamilymisunderstandingamongus.Yourrespectedmotherwasratherjealousofherson,maybe;whenIsayherson,Imeanyourworthyself,yourworthyself.’

           Hissmoothfacehadabloomuponitlikeripewall-fruit.Whatwithhisbloomingface,andthathead,andhisblueeyes,heseemedtobedeliveringsentimentsofrarewisdomandvirtue.Inlikemanner,hisphysiognomicalexpressionseemedtoteemwithbenignity.Nobodycouldhavesaidwherethewisdomwas,orwherethevirtuewas,orwherethebenignitywas;buttheyallseemedtobesomewhereabouthim.

           ‘Thosetimes,however,’pursuedMrCasby,‘arepastandgone,pastandgone.Idomyselfthepleasureofmakingavisittoyourrespectedmotheroccasionally,andofadmiringthefortitudeandstrengthofmindwithwhichshebearshertrials,bearshertrials.’

           Whenhemadeoneoftheselittlerepetitions,sittingwithhishandscrossedbeforehim,hediditwithhisheadononeside,andagentlesmile,asifhehadsomethinginhisthoughtstoosweetlyprofoundtobeputintowords.Asifhedeniedhimselfthepleasureofutteringit,lestheshouldsoartoohigh;andhismeeknessthereforepreferredtobeunmeaning.

           ‘Ihaveheardthatyouwerekindenoughononeofthoseoccasions,’saidArthur,catchingattheopportunityasitdriftedpasthim,‘tomentionLittleDorrittomymother.’

           ‘Little—?Dorrit?That’stheseamstresswhowasmentionedtomebyasmalltenantofmine?Yes,yes.Dorrit?That’sthename.

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