Крихітка Дорріт

Chapter 31. Spirit

           

           ‘Oh!’AstheFatherglancedintotheletter(therewasabank-noteinit),hereddenedalittle,andpattedAmyontheheadafresh.‘Thankyou,YoungJohn.Quiteright.Muchobligedtoyouforyourattention.Noonewaiting?’

           ‘No,sir,noonewaiting.’

           ‘Thankyou,John.Howisyourmother,YoungJohn?’

           ‘Thankyou,sir,she’snotquiteaswellaswecouldwish—infact,wenoneofusare,exceptfather—butshe’sprettywell,sir.’

           ‘Saywesentourremembrances,willyou?Saykindremembrances,ifyouplease,YoungJohn.’

           ‘Thankyou,sir,Iwill.’AndMrChiveryjuniorwenthisway,havingspontaneouslycomposedonthespotanentirelynewepitaphforhimself,totheeffectthatHerelaythebodyofJohnChivery,Who,Havingatsuchadate,Beheldtheidolofhislife,Ingriefandtears,Andfeelingunabletobeartheharrowingspectacle,Immediatelyrepairedtotheabodeofhisinconsolableparents,Andterminatedhisexistencebyhisownrashact.

           ‘There,there,Amy!’saidtheFather,whenYoungJohnhadclosedthedoor,‘letussaynomoreaboutit.’Thelastfewminuteshadimprovedhisspiritsremarkably,andhewasquitelightsome.‘Whereismyoldpensionerallthiswhile?Wemustnotleavehimbyhimselfanylonger,orhewillbegintosupposeheisnotwelcome,andthatwouldpainme.Willyoufetchhim,mychild,orshallI?’

           ‘Ifyouwouldn’tmind,father,’saidLittleDorrit,tryingtobringhersobbingtoaclose.

           ‘CertainlyIwillgo,mydear.Iforgot;youreyesareratherred.There!Cheerup,Amy.Don’tbeuneasyaboutme.

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