Activate Javascript or update your browser for the full Digital Library experience.
Previous Page
–
Next Page
OCR
370 OHARLES1 ‘DI0‘KEMs"r‘ WORKS,
nomiuon staircase, 'and'it'is ncarly'allva large 'dull room,’
where Mr. Gowan‘ paints.‘ ‘.The windows are blockedup
where any one could look ‘out, and’ the walls have been
nll‘(II'i1WIl over with clm.lk'D.nd charcoal by others who
have lived there -before"-’oh,. I should think,-‘for years I
There is a. curtain‘ more ’ dust-colouredzthan‘ red; which
divides it, and the part behind the curtain makes the
private sitting-Lroom.‘ ‘lVhen I first saw I181; there she
was alone, and her work had fallen out of her hand, and
she was looking up‘ at the sky shining through theitops
of the windows. ' Pray do not be uneasy when I tell you,
but it was not quite so airy, nor so bright. D91‘? 50, 011691’-
ful, nor so ‘happy and youthful-altogether as 1‘ should
havelikedittobe."' ' ‘ ‘ i M’ - "
On account of Mr3Gowanpain1ng Papa's picture (which
I am not quite convinced I should have known from the
likeness if I had notseen him doing it), I have had more
opportunities of being with her since then, than I might”
have had without this fortunate chance. = She "is very
much alone; '?Very inuch'aloue indeed.‘ ""' = r 43%‘
7 Shall I tell you about theysecond time Isaw her? I
went one day, when it happened that I could run round
by myself, at four or five o'clock .in‘the afternoon. ’ She
wastlien dining alone, and her solitary dinner .had been
brought in from somewheife,‘ over a kind of brazier with‘
a fire in it, and shehad no company oriprospect of com-’
pany; that I could sec,"but the old man who had brought
it. ‘ He was telling her along story (of robbers outside
the walls, being taken up by a stone statue of a Saint),"
to entertain her-as he said to me when I came out,
5‘ because he had a'daughter of his own, though she was
not so pretty.” , r - 7 it ... . ., 2
; I ought now to mention Mi‘. Gowan, before I say what
little more Ijhave to say about her. nHe must admire’
her. beauty, and he must be proud of her. for everybody
praises it, and he must be fond of her, and I do not doubt
that lie is-but in his way.'p You know his way,'n,nd‘if
itappcars as careless and discontented in youreyes as it
does in mine, I am not wrong in thinking that it might
be better suited to her. If it does not seem so to you; I
am quite sure I am wholly mistaken '; for your unchanged
poor child confides in your knowledge and goodness more"
than she could‘ ever tell‘ you, -if she‘ was to try, But
don’t be frightened, I am not oing to try. -'
Owing (as I think,‘if you think so, too) to Mr. Gowan’s
unsettled and dissatisfied way, he applies himself to his
profession very little. ' He does nothing steadil or
patiently ; but equally takes things up and throws t ieni
down, and does tli'em,‘or‘1eavcs them‘undoue, without
, caring about them. lVlien I haveheard him talking’ to
Papa during the sittings for the picture, I have sat won-
dering whether it could be that he has no belief in any-
body else, because he‘has no belief in himself, 15 ifsoq
I wonder what you will say when you come to this I I
know how you will look, and I can almost hear the voice
in which you would tell me on the 'lron>Brid e.
‘Mr. Gowan goes out a good deal among 'w atis ‘con;
sidered the best company here-though he does not look
as if he enjoyed" it or liked it when he is with it--and she
sometimes accompanies him,'but lately she has 119 out
very ‘little. Ithinkl have noticed that they ave an
inconsistent way of- speakingiabout her, as if’ she had
made some great self-interested success in marryimr M,-
Gowan, though, at the same time, the very same pceople
would not have'dreame'd'of taking him for-‘themselves
or their daughters.“ Then he I es into thclcountry be’.
sides, to think about makin s retches ; and in all places
where there are visitors, he as'a large acquaintance and
is very well known. "Besides all,‘ this,‘ he has afriend‘
who is much‘ in his society both at home and away from
home, though he treats this friendyery coolly and is very
uncertainin his behaviour to him'.‘ - I am quite sure (be-
cause she has told me ‘sol,-that’ she does not like this
friend. He is‘ so. revolting‘ to me, too,‘ that his being
away from here, at rescnt,'1s quitearelief to my mind,
Ilowrnuch more to ersi ‘ . ‘ ' = ;
But what I particularly want you'to know, and why I
have resolved to tell you so much even while I am afraid
it may make you a little uncomfortable without occasion,’
is this. She is so true and so devoted, and knows so
completely that all her love and duty are his for ever,
thatyou may be certain she will love him, admire him,
raise him,‘ and‘con'ceal‘all his faults‘; until "sli'e"dies'. ‘ I
helieve sheconceals them, and always willconceal them,
even from herself.’ She'lia‘s given him aheart-that'can
never be taken back ;V and however much he inaytry it,
he-willnever wear ont‘its affection.” You know the truth
of this, as'you'know.c'verytliing,' far -far ‘better than‘I ;
but I cannot help telling you what a nature she shows,
and that you'cau never think too’ well of her." ' '“‘ W‘
'1 have not yet called lier=by her name in this ‘letter.
but we aresuch friends ;now'that”I' do so wl:en'we are
quietly together, iindshe‘ speaks to’ me '-by my name’-‘I
mean,'not‘ my Christian ‘name; but the nameiyoui gave
me. ' Whenshe began to ‘call ‘mevAmy, Itold her my
short storygand that you had always ‘called ‘me’ Little
Dorrit. ."I told her thatthe name was muclrdezirer tome
than any other, and so she calls me Little Dorritvtoo’. -', "
“Perhaps you have not heard from lierfather or mother
yet,’ and may not know that she has ' a baby son. ‘He
was born only two'days'ago,"and ’ just a week after 3' they
came.‘ "It has made them very ha py. 'Ilowe've'i-,"I"r‘nust
tell you, 'as I am to tell you’all,’that I'fancy they are un-
der a constraint with Mr. Gowan,'nnd tliat‘tliey feel as
if 'his‘mocking w'ay'with them was sometimes a slight
giventto their love for her.‘-‘It was but yesterday, when I
was there,‘ that Isaw Mr. ‘Meagles change colour, and get
up and go out, as if he was afraid that lit3(n1lgl1t‘Sn)‘ so.
unless he prevented himself by that iiieans. " Yet I am
sure they are both so considerate, good huinou‘r‘ed,- and
re'aso'nable','that' he might spare them.‘ ‘Itis hard in:him
not to think of them a little rriorefz > -h ‘ ‘ ‘
I stopped-at the last full stop to read ' all this over.‘ ' ‘It
‘ looked at first as if I was taking on myself to understand
and explain so much, that I was half inclined not to send
it. 5. But when I ‘had thought it over a little, I felt more
hopeful of your knowing at once that‘I had only been
watchtul for you, and"had only noticcd'wbat>’ I"think.1
liaveuoliced because Iwas qiiickened by your interest in
it. ' Indeed; you maybe sure that is the truth.’ I ‘
And now Iliave done with ‘the’ subject in the ‘present
letter, and have little left to say.’ ‘ ‘ ' I ' if ’ ‘ ’ ‘
“’e areall quite we1l,'and Fanny improves ever day-
You can hardly think’how kind she ‘is to me, an W115!‘
pains she takes‘ with me: ' She has a 1over,'who has fol-
lowedher, first all the way from Switzerland,’a'nd tlieri
all the way from Venice,’ and who hasjust confidedto
ri'1e‘tliat lie meansto follow her everywhere.“ 'I'W5!5
inuch'conf'used by his speaking to'me about’ it, butthe
would.‘ I did" not know what to say,‘but=‘at 'last;I told
him that I thought he had better not. ‘For Fanny (but I
did- not tellhim this) ismuch too spirited ’and’clever"t0‘
I have
no lover, of course. 5‘ . , ’ .
"If you should ever get so far as this in this long letter.
you will perhaps say, Surely Little Dorrit will not leave
off without telling me somctliin about ‘her travels;-!m’d
surely it is time she did. I thin it is indeed, but] <10,“ ‘
know what to tell you.‘ Sincezwe ‘left Vcnicewo 113?“
been in a great many wonderfuhplaces, Genoa'i1nd=F]0"‘.
cnce among them, and have seen so many wonderful
sights, that I am almost giddy when I tliinkiwhata crowd
they make. But you could tell me so much more all?“
them than I can tell you, that why should I tire youjV1l1‘
my accounts and descriptions? 7 ‘ ’ ' ‘ , '.
Dear Mr. Clennam, as I had‘ tlic'courage‘t0.te“, 3:0“
what the familiar ‘difficulties in my‘ travelling mind W979
before, I will not be a coward now. " One of my frequent
thoughts is this :’-Old as these cities fire’, th'ei1"%1g9 “Sad
is hardly so curious, to my reflections, as that they Sl10“1
have been in‘ their places all through those days WW”
did not even know of the existence of more than two. 0’
three of them, and when I’ scarcely knew of Iinytllllig
outside our old walls. I‘ There issomething melanchoh)’
in it, and I don’t know why. .-lVlien we went to see 1 9
famous leaning tower at Pisa, it was a bright 5111113)’ 33"
and it and the buildings near ‘it looked so old, and’the'
suit hitu. Still, he said holwould; all'tho:Vsaii:ie..‘
r
' earth and sky looked so young, and its shadow Only”
ground was so soft and retired I t I could not at first thiii
how beautiful it was, or how curious, but I thought’ ' u
how many times when the shadow of the’ W811“Vi’3 ‘fans
ing on our room, and when that weary trend of feet 1“'w
going up and down the yard-‘O how marvy times tli1SP ‘lite
was just as quiet and lovely as itis to-day !” ‘It ‘in
m..4........