ion as if it was almost unfeeling to walk here.'

'Unfeeling?'

'To see the river, and so much sky, and so many objects, and such change
and motion. Then to go back, you know, and find him in the same cramped
place.'

'Ah yes! But going back, you must remember that you take with you the
spirit and influence of such things to cheer him.'

'Do I? I hope I may! I am afraid you fancy too much, sir, and make me
out too powerful. If you were in prison, could I bring such comfort to
you?' 'Yes, Little Dorrit, I am sure of it.'

He gathered from a tremor on her lip, and a passing shadow of great
agitation on her face, that her mind was with her father. He remained
silent for a few moments, that she might regain her composure. The
Little Dorrit, trembling on his arm, was less in unison than ever with
Mrs Chivery's theory, and yet was not irreconcilable with a new fancy
which sprung up within him, that there might be some one else in the
hopeless--newer fancy still--in the hopeless unattainable distance.

They turned, and Clennam said, Here was Maggy coming! Little Dorrit
looked up, surprised, and they confronted Maggy, who brought herself
at sight of them to a dead stop. She had been trotting along, so
preoccupied and busy that she had not recognised them until they turned
upon her. She was now in a moment so conscience-stricken that her very
basket partook of the change.

'Maggy, you promised me to stop near father.'

'So I would, Little Mother, only he wouldn't let me. If he takes and
sends me out I must go. If he takes and says, "Maggy, you hurry away and
back with that letter, and you shall have a sixpence if the answer's a
good 'un," I must take it. Lor, Little Mother, what's a poor thing of
ten year old to do? And if Mr Tip--if he happens to be a coming in as
I come out, and if he says "Where are you going, Maggy?" and if I says,
"I'm a going So and So," and if he says, "I'll have a Try too," and if
he goes into the George and writes a letter and if he gives it me and
says, "Take that one to the same place, and if the answer's a good 'un
I'll give you a shilling," it ain't my fault, mother!'

Arthur read, in Little Dorrit's downcast eyes, to whom she foresaw that
the letters were addressed.

'I'm a going So and So. There! That's where I am a going to,' said
Maggy. 'I'm a going So and So. It ain't you, Little Mother, that's got
anything to do with it--it's you, you know,' said Maggy, addressing
Arthur. 'You'd be