ould have refused to let her son
marry Fanny in the old days, but now it was another matter. He proposed,
and Fanny, who had been made angry a thousand times by Mrs. Merdle's
insolence and patronizing ways, made up her mind to marry him if only to
take her revenge on his mother.

Mrs. Merdle's husband always stayed in London. He was immensely rich--so
rich that people said everything he touched turned into gold. He was a
quiet, dull man, with dull red cheeks, and cared nothing at all for
society, though everybody flattered and courted him.

When old Mr. Dorrit saw Mrs. Merdle's son was in love with Fanny he was
greatly pleased. He had by this time grown so selfish that he considered
much less her happiness than his own profit, and he thought if they were
married he could persuade Mr. Merdle to invest his own great fortune
for him, so that he would be even richer than he was now. Mr. Merdle's
name had been growing bigger and bigger every day. Nobody believed the
great man could make a mistake, but that he was going to keep on getting
richer and richer (though nobody knew how he did it) as long as he
lived.

So, before long, Fanny married Mrs. Merdle's son, and went back to
London to take up life in the magnificent Merdle mansion with her silly,
chuckle-headed husband. Mr. Merdle had got a very rich position for him
in the "Circumlocution Office" with which Arthur Clennam had had so much
trouble once on a time.

Old Mr. Dorrit went to London, too, and, as he had schemed, gave the
famous Mr. Merdle all his fortune to invest. Then he returned to Italy,
where, in Rome, his faithful and lonely Little Dorrit waited lovingly
for him.

On the night after he reached Rome Mrs. Merdle gave a dinner party to a
large company, and Little Dorrit and her father attended.

In the midst of the dinner he suddenly called to her across the table.
His voice was so loud and excited that all the guests were frightened
and rose to their feet. Little Dorrit ran to him and put her arms about
him, for she saw at once that he was not himself.

He began to address the company, and his first words showed that his
mind had failed. He imagined he was still in the debtors' prison and
that all the rich people about him were the other poor prisoners. He
made them a speech, welcoming them to its walls, thanking them in
advance for any money they might give to him as "The Father of the
Marshalsea." And he ended by calling for the old turnkey he had k