Chapter 33 - Page 2

her. As it seemed, however, essential
to the strength of their own case that they should admit her to
have been cruelly deceived, they graciously made the admission, and
continued to know her. It followed that Mrs Merdle, as a woman of
fashion and good breeding who had been sacrificed to the wiles of
a vulgar barbarian (for Mr Merdle was found out from the crown of
his head to the sole of his foot, the moment he was found out in
his pocket), must be actively championed by her order for her
order's sake. She returned this fealty by causing it to be
understood that she was even more incensed against the felonious
shade of the deceased than anybody else was; thus, on the whole,
she came out of her furnace like a wise woman, and did exceedingly
well.

Mr Sparkler's lordship was fortunately one of those shelves on
which a gentleman is considered to be put away for life, unless
there should be reasons for hoisting him up with the Barnacle crane
to a more lucrative height. That patriotic servant accordingly
stuck to his colours (the Standard of four Quarterings), and was a
perfect Nelson in respect of nailing them to the mast. On the
profits of his intrepidity, Mrs Sparkler and Mrs Merdle, inhabiting
different floors of the genteel little temple of inconvenience to
which the smell of the day before yesterday's soup and coach-horses
was as constant as Death to man, arrayed themselves to fight it out
in the lists of Society, sworn rivals. And Little Dorrit, seeing
all these things as they developed themselves, could not but
wonder, anxiously, into what back corner of the genteel
establishment Fanny's children would be poked by-and-by, and who
would take care of those unborn little victims.

Arthur being far too ill to be spoken with on subjects of emotion
or anxiety, and his recovery greatly depending on the repose into
which his weakness could be hushed, Little Dorrit's sole reliance
during this heavy period was on Mr Meagles. He was still abroad;
but she had written to him through his daughter, immediately after
first seeing Arthur in the Marshalsea and since, confiding her
uneasiness to him on the points on which she was most anxious, but
especially on one. To that one, the continued absence of Mr
Meagles abroad, instead of his comforting presence in the
Marshalsea, was referable.

Without disclosing the precise nature of the documents that had
fallen into Rigaud's hands, Little Dorrit had confided the general
outline of that story to Mr Meagles, to whom she had also recounted
his fate. The old cautious habits of the scales and scoop at once
showed Mr Meagles the importance of recovering the original papers;
wherefore he wrote back to Little Dorrit, strongly confirming her
in the