The mournfulness of his spirits, and the gorgeousness of his appearance,
might have made him ridiculous, but that his delicacy made him
respectable. Little Dorrit learnt from it what to do.
'If you please, John Chivery,' she returned, trembling, but in a quiet
way, 'since you are so considerate as to ask me whether you shall say
any more--if you please, no.' 'Never, Miss Amy?' 'No, if you please.
Never.' 'O Lord!' gasped Young John.
'But perhaps you will let me, instead, say something to you. I want
to say it earnestly, and with as plain a meaning as it is possible to
express. When you think of us, John--I mean my brother, and sister,
and me--don't think of us as being any different from the rest; for,
whatever we once were (which I hardly know) we ceased to be long ago,
and never can be any more. It will be much better for you, and much
better for others, if you will do that instead of what you are doing
now.' Young John dolefully protested that he would try to bear it in mind, and
would be heartily glad to do anything she wished.
'As to me,' said Little Dorrit, 'think as little of me as you can; the
less, the better. When you think of me at all, John, let it only be as
the child you have seen grow up in the prison with one set of duties
always occupying her; as a weak, retired, contented, unprotected girl. I
particularly want you to remember, that when I come outside the gate, I
am unprotected and solitary.'
He would try to do anything she wished. But why did Miss Amy so much
want him to remember that? 'Because,' returned Little Dorrit, 'I know I can then quite trust you
not to forget to-day, and not to say any more to me. You are so generous
that I know I can trust to you for that; and I do and I always will. I
am going to show you, at once, that I fully trust you. I like this place
where we are speaking better than any place I know;' her slight colour
had faded, but her lover thought he saw it coming back just then; 'and I
may be often here. I know it is only necessary for me to tell you so, to
be quite sure that you will never come here again in search of me. And I
am--quite sure!' She might rely upon it, said Young John. He was a miserable wretch, but
her word was more than a law for him. 'And good-bye, John,' said Little Dorrit. 'And I hope you will have a
good wife one day, and be a happy man. I am sure you will deserve to be
happy, and you will be, John.'