Manifold are the cares of wealth and state. Mr Dorrit's satisfaction in

remembering that it had not been necessary for him to announce himself

to Clennam and Co., or to make an allusion to his having had any

knowledge of the intrusive person of that name, had been damped

over-night, while it was still fresh, by a debate that arose within him

whether or no he should take the Marshalsea in his way back, and look

at the old gate.

He had decided not to do so; and had astonished the

coachman by being very fierce with him for proposing to go over London

Bridge and recross the river by Waterloo Bridge--a course which would

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have taken him almost within sight of his old quarters. Still, for all

that, the question had raised a conflict in his breast; and, for some

odd reason or no reason, he was vaguely dissatisfied.

Even at the Merdle dinner-table next day, he was so out of sorts about it that he

continued at intervals to turn it over and over, in a manner frightfully

inconsistent with the good society surrounding him. It made him hot to

think what the Chief Butler's opinion of him would have been, if that

illustrious personage could have plumbed with that heavy eye of his the

stream of his meditations.

The farewell banquet was of a gorgeous nature, and wound up his visit

in a most brilliant manner. Fanny combined with the attractions of her

youth and beauty, a certain weight of self-sustainment as if she had

been married twenty years. He felt that he could leave her with a

quiet mind to tread the paths of distinction, and wished--but without

abatement of patronage, and without prejudice to the retiring virtues of

his favourite child--that he had such another daughter.

'My dear,' he told her at parting, 'our family looks to you

to--ha--assert its dignity and--hum--maintain its importance. I know you

will never disappoint it.'

'No, papa,' said Fanny, 'you may rely upon that, I think. My best love

to dearest Amy, and I will write to her very soon.'

'Shall I convey any message to--ha--anybody else?' asked Mr Dorrit, in

an insinuating manner.

'Papa,' said Fanny, before whom Mrs General instantly loomed, 'no, I

thank you. You are very kind, Pa, but I must beg to be excused. There

is no other message to send, I thank you, dear papa, that it would be at

all agreeable to you to take.'

They parted in an outer drawing-room, where only Mr Sparkler waited

on his lady, and dutifully bided his time for shaking hands. When Mr

Sparkler was admitted to this closing audience, Mr Merdle came creeping

in with not much more appearance of arms in his sleeves than if he

had been the twin brother of Miss Biffin, and insisted on escorting

Mr Dorrit down-stairs.