There were so many lodgers in this house that the doorpost seemed to be

as full of bell-handles as a cathedral organ is of stops. Doubtful

which might be the clarionet-stop, he was considering the point, when a

shuttlecock flew out of the parlour window, and alighted on his hat.

He then observed that in the parlour window was a blind with the

inscription, MR CRIPPLES's ACADEMY; also in another line, EVENING

TUITION; and behind the blind was a little white-faced boy, with a slice

of bread-and-butter and a battledore.

The window being accessible from the footway, he looked in over the

blind, returned the shuttlecock, and put his question.

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'Dorrit?' said the little white-faced boy (Master Cripples in fact). 'Mr

Dorrit? Third bell and one knock.' The pupils of Mr Cripples appeared to

have been making a copy-book of the street-door, it was so extensively

scribbled over in pencil. The frequency of the inscriptions, 'Old Dorrit,' and 'Dirty Dick,'

in combination, suggested intentions of personality on the part Of

Mr Cripples's pupils. There was ample time to make these observations

before the door was opened by the poor old man himself.

'Ha!' said he, very slowly remembering Arthur, 'you were shut in last

night?' 'Yes, Mr Dorrit. I hope to meet your niece here presently.'

'Oh!' said he, pondering. 'Out of my brother's way? True. Would you come

up-stairs and wait for her?' 'Thank you.'

Turning himself as slowly as he turned in his mind whatever he heard or

said, he led the way up the narrow stairs. The house was very close, and

had an unwholesome smell. The little staircase windows looked in at the

back windows of other houses as unwholesome as itself, with poles and

lines thrust out of them, on which unsightly linen hung; as if the

inhabitants were angling for clothes, and had had some wretched bites

not worth attending to. In the back garret--a sickly room, with a

turn-up bedstead in it, so hastily and recently turned up that the

blankets were boiling over, as it were, and keeping the lid open--a

half-finished breakfast of coffee and toast for two persons was jumbled

down anyhow on a rickety table. There was no one there.

The old man mumbling to himself, after some

consideration, that Fanny had run away, went to the next room to fetch

her back. The visitor, observing that she held the door on the inside,

and that, when the uncle tried to open it, there was a sharp adjuration

of 'Don't, stupid!' and an appearance of loose stocking and flannel,

concluded that the young lady was in an undress. The uncle, without

appearing to come to any conclusion, shuffled in again, sat down in his

chair, and began warming his hands at the fire; not that it was cold, or

that he had any waking idea whether it was or not.