Little Dorrit, Charles Dickens [big ebook reader txt] 📗

way more delicate and adapted to existing circumstances⁠—I must beg to be excused for taking the liberty of this intrusion but I thought I might so far presume upon old times forever faded never more to bloom as to call with Mr. F.’s Aunt to congratulate and offer best wishes, A great deal superior to China not to be denied and much nearer though higher up!”

“I am very happy to see you,” said Clennam, “and I thank you, Flora, very much for your kind remembrance.”

“More than I can say myself at any rate,” returned Flora, “for I might have been dead and buried twenty distinct times over and no doubt whatever should have been before you had genuinely remembered me or anything like it in spite of which one last remark I wish to make, one last explanation I wish to offer⁠—”

“My dear Mrs. Finching,” Arthur remonstrated in alarm.

“Oh not that disagreeable name, say Flora!”

“Flora, is it worth troubling yourself afresh to enter into explanations? I assure you none are needed. I am satisfied⁠—I am perfectly satisfied.”

A diversion was occasioned here, by Mr. F.’s Aunt making the following inexorable and awful statement:

“There’s milestones on the Dover road!”

With such mortal hostility towards the human race did she discharge this missile, that Clennam was quite at a loss how to defend himself; the rather as he had been already perplexed in his mind by the honour of a visit from this venerable lady, when it was plain she held him in the utmost abhorrence. He could not but look at her with disconcertment, as she sat breathing bitterness and scorn, and staring leagues away. Flora, however, received the remark as if it had been of a most apposite and agreeable nature; approvingly observing aloud that Mr. F.’s Aunt had a great deal of spirit. Stimulated either by this compliment, or by her burning indignation, that illustrious woman then added, “Let him meet it if he can!” And, with a rigid movement of her stony reticule (an appendage of great size and of a fossil appearance), indicated that Clennam was the unfortunate person at whom the challenge was hurled.

“One last remark,” resumed Flora, “I was going to say I wish to make one last explanation I wish to offer, Mr. F.’s Aunt and myself would not have intruded on business hours Mr. F. having been in business and though the wine trade still business is equally business call it what you will and business habits are just the same as witness Mr. F. himself who had his slippers always on the mat at ten minutes before six in the afternoon and his boots inside the fender at ten minutes before eight in the morning to the moment in all weathers light or dark⁠—would not therefore have intruded without a motive which being kindly meant it may be hoped will be kindly taken Arthur, Mr. Clennam far more proper, even Doyce and Clennam probably more businesslike.”

“Pray say nothing in the way of apology,” Arthur entreated. “You are always welcome.”

“Very polite of you to say so Arthur⁠—cannot remember Mr. Clennam until the word is out, such is the habit of times forever fled, and so true it is that oft in the stilly night ere slumber’s chain has bound people, fond memory brings the light of other days around people⁠—very polite but more polite than true I am afraid, for to go into the machinery business without so much as sending a line or a card to papa⁠—I don’t say me though there was a time but that is past and stern reality has now my gracious never mind⁠—does not look like it you must confess.”

Even Flora’s commas seemed to have fled on this occasion; she was so much more disjointed and voluble than in the preceding interview.

“Though indeed,” she hurried on, “nothing else is to be expected and why should it be expected and if it’s not to be expected why should it be, and I am far from blaming you or anyone, When your mama and my papa worried us to death and severed the golden bowl⁠—I mean bond but I dare say you know what I mean and if you don’t you don’t lose much and care just as little I will venture to add⁠—when they severed the golden bond that bound us and threw us into fits of crying on the sofa nearly choked at least myself everything was changed and in giving my hand to Mr. F. I know I did so with my eyes open but he was so very unsettled and in such low spirits that he had distractedly alluded to the river if not oil of something from the chemist’s and I did it for the best.”

“My good Flora, we settled that before. It was all quite right.”

“It’s perfectly clear you think so,” returned Flora, “for you take it very coolly, if I hadn’t known it to be China I should have guessed myself the Polar regions, dear Mr. Clennam you are right however and I cannot blame you but as to Doyce and Clennam papa’s property being about here we heard it from Pancks and but for him we never should have heard one word about it I am satisfied.”

“No, no, don’t say that.”

“What nonsense not to say it Arthur⁠—Doyce and Clennam⁠—easier and less trying to me than Mr. Clennam⁠—when I know it and you know it too and can’t deny it.”

“But I do deny it, Flora. I should soon have made you a friendly visit.”

“Ah!” said Flora, tossing her head. “I dare say!” and she gave him another of the old looks. “However when Pancks told us I made up my mind that Mr. F.’s Aunt and I would come and call because when papa⁠—which was before that⁠—happened to mention her name to me and to say that you were interested in her I said at the moment Good gracious why not have her here then when there’s anything to do instead of putting it out.”

“When you say Her,” observed