during their absence a voice （it appeared to be that of the gentleman
with the black hair） was continually calling out through the music；
'One； two； three； four； five； six……go！ One； two； three； four； five；
six……go！ Steady； darlings！ One； two； three； four； five； six……go！'
Ultimately the voice stopped； and they all came back again； more or less
out of breath； folding themselves in their shawls； and making ready
for the streets。 'Stop a moment； Amy； and let them get away before
us；' whispered Fanny。 They were soon left alone； nothing more important
happening； in the meantime； than the boy looking round his old beam； and
saying； 'Everybody at eleven to…morrow； ladies！' and the gentleman with
the black hair looking round his old beam； and saying； 'Everybody at
eleven to…morrow； darlings！' each in his own accustomed manner。
When they were alone； something was rolled up or by other means got out
of the way； and there was a great empty well before them； looking down
into the depths of which Fanny said； 'Now； uncle！' Little Dorrit； as her
eyes became used to the darkness； faintly made him out at the bottom of
the well； in an obscure corner by himself； with his instrument in its
ragged case under his arm。
The old man looked as if the remote high gallery windows； with their
little strip of sky； might have been the point of his better fortunes；
from which he had descended； until he had gradually sunk down below
there to the bottom。 He had been in that place six nights a week for
many years； but had never been observed to raise his eyes above his
music…book； and was confidently believed to have never seen a play。
There were legends in the place that he did not so much as know the
popular heroes and heroines by sight； and that the low edian had
'mugged' at him in his richest manner fifty nights for a wager； and he
had shown no trace of consciousness。 The carpenters had a joke to the
effect that he was dead without being aware of it； and the frequenters
of the pit supposed him to pass his whole life； night and day； and
Sunday and all； in the orchestra。 They had tried him a few times with
pinches of snuff offered over the rails； and he had always responded to
this attention with a momentary waking up of manner that had the pale
phantom of a gentleman in it： beyond this he never； on any occasion； had
any other part in what was going on than the part written out for the
clario； in private life； where there was no part for the clario；
he had no part at all。 Some said he was poor； some said he was a wealthy
miser； but he said nothing； never lifted up his bowed head； never varied
his shuffling gait by getting his springless foot from the ground。
Though expecting now to be summoned by his niece； he did not hear her
until she had spoken to him three or four times； nor was he at all
surprised by the presence of two nieces instead of one； but merely said
in his tremulous voice； 'I am ing； I am ing！' and crept forth by
some underground way which emitted a cellarous smell。
'And so； Amy；' said her sister； when the three together passed out at
the door that had such a shame…faced consciousness of being different
from other doors： the uncle instinctively taking Amy's arm as the arm to
be relied on： 'so； Amy； you are curious about me？'
She was pretty； and conscious； and rather flaunting； and the
condescension with which she put aside the superiority of her charms；
and of her worldly experience； and addressed her sister on almost equal
terms； had a vast deal of the family in it。
'I am interested； Fanny； and concerned in anything that concerns you。'
'So you are； so you are； and you are the best of Amys。 If I am ever a
little provoking； I am sure you'll consider what a thing it is to
occupy my position and feel a consciousness of being superior to it。 I
shouldn't care；' said the Daughter of the Father of the Marshalsea； 'if
the others were not so mon。 None of them have e down in the world
as we have。 They are all on their own level。 mon。'
Little Dorrit mildly looked at the speaker； but did not interrupt her。
Fanny took out her handkerchief； and rather angrily wiped her eyes。 'I
was not born where you were； you know； Amy； and perhaps that makes a
difference。 My dear child； when we get rid of Uncle； you shall know all
about it。 We'll drop him at the cook's shop where he is going to dine。'
They walked on with him until they came to a dirty shop window in a
dirty street； which of hot meats；
vegetables； and puddings。 But glimpses were to be caught of a roast leg
of pork bursting into tears of sage and onion in a metal reservoir full
of gravy； of an unctuous piece of roast beef and blisterous Yorkshire
pudding； bubbling hot in a similar receptacle； of a stuffed fillet of
veal in rapid cut； of a ham in a perspiration with the pace it was going
at； of a shallow tank of baked potatoes glued together by their own
richness； of a truss or two of boiled greens； and other substantial
delicacies。 Within； were a few wooden partitions； behind which such
customers as found it more convenient to take away their dinners in
stomachs than in their hands； Packed their purchases in solitude。 Fanny
opening her reticule； as they surveyed these things； produced from that
repository a shilling and handed it to Uncle。 Uncle； after not looking
at it a little while； divined its object； and muttering 'Dinner？ Ha！
Yes； yes； yes！' slowly vanished from them into the mist。
'Now； Amy；' said her sister； 'e with me； if you are not too tired to
walk to Harley Street； Cavendish Square。'
The air with which she threw off this distinguished address and the toss
she gave to her new bon （which was more gauzy than serviceable）； made
her sister wonder； however； she expressed her readiness to go to Harley
Street； and thither they directed their steps。 Arrived at that grand
destination； Fanny singled out the handsomest house； and knocking at the
door； inquired for Mrs Merdle。 The footman who opened the door； although
he had powder on his head and was backed up by two other footmen
likewise powdered； not only admitted Mrs Merdle to be at home； but asked
Fanny to walk in。 Fanny walked in； taking her sister with her； and they
went up…stairs with powder going before and powder stopping behind；
and were left in a spacious semicircular drawing…room； one of several
drawing…rooms； where there was a parrot on the outside of a golden cage
holding on by its beak； with its scaly legs in the air； and putting
itself into many strange upside…down postures。 This peculiarity has been
observed in birds of quite another feather； climbing upon golden wires。
The room was far more splendid than anything Little Dorrit had ever
imagined； and would have been splendid and costly in any eyes。 She
looked in amazement at her sister and would have asked a question；
but that Fanny with a warning frown pointed to a curtained doorway of
munication with another room。 The curtain shook next moment； and a
lady； raising it with a heavily ringed hand； dropped it behind her again
as she entered。
The lady was not young and fresh from the hand of Nature； but was young
and fresh from the hand of her maid。 She had large unfeeli