s standing, even in the Society in which he now moved (what that was, was
best known to myself), was eminently superior, and was acknowledged by every
one.«
    »Quite accurate,« rejoined Mrs. Merdle. »A most admirable memory.«
    »Thank you, ma'am. Perhaps you will be so kind as to tell my sister the
rest.«
    »There is very little to tell,« said Mrs. Merdle, reviewing the breadth of
bosom which seemed essential to her having room enough to be unfeeling in, »but
it is to your sister's credit. I pointed out to your sister the plain state of
the case; the impossibility of the Society in which we moved recognising the
Society in which she moved - though charming, I have no doubt; the immense
disadvantage at which she would consequently place the family she had so high an
opinion of, upon which we should find ourselves compelled to look down with
contempt, and from which (socially speaking) we should feel obliged to recoil
with abhorrence. In short, I made an appeal to that laudable pride in your
sister.«
    »Let my sister know, if you please, Mrs. Merdle,« Fanny pouted, with a toss
of her gauzy bonnet, »that I had already had the honour of telling your son that
I wished to have nothing whatever to say to him.«
    »Well, Miss Dorrit,« assented Mrs. Merdle, »perhaps I might have mentioned
that before. If I did not think of it, perhaps it was because my mind reverted
to the apprehensions I had at the time, that he might persevere and you might
have something to say to him. I also mentioned to your sister - I again address
the non-professional Miss Dorrit - that my son would have nothing in the event
of such a marriage, and would be an absolute beggar. (I mention that, merely as
a fact which is part of the narrative, and not as supposing it to have
influenced your sister, except in the prudent and legitimate way in which,
constituted as our artificial system is, we must all be influenced by such
considerations.) Finally, after some high words and high spirit on the part of
your sister; we came to the complete understanding that there was no danger; and
your sister was so obliging as to allow me to present her with a mark or two of
my appreciation at my dressmaker's.«
    Little Dorrit looked sorry, and glanced at Fanny with a troubled face.
    »Also,« said Mrs.
