true, so far as in my humble way I can, and I would scorn to pretend for a moment that she ever did, or that she ever led me to believe she did; no, nor even that it was ever to be expected in any cool reason that she would or could. She was far above me in all respects at all times. As likewise,« added John, »similarly was her genteel family.« His chivalrous feeling towards all that belonged to her, made him so very respectable, in spite of his small stature and his rather weak legs, and his very weak hair, and his poetical temperament, that a Goliath might have sat in his place demanding less consideration at Arthur's hands. »You speak, John,« he said, with cordial admiration, »like a Man.« »Well, sir,« returned John, brushing his hand across his eyes, »then I wish you'd do the same.« He was quick with this unexpected retort, and it again made Arthur regard him with a wondering expression of face. »Leastways,« said John, stretching his hand across the tea-tray, »if too strong a remark, withdrawn! But, why not, why not? When I say to you, Mr. Clennam, take care of yourself for some one else's sake, why not be open though a turnkey? Why did I get you the room which I knew you'd like best? Why did I carry up your things? Not that I found 'em heavy; I don't mention 'em on that accounts; far from it. Why have I cultivated you in the manner I have done, since the morning? On the ground of your own merits? No. They're very great, I've no doubt at all; but not on the ground of them. Another's merits have had their weight, and have had far more weight with Me. Then why not speak free?« »Unaffectedly, John,« said Clennam, »you are so good a fellow, and I have so true a respect for your character, that if I have appeared to be less sensible than I really am, of the fact that the kind services you have rendered me to-day are attributable to my having been trusted by Miss Dorrit as her friend - I confess it to be a fault, and I ask your forgiveness.« »Oh! why not,« John repeated with returning scorn, »why not speak free!«