Yet  surely  there  was  nothing  to  be  jealous  of  in  the  old  miserable
poverty.     Whence,  then,  the  pang  in  his  heart  ?

"  Do  you  know,  uncle,  I  think  you  are  growing  young  again? "

Her  uncle  shook  his  head,  and  said,  "  Since  when,  my  dear;  since
when?"

"I  think,"  returned  Little  Dorrit,  plying  her  needle,  "that  you
have  been  growing  younger  for  weeks  past.  So  cheerful,  uncle,  and
so  ready,  and  so  interested  ! "

"  My  dear  child — all  you."

"All  me,  uncle!"

"  Yes,  yes.  You  have  done  me  a  world  of  good.  You  have
been  so  considerate  of  me,  and  so  tender  with  me,  and  so  delicate  in
trying  to  hide  your  attentions  from  me,  that  I — well,  well,  well !  It's
treasured  up,  my  darling,  treasured  up."

"  There  is  nothing  in  it  but  your  own  fresh  fancy,  uncle,"  said
Little  Dorrit,  cheerfully.
"  Well,  well,  well !  "  murmured  the  old  man.     "  Thank  God  !  "

She  paused  for  an  instant  in  her  work  to  look  at  him,  and  her  look
revived  that  former  pain  in  her  father's  breast ;  in  his  poor  weak  breast,
so  full  of  contradictions,  vacillations,  inconsistencies,  the  little  peevish
perplexities  of  this  ignorant  life,  mists  which  the  morning  without  a
night  only  can  clear  away.
LITTLE   DOERIT.  483

"  I  have  been  freer  with  you,  you  see,  my  dove,"  said  the  old  man,
"  since  we  have  been  alone.  I  say,  alone,  for  I  don't  count  Mrs.
