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Updated: May 8, 2025
He was not surprised by the attentions he received from Mr Chivery when that officer was on the lock, for he made little distinction between Mr Chivery's politeness and that of the other turnkeys. It was on one particular afternoon that Mr Chivery surprised him all at once, and stood forth from his companions in bold relief.
He had come to attach to Little Dorrit an interest so peculiar an interest that removed her from, while it grew out of, the common and coarse things surrounding her that he found it disappointing, disagreeable, almost painful, to suppose her in love with young Mr Chivery in the back-yard, or any such person.
Mrs Chivery, a prudent woman, had desired her husband to take notice that their john's prospects of the Lock would certainly be strengthened by an alliance with Miss Dorrit, who had herself a kind of claim upon the College and was much respected there.
Young John drew tears from his eyes by finishing the picture with a tombstone in the adjoining churchyard, close against the prison wall, bearing the following touching inscription: 'Sacred to the Memory Of JOHN CHIVERY, Sixty years Turnkey, and fifty years Head Turnkey, Of the neighbouring Marshalsea, Who departed this life, universally respected, on the thirty-first of December, One thousand eight hundred and eighty-six, Aged eighty-three years.
'But in your case there's no fiend in human form, said Mr Rugg, with argumentative smile and action of hand. 'Observe, Mr Chivery! No fiend in human form! 'No, sir, certainly, Young John added with simplicity, 'I should be very sorry if there was. 'The sentiment, said Mr Rugg, 'is what I should have expected from your known principles.
This was native delicacy in Mr Chivery true politeness; though his exterior had very much of a turnkey about it, and not the least of a gentleman. 'Thank you, sir, said Mr Chivery, without advancing; 'it's no odds me coming in. My son has a 'art, and my son's 'art is in the right place. Me and his mother knows where to find it, and we find it sitiwated correct.
"If you please, John Chivery," Little Dorrit answered, in a quiet way, "since you are so considerate as to ask me whether you shall say any more if you please, no." "Never, Miss Amy?" "No, if you please. Never." "Oh, Lord!" gasped young John.
When the prudent Mrs Chivery perceived that in addition to these adornments her John carried a pair of white kid gloves, and a cane like a little finger-post, surmounted by an ivory hand marshalling him the way that he should go; and when she saw him, in this heavy marching order, turn the corner to the right; she remarked to Mr Chivery, who was at home at the time, that she thought she knew which way the wind blew.
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