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diff --git a/old/766.txt b/old/766.txt deleted file mode 100644 index 2d785e8..0000000 --- a/old/766.txt +++ /dev/null @@ -1,38589 +0,0 @@ -The Project Gutenberg EBook of David Copperfield, by Charles Dickens - -This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with -almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or -re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included -with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org - - -Title: David Copperfield - -Author: Charles Dickens - -Release Date: December, 1996 [Etext #766] -Posting Date: November 24, 2009 -Last updated: October 18, 2015 - -Language: English - -Character set encoding: ASCII - -*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK DAVID COPPERFIELD *** - - - - -Produced by Jo Churcher - - - - - -DAVID COPPERFIELD - - -By Charles Dickens - - - - AFFECTIONATELY INSCRIBED TO - THE HON. Mr. AND Mrs. RICHARD WATSON, - OF ROCKINGHAM, NORTHAMPTONSHIRE. - - -CONTENTS - - - I. I Am Born - II. I Observe - III. I Have a Change - IV. I Fall into Disgrace - V. I Am Sent Away - VI. I Enlarge My Circle of Acquaintance - VII. My 'First Half' at Salem House - VIII. My Holidays. Especially One Happy Afternoon - IX. I Have a Memorable Birthday - X. I Become Neglected, and Am Provided For - XI. I Begin Life on My Own Account, and Don't Like It - XII. Liking Life on My Own Account No Better, I Form a Great Resolution - XIII. The Sequel of My Resolution - XIV. My Aunt Makes up Her Mind About Me - XV. I Make Another Beginning - XVI. I Am a New Boy in More Senses Than One - XVII. Somebody Turns Up - XVIII. A Retrospect - XIX. I Look About Me and Make a Discovery - XX. Steerforth's Home - XXI. Little Em'ly - XXII. Some Old Scenes, and Some New People - XXIII. I Corroborate Mr. Dick, and Choose a Profession - XXIV. My First Dissipation - XXV. Good and Bad Angels - XXVI. I Fall into Captivity - XXVII. Tommy Traddles - XXVIII. Mr. Micawber's Gauntlet - XXIX. I Visit Steerforth at His Home, Again - XXX. A Loss - XXXI. A Greater Loss - XXXII. The Beginning of a Long Journey - XXXIII. Blissful - XXXIV. My Aunt Astonishes Me - XXXV. Depression - XXXVI. Enthusiasm - XXXVII. A Little Cold Water - XXXVIII. A Dissolution of Partnership - XXXIX. Wickfield and Heep - XL. The Wanderer - XLI. Dora's Aunts - XLII. Mischief - XLIII. Another Retrospect - XLIV. Our Housekeeping - XLV. Mr. Dick Fulfils My Aunt's Predictions - XLVI. Intelligence - XLVII. Martha - XLVIII. Domestic - XLIX. I Am Involved in Mystery - L. Mr. Peggotty's Dream Comes True - LI. The Beginning of a Longer Journey - LII. I Assist at an Explosion - LIII. Another Retrospect - LIV. Mr. Micawber's Transactions - LV. Tempest - LVI. The New Wound, and the Old - LVII. The Emigrants - LVIII. Absence - LIX. Return - LX. Agnes - LXI. I Am Shown Two Interesting Penitents - LXII. A Light Shines on My Way - LXIII. A Visitor - LXIV. A Last Retrospect - - - - -PREFACE TO 1850 EDITION - - -I do not find it easy to get sufficiently far away from this Book, in -the first sensations of having finished it, to refer to it with the -composure which this formal heading would seem to require. My interest -in it, is so recent and strong; and my mind is so divided between -pleasure and regret--pleasure in the achievement of a long design, -regret in the separation from many companions--that I am in danger of -wearying the reader whom I love, with personal confidences, and private -emotions. - -Besides which, all that I could say of the Story, to any purpose, I have -endeavoured to say in it. - -It would concern the reader little, perhaps, to know, how sorrowfully -the pen is laid down at the close of a two-years' imaginative task; or -how an Author feels as if he were dismissing some portion of himself -into the shadowy world, when a crowd of the creatures of his brain -are going from him for ever. Yet, I have nothing else to tell; unless, -indeed, I were to confess (which might be of less moment still) that no -one can ever believe this Narrative, in the reading, more than I have -believed it in the writing. - -Instead of looking back, therefore, I will look forward. I cannot close -this Volume more agreeably to myself, than with a hopeful glance towards -the time when I shall again put forth my two green leaves once a month, -and with a faithful remembrance of the genial sun and showers that have -fallen on these leaves of David Copperfield, and made me happy. - - London, October, 1850. - - - - -PREFACE TO THE CHARLES DICKENS EDITION - - -I REMARKED in the original Preface to this Book, that I did not find it -easy to get sufficiently far away from it, in the first sensations of -having finished it, to refer to it with the composure which this formal -heading would seem to require. My interest in it was so recent and -strong, and my mind was so divided between pleasure and regret--pleasure -in the achievement of a long design, regret in the separation from many -companions--that I was in danger of wearying the reader with personal -confidences and private emotions. - -Besides which, all that I could have said of the Story to any purpose, I -had endeavoured to say in it. - -It would concern the reader little, perhaps, to know how sorrowfully the -pen is laid down at the close of a two-years' imaginative task; or how -an Author feels as if he were dismissing some portion of himself into -the shadowy world, when a crowd of the creatures of his brain are going -from him for ever. Yet, I had nothing else to tell; unless, indeed, I -were to confess (which might be of less moment still), that no one can -ever believe this Narrative, in the reading, more than I believed it in -the writing. - -So true are these avowals at the present day, that I can now only take -the reader into one confidence more. Of all my books, I like this the -best. It will be easily believed that I am a fond parent to every child -of my fancy, and that no one can ever love that family as dearly as I -love them. But, like many fond parents, I have in my heart of hearts a -favourite child. And his name is - -DAVID COPPERFIELD. - - 1869 - - - - -THE PERSONAL HISTORY AND EXPERIENCE OF DAVID COPPERFIELD THE YOUNGER - - - -CHAPTER 1. I AM BORN - - - -Whether I shall turn out to be the hero of my own life, or whether that -station will be held by anybody else, these pages must show. To begin my -life with the beginning of my life, I record that I was born (as I have -been informed and believe) on a Friday, at twelve o'clock at night. -It was remarked that the clock began to strike, and I began to cry, -simultaneously. - -In consideration of the day and hour of my birth, it was declared by -the nurse, and by some sage women in the neighbourhood who had taken a -lively interest in me several months before there was any possibility -of our becoming personally acquainted, first, that I was destined to be -unlucky in life; and secondly, that I was privileged to see ghosts and -spirits; both these gifts inevitably attaching, as they believed, to -all unlucky infants of either gender, born towards the small hours on a -Friday night. - -I need say nothing here, on the first head, because nothing can show -better than my history whether that prediction was verified or falsified -by the result. On the second branch of the question, I will only remark, -that unless I ran through that part of my inheritance while I was still -a baby, I have not come into it yet. But I do not at all complain of -having been kept out of this property; and if anybody else should be in -the present enjoyment of it, he is heartily welcome to keep it. - -I was born with a caul, which was advertised for sale, in the -newspapers, at the low price of fifteen guineas. Whether sea-going -people were short of money about that time, or were short of faith and -preferred cork jackets, I don't know; all I know is, that there was but -one solitary bidding, and that was from an attorney connected with the -bill-broking business, who offered two pounds in cash, and the balance -in sherry, but declined to be guaranteed from drowning on any higher -bargain. Consequently the advertisement was withdrawn at a dead -loss--for as to sherry, my poor dear mother's own sherry was in the -market then--and ten years afterwards, the caul was put up in a raffle -down in our part of the country, to fifty members at half-a-crown a -head, the winner to spend five shillings. I was present myself, and I -remember to have felt quite uncomfortable and confused, at a part of -myself being disposed of in that way. The caul was won, I recollect, by -an old lady with a hand-basket, who, very reluctantly, produced from it -the stipulated five shillings, all in halfpence, and twopence halfpenny -short--as it took an immense time and a great waste of arithmetic, to -endeavour without any effect to prove to her. It is a fact which will -be long remembered as remarkable down there, that she was never drowned, -but died triumphantly in bed, at ninety-two. I have understood that it -was, to the last, her proudest boast, that she never had been on the -water in her life, except upon a bridge; and that over her tea (to which -she was extremely partial) she, to the last, expressed her indignation -at the impiety of mariners and others, who had the presumption to go -'meandering' about the world. It was in vain to represent to her -that some conveniences, tea perhaps included, resulted from this -objectionable practice. She always returned, with greater emphasis and -with an instinctive knowledge of the strength of her objection, 'Let us -have no meandering.' - -Not to meander myself, at present, I will go back to my birth. - -I was born at Blunderstone, in Suffolk, or 'there by', as they say in -Scotland. I was a posthumous child. My father's eyes had closed upon -the light of this world six months, when mine opened on it. There is -something strange to me, even now, in the reflection that he never saw -me; and something stranger yet in the shadowy remembrance that I have -of my first childish associations with his white grave-stone in the -churchyard, and of the indefinable compassion I used to feel for it -lying out alone there in the dark night, when our little parlour -was warm and bright with fire and candle, and the doors of our house -were--almost cruelly, it seemed to me sometimes--bolted and locked -against it. - -An aunt of my father's, and consequently a great-aunt of mine, of whom -I shall have more to relate by and by, was the principal magnate of our -family. Miss Trotwood, or Miss Betsey, as my poor mother always called -her, when she sufficiently overcame her dread of this formidable -personage to mention her at all (which was seldom), had been married -to a husband younger than herself, who was very handsome, except in the -sense of the homely adage, 'handsome is, that handsome does'--for he -was strongly suspected of having beaten Miss Betsey, and even of having -once, on a disputed question of supplies, made some hasty but determined -arrangements to throw her out of a two pair of stairs' window. These -evidences of an incompatibility of temper induced Miss Betsey to pay him -off, and effect a separation by mutual consent. He went to India with -his capital, and there, according to a wild legend in our family, he was -once seen riding on an elephant, in company with a Baboon; but I think -it must have been a Baboo--or a Begum. Anyhow, from India tidings of his -death reached home, within ten years. How they affected my aunt, nobody -knew; for immediately upon the separation, she took her maiden name -again, bought a cottage in a hamlet on the sea-coast a long way off, -established herself there as a single woman with one servant, and -was understood to live secluded, ever afterwards, in an inflexible -retirement. - -My father had once been a favourite of hers, I believe; but she was -mortally affronted by his marriage, on the ground that my mother was 'a -wax doll'. She had never seen my mother, but she knew her to be not -yet twenty. My father and Miss Betsey never met again. He was double -my mother's age when he married, and of but a delicate constitution. He -died a year afterwards, and, as I have said, six months before I came -into the world. - -This was the state of matters, on the afternoon of, what I may be -excused for calling, that eventful and important Friday. I can make no -claim therefore to have known, at that time, how matters stood; or to -have any remembrance, founded on the evidence of my own senses, of what -follows. - -My mother was sitting by the fire, but poorly in health, and very low in -spirits, looking at it through her tears, and desponding heavily about -herself and the fatherless little stranger, who was already welcomed by -some grosses of prophetic pins, in a drawer upstairs, to a world not at -all excited on the subject of his arrival; my mother, I say, was sitting -by the fire, that bright, windy March afternoon, very timid and sad, and -very doubtful of ever coming alive out of the trial that was before her, -when, lifting her eyes as she dried them, to the window opposite, she -saw a strange lady coming up the garden. - -My mother had a sure foreboding at the second glance, that it was -Miss Betsey. The setting sun was glowing on the strange lady, over the -garden-fence, and she came walking up to the door with a fell rigidity -of figure and composure of countenance that could have belonged to -nobody else. - -When she reached the house, she gave another proof of her identity. -My father had often hinted that she seldom conducted herself like any -ordinary Christian; and now, instead of ringing the bell, she came and -looked in at that identical window, pressing the end of her nose against -the glass to that extent, that my poor dear mother used to say it became -perfectly flat and white in a moment. - -She gave my mother such a turn, that I have always been convinced I am -indebted to Miss Betsey for having been born on a Friday. - -My mother had left her chair in her agitation, and gone behind it in -the corner. Miss Betsey, looking round the room, slowly and inquiringly, -began on the other side, and carried her eyes on, like a Saracen's Head -in a Dutch clock, until they reached my mother. Then she made a frown -and a gesture to my mother, like one who was accustomed to be obeyed, to -come and open the door. My mother went. - -'Mrs. David Copperfield, I think,' said Miss Betsey; the emphasis -referring, perhaps, to my mother's mourning weeds, and her condition. - -'Yes,' said my mother, faintly. - -'Miss Trotwood,' said the visitor. 'You have heard of her, I dare say?' - -My mother answered she had had that pleasure. And she had a disagreeable -consciousness of not appearing to imply that it had been an overpowering -pleasure. - -'Now you see her,' said Miss Betsey. My mother bent her head, and begged -her to walk in. - -They went into the parlour my mother had come from, the fire in the best -room on the other side of the passage not being lighted--not having -been lighted, indeed, since my father's funeral; and when they were both -seated, and Miss Betsey said nothing, my mother, after vainly trying to -restrain herself, began to cry. 'Oh tut, tut, tut!' said Miss Betsey, in -a hurry. 'Don't do that! Come, come!' - -My mother couldn't help it notwithstanding, so she cried until she had -had her cry out. - -'Take off your cap, child,' said Miss Betsey, 'and let me see you.' - -My mother was too much afraid of her to refuse compliance with this odd -request, if she had any disposition to do so. Therefore she did as she -was told, and did it with such nervous hands that her hair (which was -luxuriant and beautiful) fell all about her face. - -'Why, bless my heart!' exclaimed Miss Betsey. 'You are a very Baby!' - -My mother was, no doubt, unusually youthful in appearance even for her -years; she hung her head, as if it were her fault, poor thing, and said, -sobbing, that indeed she was afraid she was but a childish widow, and -would be but a childish mother if she lived. In a short pause which -ensued, she had a fancy that she felt Miss Betsey touch her hair, and -that with no ungentle hand; but, looking at her, in her timid hope, she -found that lady sitting with the skirt of her dress tucked up, her hands -folded on one knee, and her feet upon the fender, frowning at the fire. - -'In the name of Heaven,' said Miss Betsey, suddenly, 'why Rookery?' - -'Do you mean the house, ma'am?' asked my mother. - -'Why Rookery?' said Miss Betsey. 'Cookery would have been more to the -purpose, if you had had any practical ideas of life, either of you.' - -'The name was Mr. Copperfield's choice,' returned my mother. 'When he -bought the house, he liked to think that there were rooks about it.' - -The evening wind made such a disturbance just now, among some tall old -elm-trees at the bottom of the garden, that neither my mother nor Miss -Betsey could forbear glancing that way. As the elms bent to one another, -like giants who were whispering secrets, and after a few seconds of such -repose, fell into a violent flurry, tossing their wild arms about, as if -their late confidences were really too wicked for their peace of mind, -some weatherbeaten ragged old rooks'-nests, burdening their higher -branches, swung like wrecks upon a stormy sea. - -'Where are the birds?' asked Miss Betsey. - -'The--?' My mother had been thinking of something else. - -'The rooks--what has become of them?' asked Miss Betsey. - -'There have not been any since we have lived here,' said my mother. 'We -thought--Mr. Copperfield thought--it was quite a large rookery; but -the nests were very old ones, and the birds have deserted them a long -while.' - -'David Copperfield all over!' cried Miss Betsey. 'David Copperfield from -head to foot! Calls a house a rookery when there's not a rook near it, -and takes the birds on trust, because he sees the nests!' - -'Mr. Copperfield,' returned my mother, 'is dead, and if you dare to -speak unkindly of him to me--' - -My poor dear mother, I suppose, had some momentary intention of -committing an assault and battery upon my aunt, who could easily have -settled her with one hand, even if my mother had been in far better -training for such an encounter than she was that evening. But it passed -with the action of rising from her chair; and she sat down again very -meekly, and fainted. - -When she came to herself, or when Miss Betsey had restored her, -whichever it was, she found the latter standing at the window. The -twilight was by this time shading down into darkness; and dimly as they -saw each other, they could not have done that without the aid of the -fire. - -'Well?' said Miss Betsey, coming back to her chair, as if she had only -been taking a casual look at the prospect; 'and when do you expect--' - -'I am all in a tremble,' faltered my mother. 'I don't know what's the -matter. I shall die, I am sure!' - -'No, no, no,' said Miss Betsey. 'Have some tea.' - -'Oh dear me, dear me, do you think it will do me any good?' cried my -mother in a helpless manner. - -'Of course it will,' said Miss Betsey. 'It's nothing but fancy. What do -you call your girl?' - -'I don't know that it will be a girl, yet, ma'am,' said my mother -innocently. - -'Bless the Baby!' exclaimed Miss Betsey, unconsciously quoting the -second sentiment of the pincushion in the drawer upstairs, but -applying it to my mother instead of me, 'I don't mean that. I mean your -servant-girl.' - -'Peggotty,' said my mother. - -'Peggotty!' repeated Miss Betsey, with some indignation. 'Do you mean to -say, child, that any human being has gone into a Christian church, -and got herself named Peggotty?' 'It's her surname,' said my mother, -faintly. 'Mr. Copperfield called her by it, because her Christian name -was the same as mine.' - -'Here! Peggotty!' cried Miss Betsey, opening the parlour door. 'Tea. -Your mistress is a little unwell. Don't dawdle.' - -Having issued this mandate with as much potentiality as if she had been -a recognized authority in the house ever since it had been a house, -and having looked out to confront the amazed Peggotty coming along the -passage with a candle at the sound of a strange voice, Miss Betsey shut -the door again, and sat down as before: with her feet on the fender, the -skirt of her dress tucked up, and her hands folded on one knee. - -'You were speaking about its being a girl,' said Miss Betsey. 'I have no -doubt it will be a girl. I have a presentiment that it must be a girl. -Now child, from the moment of the birth of this girl--' - -'Perhaps boy,' my mother took the liberty of putting in. - -'I tell you I have a presentiment that it must be a girl,' returned Miss -Betsey. 'Don't contradict. From the moment of this girl's birth, child, -I intend to be her friend. I intend to be her godmother, and I beg -you'll call her Betsey Trotwood Copperfield. There must be no mistakes -in life with THIS Betsey Trotwood. There must be no trifling with HER -affections, poor dear. She must be well brought up, and well guarded -from reposing any foolish confidences where they are not deserved. I -must make that MY care.' - -There was a twitch of Miss Betsey's head, after each of these sentences, -as if her own old wrongs were working within her, and she repressed any -plainer reference to them by strong constraint. So my mother suspected, -at least, as she observed her by the low glimmer of the fire: too -much scared by Miss Betsey, too uneasy in herself, and too subdued and -bewildered altogether, to observe anything very clearly, or to know what -to say. - -'And was David good to you, child?' asked Miss Betsey, when she had been -silent for a little while, and these motions of her head had gradually -ceased. 'Were you comfortable together?' - -'We were very happy,' said my mother. 'Mr. Copperfield was only too good -to me.' - -'What, he spoilt you, I suppose?' returned Miss Betsey. - -'For being quite alone and dependent on myself in this rough world -again, yes, I fear he did indeed,' sobbed my mother. - -'Well! Don't cry!' said Miss Betsey. 'You were not equally matched, -child--if any two people can be equally matched--and so I asked the -question. You were an orphan, weren't you?' 'Yes.' - -'And a governess?' - -'I was nursery-governess in a family where Mr. Copperfield came to -visit. Mr. Copperfield was very kind to me, and took a great deal of -notice of me, and paid me a good deal of attention, and at last proposed -to me. And I accepted him. And so we were married,' said my mother -simply. - -'Ha! Poor Baby!' mused Miss Betsey, with her frown still bent upon the -fire. 'Do you know anything?' - -'I beg your pardon, ma'am,' faltered my mother. - -'About keeping house, for instance,' said Miss Betsey. - -'Not much, I fear,' returned my mother. 'Not so much as I could wish. -But Mr. Copperfield was teaching me--' - -('Much he knew about it himself!') said Miss Betsey in a parenthesis. ---'And I hope I should have improved, being very anxious to learn, and -he very patient to teach me, if the great misfortune of his death'--my -mother broke down again here, and could get no farther. - -'Well, well!' said Miss Betsey. --'I kept my housekeeping-book -regularly, and balanced it with Mr. Copperfield every night,' cried my -mother in another burst of distress, and breaking down again. - -'Well, well!' said Miss Betsey. 'Don't cry any more.' --'And I am -sure we never had a word of difference respecting it, except when Mr. -Copperfield objected to my threes and fives being too much like each -other, or to my putting curly tails to my sevens and nines,' resumed my -mother in another burst, and breaking down again. - -'You'll make yourself ill,' said Miss Betsey, 'and you know that will -not be good either for you or for my god-daughter. Come! You mustn't do -it!' - -This argument had some share in quieting my mother, though her -increasing indisposition had a larger one. There was an interval of -silence, only broken by Miss Betsey's occasionally ejaculating 'Ha!' as -she sat with her feet upon the fender. - -'David had bought an annuity for himself with his money, I know,' said -she, by and by. 'What did he do for you?' - -'Mr. Copperfield,' said my mother, answering with some difficulty, 'was -so considerate and good as to secure the reversion of a part of it to -me.' - -'How much?' asked Miss Betsey. - -'A hundred and five pounds a year,' said my mother. - -'He might have done worse,' said my aunt. - -The word was appropriate to the moment. My mother was so much worse -that Peggotty, coming in with the teaboard and candles, and seeing at a -glance how ill she was,--as Miss Betsey might have done sooner if there -had been light enough,--conveyed her upstairs to her own room with all -speed; and immediately dispatched Ham Peggotty, her nephew, who had been -for some days past secreted in the house, unknown to my mother, as a -special messenger in case of emergency, to fetch the nurse and doctor. - -Those allied powers were considerably astonished, when they arrived -within a few minutes of each other, to find an unknown lady of -portentous appearance, sitting before the fire, with her bonnet tied -over her left arm, stopping her ears with jewellers' cotton. Peggotty -knowing nothing about her, and my mother saying nothing about her, -she was quite a mystery in the parlour; and the fact of her having a -magazine of jewellers' cotton in her pocket, and sticking the article -in her ears in that way, did not detract from the solemnity of her -presence. - -The doctor having been upstairs and come down again, and having -satisfied himself, I suppose, that there was a probability of this -unknown lady and himself having to sit there, face to face, for some -hours, laid himself out to be polite and social. He was the meekest of -his sex, the mildest of little men. He sidled in and out of a room, to -take up the less space. He walked as softly as the Ghost in Hamlet, -and more slowly. He carried his head on one side, partly in modest -depreciation of himself, partly in modest propitiation of everybody -else. It is nothing to say that he hadn't a word to throw at a dog. He -couldn't have thrown a word at a mad dog. He might have offered him one -gently, or half a one, or a fragment of one; for he spoke as slowly as -he walked; but he wouldn't have been rude to him, and he couldn't have -been quick with him, for any earthly consideration. - -Mr. Chillip, looking mildly at my aunt with his head on one side, and -making her a little bow, said, in allusion to the jewellers' cotton, as -he softly touched his left ear: - -'Some local irritation, ma'am?' - -'What!' replied my aunt, pulling the cotton out of one ear like a cork. - -Mr. Chillip was so alarmed by her abruptness--as he told my mother -afterwards--that it was a mercy he didn't lose his presence of mind. But -he repeated sweetly: - -'Some local irritation, ma'am?' - -'Nonsense!' replied my aunt, and corked herself again, at one blow. - -Mr. Chillip could do nothing after this, but sit and look at her feebly, -as she sat and looked at the fire, until he was called upstairs again. -After some quarter of an hour's absence, he returned. - -'Well?' said my aunt, taking the cotton out of the ear nearest to him. - -'Well, ma'am,' returned Mr. Chillip, 'we are--we are progressing slowly, -ma'am.' - -'Ba--a--ah!' said my aunt, with a perfect shake on the contemptuous -interjection. And corked herself as before. - -Really--really--as Mr. Chillip told my mother, he was almost shocked; -speaking in a professional point of view alone, he was almost shocked. -But he sat and looked at her, notwithstanding, for nearly two hours, -as she sat looking at the fire, until he was again called out. After -another absence, he again returned. - -'Well?' said my aunt, taking out the cotton on that side again. - -'Well, ma'am,' returned Mr. Chillip, 'we are--we are progressing slowly, -ma'am.' - -'Ya--a--ah!' said my aunt. With such a snarl at him, that Mr. Chillip -absolutely could not bear it. It was really calculated to break his -spirit, he said afterwards. He preferred to go and sit upon the stairs, -in the dark and a strong draught, until he was again sent for. - -Ham Peggotty, who went to the national school, and was a very dragon at -his catechism, and who may therefore be regarded as a credible witness, -reported next day, that happening to peep in at the parlour-door an hour -after this, he was instantly descried by Miss Betsey, then walking to -and fro in a state of agitation, and pounced upon before he could make -his escape. That there were now occasional sounds of feet and voices -overhead which he inferred the cotton did not exclude, from the -circumstance of his evidently being clutched by the lady as a victim on -whom to expend her superabundant agitation when the sounds were loudest. -That, marching him constantly up and down by the collar (as if he had -been taking too much laudanum), she, at those times, shook him, rumpled -his hair, made light of his linen, stopped his ears as if she confounded -them with her own, and otherwise tousled and maltreated him. This was -in part confirmed by his aunt, who saw him at half past twelve o'clock, -soon after his release, and affirmed that he was then as red as I was. - -The mild Mr. Chillip could not possibly bear malice at such a time, if -at any time. He sidled into the parlour as soon as he was at liberty, -and said to my aunt in his meekest manner: - -'Well, ma'am, I am happy to congratulate you.' - -'What upon?' said my aunt, sharply. - -Mr. Chillip was fluttered again, by the extreme severity of my aunt's -manner; so he made her a little bow and gave her a little smile, to -mollify her. - -'Mercy on the man, what's he doing!' cried my aunt, impatiently. 'Can't -he speak?' - -'Be calm, my dear ma'am,' said Mr. Chillip, in his softest accents. - -'There is no longer any occasion for uneasiness, ma'am. Be calm.' - -It has since been considered almost a miracle that my aunt didn't shake -him, and shake what he had to say, out of him. She only shook her own -head at him, but in a way that made him quail. - -'Well, ma'am,' resumed Mr. Chillip, as soon as he had courage, 'I am -happy to congratulate you. All is now over, ma'am, and well over.' - -During the five minutes or so that Mr. Chillip devoted to the delivery -of this oration, my aunt eyed him narrowly. - -'How is she?' said my aunt, folding her arms with her bonnet still tied -on one of them. - -'Well, ma'am, she will soon be quite comfortable, I hope,' returned Mr. -Chillip. 'Quite as comfortable as we can expect a young mother to be, -under these melancholy domestic circumstances. There cannot be any -objection to your seeing her presently, ma'am. It may do her good.' - -'And SHE. How is SHE?' said my aunt, sharply. - -Mr. Chillip laid his head a little more on one side, and looked at my -aunt like an amiable bird. - -'The baby,' said my aunt. 'How is she?' - -'Ma'am,' returned Mr. Chillip, 'I apprehended you had known. It's a -boy.' - -My aunt said never a word, but took her bonnet by the strings, in the -manner of a sling, aimed a blow at Mr. Chillip's head with it, put it on -bent, walked out, and never came back. She vanished like a discontented -fairy; or like one of those supernatural beings, whom it was popularly -supposed I was entitled to see; and never came back any more. - -No. I lay in my basket, and my mother lay in her bed; but Betsey -Trotwood Copperfield was for ever in the land of dreams and shadows, the -tremendous region whence I had so lately travelled; and the light upon -the window of our room shone out upon the earthly bourne of all such -travellers, and the mound above the ashes and the dust that once was he, -without whom I had never been. - - - -CHAPTER 2. I OBSERVE - - -The first objects that assume a distinct presence before me, as I look -far back, into the blank of my infancy, are my mother with her pretty -hair and youthful shape, and Peggotty with no shape at all, and eyes so -dark that they seemed to darken their whole neighbourhood in her face, -and cheeks and arms so hard and red that I wondered the birds didn't -peck her in preference to apples. - -I believe I can remember these two at a little distance apart, dwarfed -to my sight by stooping down or kneeling on the floor, and I going -unsteadily from the one to the other. I have an impression on my mind -which I cannot distinguish from actual remembrance, of the touch of -Peggotty's forefinger as she used to hold it out to me, and of its being -roughened by needlework, like a pocket nutmeg-grater. - -This may be fancy, though I think the memory of most of us can go -farther back into such times than many of us suppose; just as I believe -the power of observation in numbers of very young children to be quite -wonderful for its closeness and accuracy. Indeed, I think that most -grown men who are remarkable in this respect, may with greater propriety -be said not to have lost the faculty, than to have acquired it; the -rather, as I generally observe such men to retain a certain freshness, -and gentleness, and capacity of being pleased, which are also an -inheritance they have preserved from their childhood. - -I might have a misgiving that I am 'meandering' in stopping to say this, -but that it brings me to remark that I build these conclusions, in part -upon my own experience of myself; and if it should appear from -anything I may set down in this narrative that I was a child of close -observation, or that as a man I have a strong memory of my childhood, I -undoubtedly lay claim to both of these characteristics. - -Looking back, as I was saying, into the blank of my infancy, the first -objects I can remember as standing out by themselves from a confusion of -things, are my mother and Peggotty. What else do I remember? Let me see. - - -There comes out of the cloud, our house--not new to me, but quite -familiar, in its earliest remembrance. On the ground-floor is Peggotty's -kitchen, opening into a back yard; with a pigeon-house on a pole, in -the centre, without any pigeons in it; a great dog-kennel in a corner, -without any dog; and a quantity of fowls that look terribly tall to me, -walking about, in a menacing and ferocious manner. There is one cock who -gets upon a post to crow, and seems to take particular notice of me as -I look at him through the kitchen window, who makes me shiver, he is so -fierce. Of the geese outside the side-gate who come waddling after -me with their long necks stretched out when I go that way, I dream at -night: as a man environed by wild beasts might dream of lions. - -Here is a long passage--what an enormous perspective I make of -it!--leading from Peggotty's kitchen to the front door. A dark -store-room opens out of it, and that is a place to be run past at -night; for I don't know what may be among those tubs and jars and old -tea-chests, when there is nobody in there with a dimly-burning light, -letting a mouldy air come out of the door, in which there is the smell -of soap, pickles, pepper, candles, and coffee, all at one whiff. Then -there are the two parlours: the parlour in which we sit of an evening, -my mother and I and Peggotty--for Peggotty is quite our companion, when -her work is done and we are alone--and the best parlour where we sit -on a Sunday; grandly, but not so comfortably. There is something of a -doleful air about that room to me, for Peggotty has told me--I don't -know when, but apparently ages ago--about my father's funeral, and the -company having their black cloaks put on. One Sunday night my mother -reads to Peggotty and me in there, how Lazarus was raised up from the -dead. And I am so frightened that they are afterwards obliged to take me -out of bed, and show me the quiet churchyard out of the bedroom window, -with the dead all lying in their graves at rest, below the solemn moon. - -There is nothing half so green that I know anywhere, as the grass of -that churchyard; nothing half so shady as its trees; nothing half so -quiet as its tombstones. The sheep are feeding there, when I kneel up, -early in the morning, in my little bed in a closet within my mother's -room, to look out at it; and I see the red light shining on the -sun-dial, and think within myself, 'Is the sun-dial glad, I wonder, that -it can tell the time again?' - -Here is our pew in the church. What a high-backed pew! With a window -near it, out of which our house can be seen, and IS seen many times -during the morning's service, by Peggotty, who likes to make herself -as sure as she can that it's not being robbed, or is not in flames. But -though Peggotty's eye wanders, she is much offended if mine does, -and frowns to me, as I stand upon the seat, that I am to look at the -clergyman. But I can't always look at him--I know him without that white -thing on, and I am afraid of his wondering why I stare so, and perhaps -stopping the service to inquire--and what am I to do? It's a dreadful -thing to gape, but I must do something. I look at my mother, but she -pretends not to see me. I look at a boy in the aisle, and he makes faces -at me. I look at the sunlight coming in at the open door through -the porch, and there I see a stray sheep--I don't mean a sinner, but -mutton--half making up his mind to come into the church. I feel that -if I looked at him any longer, I might be tempted to say something out -loud; and what would become of me then! I look up at the monumental -tablets on the wall, and try to think of Mr. Bodgers late of this -parish, and what the feelings of Mrs. Bodgers must have been, when -affliction sore, long time Mr. Bodgers bore, and physicians were in -vain. I wonder whether they called in Mr. Chillip, and he was in vain; -and if so, how he likes to be reminded of it once a week. I look from -Mr. Chillip, in his Sunday neckcloth, to the pulpit; and think what a -good place it would be to play in, and what a castle it would make, with -another boy coming up the stairs to attack it, and having the velvet -cushion with the tassels thrown down on his head. In time my eyes -gradually shut up; and, from seeming to hear the clergyman singing a -drowsy song in the heat, I hear nothing, until I fall off the seat with -a crash, and am taken out, more dead than alive, by Peggotty. - -And now I see the outside of our house, with the latticed -bedroom-windows standing open to let in the sweet-smelling air, and the -ragged old rooks'-nests still dangling in the elm-trees at the bottom -of the front garden. Now I am in the garden at the back, beyond the -yard where the empty pigeon-house and dog-kennel are--a very preserve -of butterflies, as I remember it, with a high fence, and a gate and -padlock; where the fruit clusters on the trees, riper and richer than -fruit has ever been since, in any other garden, and where my -mother gathers some in a basket, while I stand by, bolting furtive -gooseberries, and trying to look unmoved. A great wind rises, and the -summer is gone in a moment. We are playing in the winter twilight, -dancing about the parlour. When my mother is out of breath and rests -herself in an elbow-chair, I watch her winding her bright curls round -her fingers, and straitening her waist, and nobody knows better than I -do that she likes to look so well, and is proud of being so pretty. - -That is among my very earliest impressions. That, and a sense that we -were both a little afraid of Peggotty, and submitted ourselves in most -things to her direction, were among the first opinions--if they may be -so called--that I ever derived from what I saw. - -Peggotty and I were sitting one night by the parlour fire, alone. I -had been reading to Peggotty about crocodiles. I must have read very -perspicuously, or the poor soul must have been deeply interested, for I -remember she had a cloudy impression, after I had done, that they were -a sort of vegetable. I was tired of reading, and dead sleepy; but -having leave, as a high treat, to sit up until my mother came home from -spending the evening at a neighbour's, I would rather have died upon -my post (of course) than have gone to bed. I had reached that stage of -sleepiness when Peggotty seemed to swell and grow immensely large. -I propped my eyelids open with my two forefingers, and looked -perseveringly at her as she sat at work; at the little bit of wax-candle -she kept for her thread--how old it looked, being so wrinkled in -all directions!--at the little house with a thatched roof, where the -yard-measure lived; at her work-box with a sliding lid, with a view of -St. Paul's Cathedral (with a pink dome) painted on the top; at the brass -thimble on her finger; at herself, whom I thought lovely. I felt so -sleepy, that I knew if I lost sight of anything for a moment, I was -gone. - -'Peggotty,' says I, suddenly, 'were you ever married?' - -'Lord, Master Davy,' replied Peggotty. 'What's put marriage in your -head?' - -She answered with such a start, that it quite awoke me. And then she -stopped in her work, and looked at me, with her needle drawn out to its -thread's length. - -'But WERE you ever married, Peggotty?' says I. 'You are a very handsome -woman, an't you?' - -I thought her in a different style from my mother, certainly; but of -another school of beauty, I considered her a perfect example. There -was a red velvet footstool in the best parlour, on which my mother -had painted a nosegay. The ground-work of that stool, and Peggotty's -complexion appeared to me to be one and the same thing. The stool was -smooth, and Peggotty was rough, but that made no difference. - -'Me handsome, Davy!' said Peggotty. 'Lawk, no, my dear! But what put -marriage in your head?' - -'I don't know!--You mustn't marry more than one person at a time, may -you, Peggotty?' - -'Certainly not,' says Peggotty, with the promptest decision. - -'But if you marry a person, and the person dies, why then you may marry -another person, mayn't you, Peggotty?' - -'YOU MAY,' says Peggotty, 'if you choose, my dear. That's a matter of -opinion.' - -'But what is your opinion, Peggotty?' said I. - -I asked her, and looked curiously at her, because she looked so -curiously at me. - -'My opinion is,' said Peggotty, taking her eyes from me, after a little -indecision and going on with her work, 'that I never was married myself, -Master Davy, and that I don't expect to be. That's all I know about the -subject.' - -'You an't cross, I suppose, Peggotty, are you?' said I, after sitting -quiet for a minute. - -I really thought she was, she had been so short with me; but I was quite -mistaken: for she laid aside her work (which was a stocking of her own), -and opening her arms wide, took my curly head within them, and gave it -a good squeeze. I know it was a good squeeze, because, being very plump, -whenever she made any little exertion after she was dressed, some of the -buttons on the back of her gown flew off. And I recollect two bursting -to the opposite side of the parlour, while she was hugging me. - -'Now let me hear some more about the Crorkindills,' said Peggotty, who -was not quite right in the name yet, 'for I an't heard half enough.' - -I couldn't quite understand why Peggotty looked so queer, or why she -was so ready to go back to the crocodiles. However, we returned to those -monsters, with fresh wakefulness on my part, and we left their eggs in -the sand for the sun to hatch; and we ran away from them, and baffled -them by constantly turning, which they were unable to do quickly, on -account of their unwieldy make; and we went into the water after them, -as natives, and put sharp pieces of timber down their throats; and in -short we ran the whole crocodile gauntlet. I did, at least; but I had -my doubts of Peggotty, who was thoughtfully sticking her needle into -various parts of her face and arms, all the time. - -We had exhausted the crocodiles, and begun with the alligators, when -the garden-bell rang. We went out to the door; and there was my mother, -looking unusually pretty, I thought, and with her a gentleman with -beautiful black hair and whiskers, who had walked home with us from -church last Sunday. - -As my mother stooped down on the threshold to take me in her arms and -kiss me, the gentleman said I was a more highly privileged little fellow -than a monarch--or something like that; for my later understanding -comes, I am sensible, to my aid here. - -'What does that mean?' I asked him, over her shoulder. - -He patted me on the head; but somehow, I didn't like him or his deep -voice, and I was jealous that his hand should touch my mother's in -touching me--which it did. I put it away, as well as I could. - -'Oh, Davy!' remonstrated my mother. - -'Dear boy!' said the gentleman. 'I cannot wonder at his devotion!' - -I never saw such a beautiful colour on my mother's face before. She -gently chid me for being rude; and, keeping me close to her shawl, -turned to thank the gentleman for taking so much trouble as to bring her -home. She put out her hand to him as she spoke, and, as he met it with -his own, she glanced, I thought, at me. - -'Let us say "good night", my fine boy,' said the gentleman, when he had -bent his head--I saw him!--over my mother's little glove. - -'Good night!' said I. - -'Come! Let us be the best friends in the world!' said the gentleman, -laughing. 'Shake hands!' - -My right hand was in my mother's left, so I gave him the other. - -'Why, that's the Wrong hand, Davy!' laughed the gentleman. - -My mother drew my right hand forward, but I was resolved, for my former -reason, not to give it him, and I did not. I gave him the other, and he -shook it heartily, and said I was a brave fellow, and went away. - -At this minute I see him turn round in the garden, and give us a last -look with his ill-omened black eyes, before the door was shut. - -Peggotty, who had not said a word or moved a finger, secured the -fastenings instantly, and we all went into the parlour. My mother, -contrary to her usual habit, instead of coming to the elbow-chair by the -fire, remained at the other end of the room, and sat singing to herself. ---'Hope you have had a pleasant evening, ma'am,' said Peggotty, standing -as stiff as a barrel in the centre of the room, with a candlestick in -her hand. - -'Much obliged to you, Peggotty,' returned my mother, in a cheerful -voice, 'I have had a VERY pleasant evening.' - -'A stranger or so makes an agreeable change,' suggested Peggotty. - -'A very agreeable change, indeed,' returned my mother. - -Peggotty continuing to stand motionless in the middle of the room, and -my mother resuming her singing, I fell asleep, though I was not so sound -asleep but that I could hear voices, without hearing what they said. -When I half awoke from this uncomfortable doze, I found Peggotty and my -mother both in tears, and both talking. - -'Not such a one as this, Mr. Copperfield wouldn't have liked,' said -Peggotty. 'That I say, and that I swear!' - -'Good Heavens!' cried my mother, 'you'll drive me mad! Was ever any -poor girl so ill-used by her servants as I am! Why do I do myself -the injustice of calling myself a girl? Have I never been married, -Peggotty?' - -'God knows you have, ma'am,' returned Peggotty. 'Then, how can you -dare,' said my mother--'you know I don't mean how can you dare, -Peggotty, but how can you have the heart--to make me so uncomfortable -and say such bitter things to me, when you are well aware that I -haven't, out of this place, a single friend to turn to?' - -'The more's the reason,' returned Peggotty, 'for saying that it won't -do. No! That it won't do. No! No price could make it do. No!'--I thought -Peggotty would have thrown the candlestick away, she was so emphatic -with it. - -'How can you be so aggravating,' said my mother, shedding more tears -than before, 'as to talk in such an unjust manner! How can you go on as -if it was all settled and arranged, Peggotty, when I tell you over -and over again, you cruel thing, that beyond the commonest civilities -nothing has passed! You talk of admiration. What am I to do? If people -are so silly as to indulge the sentiment, is it my fault? What am I to -do, I ask you? Would you wish me to shave my head and black my face, or -disfigure myself with a burn, or a scald, or something of that sort? I -dare say you would, Peggotty. I dare say you'd quite enjoy it.' - -Peggotty seemed to take this aspersion very much to heart, I thought. - -'And my dear boy,' cried my mother, coming to the elbow-chair in which -I was, and caressing me, 'my own little Davy! Is it to be hinted to me -that I am wanting in affection for my precious treasure, the dearest -little fellow that ever was!' - -'Nobody never went and hinted no such a thing,' said Peggotty. - -'You did, Peggotty!' returned my mother. 'You know you did. What else -was it possible to infer from what you said, you unkind creature, -when you know as well as I do, that on his account only last quarter I -wouldn't buy myself a new parasol, though that old green one is frayed -the whole way up, and the fringe is perfectly mangy? You know it is, -Peggotty. You can't deny it.' Then, turning affectionately to me, with -her cheek against mine, 'Am I a naughty mama to you, Davy? Am I a nasty, -cruel, selfish, bad mama? Say I am, my child; say "yes", dear boy, and -Peggotty will love you; and Peggotty's love is a great deal better than -mine, Davy. I don't love you at all, do I?' - -At this, we all fell a-crying together. I think I was the loudest of -the party, but I am sure we were all sincere about it. I was quite -heart-broken myself, and am afraid that in the first transports of -wounded tenderness I called Peggotty a 'Beast'. That honest creature was -in deep affliction, I remember, and must have become quite buttonless -on the occasion; for a little volley of those explosives went off, -when, after having made it up with my mother, she kneeled down by the -elbow-chair, and made it up with me. - -We went to bed greatly dejected. My sobs kept waking me, for a long -time; and when one very strong sob quite hoisted me up in bed, I found -my mother sitting on the coverlet, and leaning over me. I fell asleep in -her arms, after that, and slept soundly. - -Whether it was the following Sunday when I saw the gentleman again, -or whether there was any greater lapse of time before he reappeared, -I cannot recall. I don't profess to be clear about dates. But there he -was, in church, and he walked home with us afterwards. He came in, too, -to look at a famous geranium we had, in the parlour-window. It did not -appear to me that he took much notice of it, but before he went he asked -my mother to give him a bit of the blossom. She begged him to choose it -for himself, but he refused to do that--I could not understand why--so -she plucked it for him, and gave it into his hand. He said he would -never, never part with it any more; and I thought he must be quite a -fool not to know that it would fall to pieces in a day or two. - -Peggotty began to be less with us, of an evening, than she had always -been. My mother deferred to her very much--more than usual, it occurred -to me--and we were all three excellent friends; still we were different -from what we used to be, and were not so comfortable among ourselves. -Sometimes I fancied that Peggotty perhaps objected to my mother's -wearing all the pretty dresses she had in her drawers, or to her -going so often to visit at that neighbour's; but I couldn't, to my -satisfaction, make out how it was. - -Gradually, I became used to seeing the gentleman with the black -whiskers. I liked him no better than at first, and had the same uneasy -jealousy of him; but if I had any reason for it beyond a child's -instinctive dislike, and a general idea that Peggotty and I could make -much of my mother without any help, it certainly was not THE reason that -I might have found if I had been older. No such thing came into my mind, -or near it. I could observe, in little pieces, as it were; but as to -making a net of a number of these pieces, and catching anybody in it, -that was, as yet, beyond me. - -One autumn morning I was with my mother in the front garden, when Mr. -Murdstone--I knew him by that name now--came by, on horseback. He reined -up his horse to salute my mother, and said he was going to Lowestoft to -see some friends who were there with a yacht, and merrily proposed to -take me on the saddle before him if I would like the ride. - -The air was so clear and pleasant, and the horse seemed to like the -idea of the ride so much himself, as he stood snorting and pawing at the -garden-gate, that I had a great desire to go. So I was sent upstairs -to Peggotty to be made spruce; and in the meantime Mr. Murdstone -dismounted, and, with his horse's bridle drawn over his arm, walked -slowly up and down on the outer side of the sweetbriar fence, while my -mother walked slowly up and down on the inner to keep him company. I -recollect Peggotty and I peeping out at them from my little window; I -recollect how closely they seemed to be examining the sweetbriar between -them, as they strolled along; and how, from being in a perfectly angelic -temper, Peggotty turned cross in a moment, and brushed my hair the wrong -way, excessively hard. - -Mr. Murdstone and I were soon off, and trotting along on the green turf -by the side of the road. He held me quite easily with one arm, and I -don't think I was restless usually; but I could not make up my mind to -sit in front of him without turning my head sometimes, and looking up in -his face. He had that kind of shallow black eye--I want a better word to -express an eye that has no depth in it to be looked into--which, when -it is abstracted, seems from some peculiarity of light to be disfigured, -for a moment at a time, by a cast. Several times when I glanced at him, -I observed that appearance with a sort of awe, and wondered what he -was thinking about so closely. His hair and whiskers were blacker and -thicker, looked at so near, than even I had given them credit for being. -A squareness about the lower part of his face, and the dotted indication -of the strong black beard he shaved close every day, reminded me of -the wax-work that had travelled into our neighbourhood some half-a-year -before. This, his regular eyebrows, and the rich white, and black, and -brown, of his complexion--confound his complexion, and his memory!--made -me think him, in spite of my misgivings, a very handsome man. I have no -doubt that my poor dear mother thought him so too. - -We went to an hotel by the sea, where two gentlemen were smoking cigars -in a room by themselves. Each of them was lying on at least four chairs, -and had a large rough jacket on. In a corner was a heap of coats and -boat-cloaks, and a flag, all bundled up together. - -They both rolled on to their feet in an untidy sort of manner, when we -came in, and said, 'Halloa, Murdstone! We thought you were dead!' - -'Not yet,' said Mr. Murdstone. - -'And who's this shaver?' said one of the gentlemen, taking hold of me. - -'That's Davy,' returned Mr. Murdstone. - -'Davy who?' said the gentleman. 'Jones?' - -'Copperfield,' said Mr. Murdstone. - -'What! Bewitching Mrs. Copperfield's encumbrance?' cried the gentleman. -'The pretty little widow?' - -'Quinion,' said Mr. Murdstone, 'take care, if you please. Somebody's -sharp.' - -'Who is?' asked the gentleman, laughing. I looked up, quickly; being -curious to know. - -'Only Brooks of Sheffield,' said Mr. Murdstone. - -I was quite relieved to find that it was only Brooks of Sheffield; for, -at first, I really thought it was I. - -There seemed to be something very comical in the reputation of Mr. -Brooks of Sheffield, for both the gentlemen laughed heartily when he -was mentioned, and Mr. Murdstone was a good deal amused also. After some -laughing, the gentleman whom he had called Quinion, said: - -'And what is the opinion of Brooks of Sheffield, in reference to the -projected business?' - -'Why, I don't know that Brooks understands much about it at present,' -replied Mr. Murdstone; 'but he is not generally favourable, I believe.' - -There was more laughter at this, and Mr. Quinion said he would ring the -bell for some sherry in which to drink to Brooks. This he did; and when -the wine came, he made me have a little, with a biscuit, and, before -I drank it, stand up and say, 'Confusion to Brooks of Sheffield!' The -toast was received with great applause, and such hearty laughter that -it made me laugh too; at which they laughed the more. In short, we quite -enjoyed ourselves. - -We walked about on the cliff after that, and sat on the grass, and -looked at things through a telescope--I could make out nothing myself -when it was put to my eye, but I pretended I could--and then we came -back to the hotel to an early dinner. All the time we were out, the two -gentlemen smoked incessantly--which, I thought, if I might judge from -the smell of their rough coats, they must have been doing, ever since -the coats had first come home from the tailor's. I must not forget that -we went on board the yacht, where they all three descended into the -cabin, and were busy with some papers. I saw them quite hard at work, -when I looked down through the open skylight. They left me, during this -time, with a very nice man with a very large head of red hair and a very -small shiny hat upon it, who had got a cross-barred shirt or waistcoat -on, with 'Skylark' in capital letters across the chest. I thought it was -his name; and that as he lived on board ship and hadn't a street door -to put his name on, he put it there instead; but when I called him Mr. -Skylark, he said it meant the vessel. - -I observed all day that Mr. Murdstone was graver and steadier than the -two gentlemen. They were very gay and careless. They joked freely with -one another, but seldom with him. It appeared to me that he was -more clever and cold than they were, and that they regarded him with -something of my own feeling. I remarked that, once or twice when Mr. -Quinion was talking, he looked at Mr. Murdstone sideways, as if to make -sure of his not being displeased; and that once when Mr. Passnidge (the -other gentleman) was in high spirits, he trod upon his foot, and gave -him a secret caution with his eyes, to observe Mr. Murdstone, who was -sitting stern and silent. Nor do I recollect that Mr. Murdstone laughed -at all that day, except at the Sheffield joke--and that, by the by, was -his own. - -We went home early in the evening. It was a very fine evening, and my -mother and he had another stroll by the sweetbriar, while I was sent in -to get my tea. When he was gone, my mother asked me all about the day I -had had, and what they had said and done. I mentioned what they had said -about her, and she laughed, and told me they were impudent fellows who -talked nonsense--but I knew it pleased her. I knew it quite as well as -I know it now. I took the opportunity of asking if she was at all -acquainted with Mr. Brooks of Sheffield, but she answered No, only she -supposed he must be a manufacturer in the knife and fork way. - -Can I say of her face--altered as I have reason to remember it, perished -as I know it is--that it is gone, when here it comes before me at this -instant, as distinct as any face that I may choose to look on in a -crowded street? Can I say of her innocent and girlish beauty, that it -faded, and was no more, when its breath falls on my cheek now, as it -fell that night? Can I say she ever changed, when my remembrance brings -her back to life, thus only; and, truer to its loving youth than I have -been, or man ever is, still holds fast what it cherished then? - -I write of her just as she was when I had gone to bed after this talk, -and she came to bid me good night. She kneeled down playfully by the -side of the bed, and laying her chin upon her hands, and laughing, said: - -'What was it they said, Davy? Tell me again. I can't believe it.' - -'"Bewitching--"' I began. - -My mother put her hands upon my lips to stop me. - -'It was never bewitching,' she said, laughing. 'It never could have been -bewitching, Davy. Now I know it wasn't!' - -'Yes, it was. "Bewitching Mrs. Copperfield",' I repeated stoutly. 'And, -"pretty."' - -'No, no, it was never pretty. Not pretty,' interposed my mother, laying -her fingers on my lips again. - -'Yes it was. "Pretty little widow."' - -'What foolish, impudent creatures!' cried my mother, laughing and -covering her face. 'What ridiculous men! An't they? Davy dear--' - -'Well, Ma.' - -'Don't tell Peggotty; she might be angry with them. I am dreadfully -angry with them myself; but I would rather Peggotty didn't know.' - -I promised, of course; and we kissed one another over and over again, -and I soon fell fast asleep. - -It seems to me, at this distance of time, as if it were the next day -when Peggotty broached the striking and adventurous proposition I am -about to mention; but it was probably about two months afterwards. - -We were sitting as before, one evening (when my mother was out as -before), in company with the stocking and the yard-measure, and the bit -of wax, and the box with St. Paul's on the lid, and the crocodile book, -when Peggotty, after looking at me several times, and opening her mouth -as if she were going to speak, without doing it--which I thought was -merely gaping, or I should have been rather alarmed--said coaxingly: - -'Master Davy, how should you like to go along with me and spend a -fortnight at my brother's at Yarmouth? Wouldn't that be a treat?' - -'Is your brother an agreeable man, Peggotty?' I inquired, provisionally. - -'Oh, what an agreeable man he is!' cried Peggotty, holding up her hands. -'Then there's the sea; and the boats and ships; and the fishermen; and -the beach; and Am to play with--' - -Peggotty meant her nephew Ham, mentioned in my first chapter; but she -spoke of him as a morsel of English Grammar. - -I was flushed by her summary of delights, and replied that it would -indeed be a treat, but what would my mother say? - -'Why then I'll as good as bet a guinea,' said Peggotty, intent upon my -face, 'that she'll let us go. I'll ask her, if you like, as soon as ever -she comes home. There now!' - -'But what's she to do while we're away?' said I, putting my small elbows -on the table to argue the point. 'She can't live by herself.' - -If Peggotty were looking for a hole, all of a sudden, in the heel of -that stocking, it must have been a very little one indeed, and not worth -darning. - -'I say! Peggotty! She can't live by herself, you know.' - -'Oh, bless you!' said Peggotty, looking at me again at last. 'Don't -you know? She's going to stay for a fortnight with Mrs. Grayper. Mrs. -Grayper's going to have a lot of company.' - -Oh! If that was it, I was quite ready to go. I waited, in the utmost -impatience, until my mother came home from Mrs. Grayper's (for it was -that identical neighbour), to ascertain if we could get leave to carry -out this great idea. Without being nearly so much surprised as I had -expected, my mother entered into it readily; and it was all arranged -that night, and my board and lodging during the visit were to be paid -for. - -The day soon came for our going. It was such an early day that it came -soon, even to me, who was in a fever of expectation, and half afraid -that an earthquake or a fiery mountain, or some other great convulsion -of nature, might interpose to stop the expedition. We were to go in a -carrier's cart, which departed in the morning after breakfast. I would -have given any money to have been allowed to wrap myself up over-night, -and sleep in my hat and boots. - -It touches me nearly now, although I tell it lightly, to recollect how -eager I was to leave my happy home; to think how little I suspected what -I did leave for ever. - -I am glad to recollect that when the carrier's cart was at the gate, and -my mother stood there kissing me, a grateful fondness for her and for -the old place I had never turned my back upon before, made me cry. I am -glad to know that my mother cried too, and that I felt her heart beat -against mine. - -I am glad to recollect that when the carrier began to move, my mother -ran out at the gate, and called to him to stop, that she might kiss me -once more. I am glad to dwell upon the earnestness and love with which -she lifted up her face to mine, and did so. - -As we left her standing in the road, Mr. Murdstone came up to where -she was, and seemed to expostulate with her for being so moved. I was -looking back round the awning of the cart, and wondered what business -it was of his. Peggotty, who was also looking back on the other side, -seemed anything but satisfied; as the face she brought back in the cart -denoted. - -I sat looking at Peggotty for some time, in a reverie on this -supposititious case: whether, if she were employed to lose me like the -boy in the fairy tale, I should be able to track my way home again by -the buttons she would shed. - - - -CHAPTER 3. I HAVE A CHANGE - - -The carrier's horse was the laziest horse in the world, I should hope, -and shuffled along, with his head down, as if he liked to keep people -waiting to whom the packages were directed. I fancied, indeed, that he -sometimes chuckled audibly over this reflection, but the carrier said -he was only troubled with a cough. The carrier had a way of keeping his -head down, like his horse, and of drooping sleepily forward as he drove, -with one of his arms on each of his knees. I say 'drove', but it struck -me that the cart would have gone to Yarmouth quite as well without him, -for the horse did all that; and as to conversation, he had no idea of it -but whistling. - -Peggotty had a basket of refreshments on her knee, which would have -lasted us out handsomely, if we had been going to London by the same -conveyance. We ate a good deal, and slept a good deal. Peggotty always -went to sleep with her chin upon the handle of the basket, her hold of -which never relaxed; and I could not have believed unless I had heard -her do it, that one defenceless woman could have snored so much. - -We made so many deviations up and down lanes, and were such a long time -delivering a bedstead at a public-house, and calling at other places, -that I was quite tired, and very glad, when we saw Yarmouth. It looked -rather spongy and soppy, I thought, as I carried my eye over the great -dull waste that lay across the river; and I could not help wondering, if -the world were really as round as my geography book said, how any -part of it came to be so flat. But I reflected that Yarmouth might be -situated at one of the poles; which would account for it. - -As we drew a little nearer, and saw the whole adjacent prospect lying a -straight low line under the sky, I hinted to Peggotty that a mound or so -might have improved it; and also that if the land had been a little more -separated from the sea, and the town and the tide had not been quite -so much mixed up, like toast and water, it would have been nicer. But -Peggotty said, with greater emphasis than usual, that we must take -things as we found them, and that, for her part, she was proud to call -herself a Yarmouth Bloater. - -When we got into the street (which was strange enough to me) and smelt -the fish, and pitch, and oakum, and tar, and saw the sailors walking -about, and the carts jingling up and down over the stones, I felt that I -had done so busy a place an injustice; and said as much to Peggotty, who -heard my expressions of delight with great complacency, and told me it -was well known (I suppose to those who had the good fortune to be born -Bloaters) that Yarmouth was, upon the whole, the finest place in the -universe. - -'Here's my Am!' screamed Peggotty, 'growed out of knowledge!' - -He was waiting for us, in fact, at the public-house; and asked me how I -found myself, like an old acquaintance. I did not feel, at first, that -I knew him as well as he knew me, because he had never come to our house -since the night I was born, and naturally he had the advantage of me. -But our intimacy was much advanced by his taking me on his back to carry -me home. He was, now, a huge, strong fellow of six feet high, broad in -proportion, and round-shouldered; but with a simpering boy's face and -curly light hair that gave him quite a sheepish look. He was dressed in -a canvas jacket, and a pair of such very stiff trousers that they -would have stood quite as well alone, without any legs in them. And you -couldn't so properly have said he wore a hat, as that he was covered in -a-top, like an old building, with something pitchy. - -Ham carrying me on his back and a small box of ours under his arm, -and Peggotty carrying another small box of ours, we turned down lanes -bestrewn with bits of chips and little hillocks of sand, and went -past gas-works, rope-walks, boat-builders' yards, shipwrights' yards, -ship-breakers' yards, caulkers' yards, riggers' lofts, smiths' forges, -and a great litter of such places, until we came out upon the dull waste -I had already seen at a distance; when Ham said, - -'Yon's our house, Mas'r Davy!' - -I looked in all directions, as far as I could stare over the wilderness, -and away at the sea, and away at the river, but no house could I make -out. There was a black barge, or some other kind of superannuated boat, -not far off, high and dry on the ground, with an iron funnel sticking -out of it for a chimney and smoking very cosily; but nothing else in the -way of a habitation that was visible to me. - -'That's not it?' said I. 'That ship-looking thing?' - -'That's it, Mas'r Davy,' returned Ham. - -If it had been Aladdin's palace, roc's egg and all, I suppose I could -not have been more charmed with the romantic idea of living in it. There -was a delightful door cut in the side, and it was roofed in, and there -were little windows in it; but the wonderful charm of it was, that -it was a real boat which had no doubt been upon the water hundreds of -times, and which had never been intended to be lived in, on dry land. -That was the captivation of it to me. If it had ever been meant to be -lived in, I might have thought it small, or inconvenient, or lonely; but -never having been designed for any such use, it became a perfect abode. - -It was beautifully clean inside, and as tidy as possible. There was a -table, and a Dutch clock, and a chest of drawers, and on the chest of -drawers there was a tea-tray with a painting on it of a lady with a -parasol, taking a walk with a military-looking child who was trundling a -hoop. The tray was kept from tumbling down, by a bible; and the tray, if -it had tumbled down, would have smashed a quantity of cups and saucers -and a teapot that were grouped around the book. On the walls there were -some common coloured pictures, framed and glazed, of scripture subjects; -such as I have never seen since in the hands of pedlars, without seeing -the whole interior of Peggotty's brother's house again, at one view. -Abraham in red going to sacrifice Isaac in blue, and Daniel in yellow -cast into a den of green lions, were the most prominent of these. Over -the little mantelshelf, was a picture of the 'Sarah Jane' lugger, built -at Sunderland, with a real little wooden stern stuck on to it; a work of -art, combining composition with carpentry, which I considered to be one -of the most enviable possessions that the world could afford. There -were some hooks in the beams of the ceiling, the use of which I did not -divine then; and some lockers and boxes and conveniences of that sort, -which served for seats and eked out the chairs. - -All this I saw in the first glance after I crossed the -threshold--child-like, according to my theory--and then Peggotty opened -a little door and showed me my bedroom. It was the completest and most -desirable bedroom ever seen--in the stern of the vessel; with a little -window, where the rudder used to go through; a little looking-glass, -just the right height for me, nailed against the wall, and framed with -oyster-shells; a little bed, which there was just room enough to get -into; and a nosegay of seaweed in a blue mug on the table. The walls -were whitewashed as white as milk, and the patchwork counterpane made my -eyes quite ache with its brightness. One thing I particularly noticed -in this delightful house, was the smell of fish; which was so searching, -that when I took out my pocket-handkerchief to wipe my nose, I found it -smelt exactly as if it had wrapped up a lobster. On my imparting this -discovery in confidence to Peggotty, she informed me that her brother -dealt in lobsters, crabs, and crawfish; and I afterwards found that a -heap of these creatures, in a state of wonderful conglomeration with one -another, and never leaving off pinching whatever they laid hold of, -were usually to be found in a little wooden outhouse where the pots and -kettles were kept. - -We were welcomed by a very civil woman in a white apron, whom I had seen -curtseying at the door when I was on Ham's back, about a quarter of a -mile off. Likewise by a most beautiful little girl (or I thought her so) -with a necklace of blue beads on, who wouldn't let me kiss her when I -offered to, but ran away and hid herself. By and by, when we had dined -in a sumptuous manner off boiled dabs, melted butter, and potatoes, with -a chop for me, a hairy man with a very good-natured face came home. As -he called Peggotty 'Lass', and gave her a hearty smack on the cheek, I -had no doubt, from the general propriety of her conduct, that he was her -brother; and so he turned out--being presently introduced to me as Mr. -Peggotty, the master of the house. - -'Glad to see you, sir,' said Mr. Peggotty. 'You'll find us rough, sir, -but you'll find us ready.' - -I thanked him, and replied that I was sure I should be happy in such a -delightful place. - -'How's your Ma, sir?' said Mr. Peggotty. 'Did you leave her pretty -jolly?' - -I gave Mr. Peggotty to understand that she was as jolly as I could wish, -and that she desired her compliments--which was a polite fiction on my -part. - -'I'm much obleeged to her, I'm sure,' said Mr. Peggotty. 'Well, sir, -if you can make out here, fur a fortnut, 'long wi' her,' nodding at his -sister, 'and Ham, and little Em'ly, we shall be proud of your company.' - -Having done the honours of his house in this hospitable manner, Mr. -Peggotty went out to wash himself in a kettleful of hot water, remarking -that 'cold would never get his muck off'. He soon returned, greatly -improved in appearance; but so rubicund, that I couldn't help -thinking his face had this in common with the lobsters, crabs, and -crawfish,--that it went into the hot water very black, and came out very -red. - -After tea, when the door was shut and all was made snug (the nights -being cold and misty now), it seemed to me the most delicious retreat -that the imagination of man could conceive. To hear the wind getting -up out at sea, to know that the fog was creeping over the desolate flat -outside, and to look at the fire, and think that there was no house near -but this one, and this one a boat, was like enchantment. Little Em'ly -had overcome her shyness, and was sitting by my side upon the lowest and -least of the lockers, which was just large enough for us two, and just -fitted into the chimney corner. Mrs. Peggotty with the white apron, was -knitting on the opposite side of the fire. Peggotty at her needlework -was as much at home with St. Paul's and the bit of wax-candle, as if -they had never known any other roof. Ham, who had been giving me my -first lesson in all-fours, was trying to recollect a scheme of telling -fortunes with the dirty cards, and was printing off fishy impressions of -his thumb on all the cards he turned. Mr. Peggotty was smoking his pipe. -I felt it was a time for conversation and confidence. - -'Mr. Peggotty!' says I. - -'Sir,' says he. - -'Did you give your son the name of Ham, because you lived in a sort of -ark?' - -Mr. Peggotty seemed to think it a deep idea, but answered: - -'No, sir. I never giv him no name.' - -'Who gave him that name, then?' said I, putting question number two of -the catechism to Mr. Peggotty. - -'Why, sir, his father giv it him,' said Mr. Peggotty. - -'I thought you were his father!' - -'My brother Joe was his father,' said Mr. Peggotty. - -'Dead, Mr. Peggotty?' I hinted, after a respectful pause. - -'Drowndead,' said Mr. Peggotty. - -I was very much surprised that Mr. Peggotty was not Ham's father, and -began to wonder whether I was mistaken about his relationship to anybody -else there. I was so curious to know, that I made up my mind to have it -out with Mr. Peggotty. - -'Little Em'ly,' I said, glancing at her. 'She is your daughter, isn't -she, Mr. Peggotty?' - -'No, sir. My brother-in-law, Tom, was her father.' - -I couldn't help it. '--Dead, Mr. Peggotty?' I hinted, after another -respectful silence. - -'Drowndead,' said Mr. Peggotty. - -I felt the difficulty of resuming the subject, but had not got to the -bottom of it yet, and must get to the bottom somehow. So I said: - -'Haven't you ANY children, Mr. Peggotty?' - -'No, master,' he answered with a short laugh. 'I'm a bacheldore.' - -'A bachelor!' I said, astonished. 'Why, who's that, Mr. Peggotty?' -pointing to the person in the apron who was knitting. - -'That's Missis Gummidge,' said Mr. Peggotty. - -'Gummidge, Mr. Peggotty?' - -But at this point Peggotty--I mean my own peculiar Peggotty--made such -impressive motions to me not to ask any more questions, that I could -only sit and look at all the silent company, until it was time to go to -bed. Then, in the privacy of my own little cabin, she informed me that -Ham and Em'ly were an orphan nephew and niece, whom my host had -at different times adopted in their childhood, when they were left -destitute: and that Mrs. Gummidge was the widow of his partner in -a boat, who had died very poor. He was but a poor man himself, said -Peggotty, but as good as gold and as true as steel--those were her -similes. The only subject, she informed me, on which he ever showed a -violent temper or swore an oath, was this generosity of his; and if it -were ever referred to, by any one of them, he struck the table a heavy -blow with his right hand (had split it on one such occasion), and swore -a dreadful oath that he would be 'Gormed' if he didn't cut and run -for good, if it was ever mentioned again. It appeared, in answer to -my inquiries, that nobody had the least idea of the etymology of this -terrible verb passive to be gormed; but that they all regarded it as -constituting a most solemn imprecation. - -I was very sensible of my entertainer's goodness, and listened to the -women's going to bed in another little crib like mine at the opposite -end of the boat, and to him and Ham hanging up two hammocks for -themselves on the hooks I had noticed in the roof, in a very luxurious -state of mind, enhanced by my being sleepy. As slumber gradually stole -upon me, I heard the wind howling out at sea and coming on across the -flat so fiercely, that I had a lazy apprehension of the great deep -rising in the night. But I bethought myself that I was in a boat, after -all; and that a man like Mr. Peggotty was not a bad person to have on -board if anything did happen. - -Nothing happened, however, worse than morning. Almost as soon as it -shone upon the oyster-shell frame of my mirror I was out of bed, and out -with little Em'ly, picking up stones upon the beach. - -'You're quite a sailor, I suppose?' I said to Em'ly. I don't know that I -supposed anything of the kind, but I felt it an act of gallantry to -say something; and a shining sail close to us made such a pretty little -image of itself, at the moment, in her bright eye, that it came into my -head to say this. - -'No,' replied Em'ly, shaking her head, 'I'm afraid of the sea.' - -'Afraid!' I said, with a becoming air of boldness, and looking very big -at the mighty ocean. 'I an't!' - -'Ah! but it's cruel,' said Em'ly. 'I have seen it very cruel to some of -our men. I have seen it tear a boat as big as our house, all to pieces.' - -'I hope it wasn't the boat that--' - -'That father was drownded in?' said Em'ly. 'No. Not that one, I never -see that boat.' - -'Nor him?' I asked her. - -Little Em'ly shook her head. 'Not to remember!' - -Here was a coincidence! I immediately went into an explanation how I had -never seen my own father; and how my mother and I had always lived -by ourselves in the happiest state imaginable, and lived so then, and -always meant to live so; and how my father's grave was in the churchyard -near our house, and shaded by a tree, beneath the boughs of which I had -walked and heard the birds sing many a pleasant morning. But there were -some differences between Em'ly's orphanhood and mine, it appeared. She -had lost her mother before her father; and where her father's grave was -no one knew, except that it was somewhere in the depths of the sea. - -'Besides,' said Em'ly, as she looked about for shells and pebbles, 'your -father was a gentleman and your mother is a lady; and my father was a -fisherman and my mother was a fisherman's daughter, and my uncle Dan is -a fisherman.' - -'Dan is Mr. Peggotty, is he?' said I. - -'Uncle Dan--yonder,' answered Em'ly, nodding at the boat-house. - -'Yes. I mean him. He must be very good, I should think?' - -'Good?' said Em'ly. 'If I was ever to be a lady, I'd give him a sky-blue -coat with diamond buttons, nankeen trousers, a red velvet waistcoat, a -cocked hat, a large gold watch, a silver pipe, and a box of money.' - -I said I had no doubt that Mr. Peggotty well deserved these treasures. -I must acknowledge that I felt it difficult to picture him quite at his -ease in the raiment proposed for him by his grateful little niece, and -that I was particularly doubtful of the policy of the cocked hat; but I -kept these sentiments to myself. - -Little Em'ly had stopped and looked up at the sky in her enumeration -of these articles, as if they were a glorious vision. We went on again, -picking up shells and pebbles. - -'You would like to be a lady?' I said. - -Emily looked at me, and laughed and nodded 'yes'. - -'I should like it very much. We would all be gentlefolks together, then. -Me, and uncle, and Ham, and Mrs. Gummidge. We wouldn't mind then, when -there comes stormy weather.---Not for our own sakes, I mean. We would -for the poor fishermen's, to be sure, and we'd help 'em with money when -they come to any hurt.' This seemed to me to be a very satisfactory and -therefore not at all improbable picture. I expressed my pleasure in the -contemplation of it, and little Em'ly was emboldened to say, shyly, - -'Don't you think you are afraid of the sea, now?' - -It was quiet enough to reassure me, but I have no doubt if I had seen a -moderately large wave come tumbling in, I should have taken to my heels, -with an awful recollection of her drowned relations. However, I said -'No,' and I added, 'You don't seem to be either, though you say you -are,'--for she was walking much too near the brink of a sort of old -jetty or wooden causeway we had strolled upon, and I was afraid of her -falling over. - -'I'm not afraid in this way,' said little Em'ly. 'But I wake when it -blows, and tremble to think of Uncle Dan and Ham and believe I hear 'em -crying out for help. That's why I should like so much to be a lady. But -I'm not afraid in this way. Not a bit. Look here!' - -She started from my side, and ran along a jagged timber which protruded -from the place we stood upon, and overhung the deep water at some -height, without the least defence. The incident is so impressed on my -remembrance, that if I were a draughtsman I could draw its form here, -I dare say, accurately as it was that day, and little Em'ly springing -forward to her destruction (as it appeared to me), with a look that I -have never forgotten, directed far out to sea. - -The light, bold, fluttering little figure turned and came back safe -to me, and I soon laughed at my fears, and at the cry I had uttered; -fruitlessly in any case, for there was no one near. But there have been -times since, in my manhood, many times there have been, when I have -thought, Is it possible, among the possibilities of hidden things, that -in the sudden rashness of the child and her wild look so far off, there -was any merciful attraction of her into danger, any tempting her towards -him permitted on the part of her dead father, that her life might have -a chance of ending that day? There has been a time since when I have -wondered whether, if the life before her could have been revealed to me -at a glance, and so revealed as that a child could fully comprehend it, -and if her preservation could have depended on a motion of my hand, I -ought to have held it up to save her. There has been a time since--I do -not say it lasted long, but it has been--when I have asked myself the -question, would it have been better for little Em'ly to have had the -waters close above her head that morning in my sight; and when I have -answered Yes, it would have been. - -This may be premature. I have set it down too soon, perhaps. But let it -stand. - -We strolled a long way, and loaded ourselves with things that we thought -curious, and put some stranded starfish carefully back into the water--I -hardly know enough of the race at this moment to be quite certain -whether they had reason to feel obliged to us for doing so, or the -reverse--and then made our way home to Mr. Peggotty's dwelling. We -stopped under the lee of the lobster-outhouse to exchange an innocent -kiss, and went in to breakfast glowing with health and pleasure. - -'Like two young mavishes,' Mr. Peggotty said. I knew this meant, in our -local dialect, like two young thrushes, and received it as a compliment. - -Of course I was in love with little Em'ly. I am sure I loved that -baby quite as truly, quite as tenderly, with greater purity and more -disinterestedness, than can enter into the best love of a later time -of life, high and ennobling as it is. I am sure my fancy raised up -something round that blue-eyed mite of a child, which etherealized, -and made a very angel of her. If, any sunny forenoon, she had spread -a little pair of wings and flown away before my eyes, I don't think I -should have regarded it as much more than I had had reason to expect. - -We used to walk about that dim old flat at Yarmouth in a loving manner, -hours and hours. The days sported by us, as if Time had not grown up -himself yet, but were a child too, and always at play. I told Em'ly -I adored her, and that unless she confessed she adored me I should be -reduced to the necessity of killing myself with a sword. She said she -did, and I have no doubt she did. - -As to any sense of inequality, or youthfulness, or other difficulty -in our way, little Em'ly and I had no such trouble, because we had no -future. We made no more provision for growing older, than we did for -growing younger. We were the admiration of Mrs. Gummidge and Peggotty, -who used to whisper of an evening when we sat, lovingly, on our little -locker side by side, 'Lor! wasn't it beautiful!' Mr. Peggotty smiled at -us from behind his pipe, and Ham grinned all the evening and did nothing -else. They had something of the sort of pleasure in us, I suppose, that -they might have had in a pretty toy, or a pocket model of the Colosseum. - -I soon found out that Mrs. Gummidge did not always make herself so -agreeable as she might have been expected to do, under the circumstances -of her residence with Mr. Peggotty. Mrs. Gummidge's was rather a fretful -disposition, and she whimpered more sometimes than was comfortable for -other parties in so small an establishment. I was very sorry for -her; but there were moments when it would have been more agreeable, I -thought, if Mrs. Gummidge had had a convenient apartment of her own to -retire to, and had stopped there until her spirits revived. - -Mr. Peggotty went occasionally to a public-house called The Willing -Mind. I discovered this, by his being out on the second or third evening -of our visit, and by Mrs. Gummidge's looking up at the Dutch clock, -between eight and nine, and saying he was there, and that, what was -more, she had known in the morning he would go there. - -Mrs. Gummidge had been in a low state all day, and had burst into tears -in the forenoon, when the fire smoked. 'I am a lone lorn creetur',' were -Mrs. Gummidge's words, when that unpleasant occurrence took place, 'and -everythink goes contrary with me.' - -'Oh, it'll soon leave off,' said Peggotty--I again mean our -Peggotty--'and besides, you know, it's not more disagreeable to you than -to us.' - -'I feel it more,' said Mrs. Gummidge. - -It was a very cold day, with cutting blasts of wind. Mrs. Gummidge's -peculiar corner of the fireside seemed to me to be the warmest and -snuggest in the place, as her chair was certainly the easiest, but it -didn't suit her that day at all. She was constantly complaining of the -cold, and of its occasioning a visitation in her back which she called -'the creeps'. At last she shed tears on that subject, and said again -that she was 'a lone lorn creetur' and everythink went contrary with -her'. - -'It is certainly very cold,' said Peggotty. 'Everybody must feel it so.' - -'I feel it more than other people,' said Mrs. Gummidge. - -So at dinner; when Mrs. Gummidge was always helped immediately after me, -to whom the preference was given as a visitor of distinction. The -fish were small and bony, and the potatoes were a little burnt. We all -acknowledged that we felt this something of a disappointment; but Mrs. -Gummidge said she felt it more than we did, and shed tears again, and -made that former declaration with great bitterness. - -Accordingly, when Mr. Peggotty came home about nine o'clock, this -unfortunate Mrs. Gummidge was knitting in her corner, in a very wretched -and miserable condition. Peggotty had been working cheerfully. Ham had -been patching up a great pair of waterboots; and I, with little Em'ly -by my side, had been reading to them. Mrs. Gummidge had never made any -other remark than a forlorn sigh, and had never raised her eyes since -tea. - -'Well, Mates,' said Mr. Peggotty, taking his seat, 'and how are you?' - -We all said something, or looked something, to welcome him, except Mrs. -Gummidge, who only shook her head over her knitting. - -'What's amiss?' said Mr. Peggotty, with a clap of his hands. 'Cheer up, -old Mawther!' (Mr. Peggotty meant old girl.) - -Mrs. Gummidge did not appear to be able to cheer up. She took out an old -black silk handkerchief and wiped her eyes; but instead of putting it -in her pocket, kept it out, and wiped them again, and still kept it out, -ready for use. - -'What's amiss, dame?' said Mr. Peggotty. - -'Nothing,' returned Mrs. Gummidge. 'You've come from The Willing Mind, -Dan'l?' - -'Why yes, I've took a short spell at The Willing Mind tonight,' said Mr. -Peggotty. - -'I'm sorry I should drive you there,' said Mrs. Gummidge. - -'Drive! I don't want no driving,' returned Mr. Peggotty with an honest -laugh. 'I only go too ready.' - -'Very ready,' said Mrs. Gummidge, shaking her head, and wiping her eyes. -'Yes, yes, very ready. I am sorry it should be along of me that you're -so ready.' - -'Along o' you! It an't along o' you!' said Mr. Peggotty. 'Don't ye -believe a bit on it.' - -'Yes, yes, it is,' cried Mrs. Gummidge. 'I know what I am. I know that I -am a lone lorn creetur', and not only that everythink goes contrary with -me, but that I go contrary with everybody. Yes, yes. I feel more than -other people do, and I show it more. It's my misfortun'.' - -I really couldn't help thinking, as I sat taking in all this, that the -misfortune extended to some other members of that family besides Mrs. -Gummidge. But Mr. Peggotty made no such retort, only answering with -another entreaty to Mrs. Gummidge to cheer up. - -'I an't what I could wish myself to be,' said Mrs. Gummidge. 'I am far -from it. I know what I am. My troubles has made me contrary. I feel my -troubles, and they make me contrary. I wish I didn't feel 'em, but I -do. I wish I could be hardened to 'em, but I an't. I make the house -uncomfortable. I don't wonder at it. I've made your sister so all day, -and Master Davy.' - -Here I was suddenly melted, and roared out, 'No, you haven't, Mrs. -Gummidge,' in great mental distress. - -'It's far from right that I should do it,' said Mrs. Gummidge. 'It an't -a fit return. I had better go into the house and die. I am a lone lorn -creetur', and had much better not make myself contrary here. If thinks -must go contrary with me, and I must go contrary myself, let me go -contrary in my parish. Dan'l, I'd better go into the house, and die and -be a riddance!' - -Mrs. Gummidge retired with these words, and betook herself to bed. When -she was gone, Mr. Peggotty, who had not exhibited a trace of any feeling -but the profoundest sympathy, looked round upon us, and nodding his head -with a lively expression of that sentiment still animating his face, -said in a whisper: - -'She's been thinking of the old 'un!' - -I did not quite understand what old one Mrs. Gummidge was supposed to -have fixed her mind upon, until Peggotty, on seeing me to bed, explained -that it was the late Mr. Gummidge; and that her brother always took that -for a received truth on such occasions, and that it always had a moving -effect upon him. Some time after he was in his hammock that night, I -heard him myself repeat to Ham, 'Poor thing! She's been thinking of the -old 'un!' And whenever Mrs. Gummidge was overcome in a similar manner -during the remainder of our stay (which happened some few times), he -always said the same thing in extenuation of the circumstance, and -always with the tenderest commiseration. - -So the fortnight slipped away, varied by nothing but the variation of -the tide, which altered Mr. Peggotty's times of going out and coming in, -and altered Ham's engagements also. When the latter was unemployed, he -sometimes walked with us to show us the boats and ships, and once -or twice he took us for a row. I don't know why one slight set of -impressions should be more particularly associated with a place than -another, though I believe this obtains with most people, in reference -especially to the associations of their childhood. I never hear the -name, or read the name, of Yarmouth, but I am reminded of a certain -Sunday morning on the beach, the bells ringing for church, little Em'ly -leaning on my shoulder, Ham lazily dropping stones into the water, and -the sun, away at sea, just breaking through the heavy mist, and showing -us the ships, like their own shadows. - -At last the day came for going home. I bore up against the separation -from Mr. Peggotty and Mrs. Gummidge, but my agony of mind at leaving -little Em'ly was piercing. We went arm-in-arm to the public-house where -the carrier put up, and I promised, on the road, to write to her. (I -redeemed that promise afterwards, in characters larger than those in -which apartments are usually announced in manuscript, as being to let.) -We were greatly overcome at parting; and if ever, in my life, I have had -a void made in my heart, I had one made that day. - -Now, all the time I had been on my visit, I had been ungrateful to my -home again, and had thought little or nothing about it. But I was no -sooner turned towards it, than my reproachful young conscience seemed -to point that way with a ready finger; and I felt, all the more for the -sinking of my spirits, that it was my nest, and that my mother was my -comforter and friend. - -This gained upon me as we went along; so that the nearer we drew, the -more familiar the objects became that we passed, the more excited I was -to get there, and to run into her arms. But Peggotty, instead of sharing -in those transports, tried to check them (though very kindly), and -looked confused and out of sorts. - -Blunderstone Rookery would come, however, in spite of her, when the -carrier's horse pleased--and did. How well I recollect it, on a cold -grey afternoon, with a dull sky, threatening rain! - -The door opened, and I looked, half laughing and half crying in my -pleasant agitation, for my mother. It was not she, but a strange -servant. - -'Why, Peggotty!' I said, ruefully, 'isn't she come home?' - -'Yes, yes, Master Davy,' said Peggotty. 'She's come home. Wait a bit, -Master Davy, and I'll--I'll tell you something.' - -Between her agitation, and her natural awkwardness in getting out of the -cart, Peggotty was making a most extraordinary festoon of herself, but -I felt too blank and strange to tell her so. When she had got down, she -took me by the hand; led me, wondering, into the kitchen; and shut the -door. - -'Peggotty!' said I, quite frightened. 'What's the matter?' - -'Nothing's the matter, bless you, Master Davy dear!' she answered, -assuming an air of sprightliness. - -'Something's the matter, I'm sure. Where's mama?' - -'Where's mama, Master Davy?' repeated Peggotty. - -'Yes. Why hasn't she come out to the gate, and what have we come in here -for? Oh, Peggotty!' My eyes were full, and I felt as if I were going to -tumble down. - -'Bless the precious boy!' cried Peggotty, taking hold of me. 'What is -it? Speak, my pet!' - -'Not dead, too! Oh, she's not dead, Peggotty?' - -Peggotty cried out No! with an astonishing volume of voice; and then sat -down, and began to pant, and said I had given her a turn. - -I gave her a hug to take away the turn, or to give her another turn -in the right direction, and then stood before her, looking at her in -anxious inquiry. - -'You see, dear, I should have told you before now,' said Peggotty, -'but I hadn't an opportunity. I ought to have made it, perhaps, but -I couldn't azackly'--that was always the substitute for exactly, in -Peggotty's militia of words--'bring my mind to it.' - -'Go on, Peggotty,' said I, more frightened than before. - -'Master Davy,' said Peggotty, untying her bonnet with a shaking hand, -and speaking in a breathless sort of way. 'What do you think? You have -got a Pa!' - -I trembled, and turned white. Something--I don't know what, or -how--connected with the grave in the churchyard, and the raising of the -dead, seemed to strike me like an unwholesome wind. - -'A new one,' said Peggotty. - -'A new one?' I repeated. - -Peggotty gave a gasp, as if she were swallowing something that was very -hard, and, putting out her hand, said: - -'Come and see him.' - -'I don't want to see him.' --'And your mama,' said Peggotty. - -I ceased to draw back, and we went straight to the best parlour, where -she left me. On one side of the fire, sat my mother; on the other, Mr. -Murdstone. My mother dropped her work, and arose hurriedly, but timidly -I thought. - -'Now, Clara my dear,' said Mr. Murdstone. 'Recollect! control yourself, -always control yourself! Davy boy, how do you do?' - -I gave him my hand. After a moment of suspense, I went and kissed my -mother: she kissed me, patted me gently on the shoulder, and sat down -again to her work. I could not look at her, I could not look at him, -I knew quite well that he was looking at us both; and I turned to the -window and looked out there, at some shrubs that were drooping their -heads in the cold. - -As soon as I could creep away, I crept upstairs. My old dear bedroom was -changed, and I was to lie a long way off. I rambled downstairs to find -anything that was like itself, so altered it all seemed; and roamed into -the yard. I very soon started back from there, for the empty dog-kennel -was filled up with a great dog--deep mouthed and black-haired like -Him--and he was very angry at the sight of me, and sprang out to get at -me. - - - -CHAPTER 4. I FALL INTO DISGRACE - - -If the room to which my bed was removed were a sentient thing that could -give evidence, I might appeal to it at this day--who sleeps there now, -I wonder!--to bear witness for me what a heavy heart I carried to it. -I went up there, hearing the dog in the yard bark after me all the way -while I climbed the stairs; and, looking as blank and strange upon the -room as the room looked upon me, sat down with my small hands crossed, -and thought. - -I thought of the oddest things. Of the shape of the room, of the -cracks in the ceiling, of the paper on the walls, of the flaws in -the window-glass making ripples and dimples on the prospect, of the -washing-stand being rickety on its three legs, and having a discontented -something about it, which reminded me of Mrs. Gummidge under the -influence of the old one. I was crying all the time, but, except that I -was conscious of being cold and dejected, I am sure I never thought -why I cried. At last in my desolation I began to consider that I was -dreadfully in love with little Em'ly, and had been torn away from her to -come here where no one seemed to want me, or to care about me, half as -much as she did. This made such a very miserable piece of business of -it, that I rolled myself up in a corner of the counterpane, and cried -myself to sleep. - -I was awoke by somebody saying 'Here he is!' and uncovering my hot head. -My mother and Peggotty had come to look for me, and it was one of them -who had done it. - -'Davy,' said my mother. 'What's the matter?' - -I thought it was very strange that she should ask me, and answered, -'Nothing.' I turned over on my face, I recollect, to hide my trembling -lip, which answered her with greater truth. 'Davy,' said my mother. -'Davy, my child!' - -I dare say no words she could have uttered would have affected me -so much, then, as her calling me her child. I hid my tears in the -bedclothes, and pressed her from me with my hand, when she would have -raised me up. - -'This is your doing, Peggotty, you cruel thing!' said my mother. 'I have -no doubt at all about it. How can you reconcile it to your conscience, -I wonder, to prejudice my own boy against me, or against anybody who is -dear to me? What do you mean by it, Peggotty?' - -Poor Peggotty lifted up her hands and eyes, and only answered, in a -sort of paraphrase of the grace I usually repeated after dinner, 'Lord -forgive you, Mrs. Copperfield, and for what you have said this minute, -may you never be truly sorry!' - -'It's enough to distract me,' cried my mother. 'In my honeymoon, too, -when my most inveterate enemy might relent, one would think, and not -envy me a little peace of mind and happiness. Davy, you naughty boy! -Peggotty, you savage creature! Oh, dear me!' cried my mother, turning -from one of us to the other, in her pettish wilful manner, 'what a -troublesome world this is, when one has the most right to expect it to -be as agreeable as possible!' - -I felt the touch of a hand that I knew was neither hers nor Peggotty's, -and slipped to my feet at the bed-side. It was Mr. Murdstone's hand, and -he kept it on my arm as he said: - -'What's this? Clara, my love, have you forgotten?--Firmness, my dear!' - -'I am very sorry, Edward,' said my mother. 'I meant to be very good, but -I am so uncomfortable.' - -'Indeed!' he answered. 'That's a bad hearing, so soon, Clara.' - -'I say it's very hard I should be made so now,' returned my mother, -pouting; 'and it is--very hard--isn't it?' - -He drew her to him, whispered in her ear, and kissed her. I knew as -well, when I saw my mother's head lean down upon his shoulder, and her -arm touch his neck--I knew as well that he could mould her pliant nature -into any form he chose, as I know, now, that he did it. - -'Go you below, my love,' said Mr. Murdstone. 'David and I will come -down, together. My friend,' turning a darkening face on Peggotty, when -he had watched my mother out, and dismissed her with a nod and a smile; -'do you know your mistress's name?' - -'She has been my mistress a long time, sir,' answered Peggotty, 'I ought -to know it.' 'That's true,' he answered. 'But I thought I heard you, as -I came upstairs, address her by a name that is not hers. She has taken -mine, you know. Will you remember that?' - -Peggotty, with some uneasy glances at me, curtseyed herself out of the -room without replying; seeing, I suppose, that she was expected to go, -and had no excuse for remaining. When we two were left alone, he shut -the door, and sitting on a chair, and holding me standing before him, -looked steadily into my eyes. I felt my own attracted, no less steadily, -to his. As I recall our being opposed thus, face to face, I seem again -to hear my heart beat fast and high. - -'David,' he said, making his lips thin, by pressing them together, 'if I -have an obstinate horse or dog to deal with, what do you think I do?' - -'I don't know.' - -'I beat him.' - -I had answered in a kind of breathless whisper, but I felt, in my -silence, that my breath was shorter now. - -'I make him wince, and smart. I say to myself, "I'll conquer that -fellow"; and if it were to cost him all the blood he had, I should do -it. What is that upon your face?' - -'Dirt,' I said. - -He knew it was the mark of tears as well as I. But if he had asked the -question twenty times, each time with twenty blows, I believe my baby -heart would have burst before I would have told him so. - -'You have a good deal of intelligence for a little fellow,' he said, -with a grave smile that belonged to him, 'and you understood me very -well, I see. Wash that face, sir, and come down with me.' - -He pointed to the washing-stand, which I had made out to be like Mrs. -Gummidge, and motioned me with his head to obey him directly. I had -little doubt then, and I have less doubt now, that he would have knocked -me down without the least compunction, if I had hesitated. - -'Clara, my dear,' he said, when I had done his bidding, and he walked me -into the parlour, with his hand still on my arm; 'you will not be made -uncomfortable any more, I hope. We shall soon improve our youthful -humours.' - -God help me, I might have been improved for my whole life, I might have -been made another creature perhaps, for life, by a kind word at that -season. A word of encouragement and explanation, of pity for my childish -ignorance, of welcome home, of reassurance to me that it was home, might -have made me dutiful to him in my heart henceforth, instead of in my -hypocritical outside, and might have made me respect instead of hate -him. I thought my mother was sorry to see me standing in the room so -scared and strange, and that, presently, when I stole to a chair, she -followed me with her eyes more sorrowfully still--missing, perhaps, some -freedom in my childish tread--but the word was not spoken, and the time -for it was gone. - -We dined alone, we three together. He seemed to be very fond of my -mother--I am afraid I liked him none the better for that--and she was -very fond of him. I gathered from what they said, that an elder sister -of his was coming to stay with them, and that she was expected that -evening. I am not certain whether I found out then, or afterwards, that, -without being actively concerned in any business, he had some share in, -or some annual charge upon the profits of, a wine-merchant's house -in London, with which his family had been connected from his -great-grandfather's time, and in which his sister had a similar -interest; but I may mention it in this place, whether or no. - -After dinner, when we were sitting by the fire, and I was meditating an -escape to Peggotty without having the hardihood to slip away, lest -it should offend the master of the house, a coach drove up to the -garden-gate and he went out to receive the visitor. My mother followed -him. I was timidly following her, when she turned round at the parlour -door, in the dusk, and taking me in her embrace as she had been used to -do, whispered me to love my new father and be obedient to him. She did -this hurriedly and secretly, as if it were wrong, but tenderly; and, -putting out her hand behind her, held mine in it, until we came near -to where he was standing in the garden, where she let mine go, and drew -hers through his arm. - -It was Miss Murdstone who was arrived, and a gloomy-looking lady she -was; dark, like her brother, whom she greatly resembled in face and -voice; and with very heavy eyebrows, nearly meeting over her large nose, -as if, being disabled by the wrongs of her sex from wearing whiskers, -she had carried them to that account. She brought with her two -uncompromising hard black boxes, with her initials on the lids in hard -brass nails. When she paid the coachman she took her money out of a hard -steel purse, and she kept the purse in a very jail of a bag which hung -upon her arm by a heavy chain, and shut up like a bite. I had never, at -that time, seen such a metallic lady altogether as Miss Murdstone was. - -She was brought into the parlour with many tokens of welcome, and there -formally recognized my mother as a new and near relation. Then she -looked at me, and said: - -'Is that your boy, sister-in-law?' - -My mother acknowledged me. - -'Generally speaking,' said Miss Murdstone, 'I don't like boys. How d'ye -do, boy?' - -Under these encouraging circumstances, I replied that I was very well, -and that I hoped she was the same; with such an indifferent grace, that -Miss Murdstone disposed of me in two words: - -'Wants manner!' - -Having uttered which, with great distinctness, she begged the favour of -being shown to her room, which became to me from that time forth a place -of awe and dread, wherein the two black boxes were never seen open or -known to be left unlocked, and where (for I peeped in once or twice when -she was out) numerous little steel fetters and rivets, with which Miss -Murdstone embellished herself when she was dressed, generally hung upon -the looking-glass in formidable array. - -As well as I could make out, she had come for good, and had no intention -of ever going again. She began to 'help' my mother next morning, and was -in and out of the store-closet all day, putting things to rights, and -making havoc in the old arrangements. Almost the first remarkable thing -I observed in Miss Murdstone was, her being constantly haunted by -a suspicion that the servants had a man secreted somewhere on the -premises. Under the influence of this delusion, she dived into the -coal-cellar at the most untimely hours, and scarcely ever opened the -door of a dark cupboard without clapping it to again, in the belief that -she had got him. - -Though there was nothing very airy about Miss Murdstone, she was a -perfect Lark in point of getting up. She was up (and, as I believe -to this hour, looking for that man) before anybody in the house was -stirring. Peggotty gave it as her opinion that she even slept with one -eye open; but I could not concur in this idea; for I tried it myself -after hearing the suggestion thrown out, and found it couldn't be done. - -On the very first morning after her arrival she was up and ringing her -bell at cock-crow. When my mother came down to breakfast and was going -to make the tea, Miss Murdstone gave her a kind of peck on the cheek, -which was her nearest approach to a kiss, and said: - -'Now, Clara, my dear, I am come here, you know, to relieve you of all -the trouble I can. You're much too pretty and thoughtless'--my mother -blushed but laughed, and seemed not to dislike this character--'to have -any duties imposed upon you that can be undertaken by me. If you'll be -so good as give me your keys, my dear, I'll attend to all this sort of -thing in future.' - -From that time, Miss Murdstone kept the keys in her own little jail all -day, and under her pillow all night, and my mother had no more to do -with them than I had. - -My mother did not suffer her authority to pass from her without a shadow -of protest. One night when Miss Murdstone had been developing certain -household plans to her brother, of which he signified his approbation, -my mother suddenly began to cry, and said she thought she might have -been consulted. - -'Clara!' said Mr. Murdstone sternly. 'Clara! I wonder at you.' - -'Oh, it's very well to say you wonder, Edward!' cried my mother, 'and -it's very well for you to talk about firmness, but you wouldn't like it -yourself.' - -Firmness, I may observe, was the grand quality on which both Mr. and -Miss Murdstone took their stand. However I might have expressed -my comprehension of it at that time, if I had been called upon, I -nevertheless did clearly comprehend in my own way, that it was another -name for tyranny; and for a certain gloomy, arrogant, devil's humour, -that was in them both. The creed, as I should state it now, was this. -Mr. Murdstone was firm; nobody in his world was to be so firm as Mr. -Murdstone; nobody else in his world was to be firm at all, for everybody -was to be bent to his firmness. Miss Murdstone was an exception. -She might be firm, but only by relationship, and in an inferior and -tributary degree. My mother was another exception. She might be firm, -and must be; but only in bearing their firmness, and firmly believing -there was no other firmness upon earth. - -'It's very hard,' said my mother, 'that in my own house--' - -'My own house?' repeated Mr. Murdstone. 'Clara!' - -'OUR own house, I mean,' faltered my mother, evidently frightened--'I -hope you must know what I mean, Edward--it's very hard that in YOUR own -house I may not have a word to say about domestic matters. I am sure -I managed very well before we were married. There's evidence,' said my -mother, sobbing; 'ask Peggotty if I didn't do very well when I wasn't -interfered with!' - -'Edward,' said Miss Murdstone, 'let there be an end of this. I go -tomorrow.' - -'Jane Murdstone,' said her brother, 'be silent! How dare you to -insinuate that you don't know my character better than your words -imply?' - -'I am sure,' my poor mother went on, at a grievous disadvantage, and -with many tears, 'I don't want anybody to go. I should be very -miserable and unhappy if anybody was to go. I don't ask much. I am not -unreasonable. I only want to be consulted sometimes. I am very much -obliged to anybody who assists me, and I only want to be consulted as a -mere form, sometimes. I thought you were pleased, once, with my being a -little inexperienced and girlish, Edward--I am sure you said so--but you -seem to hate me for it now, you are so severe.' - -'Edward,' said Miss Murdstone, again, 'let there be an end of this. I go -tomorrow.' - -'Jane Murdstone,' thundered Mr. Murdstone. 'Will you be silent? How dare -you?' - -Miss Murdstone made a jail-delivery of her pocket-handkerchief, and held -it before her eyes. - -'Clara,' he continued, looking at my mother, 'you surprise me! You -astound me! Yes, I had a satisfaction in the thought of marrying -an inexperienced and artless person, and forming her character, and -infusing into it some amount of that firmness and decision of which -it stood in need. But when Jane Murdstone is kind enough to come to my -assistance in this endeavour, and to assume, for my sake, a condition -something like a housekeeper's, and when she meets with a base return--' - -'Oh, pray, pray, Edward,' cried my mother, 'don't accuse me of being -ungrateful. I am sure I am not ungrateful. No one ever said I was -before. I have many faults, but not that. Oh, don't, my dear!' - -'When Jane Murdstone meets, I say,' he went on, after waiting until my -mother was silent, 'with a base return, that feeling of mine is chilled -and altered.' - -'Don't, my love, say that!' implored my mother very piteously. -'Oh, don't, Edward! I can't bear to hear it. Whatever I am, I am -affectionate. I know I am affectionate. I wouldn't say it, if I -wasn't sure that I am. Ask Peggotty. I am sure she'll tell you I'm -affectionate.' - -'There is no extent of mere weakness, Clara,' said Mr. Murdstone in -reply, 'that can have the least weight with me. You lose breath.' - -'Pray let us be friends,' said my mother, 'I couldn't live under -coldness or unkindness. I am so sorry. I have a great many defects, I -know, and it's very good of you, Edward, with your strength of mind, to -endeavour to correct them for me. Jane, I don't object to anything. I -should be quite broken-hearted if you thought of leaving--' My mother -was too much overcome to go on. - -'Jane Murdstone,' said Mr. Murdstone to his sister, 'any harsh words -between us are, I hope, uncommon. It is not my fault that so unusual an -occurrence has taken place tonight. I was betrayed into it by another. -Nor is it your fault. You were betrayed into it by another. Let us both -try to forget it. And as this,' he added, after these magnanimous words, -'is not a fit scene for the boy--David, go to bed!' - -I could hardly find the door, through the tears that stood in my eyes. -I was so sorry for my mother's distress; but I groped my way out, and -groped my way up to my room in the dark, without even having the heart -to say good night to Peggotty, or to get a candle from her. When her -coming up to look for me, an hour or so afterwards, awoke me, she said -that my mother had gone to bed poorly, and that Mr. and Miss Murdstone -were sitting alone. - -Going down next morning rather earlier than usual, I paused outside the -parlour door, on hearing my mother's voice. She was very earnestly and -humbly entreating Miss Murdstone's pardon, which that lady granted, and -a perfect reconciliation took place. I never knew my mother afterwards -to give an opinion on any matter, without first appealing to Miss -Murdstone, or without having first ascertained by some sure means, what -Miss Murdstone's opinion was; and I never saw Miss Murdstone, when out -of temper (she was infirm that way), move her hand towards her bag as -if she were going to take out the keys and offer to resign them to my -mother, without seeing that my mother was in a terrible fright. - -The gloomy taint that was in the Murdstone blood, darkened the Murdstone -religion, which was austere and wrathful. I have thought, since, -that its assuming that character was a necessary consequence of Mr. -Murdstone's firmness, which wouldn't allow him to let anybody off from -the utmost weight of the severest penalties he could find any excuse -for. Be this as it may, I well remember the tremendous visages with -which we used to go to church, and the changed air of the place. Again, -the dreaded Sunday comes round, and I file into the old pew first, like -a guarded captive brought to a condemned service. Again, Miss Murdstone, -in a black velvet gown, that looks as if it had been made out of a pall, -follows close upon me; then my mother; then her husband. There is no -Peggotty now, as in the old time. Again, I listen to Miss Murdstone -mumbling the responses, and emphasizing all the dread words with a cruel -relish. Again, I see her dark eyes roll round the church when she says -'miserable sinners', as if she were calling all the congregation names. -Again, I catch rare glimpses of my mother, moving her lips timidly -between the two, with one of them muttering at each ear like low -thunder. Again, I wonder with a sudden fear whether it is likely that -our good old clergyman can be wrong, and Mr. and Miss Murdstone right, -and that all the angels in Heaven can be destroying angels. Again, if I -move a finger or relax a muscle of my face, Miss Murdstone pokes me with -her prayer-book, and makes my side ache. - -Yes, and again, as we walk home, I note some neighbours looking at my -mother and at me, and whispering. Again, as the three go on arm-in-arm, -and I linger behind alone, I follow some of those looks, and wonder if -my mother's step be really not so light as I have seen it, and if the -gaiety of her beauty be really almost worried away. Again, I wonder -whether any of the neighbours call to mind, as I do, how we used to -walk home together, she and I; and I wonder stupidly about that, all the -dreary dismal day. - -There had been some talk on occasions of my going to boarding-school. -Mr. and Miss Murdstone had originated it, and my mother had of course -agreed with them. Nothing, however, was concluded on the subject yet. -In the meantime, I learnt lessons at home. Shall I ever forget those -lessons! They were presided over nominally by my mother, but really by -Mr. Murdstone and his sister, who were always present, and found them -a favourable occasion for giving my mother lessons in that miscalled -firmness, which was the bane of both our lives. I believe I was kept -at home for that purpose. I had been apt enough to learn, and willing -enough, when my mother and I had lived alone together. I can faintly -remember learning the alphabet at her knee. To this day, when I look -upon the fat black letters in the primer, the puzzling novelty of their -shapes, and the easy good-nature of O and Q and S, seem to present -themselves again before me as they used to do. But they recall no -feeling of disgust or reluctance. On the contrary, I seem to have walked -along a path of flowers as far as the crocodile-book, and to have been -cheered by the gentleness of my mother's voice and manner all the -way. But these solemn lessons which succeeded those, I remember as the -death-blow of my peace, and a grievous daily drudgery and misery. They -were very long, very numerous, very hard--perfectly unintelligible, -some of them, to me--and I was generally as much bewildered by them as I -believe my poor mother was herself. - -Let me remember how it used to be, and bring one morning back again. - -I come into the second-best parlour after breakfast, with my books, -and an exercise-book, and a slate. My mother is ready for me at her -writing-desk, but not half so ready as Mr. Murdstone in his easy-chair -by the window (though he pretends to be reading a book), or as Miss -Murdstone, sitting near my mother stringing steel beads. The very sight -of these two has such an influence over me, that I begin to feel the -words I have been at infinite pains to get into my head, all sliding -away, and going I don't know where. I wonder where they do go, by the -by? - -I hand the first book to my mother. Perhaps it is a grammar, perhaps a -history, or geography. I take a last drowning look at the page as I give -it into her hand, and start off aloud at a racing pace while I have -got it fresh. I trip over a word. Mr. Murdstone looks up. I trip -over another word. Miss Murdstone looks up. I redden, tumble over -half-a-dozen words, and stop. I think my mother would show me the book -if she dared, but she does not dare, and she says softly: - -'Oh, Davy, Davy!' - -'Now, Clara,' says Mr. Murdstone, 'be firm with the boy. Don't say, "Oh, -Davy, Davy!" That's childish. He knows his lesson, or he does not know -it.' - -'He does NOT know it,' Miss Murdstone interposes awfully. - -'I am really afraid he does not,' says my mother. - -'Then, you see, Clara,' returns Miss Murdstone, 'you should just give -him the book back, and make him know it.' - -'Yes, certainly,' says my mother; 'that is what I intend to do, my dear -Jane. Now, Davy, try once more, and don't be stupid.' - -I obey the first clause of the injunction by trying once more, but am -not so successful with the second, for I am very stupid. I tumble down -before I get to the old place, at a point where I was all right before, -and stop to think. But I can't think about the lesson. I think of the -number of yards of net in Miss Murdstone's cap, or of the price of Mr. -Murdstone's dressing-gown, or any such ridiculous problem that I have -no business with, and don't want to have anything at all to do with. Mr. -Murdstone makes a movement of impatience which I have been expecting -for a long time. Miss Murdstone does the same. My mother glances -submissively at them, shuts the book, and lays it by as an arrear to be -worked out when my other tasks are done. - -There is a pile of these arrears very soon, and it swells like a rolling -snowball. The bigger it gets, the more stupid I get. The case is so -hopeless, and I feel that I am wallowing in such a bog of nonsense, that -I give up all idea of getting out, and abandon myself to my fate. The -despairing way in which my mother and I look at each other, as I blunder -on, is truly melancholy. But the greatest effect in these miserable -lessons is when my mother (thinking nobody is observing her) tries -to give me the cue by the motion of her lips. At that instant, Miss -Murdstone, who has been lying in wait for nothing else all along, says -in a deep warning voice: - -'Clara!' - -My mother starts, colours, and smiles faintly. Mr. Murdstone comes out -of his chair, takes the book, throws it at me or boxes my ears with it, -and turns me out of the room by the shoulders. - -Even when the lessons are done, the worst is yet to happen, in the shape -of an appalling sum. This is invented for me, and delivered to me orally -by Mr. Murdstone, and begins, 'If I go into a cheesemonger's shop, and -buy five thousand double-Gloucester cheeses at fourpence-halfpenny each, -present payment'--at which I see Miss Murdstone secretly overjoyed. -I pore over these cheeses without any result or enlightenment until -dinner-time, when, having made a Mulatto of myself by getting the dirt -of the slate into the pores of my skin, I have a slice of bread to help -me out with the cheeses, and am considered in disgrace for the rest of -the evening. - -It seems to me, at this distance of time, as if my unfortunate studies -generally took this course. I could have done very well if I had been -without the Murdstones; but the influence of the Murdstones upon me was -like the fascination of two snakes on a wretched young bird. Even when -I did get through the morning with tolerable credit, there was not -much gained but dinner; for Miss Murdstone never could endure to see me -untasked, and if I rashly made any show of being unemployed, called her -brother's attention to me by saying, 'Clara, my dear, there's nothing -like work--give your boy an exercise'; which caused me to be clapped -down to some new labour, there and then. As to any recreation with other -children of my age, I had very little of that; for the gloomy theology -of the Murdstones made all children out to be a swarm of little vipers -(though there WAS a child once set in the midst of the Disciples), and -held that they contaminated one another. - -The natural result of this treatment, continued, I suppose, for some six -months or more, was to make me sullen, dull, and dogged. I was not -made the less so by my sense of being daily more and more shut out and -alienated from my mother. I believe I should have been almost stupefied -but for one circumstance. - -It was this. My father had left a small collection of books in a little -room upstairs, to which I had access (for it adjoined my own) and which -nobody else in our house ever troubled. From that blessed little room, -Roderick Random, Peregrine Pickle, Humphrey Clinker, Tom Jones, the -Vicar of Wakefield, Don Quixote, Gil Blas, and Robinson Crusoe, came -out, a glorious host, to keep me company. They kept alive my fancy, and -my hope of something beyond that place and time,--they, and the Arabian -Nights, and the Tales of the Genii,--and did me no harm; for whatever -harm was in some of them was not there for me; I knew nothing of it. It -is astonishing to me now, how I found time, in the midst of my porings -and blunderings over heavier themes, to read those books as I did. It -is curious to me how I could ever have consoled myself under my -small troubles (which were great troubles to me), by impersonating my -favourite characters in them--as I did--and by putting Mr. and Miss -Murdstone into all the bad ones--which I did too. I have been Tom Jones -(a child's Tom Jones, a harmless creature) for a week together. I have -sustained my own idea of Roderick Random for a month at a stretch, I -verily believe. I had a greedy relish for a few volumes of Voyages and -Travels--I forget what, now--that were on those shelves; and for days -and days I can remember to have gone about my region of our house, -armed with the centre-piece out of an old set of boot-trees--the perfect -realization of Captain Somebody, of the Royal British Navy, in danger of -being beset by savages, and resolved to sell his life at a great price. -The Captain never lost dignity, from having his ears boxed with the -Latin Grammar. I did; but the Captain was a Captain and a hero, in -despite of all the grammars of all the languages in the world, dead or -alive. - -This was my only and my constant comfort. When I think of it, the -picture always rises in my mind, of a summer evening, the boys at play -in the churchyard, and I sitting on my bed, reading as if for life. -Every barn in the neighbourhood, every stone in the church, and every -foot of the churchyard, had some association of its own, in my mind, -connected with these books, and stood for some locality made famous in -them. I have seen Tom Pipes go climbing up the church-steeple; I have -watched Strap, with the knapsack on his back, stopping to rest himself -upon the wicket-gate; and I know that Commodore Trunnion held that club -with Mr. Pickle, in the parlour of our little village alehouse. - -The reader now understands, as well as I do, what I was when I came to -that point of my youthful history to which I am now coming again. - -One morning when I went into the parlour with my books, I found my -mother looking anxious, Miss Murdstone looking firm, and Mr. Murdstone -binding something round the bottom of a cane--a lithe and limber cane, -which he left off binding when I came in, and poised and switched in the -air. - -'I tell you, Clara,' said Mr. Murdstone, 'I have been often flogged -myself.' - -'To be sure; of course,' said Miss Murdstone. - -'Certainly, my dear Jane,' faltered my mother, meekly. 'But--but do you -think it did Edward good?' - -'Do you think it did Edward harm, Clara?' asked Mr. Murdstone, gravely. - -'That's the point,' said his sister. - -To this my mother returned, 'Certainly, my dear Jane,' and said no more. - -I felt apprehensive that I was personally interested in this dialogue, -and sought Mr. Murdstone's eye as it lighted on mine. - -'Now, David,' he said--and I saw that cast again as he said it--'you -must be far more careful today than usual.' He gave the cane another -poise, and another switch; and having finished his preparation of it, -laid it down beside him, with an impressive look, and took up his book. - -This was a good freshener to my presence of mind, as a beginning. I felt -the words of my lessons slipping off, not one by one, or line by line, -but by the entire page; I tried to lay hold of them; but they seemed, -if I may so express it, to have put skates on, and to skim away from me -with a smoothness there was no checking. - -We began badly, and went on worse. I had come in with an idea of -distinguishing myself rather, conceiving that I was very well prepared; -but it turned out to be quite a mistake. Book after book was added to -the heap of failures, Miss Murdstone being firmly watchful of us all the -time. And when we came at last to the five thousand cheeses (canes he -made it that day, I remember), my mother burst out crying. - -'Clara!' said Miss Murdstone, in her warning voice. - -'I am not quite well, my dear Jane, I think,' said my mother. - -I saw him wink, solemnly, at his sister, as he rose and said, taking up -the cane: - -'Why, Jane, we can hardly expect Clara to bear, with perfect firmness, -the worry and torment that David has occasioned her today. That would be -stoical. Clara is greatly strengthened and improved, but we can hardly -expect so much from her. David, you and I will go upstairs, boy.' - -As he took me out at the door, my mother ran towards us. Miss Murdstone -said, 'Clara! are you a perfect fool?' and interfered. I saw my mother -stop her ears then, and I heard her crying. - -He walked me up to my room slowly and gravely--I am certain he had a -delight in that formal parade of executing justice--and when we got -there, suddenly twisted my head under his arm. - -'Mr. Murdstone! Sir!' I cried to him. 'Don't! Pray don't beat me! I have -tried to learn, sir, but I can't learn while you and Miss Murdstone are -by. I can't indeed!' - -'Can't you, indeed, David?' he said. 'We'll try that.' - -He had my head as in a vice, but I twined round him somehow, and stopped -him for a moment, entreating him not to beat me. It was only a moment -that I stopped him, for he cut me heavily an instant afterwards, and in -the same instant I caught the hand with which he held me in my mouth, -between my teeth, and bit it through. It sets my teeth on edge to think -of it. - -He beat me then, as if he would have beaten me to death. Above all the -noise we made, I heard them running up the stairs, and crying out--I -heard my mother crying out--and Peggotty. Then he was gone; and the -door was locked outside; and I was lying, fevered and hot, and torn, and -sore, and raging in my puny way, upon the floor. - -How well I recollect, when I became quiet, what an unnatural stillness -seemed to reign through the whole house! How well I remember, when my -smart and passion began to cool, how wicked I began to feel! - -I sat listening for a long while, but there was not a sound. I crawled -up from the floor, and saw my face in the glass, so swollen, red, and -ugly that it almost frightened me. My stripes were sore and stiff, and -made me cry afresh, when I moved; but they were nothing to the guilt I -felt. It lay heavier on my breast than if I had been a most atrocious -criminal, I dare say. - -It had begun to grow dark, and I had shut the window (I had been lying, -for the most part, with my head upon the sill, by turns crying, dozing, -and looking listlessly out), when the key was turned, and Miss Murdstone -came in with some bread and meat, and milk. These she put down upon the -table without a word, glaring at me the while with exemplary firmness, -and then retired, locking the door after her. - -Long after it was dark I sat there, wondering whether anybody else would -come. When this appeared improbable for that night, I undressed, and -went to bed; and, there, I began to wonder fearfully what would be done -to me. Whether it was a criminal act that I had committed? Whether I -should be taken into custody, and sent to prison? Whether I was at all -in danger of being hanged? - -I never shall forget the waking, next morning; the being cheerful and -fresh for the first moment, and then the being weighed down by the stale -and dismal oppression of remembrance. Miss Murdstone reappeared before -I was out of bed; told me, in so many words, that I was free to walk in -the garden for half an hour and no longer; and retired, leaving the door -open, that I might avail myself of that permission. - -I did so, and did so every morning of my imprisonment, which lasted five -days. If I could have seen my mother alone, I should have gone down on -my knees to her and besought her forgiveness; but I saw no one, Miss -Murdstone excepted, during the whole time--except at evening prayers in -the parlour; to which I was escorted by Miss Murdstone after everybody -else was placed; where I was stationed, a young outlaw, all alone by -myself near the door; and whence I was solemnly conducted by my jailer, -before any one arose from the devotional posture. I only observed that -my mother was as far off from me as she could be, and kept her face -another way so that I never saw it; and that Mr. Murdstone's hand was -bound up in a large linen wrapper. - -The length of those five days I can convey no idea of to any one. They -occupy the place of years in my remembrance. The way in which I listened -to all the incidents of the house that made themselves audible to me; -the ringing of bells, the opening and shutting of doors, the murmuring -of voices, the footsteps on the stairs; to any laughing, whistling, or -singing, outside, which seemed more dismal than anything else to me in -my solitude and disgrace--the uncertain pace of the hours, especially -at night, when I would wake thinking it was morning, and find that the -family were not yet gone to bed, and that all the length of night had -yet to come--the depressed dreams and nightmares I had--the return of -day, noon, afternoon, evening, when the boys played in the churchyard, -and I watched them from a distance within the room, being ashamed to -show myself at the window lest they should know I was a prisoner--the -strange sensation of never hearing myself speak--the fleeting intervals -of something like cheerfulness, which came with eating and drinking, -and went away with it--the setting in of rain one evening, with a fresh -smell, and its coming down faster and faster between me and the church, -until it and gathering night seemed to quench me in gloom, and fear, and -remorse--all this appears to have gone round and round for years instead -of days, it is so vividly and strongly stamped on my remembrance. On the -last night of my restraint, I was awakened by hearing my own name spoken -in a whisper. I started up in bed, and putting out my arms in the dark, -said: - -'Is that you, Peggotty?' - -There was no immediate answer, but presently I heard my name again, in a -tone so very mysterious and awful, that I think I should have gone into -a fit, if it had not occurred to me that it must have come through the -keyhole. - -I groped my way to the door, and putting my own lips to the keyhole, -whispered: 'Is that you, Peggotty dear?' - -'Yes, my own precious Davy,' she replied. 'Be as soft as a mouse, or the -Cat'll hear us.' - -I understood this to mean Miss Murdstone, and was sensible of the -urgency of the case; her room being close by. - -'How's mama, dear Peggotty? Is she very angry with me?' - -I could hear Peggotty crying softly on her side of the keyhole, as I was -doing on mine, before she answered. 'No. Not very.' - -'What is going to be done with me, Peggotty dear? Do you know?' - -'School. Near London,' was Peggotty's answer. I was obliged to get her -to repeat it, for she spoke it the first time quite down my throat, -in consequence of my having forgotten to take my mouth away from the -keyhole and put my ear there; and though her words tickled me a good -deal, I didn't hear them. - -'When, Peggotty?' - -'Tomorrow.' - -'Is that the reason why Miss Murdstone took the clothes out of my -drawers?' which she had done, though I have forgotten to mention it. - -'Yes,' said Peggotty. 'Box.' - -'Shan't I see mama?' - -'Yes,' said Peggotty. 'Morning.' - -Then Peggotty fitted her mouth close to the keyhole, and delivered these -words through it with as much feeling and earnestness as a keyhole -has ever been the medium of communicating, I will venture to assert: -shooting in each broken little sentence in a convulsive little burst of -its own. - -'Davy, dear. If I ain't been azackly as intimate with you. Lately, as I -used to be. It ain't because I don't love you. Just as well and more, my -pretty poppet. It's because I thought it better for you. And for someone -else besides. Davy, my darling, are you listening? Can you hear?' - -'Ye-ye-ye-yes, Peggotty!' I sobbed. - -'My own!' said Peggotty, with infinite compassion. 'What I want to say, -is. That you must never forget me. For I'll never forget you. And I'll -take as much care of your mama, Davy. As ever I took of you. And I won't -leave her. The day may come when she'll be glad to lay her poor head. -On her stupid, cross old Peggotty's arm again. And I'll write to you, -my dear. Though I ain't no scholar. And I'll--I'll--' Peggotty fell to -kissing the keyhole, as she couldn't kiss me. - -'Thank you, dear Peggotty!' said I. 'Oh, thank you! Thank you! Will you -promise me one thing, Peggotty? Will you write and tell Mr. Peggotty and -little Em'ly, and Mrs. Gummidge and Ham, that I am not so bad as they -might suppose, and that I sent 'em all my love--especially to little -Em'ly? Will you, if you please, Peggotty?' - -The kind soul promised, and we both of us kissed the keyhole with the -greatest affection--I patted it with my hand, I recollect, as if it had -been her honest face--and parted. From that night there grew up in my -breast a feeling for Peggotty which I cannot very well define. She did -not replace my mother; no one could do that; but she came into a vacancy -in my heart, which closed upon her, and I felt towards her something -I have never felt for any other human being. It was a sort of comical -affection, too; and yet if she had died, I cannot think what I should -have done, or how I should have acted out the tragedy it would have been -to me. - -In the morning Miss Murdstone appeared as usual, and told me I was going -to school; which was not altogether such news to me as she supposed. She -also informed me that when I was dressed, I was to come downstairs into -the parlour, and have my breakfast. There, I found my mother, very pale -and with red eyes: into whose arms I ran, and begged her pardon from my -suffering soul. - -'Oh, Davy!' she said. 'That you could hurt anyone I love! Try to be -better, pray to be better! I forgive you; but I am so grieved, Davy, -that you should have such bad passions in your heart.' - -They had persuaded her that I was a wicked fellow, and she was more -sorry for that than for my going away. I felt it sorely. I tried to eat -my parting breakfast, but my tears dropped upon my bread-and-butter, -and trickled into my tea. I saw my mother look at me sometimes, and then -glance at the watchful Miss Murdstone, and than look down, or look away. - -'Master Copperfield's box there!' said Miss Murdstone, when wheels were -heard at the gate. - -I looked for Peggotty, but it was not she; neither she nor Mr. Murdstone -appeared. My former acquaintance, the carrier, was at the door. The box -was taken out to his cart, and lifted in. - -'Clara!' said Miss Murdstone, in her warning note. - -'Ready, my dear Jane,' returned my mother. 'Good-bye, Davy. You are -going for your own good. Good-bye, my child. You will come home in the -holidays, and be a better boy.' - -'Clara!' Miss Murdstone repeated. - -'Certainly, my dear Jane,' replied my mother, who was holding me. 'I -forgive you, my dear boy. God bless you!' - -'Clara!' Miss Murdstone repeated. - -Miss Murdstone was good enough to take me out to the cart, and to say on -the way that she hoped I would repent, before I came to a bad end; and -then I got into the cart, and the lazy horse walked off with it. - - - -CHAPTER 5. I AM SENT AWAY FROM HOME - - -We might have gone about half a mile, and my pocket-handkerchief was -quite wet through, when the carrier stopped short. Looking out to -ascertain for what, I saw, to My amazement, Peggotty burst from a hedge -and climb into the cart. She took me in both her arms, and squeezed me -to her stays until the pressure on my nose was extremely painful, though -I never thought of that till afterwards when I found it very tender. Not -a single word did Peggotty speak. Releasing one of her arms, she put -it down in her pocket to the elbow, and brought out some paper bags of -cakes which she crammed into my pockets, and a purse which she put into -my hand, but not one word did she say. After another and a final squeeze -with both arms, she got down from the cart and ran away; and, my belief -is, and has always been, without a solitary button on her gown. I -picked up one, of several that were rolling about, and treasured it as a -keepsake for a long time. - -The carrier looked at me, as if to inquire if she were coming back. I -shook my head, and said I thought not. 'Then come up,' said the carrier -to the lazy horse; who came up accordingly. - -Having by this time cried as much as I possibly could, I began to think -it was of no use crying any more, especially as neither Roderick Random, -nor that Captain in the Royal British Navy, had ever cried, that I -could remember, in trying situations. The carrier, seeing me in this -resolution, proposed that my pocket-handkerchief should be spread upon -the horse's back to dry. I thanked him, and assented; and particularly -small it looked, under those circumstances. - -I had now leisure to examine the purse. It was a stiff leather purse, -with a snap, and had three bright shillings in it, which Peggotty had -evidently polished up with whitening, for my greater delight. But its -most precious contents were two half-crowns folded together in a bit -of paper, on which was written, in my mother's hand, 'For Davy. With my -love.' I was so overcome by this, that I asked the carrier to be so good -as to reach me my pocket-handkerchief again; but he said he thought I -had better do without it, and I thought I really had, so I wiped my eyes -on my sleeve and stopped myself. - -For good, too; though, in consequence of my previous emotions, I was -still occasionally seized with a stormy sob. After we had jogged on for -some little time, I asked the carrier if he was going all the way. - -'All the way where?' inquired the carrier. - -'There,' I said. - -'Where's there?' inquired the carrier. - -'Near London,' I said. - -'Why that horse,' said the carrier, jerking the rein to point him out, -'would be deader than pork afore he got over half the ground.' - -'Are you only going to Yarmouth then?' I asked. - -'That's about it,' said the carrier. 'And there I shall take you to the -stage-cutch, and the stage-cutch that'll take you to--wherever it is.' - -As this was a great deal for the carrier (whose name was Mr. Barkis) -to say--he being, as I observed in a former chapter, of a phlegmatic -temperament, and not at all conversational--I offered him a cake as a -mark of attention, which he ate at one gulp, exactly like an elephant, -and which made no more impression on his big face than it would have -done on an elephant's. - -'Did SHE make 'em, now?' said Mr. Barkis, always leaning forward, in his -slouching way, on the footboard of the cart with an arm on each knee. - -'Peggotty, do you mean, sir?' - -'Ah!' said Mr. Barkis. 'Her.' - -'Yes. She makes all our pastry, and does all our cooking.' - -'Do she though?' said Mr. Barkis. He made up his mouth as if to whistle, -but he didn't whistle. He sat looking at the horse's ears, as if he saw -something new there; and sat so, for a considerable time. By and by, he -said: - -'No sweethearts, I b'lieve?' - -'Sweetmeats did you say, Mr. Barkis?' For I thought he wanted -something else to eat, and had pointedly alluded to that description of -refreshment. - -'Hearts,' said Mr. Barkis. 'Sweet hearts; no person walks with her!' - -'With Peggotty?' - -'Ah!' he said. 'Her.' - -'Oh, no. She never had a sweetheart.' - -'Didn't she, though!' said Mr. Barkis. - -Again he made up his mouth to whistle, and again he didn't whistle, but -sat looking at the horse's ears. - -'So she makes,' said Mr. Barkis, after a long interval of reflection, -'all the apple parsties, and doos all the cooking, do she?' - -I replied that such was the fact. - -'Well. I'll tell you what,' said Mr. Barkis. 'P'raps you might be -writin' to her?' - -'I shall certainly write to her,' I rejoined. - -'Ah!' he said, slowly turning his eyes towards me. 'Well! If you was -writin' to her, p'raps you'd recollect to say that Barkis was willin'; -would you?' - -'That Barkis is willing,' I repeated, innocently. 'Is that all the -message?' - -'Ye-es,' he said, considering. 'Ye-es. Barkis is willin'.' - -'But you will be at Blunderstone again tomorrow, Mr. Barkis,' I said, -faltering a little at the idea of my being far away from it then, and -could give your own message so much better.' - -As he repudiated this suggestion, however, with a jerk of his head, -and once more confirmed his previous request by saying, with profound -gravity, 'Barkis is willin'. That's the message,' I readily undertook -its transmission. While I was waiting for the coach in the hotel -at Yarmouth that very afternoon, I procured a sheet of paper and -an inkstand, and wrote a note to Peggotty, which ran thus: 'My dear -Peggotty. I have come here safe. Barkis is willing. My love to mama. -Yours affectionately. P.S. He says he particularly wants you to -know--BARKIS IS WILLING.' - -When I had taken this commission on myself prospectively, Mr. Barkis -relapsed into perfect silence; and I, feeling quite worn out by all that -had happened lately, lay down on a sack in the cart and fell asleep. I -slept soundly until we got to Yarmouth; which was so entirely new -and strange to me in the inn-yard to which we drove, that I at once -abandoned a latent hope I had had of meeting with some of Mr. Peggotty's -family there, perhaps even with little Em'ly herself. - -The coach was in the yard, shining very much all over, but without any -horses to it as yet; and it looked in that state as if nothing was -more unlikely than its ever going to London. I was thinking this, and -wondering what would ultimately become of my box, which Mr. Barkis had -put down on the yard-pavement by the pole (he having driven up the yard -to turn his cart), and also what would ultimately become of me, when a -lady looked out of a bow-window where some fowls and joints of meat were -hanging up, and said: - -'Is that the little gentleman from Blunderstone?' - -'Yes, ma'am,' I said. - -'What name?' inquired the lady. - -'Copperfield, ma'am,' I said. - -'That won't do,' returned the lady. 'Nobody's dinner is paid for here, -in that name.' - -'Is it Murdstone, ma'am?' I said. - -'If you're Master Murdstone,' said the lady, 'why do you go and give -another name, first?' - -I explained to the lady how it was, who than rang a bell, and called -out, 'William! show the coffee-room!' upon which a waiter came running -out of a kitchen on the opposite side of the yard to show it, and seemed -a good deal surprised when he was only to show it to me. - -It was a large long room with some large maps in it. I doubt if I could -have felt much stranger if the maps had been real foreign countries, and -I cast away in the middle of them. I felt it was taking a liberty to -sit down, with my cap in my hand, on the corner of the chair nearest the -door; and when the waiter laid a cloth on purpose for me, and put a set -of castors on it, I think I must have turned red all over with modesty. - -He brought me some chops, and vegetables, and took the covers off in -such a bouncing manner that I was afraid I must have given him some -offence. But he greatly relieved my mind by putting a chair for me at -the table, and saying, very affably, 'Now, six-foot! come on!' - -I thanked him, and took my seat at the board; but found it extremely -difficult to handle my knife and fork with anything like dexterity, -or to avoid splashing myself with the gravy, while he was standing -opposite, staring so hard, and making me blush in the most dreadful -manner every time I caught his eye. After watching me into the second -chop, he said: - -'There's half a pint of ale for you. Will you have it now?' - -I thanked him and said, 'Yes.' Upon which he poured it out of a jug -into a large tumbler, and held it up against the light, and made it look -beautiful. - -'My eye!' he said. 'It seems a good deal, don't it?' - -'It does seem a good deal,' I answered with a smile. For it was quite -delightful to me, to find him so pleasant. He was a twinkling-eyed, -pimple-faced man, with his hair standing upright all over his head; and -as he stood with one arm a-kimbo, holding up the glass to the light with -the other hand, he looked quite friendly. - -'There was a gentleman here, yesterday,' he said--'a stout gentleman, by -the name of Topsawyer--perhaps you know him?' - -'No,' I said, 'I don't think--' - -'In breeches and gaiters, broad-brimmed hat, grey coat, speckled -choker,' said the waiter. - -'No,' I said bashfully, 'I haven't the pleasure--' - -'He came in here,' said the waiter, looking at the light through the -tumbler, 'ordered a glass of this ale--WOULD order it--I told him -not--drank it, and fell dead. It was too old for him. It oughtn't to be -drawn; that's the fact.' - -I was very much shocked to hear of this melancholy accident, and said I -thought I had better have some water. - -'Why you see,' said the waiter, still looking at the light through the -tumbler, with one of his eyes shut up, 'our people don't like things -being ordered and left. It offends 'em. But I'll drink it, if you like. -I'm used to it, and use is everything. I don't think it'll hurt me, if I -throw my head back, and take it off quick. Shall I?' - -I replied that he would much oblige me by drinking it, if he thought -he could do it safely, but by no means otherwise. When he did throw his -head back, and take it off quick, I had a horrible fear, I confess, -of seeing him meet the fate of the lamented Mr. Topsawyer, and fall -lifeless on the carpet. But it didn't hurt him. On the contrary, I -thought he seemed the fresher for it. - -'What have we got here?' he said, putting a fork into my dish. 'Not -chops?' - -'Chops,' I said. - -'Lord bless my soul!' he exclaimed, 'I didn't know they were chops. Why, -a chop's the very thing to take off the bad effects of that beer! Ain't -it lucky?' - -So he took a chop by the bone in one hand, and a potato in the other, -and ate away with a very good appetite, to my extreme satisfaction. -He afterwards took another chop, and another potato; and after that, -another chop and another potato. When we had done, he brought me a -pudding, and having set it before me, seemed to ruminate, and to become -absent in his mind for some moments. - -'How's the pie?' he said, rousing himself. - -'It's a pudding,' I made answer. - -'Pudding!' he exclaimed. 'Why, bless me, so it is! What!' looking at it -nearer. 'You don't mean to say it's a batter-pudding!' - -'Yes, it is indeed.' - -'Why, a batter-pudding,' he said, taking up a table-spoon, 'is my -favourite pudding! Ain't that lucky? Come on, little 'un, and let's see -who'll get most.' - -The waiter certainly got most. He entreated me more than once to come in -and win, but what with his table-spoon to my tea-spoon, his dispatch to -my dispatch, and his appetite to my appetite, I was left far behind at -the first mouthful, and had no chance with him. I never saw anyone enjoy -a pudding so much, I think; and he laughed, when it was all gone, as if -his enjoyment of it lasted still. - -Finding him so very friendly and companionable, it was then that I asked -for the pen and ink and paper, to write to Peggotty. He not only brought -it immediately, but was good enough to look over me while I wrote the -letter. When I had finished it, he asked me where I was going to school. - -I said, 'Near London,' which was all I knew. - -'Oh! my eye!' he said, looking very low-spirited, 'I am sorry for that.' - -'Why?' I asked him. - -'Oh, Lord!' he said, shaking his head, 'that's the school where they -broke the boy's ribs--two ribs--a little boy he was. I should say he -was--let me see--how old are you, about?' - -I told him between eight and nine. - -'That's just his age,' he said. 'He was eight years and six months old -when they broke his first rib; eight years and eight months old when -they broke his second, and did for him.' - -I could not disguise from myself, or from the waiter, that this was an -uncomfortable coincidence, and inquired how it was done. His answer was -not cheering to my spirits, for it consisted of two dismal words, 'With -whopping.' - -The blowing of the coach-horn in the yard was a seasonable diversion, -which made me get up and hesitatingly inquire, in the mingled pride and -diffidence of having a purse (which I took out of my pocket), if there -were anything to pay. - -'There's a sheet of letter-paper,' he returned. 'Did you ever buy a -sheet of letter-paper?' - -I could not remember that I ever had. - -'It's dear,' he said, 'on account of the duty. Threepence. That's -the way we're taxed in this country. There's nothing else, except the -waiter. Never mind the ink. I lose by that.' - -'What should you--what should I--how much ought I to--what would it be -right to pay the waiter, if you please?' I stammered, blushing. - -'If I hadn't a family, and that family hadn't the cowpock,' said the -waiter, 'I wouldn't take a sixpence. If I didn't support a aged pairint, -and a lovely sister,'--here the waiter was greatly agitated--'I wouldn't -take a farthing. If I had a good place, and was treated well here, I -should beg acceptance of a trifle, instead of taking of it. But I live -on broken wittles--and I sleep on the coals'--here the waiter burst into -tears. - -I was very much concerned for his misfortunes, and felt that any -recognition short of ninepence would be mere brutality and hardness of -heart. Therefore I gave him one of my three bright shillings, which he -received with much humility and veneration, and spun up with his thumb, -directly afterwards, to try the goodness of. - -It was a little disconcerting to me, to find, when I was being helped -up behind the coach, that I was supposed to have eaten all the dinner -without any assistance. I discovered this, from overhearing the lady in -the bow-window say to the guard, 'Take care of that child, George, or -he'll burst!' and from observing that the women-servants who were about -the place came out to look and giggle at me as a young phenomenon. My -unfortunate friend the waiter, who had quite recovered his spirits, did -not appear to be disturbed by this, but joined in the general admiration -without being at all confused. If I had any doubt of him, I suppose -this half awakened it; but I am inclined to believe that with the simple -confidence of a child, and the natural reliance of a child upon superior -years (qualities I am very sorry any children should prematurely change -for worldly wisdom), I had no serious mistrust of him on the whole, even -then. - -I felt it rather hard, I must own, to be made, without deserving it, the -subject of jokes between the coachman and guard as to the coach drawing -heavy behind, on account of my sitting there, and as to the greater -expediency of my travelling by waggon. The story of my supposed appetite -getting wind among the outside passengers, they were merry upon it -likewise; and asked me whether I was going to be paid for, at school, -as two brothers or three, and whether I was contracted for, or went upon -the regular terms; with other pleasant questions. But the worst of -it was, that I knew I should be ashamed to eat anything, when an -opportunity offered, and that, after a rather light dinner, I should -remain hungry all night--for I had left my cakes behind, at the hotel, -in my hurry. My apprehensions were realized. When we stopped for supper -I couldn't muster courage to take any, though I should have liked it -very much, but sat by the fire and said I didn't want anything. This did -not save me from more jokes, either; for a husky-voiced gentleman with -a rough face, who had been eating out of a sandwich-box nearly all the -way, except when he had been drinking out of a bottle, said I was like -a boa-constrictor who took enough at one meal to last him a long time; -after which, he actually brought a rash out upon himself with boiled -beef. - -We had started from Yarmouth at three o'clock in the afternoon, and we -were due in London about eight next morning. It was Mid-summer weather, -and the evening was very pleasant. When we passed through a village, I -pictured to myself what the insides of the houses were like, and what -the inhabitants were about; and when boys came running after us, and -got up behind and swung there for a little way, I wondered whether their -fathers were alive, and whether they were happy at home. I had plenty to -think of, therefore, besides my mind running continually on the kind -of place I was going to--which was an awful speculation. Sometimes, I -remember, I resigned myself to thoughts of home and Peggotty; and to -endeavouring, in a confused blind way, to recall how I had felt, and -what sort of boy I used to be, before I bit Mr. Murdstone: which I -couldn't satisfy myself about by any means, I seemed to have bitten him -in such a remote antiquity. - -The night was not so pleasant as the evening, for it got chilly; and -being put between two gentlemen (the rough-faced one and another) to -prevent my tumbling off the coach, I was nearly smothered by their -falling asleep, and completely blocking me up. They squeezed me so hard -sometimes, that I could not help crying out, 'Oh! If you please!'--which -they didn't like at all, because it woke them. Opposite me was an -elderly lady in a great fur cloak, who looked in the dark more like a -haystack than a lady, she was wrapped up to such a degree. This lady had -a basket with her, and she hadn't known what to do with it, for a long -time, until she found that on account of my legs being short, it could -go underneath me. It cramped and hurt me so, that it made me perfectly -miserable; but if I moved in the least, and made a glass that was in the -basket rattle against something else (as it was sure to do), she gave -me the cruellest poke with her foot, and said, 'Come, don't YOU fidget. -YOUR bones are young enough, I'm sure!' - -At last the sun rose, and then my companions seemed to sleep easier. -The difficulties under which they had laboured all night, and which had -found utterance in the most terrific gasps and snorts, are not to be -conceived. As the sun got higher, their sleep became lighter, and so -they gradually one by one awoke. I recollect being very much surprised -by the feint everybody made, then, of not having been to sleep at all, -and by the uncommon indignation with which everyone repelled the -charge. I labour under the same kind of astonishment to this day, having -invariably observed that of all human weaknesses, the one to which our -common nature is the least disposed to confess (I cannot imagine why) is -the weakness of having gone to sleep in a coach. - -What an amazing place London was to me when I saw it in the distance, -and how I believed all the adventures of all my favourite heroes to be -constantly enacting and re-enacting there, and how I vaguely made it -out in my own mind to be fuller of wonders and wickedness than all the -cities of the earth, I need not stop here to relate. We approached it by -degrees, and got, in due time, to the inn in the Whitechapel district, -for which we were bound. I forget whether it was the Blue Bull, or the -Blue Boar; but I know it was the Blue Something, and that its likeness -was painted up on the back of the coach. - -The guard's eye lighted on me as he was getting down, and he said at the -booking-office door: - -'Is there anybody here for a yoongster booked in the name of Murdstone, -from Bloonderstone, Sooffolk, to be left till called for?' - -Nobody answered. - -'Try Copperfield, if you please, sir,' said I, looking helplessly down. - -'Is there anybody here for a yoongster, booked in the name of Murdstone, -from Bloonderstone, Sooffolk, but owning to the name of Copperfield, to -be left till called for?' said the guard. 'Come! IS there anybody?' - -No. There was nobody. I looked anxiously around; but the inquiry made no -impression on any of the bystanders, if I except a man in gaiters, with -one eye, who suggested that they had better put a brass collar round my -neck, and tie me up in the stable. - -A ladder was brought, and I got down after the lady, who was like a -haystack: not daring to stir, until her basket was removed. The coach -was clear of passengers by that time, the luggage was very soon cleared -out, the horses had been taken out before the luggage, and now the coach -itself was wheeled and backed off by some hostlers, out of the way. -Still, nobody appeared, to claim the dusty youngster from Blunderstone, -Suffolk. - -More solitary than Robinson Crusoe, who had nobody to look at him -and see that he was solitary, I went into the booking-office, and, by -invitation of the clerk on duty, passed behind the counter, and sat down -on the scale at which they weighed the luggage. Here, as I sat looking -at the parcels, packages, and books, and inhaling the smell of stables -(ever since associated with that morning), a procession of most -tremendous considerations began to march through my mind. Supposing -nobody should ever fetch me, how long would they consent to keep me -there? Would they keep me long enough to spend seven shillings? Should I -sleep at night in one of those wooden bins, with the other luggage, -and wash myself at the pump in the yard in the morning; or should I -be turned out every night, and expected to come again to be left till -called for, when the office opened next day? Supposing there was no -mistake in the case, and Mr. Murdstone had devised this plan to get rid -of me, what should I do? If they allowed me to remain there until my -seven shillings were spent, I couldn't hope to remain there when I began -to starve. That would obviously be inconvenient and unpleasant to the -customers, besides entailing on the Blue Whatever-it-was, the risk of -funeral expenses. If I started off at once, and tried to walk back home, -how could I ever find my way, how could I ever hope to walk so far, how -could I make sure of anyone but Peggotty, even if I got back? If I -found out the nearest proper authorities, and offered myself to go for a -soldier, or a sailor, I was such a little fellow that it was most likely -they wouldn't take me in. These thoughts, and a hundred other such -thoughts, turned me burning hot, and made me giddy with apprehension and -dismay. I was in the height of my fever when a man entered and whispered -to the clerk, who presently slanted me off the scale, and pushed me over -to him, as if I were weighed, bought, delivered, and paid for. - -As I went out of the office, hand in hand with this new acquaintance, -I stole a look at him. He was a gaunt, sallow young man, with hollow -cheeks, and a chin almost as black as Mr. Murdstone's; but there the -likeness ended, for his whiskers were shaved off, and his hair, instead -of being glossy, was rusty and dry. He was dressed in a suit of black -clothes which were rather rusty and dry too, and rather short in the -sleeves and legs; and he had a white neck-kerchief on, that was not -over-clean. I did not, and do not, suppose that this neck-kerchief was -all the linen he wore, but it was all he showed or gave any hint of. - -'You're the new boy?' he said. 'Yes, sir,' I said. - -I supposed I was. I didn't know. - -'I'm one of the masters at Salem House,' he said. - -I made him a bow and felt very much overawed. I was so ashamed to allude -to a commonplace thing like my box, to a scholar and a master at Salem -House, that we had gone some little distance from the yard before I had -the hardihood to mention it. We turned back, on my humbly insinuating -that it might be useful to me hereafter; and he told the clerk that the -carrier had instructions to call for it at noon. - -'If you please, sir,' I said, when we had accomplished about the same -distance as before, 'is it far?' - -'It's down by Blackheath,' he said. - -'Is that far, sir?' I diffidently asked. - -'It's a good step,' he said. 'We shall go by the stage-coach. It's about -six miles.' - -I was so faint and tired, that the idea of holding out for six miles -more, was too much for me. I took heart to tell him that I had had -nothing all night, and that if he would allow me to buy something to -eat, I should be very much obliged to him. He appeared surprised at -this--I see him stop and look at me now--and after considering for a few -moments, said he wanted to call on an old person who lived not far off, -and that the best way would be for me to buy some bread, or whatever I -liked best that was wholesome, and make my breakfast at her house, where -we could get some milk. - -Accordingly we looked in at a baker's window, and after I had made a -series of proposals to buy everything that was bilious in the shop, and -he had rejected them one by one, we decided in favour of a nice little -loaf of brown bread, which cost me threepence. Then, at a grocer's shop, -we bought an egg and a slice of streaky bacon; which still left what -I thought a good deal of change, out of the second of the bright -shillings, and made me consider London a very cheap place. These -provisions laid in, we went on through a great noise and uproar that -confused my weary head beyond description, and over a bridge which, no -doubt, was London Bridge (indeed I think he told me so, but I was half -asleep), until we came to the poor person's house, which was a part of -some alms-houses, as I knew by their look, and by an inscription on a -stone over the gate which said they were established for twenty-five -poor women. - -The Master at Salem House lifted the latch of one of a number of little -black doors that were all alike, and had each a little diamond-paned -window on one side, and another little diamond--paned window above; and -we went into the little house of one of these poor old women, who was -blowing a fire to make a little saucepan boil. On seeing the master -enter, the old woman stopped with the bellows on her knee, and said -something that I thought sounded like 'My Charley!' but on seeing me -come in too, she got up, and rubbing her hands made a confused sort of -half curtsey. - -'Can you cook this young gentleman's breakfast for him, if you please?' -said the Master at Salem House. - -'Can I?' said the old woman. 'Yes can I, sure!' - -'How's Mrs. Fibbitson today?' said the Master, looking at another old -woman in a large chair by the fire, who was such a bundle of clothes -that I feel grateful to this hour for not having sat upon her by -mistake. - -'Ah, she's poorly,' said the first old woman. 'It's one of her bad days. -If the fire was to go out, through any accident, I verily believe she'd -go out too, and never come to life again.' - -As they looked at her, I looked at her also. Although it was a warm day, -she seemed to think of nothing but the fire. I fancied she was jealous -even of the saucepan on it; and I have reason to know that she took its -impressment into the service of boiling my egg and broiling my bacon, in -dudgeon; for I saw her, with my own discomfited eyes, shake her fist at -me once, when those culinary operations were going on, and no one else -was looking. The sun streamed in at the little window, but she sat with -her own back and the back of the large chair towards it, screening the -fire as if she were sedulously keeping IT warm, instead of it keeping -her warm, and watching it in a most distrustful manner. The completion -of the preparations for my breakfast, by relieving the fire, gave her -such extreme joy that she laughed aloud--and a very unmelodious laugh -she had, I must say. - -I sat down to my brown loaf, my egg, and my rasher of bacon, with a -basin of milk besides, and made a most delicious meal. While I was yet -in the full enjoyment of it, the old woman of the house said to the -Master: - -'Have you got your flute with you?' - -'Yes,' he returned. - -'Have a blow at it,' said the old woman, coaxingly. 'Do!' - -The Master, upon this, put his hand underneath the skirts of his coat, -and brought out his flute in three pieces, which he screwed together, -and began immediately to play. My impression is, after many years of -consideration, that there never can have been anybody in the world who -played worse. He made the most dismal sounds I have ever heard produced -by any means, natural or artificial. I don't know what the tunes -were--if there were such things in the performance at all, which I -doubt--but the influence of the strain upon me was, first, to make me -think of all my sorrows until I could hardly keep my tears back; then to -take away my appetite; and lastly, to make me so sleepy that I couldn't -keep my eyes open. They begin to close again, and I begin to nod, as the -recollection rises fresh upon me. Once more the little room, with its -open corner cupboard, and its square-backed chairs, and its angular -little staircase leading to the room above, and its three peacock's -feathers displayed over the mantelpiece--I remember wondering when I -first went in, what that peacock would have thought if he had known what -his finery was doomed to come to--fades from before me, and I nod, and -sleep. The flute becomes inaudible, the wheels of the coach are heard -instead, and I am on my journey. The coach jolts, I wake with a start, -and the flute has come back again, and the Master at Salem House is -sitting with his legs crossed, playing it dolefully, while the old woman -of the house looks on delighted. She fades in her turn, and he fades, -and all fades, and there is no flute, no Master, no Salem House, no -David Copperfield, no anything but heavy sleep. - -I dreamed, I thought, that once while he was blowing into this dismal -flute, the old woman of the house, who had gone nearer and nearer to him -in her ecstatic admiration, leaned over the back of his chair and gave -him an affectionate squeeze round the neck, which stopped his playing -for a moment. I was in the middle state between sleeping and waking, -either then or immediately afterwards; for, as he resumed--it was a real -fact that he had stopped playing--I saw and heard the same old woman ask -Mrs. Fibbitson if it wasn't delicious (meaning the flute), to which Mrs. -Fibbitson replied, 'Ay, ay! yes!' and nodded at the fire: to which, I am -persuaded, she gave the credit of the whole performance. - -When I seemed to have been dozing a long while, the Master at Salem -House unscrewed his flute into the three pieces, put them up as before, -and took me away. We found the coach very near at hand, and got upon the -roof; but I was so dead sleepy, that when we stopped on the road to take -up somebody else, they put me inside where there were no passengers, and -where I slept profoundly, until I found the coach going at a footpace up -a steep hill among green leaves. Presently, it stopped, and had come to -its destination. - -A short walk brought us--I mean the Master and me--to Salem House, which -was enclosed with a high brick wall, and looked very dull. Over a door -in this wall was a board with SALEM HOUSE upon it; and through a grating -in this door we were surveyed when we rang the bell by a surly face, -which I found, on the door being opened, belonged to a stout man with a -bull-neck, a wooden leg, overhanging temples, and his hair cut close all -round his head. - -'The new boy,' said the Master. - -The man with the wooden leg eyed me all over--it didn't take long, for -there was not much of me--and locked the gate behind us, and took out -the key. We were going up to the house, among some dark heavy trees, -when he called after my conductor. 'Hallo!' - -We looked back, and he was standing at the door of a little lodge, where -he lived, with a pair of boots in his hand. - -'Here! The cobbler's been,' he said, 'since you've been out, Mr. Mell, -and he says he can't mend 'em any more. He says there ain't a bit of the -original boot left, and he wonders you expect it.' - -With these words he threw the boots towards Mr. Mell, who went back a -few paces to pick them up, and looked at them (very disconsolately, -I was afraid), as we went on together. I observed then, for the first -time, that the boots he had on were a good deal the worse for wear, and -that his stocking was just breaking out in one place, like a bud. - -Salem House was a square brick building with wings; of a bare and -unfurnished appearance. All about it was so very quiet, that I said to -Mr. Mell I supposed the boys were out; but he seemed surprised at my -not knowing that it was holiday-time. That all the boys were at their -several homes. That Mr. Creakle, the proprietor, was down by the -sea-side with Mrs. and Miss Creakle; and that I was sent in holiday-time -as a punishment for my misdoing, all of which he explained to me as we -went along. - -I gazed upon the schoolroom into which he took me, as the most forlorn -and desolate place I had ever seen. I see it now. A long room with three -long rows of desks, and six of forms, and bristling all round with pegs -for hats and slates. Scraps of old copy-books and exercises litter the -dirty floor. Some silkworms' houses, made of the same materials, are -scattered over the desks. Two miserable little white mice, left behind -by their owner, are running up and down in a fusty castle made of -pasteboard and wire, looking in all the corners with their red eyes -for anything to eat. A bird, in a cage very little bigger than himself, -makes a mournful rattle now and then in hopping on his perch, two inches -high, or dropping from it; but neither sings nor chirps. There is a -strange unwholesome smell upon the room, like mildewed corduroys, sweet -apples wanting air, and rotten books. There could not well be more ink -splashed about it, if it had been roofless from its first construction, -and the skies had rained, snowed, hailed, and blown ink through the -varying seasons of the year. - -Mr. Mell having left me while he took his irreparable boots upstairs, I -went softly to the upper end of the room, observing all this as I crept -along. Suddenly I came upon a pasteboard placard, beautifully written, -which was lying on the desk, and bore these words: 'TAKE CARE OF HIM. HE -BITES.' - -I got upon the desk immediately, apprehensive of at least a great dog -underneath. But, though I looked all round with anxious eyes, I could -see nothing of him. I was still engaged in peering about, when Mr. Mell -came back, and asked me what I did up there? - -'I beg your pardon, sir,' says I, 'if you please, I'm looking for the -dog.' - -'Dog?' he says. 'What dog?' - -'Isn't it a dog, sir?' - -'Isn't what a dog?' - -'That's to be taken care of, sir; that bites.' - -'No, Copperfield,' says he, gravely, 'that's not a dog. That's a boy. -My instructions are, Copperfield, to put this placard on your back. I am -sorry to make such a beginning with you, but I must do it.' With that he -took me down, and tied the placard, which was neatly constructed for -the purpose, on my shoulders like a knapsack; and wherever I went, -afterwards, I had the consolation of carrying it. - -What I suffered from that placard, nobody can imagine. Whether it was -possible for people to see me or not, I always fancied that somebody was -reading it. It was no relief to turn round and find nobody; for wherever -my back was, there I imagined somebody always to be. That cruel man with -the wooden leg aggravated my sufferings. He was in authority; and if he -ever saw me leaning against a tree, or a wall, or the house, he roared -out from his lodge door in a stupendous voice, 'Hallo, you sir! You -Copperfield! Show that badge conspicuous, or I'll report you!' The -playground was a bare gravelled yard, open to all the back of the house -and the offices; and I knew that the servants read it, and the butcher -read it, and the baker read it; that everybody, in a word, who came -backwards and forwards to the house, of a morning when I was ordered to -walk there, read that I was to be taken care of, for I bit, I recollect -that I positively began to have a dread of myself, as a kind of wild boy -who did bite. - -There was an old door in this playground, on which the boys had a -custom of carving their names. It was completely covered with such -inscriptions. In my dread of the end of the vacation and their coming -back, I could not read a boy's name, without inquiring in what tone and -with what emphasis HE would read, 'Take care of him. He bites.' There -was one boy--a certain J. Steerforth--who cut his name very deep and -very often, who, I conceived, would read it in a rather strong voice, -and afterwards pull my hair. There was another boy, one Tommy Traddles, -who I dreaded would make game of it, and pretend to be dreadfully -frightened of me. There was a third, George Demple, who I fancied would -sing it. I have looked, a little shrinking creature, at that door, until -the owners of all the names--there were five-and-forty of them in the -school then, Mr. Mell said--seemed to send me to Coventry by general -acclamation, and to cry out, each in his own way, 'Take care of him. He -bites!' - -It was the same with the places at the desks and forms. It was the same -with the groves of deserted bedsteads I peeped at, on my way to, and -when I was in, my own bed. I remember dreaming night after night, of -being with my mother as she used to be, or of going to a party at Mr. -Peggotty's, or of travelling outside the stage-coach, or of dining again -with my unfortunate friend the waiter, and in all these circumstances -making people scream and stare, by the unhappy disclosure that I had -nothing on but my little night-shirt, and that placard. - -In the monotony of my life, and in my constant apprehension of the -re-opening of the school, it was such an insupportable affliction! I had -long tasks every day to do with Mr. Mell; but I did them, there being -no Mr. and Miss Murdstone here, and got through them without disgrace. -Before, and after them, I walked about--supervised, as I have mentioned, -by the man with the wooden leg. How vividly I call to mind the damp -about the house, the green cracked flagstones in the court, an old leaky -water-butt, and the discoloured trunks of some of the grim trees, which -seemed to have dripped more in the rain than other trees, and to have -blown less in the sun! At one we dined, Mr. Mell and I, at the upper end -of a long bare dining-room, full of deal tables, and smelling of fat. -Then, we had more tasks until tea, which Mr. Mell drank out of a blue -teacup, and I out of a tin pot. All day long, and until seven or eight -in the evening, Mr. Mell, at his own detached desk in the schoolroom, -worked hard with pen, ink, ruler, books, and writing-paper, making out -the bills (as I found) for last half-year. When he had put up his things -for the night he took out his flute, and blew at it, until I almost -thought he would gradually blow his whole being into the large hole at -the top, and ooze away at the keys. - -I picture my small self in the dimly-lighted rooms, sitting with my -head upon my hand, listening to the doleful performance of Mr. Mell, -and conning tomorrow's lessons. I picture myself with my books shut up, -still listening to the doleful performance of Mr. Mell, and listening -through it to what used to be at home, and to the blowing of the wind -on Yarmouth flats, and feeling very sad and solitary. I picture myself -going up to bed, among the unused rooms, and sitting on my bed-side -crying for a comfortable word from Peggotty. I picture myself coming -downstairs in the morning, and looking through a long ghastly gash of a -staircase window at the school-bell hanging on the top of an out-house -with a weathercock above it; and dreading the time when it shall ring J. -Steerforth and the rest to work: which is only second, in my foreboding -apprehensions, to the time when the man with the wooden leg shall unlock -the rusty gate to give admission to the awful Mr. Creakle. I cannot -think I was a very dangerous character in any of these aspects, but in -all of them I carried the same warning on my back. - -Mr. Mell never said much to me, but he was never harsh to me. I suppose -we were company to each other, without talking. I forgot to mention that -he would talk to himself sometimes, and grin, and clench his fist, and -grind his teeth, and pull his hair in an unaccountable manner. But he -had these peculiarities: and at first they frightened me, though I soon -got used to them. - - - -CHAPTER 6. I ENLARGE MY CIRCLE OF ACQUAINTANCE - - -I HAD led this life about a month, when the man with the wooden leg -began to stump about with a mop and a bucket of water, from which I -inferred that preparations were making to receive Mr. Creakle and the -boys. I was not mistaken; for the mop came into the schoolroom before -long, and turned out Mr. Mell and me, who lived where we could, and got -on how we could, for some days, during which we were always in the way -of two or three young women, who had rarely shown themselves before, and -were so continually in the midst of dust that I sneezed almost as much -as if Salem House had been a great snuff-box. - -One day I was informed by Mr. Mell that Mr. Creakle would be home that -evening. In the evening, after tea, I heard that he was come. Before -bedtime, I was fetched by the man with the wooden leg to appear before -him. - -Mr. Creakle's part of the house was a good deal more comfortable than -ours, and he had a snug bit of garden that looked pleasant after the -dusty playground, which was such a desert in miniature, that I thought -no one but a camel, or a dromedary, could have felt at home in it. It -seemed to me a bold thing even to take notice that the passage looked -comfortable, as I went on my way, trembling, to Mr. Creakle's presence: -which so abashed me, when I was ushered into it, that I hardly saw -Mrs. Creakle or Miss Creakle (who were both there, in the parlour), or -anything but Mr. Creakle, a stout gentleman with a bunch of watch-chain -and seals, in an arm-chair, with a tumbler and bottle beside him. - -'So!' said Mr. Creakle. 'This is the young gentleman whose teeth are to -be filed! Turn him round.' - -The wooden-legged man turned me about so as to exhibit the placard; and -having afforded time for a full survey of it, turned me about again, -with my face to Mr. Creakle, and posted himself at Mr. Creakle's side. -Mr. Creakle's face was fiery, and his eyes were small, and deep in his -head; he had thick veins in his forehead, a little nose, and a large -chin. He was bald on the top of his head; and had some thin wet-looking -hair that was just turning grey, brushed across each temple, so that -the two sides interlaced on his forehead. But the circumstance about -him which impressed me most, was, that he had no voice, but spoke in a -whisper. The exertion this cost him, or the consciousness of talking in -that feeble way, made his angry face so much more angry, and his thick -veins so much thicker, when he spoke, that I am not surprised, on -looking back, at this peculiarity striking me as his chief one. 'Now,' -said Mr. Creakle. 'What's the report of this boy?' - -'There's nothing against him yet,' returned the man with the wooden leg. -'There has been no opportunity.' - -I thought Mr. Creakle was disappointed. I thought Mrs. and Miss Creakle -(at whom I now glanced for the first time, and who were, both, thin and -quiet) were not disappointed. - -'Come here, sir!' said Mr. Creakle, beckoning to me. - -'Come here!' said the man with the wooden leg, repeating the gesture. - -'I have the happiness of knowing your father-in-law,' whispered Mr. -Creakle, taking me by the ear; 'and a worthy man he is, and a man of -a strong character. He knows me, and I know him. Do YOU know me? Hey?' -said Mr. Creakle, pinching my ear with ferocious playfulness. - -'Not yet, sir,' I said, flinching with the pain. - -'Not yet? Hey?' repeated Mr. Creakle. 'But you will soon. Hey?' - -'You will soon. Hey?' repeated the man with the wooden leg. I afterwards -found that he generally acted, with his strong voice, as Mr. Creakle's -interpreter to the boys. - -I was very much frightened, and said, I hoped so, if he pleased. I felt, -all this while, as if my ear were blazing; he pinched it so hard. - -'I'll tell you what I am,' whispered Mr. Creakle, letting it go at last, -with a screw at parting that brought the water into my eyes. 'I'm a -Tartar.' - -'A Tartar,' said the man with the wooden leg. - -'When I say I'll do a thing, I do it,' said Mr. Creakle; 'and when I say -I will have a thing done, I will have it done.' - -'--Will have a thing done, I will have it done,' repeated the man with -the wooden leg. - -'I am a determined character,' said Mr. Creakle. 'That's what I am. I -do my duty. That's what I do. My flesh and blood'--he looked at Mrs. -Creakle as he said this--'when it rises against me, is not my flesh -and blood. I discard it. Has that fellow'--to the man with the wooden -leg--'been here again?' - -'No,' was the answer. - -'No,' said Mr. Creakle. 'He knows better. He knows me. Let him keep -away. I say let him keep away,' said Mr. Creakle, striking his hand upon -the table, and looking at Mrs. Creakle, 'for he knows me. Now you have -begun to know me too, my young friend, and you may go. Take him away.' - -I was very glad to be ordered away, for Mrs. and Miss Creakle were both -wiping their eyes, and I felt as uncomfortable for them as I did for -myself. But I had a petition on my mind which concerned me so nearly, -that I couldn't help saying, though I wondered at my own courage: - -'If you please, sir--' - -Mr. Creakle whispered, 'Hah! What's this?' and bent his eyes upon me, as -if he would have burnt me up with them. - -'If you please, sir,' I faltered, 'if I might be allowed (I am very -sorry indeed, sir, for what I did) to take this writing off, before the -boys come back--' - -Whether Mr. Creakle was in earnest, or whether he only did it to -frighten me, I don't know, but he made a burst out of his chair, before -which I precipitately retreated, without waiting for the escort of the -man with the wooden leg, and never once stopped until I reached my own -bedroom, where, finding I was not pursued, I went to bed, as it was -time, and lay quaking, for a couple of hours. - -Next morning Mr. Sharp came back. Mr. Sharp was the first master, and -superior to Mr. Mell. Mr. Mell took his meals with the boys, but -Mr. Sharp dined and supped at Mr. Creakle's table. He was a limp, -delicate-looking gentleman, I thought, with a good deal of nose, and a -way of carrying his head on one side, as if it were a little too heavy -for him. His hair was very smooth and wavy; but I was informed by the -very first boy who came back that it was a wig (a second-hand one HE -said), and that Mr. Sharp went out every Saturday afternoon to get it -curled. - -It was no other than Tommy Traddles who gave me this piece of -intelligence. He was the first boy who returned. He introduced himself -by informing me that I should find his name on the right-hand corner of -the gate, over the top-bolt; upon that I said, 'Traddles?' to which he -replied, 'The same,' and then he asked me for a full account of myself -and family. - -It was a happy circumstance for me that Traddles came back first. He -enjoyed my placard so much, that he saved me from the embarrassment of -either disclosure or concealment, by presenting me to every other boy -who came back, great or small, immediately on his arrival, in this form -of introduction, 'Look here! Here's a game!' Happily, too, the greater -part of the boys came back low-spirited, and were not so boisterous at -my expense as I had expected. Some of them certainly did dance about me -like wild Indians, and the greater part could not resist the temptation -of pretending that I was a dog, and patting and soothing me, lest I -should bite, and saying, 'Lie down, sir!' and calling me Towzer. This -was naturally confusing, among so many strangers, and cost me some -tears, but on the whole it was much better than I had anticipated. - -I was not considered as being formally received into the school, -however, until J. Steerforth arrived. Before this boy, who was -reputed to be a great scholar, and was very good-looking, and at least -half-a-dozen years my senior, I was carried as before a magistrate. He -inquired, under a shed in the playground, into the particulars of my -punishment, and was pleased to express his opinion that it was 'a jolly -shame'; for which I became bound to him ever afterwards. - -'What money have you got, Copperfield?' he said, walking aside with -me when he had disposed of my affair in these terms. I told him seven -shillings. - -'You had better give it to me to take care of,' he said. 'At least, you -can if you like. You needn't if you don't like.' - -I hastened to comply with his friendly suggestion, and opening -Peggotty's purse, turned it upside down into his hand. - -'Do you want to spend anything now?' he asked me. - -'No thank you,' I replied. - -'You can, if you like, you know,' said Steerforth. 'Say the word.' - -'No, thank you, sir,' I repeated. - -'Perhaps you'd like to spend a couple of shillings or so, in a bottle of -currant wine by and by, up in the bedroom?' said Steerforth. 'You belong -to my bedroom, I find.' - -It certainly had not occurred to me before, but I said, Yes, I should -like that. - -'Very good,' said Steerforth. 'You'll be glad to spend another shilling -or so, in almond cakes, I dare say?' - -I said, Yes, I should like that, too. - -'And another shilling or so in biscuits, and another in fruit, eh?' said -Steerforth. 'I say, young Copperfield, you're going it!' - -I smiled because he smiled, but I was a little troubled in my mind, too. - -'Well!' said Steerforth. 'We must make it stretch as far as we can; -that's all. I'll do the best in my power for you. I can go out when I -like, and I'll smuggle the prog in.' With these words he put the money -in his pocket, and kindly told me not to make myself uneasy; he would -take care it should be all right. He was as good as his word, if that -were all right which I had a secret misgiving was nearly all wrong--for -I feared it was a waste of my mother's two half-crowns--though I had -preserved the piece of paper they were wrapped in: which was a precious -saving. When we went upstairs to bed, he produced the whole seven -shillings' worth, and laid it out on my bed in the moonlight, saying: - -'There you are, young Copperfield, and a royal spread you've got.' - -I couldn't think of doing the honours of the feast, at my time of life, -while he was by; my hand shook at the very thought of it. I begged him -to do me the favour of presiding; and my request being seconded by the -other boys who were in that room, he acceded to it, and sat upon my -pillow, handing round the viands--with perfect fairness, I must say--and -dispensing the currant wine in a little glass without a foot, which was -his own property. As to me, I sat on his left hand, and the rest were -grouped about us, on the nearest beds and on the floor. - -How well I recollect our sitting there, talking in whispers; or their -talking, and my respectfully listening, I ought rather to say; the -moonlight falling a little way into the room, through the window, -painting a pale window on the floor, and the greater part of us in -shadow, except when Steerforth dipped a match into a phosphorus-box, -when he wanted to look for anything on the board, and shed a blue glare -over us that was gone directly! A certain mysterious feeling, consequent -on the darkness, the secrecy of the revel, and the whisper in which -everything was said, steals over me again, and I listen to all they tell -me with a vague feeling of solemnity and awe, which makes me glad that -they are all so near, and frightens me (though I feign to laugh) when -Traddles pretends to see a ghost in the corner. - -I heard all kinds of things about the school and all belonging to it. -I heard that Mr. Creakle had not preferred his claim to being a Tartar -without reason; that he was the sternest and most severe of masters; -that he laid about him, right and left, every day of his life, charging -in among the boys like a trooper, and slashing away, unmercifully. That -he knew nothing himself, but the art of slashing, being more ignorant -(J. Steerforth said) than the lowest boy in the school; that he had -been, a good many years ago, a small hop-dealer in the Borough, and had -taken to the schooling business after being bankrupt in hops, and making -away with Mrs. Creakle's money. With a good deal more of that sort, -which I wondered how they knew. - -I heard that the man with the wooden leg, whose name was Tungay, was an -obstinate barbarian who had formerly assisted in the hop business, but -had come into the scholastic line with Mr. Creakle, in consequence, -as was supposed among the boys, of his having broken his leg in Mr. -Creakle's service, and having done a deal of dishonest work for him, -and knowing his secrets. I heard that with the single exception of Mr. -Creakle, Tungay considered the whole establishment, masters and boys, -as his natural enemies, and that the only delight of his life was to be -sour and malicious. I heard that Mr. Creakle had a son, who had not been -Tungay's friend, and who, assisting in the school, had once held some -remonstrance with his father on an occasion when its discipline was very -cruelly exercised, and was supposed, besides, to have protested against -his father's usage of his mother. I heard that Mr. Creakle had turned -him out of doors, in consequence; and that Mrs. and Miss Creakle had -been in a sad way, ever since. - -But the greatest wonder that I heard of Mr. Creakle was, there being one -boy in the school on whom he never ventured to lay a hand, and that -boy being J. Steerforth. Steerforth himself confirmed this when it was -stated, and said that he should like to begin to see him do it. On being -asked by a mild boy (not me) how he would proceed if he did begin to see -him do it, he dipped a match into his phosphorus-box on purpose to shed -a glare over his reply, and said he would commence by knocking him down -with a blow on the forehead from the seven-and-sixpenny ink-bottle -that was always on the mantelpiece. We sat in the dark for some time, -breathless. - -I heard that Mr. Sharp and Mr. Mell were both supposed to be wretchedly -paid; and that when there was hot and cold meat for dinner at Mr. -Creakle's table, Mr. Sharp was always expected to say he preferred cold; -which was again corroborated by J. Steerforth, the only parlour-boarder. -I heard that Mr. Sharp's wig didn't fit him; and that he needn't be so -'bounceable'--somebody else said 'bumptious'--about it, because his own -red hair was very plainly to be seen behind. - -I heard that one boy, who was a coal-merchant's son, came as a set-off -against the coal-bill, and was called, on that account, 'Exchange or -Barter'--a name selected from the arithmetic book as expressing this -arrangement. I heard that the table beer was a robbery of parents, and -the pudding an imposition. I heard that Miss Creakle was regarded by the -school in general as being in love with Steerforth; and I am sure, as I -sat in the dark, thinking of his nice voice, and his fine face, and his -easy manner, and his curling hair, I thought it very likely. I heard -that Mr. Mell was not a bad sort of fellow, but hadn't a sixpence to -bless himself with; and that there was no doubt that old Mrs. Mell, his -mother, was as poor as job. I thought of my breakfast then, and what had -sounded like 'My Charley!' but I was, I am glad to remember, as mute as -a mouse about it. - -The hearing of all this, and a good deal more, outlasted the banquet -some time. The greater part of the guests had gone to bed as soon as the -eating and drinking were over; and we, who had remained whispering and -listening half-undressed, at last betook ourselves to bed, too. - -'Good night, young Copperfield,' said Steerforth. 'I'll take care of -you.' 'You're very kind,' I gratefully returned. 'I am very much obliged -to you.' - -'You haven't got a sister, have you?' said Steerforth, yawning. - -'No,' I answered. - -'That's a pity,' said Steerforth. 'If you had had one, I should think -she would have been a pretty, timid, little, bright-eyed sort of girl. I -should have liked to know her. Good night, young Copperfield.' - -'Good night, sir,' I replied. - -I thought of him very much after I went to bed, and raised myself, -I recollect, to look at him where he lay in the moonlight, with his -handsome face turned up, and his head reclining easily on his arm. He -was a person of great power in my eyes; that was, of course, the reason -of my mind running on him. No veiled future dimly glanced upon him in -the moonbeams. There was no shadowy picture of his footsteps, in the -garden that I dreamed of walking in all night. - - - -CHAPTER 7. MY 'FIRST HALF' AT SALEM HOUSE - - -School began in earnest next day. A profound impression was made -upon me, I remember, by the roar of voices in the schoolroom suddenly -becoming hushed as death when Mr. Creakle entered after breakfast, and -stood in the doorway looking round upon us like a giant in a story-book -surveying his captives. - -Tungay stood at Mr. Creakle's elbow. He had no occasion, I thought, -to cry out 'Silence!' so ferociously, for the boys were all struck -speechless and motionless. - -Mr. Creakle was seen to speak, and Tungay was heard, to this effect. - -'Now, boys, this is a new half. Take care what you're about, in this new -half. Come fresh up to the lessons, I advise you, for I come fresh up -to the punishment. I won't flinch. It will be of no use your rubbing -yourselves; you won't rub the marks out that I shall give you. Now get -to work, every boy!' - -When this dreadful exordium was over, and Tungay had stumped out again, -Mr. Creakle came to where I sat, and told me that if I were famous for -biting, he was famous for biting, too. He then showed me the cane, and -asked me what I thought of THAT, for a tooth? Was it a sharp tooth, hey? -Was it a double tooth, hey? Had it a deep prong, hey? Did it bite, hey? -Did it bite? At every question he gave me a fleshy cut with it that made -me writhe; so I was very soon made free of Salem House (as Steerforth -said), and was very soon in tears also. - -Not that I mean to say these were special marks of distinction, -which only I received. On the contrary, a large majority of the boys -(especially the smaller ones) were visited with similar instances -of notice, as Mr. Creakle made the round of the schoolroom. Half the -establishment was writhing and crying, before the day's work began; and -how much of it had writhed and cried before the day's work was over, I -am really afraid to recollect, lest I should seem to exaggerate. - -I should think there never can have been a man who enjoyed his -profession more than Mr. Creakle did. He had a delight in cutting at -the boys, which was like the satisfaction of a craving appetite. I am -confident that he couldn't resist a chubby boy, especially; that there -was a fascination in such a subject, which made him restless in his -mind, until he had scored and marked him for the day. I was chubby -myself, and ought to know. I am sure when I think of the fellow now, my -blood rises against him with the disinterested indignation I should -feel if I could have known all about him without having ever been in his -power; but it rises hotly, because I know him to have been an incapable -brute, who had no more right to be possessed of the great trust he held, -than to be Lord High Admiral, or Commander-in-Chief--in either of -which capacities it is probable that he would have done infinitely less -mischief. - -Miserable little propitiators of a remorseless Idol, how abject we were -to him! What a launch in life I think it now, on looking back, to be so -mean and servile to a man of such parts and pretensions! - -Here I sit at the desk again, watching his eye--humbly watching his eye, -as he rules a ciphering-book for another victim whose hands have just -been flattened by that identical ruler, and who is trying to wipe the -sting out with a pocket-handkerchief. I have plenty to do. I don't watch -his eye in idleness, but because I am morbidly attracted to it, in a -dread desire to know what he will do next, and whether it will be my -turn to suffer, or somebody else's. A lane of small boys beyond me, with -the same interest in his eye, watch it too. I think he knows it, -though he pretends he don't. He makes dreadful mouths as he rules the -ciphering-book; and now he throws his eye sideways down our lane, and we -all droop over our books and tremble. A moment afterwards we are again -eyeing him. An unhappy culprit, found guilty of imperfect exercise, -approaches at his command. The culprit falters excuses, and professes a -determination to do better tomorrow. Mr. Creakle cuts a joke before he -beats him, and we laugh at it,--miserable little dogs, we laugh, with -our visages as white as ashes, and our hearts sinking into our boots. - -Here I sit at the desk again, on a drowsy summer afternoon. A buzz and -hum go up around me, as if the boys were so many bluebottles. A cloggy -sensation of the lukewarm fat of meat is upon me (we dined an hour or -two ago), and my head is as heavy as so much lead. I would give the -world to go to sleep. I sit with my eye on Mr. Creakle, blinking at him -like a young owl; when sleep overpowers me for a minute, he still looms -through my slumber, ruling those ciphering-books, until he softly comes -behind me and wakes me to plainer perception of him, with a red ridge -across my back. - -Here I am in the playground, with my eye still fascinated by him, though -I can't see him. The window at a little distance from which I know he is -having his dinner, stands for him, and I eye that instead. If he shows -his face near it, mine assumes an imploring and submissive expression. -If he looks out through the glass, the boldest boy (Steerforth excepted) -stops in the middle of a shout or yell, and becomes contemplative. One -day, Traddles (the most unfortunate boy in the world) breaks that window -accidentally, with a ball. I shudder at this moment with the tremendous -sensation of seeing it done, and feeling that the ball has bounded on to -Mr. Creakle's sacred head. - -Poor Traddles! In a tight sky-blue suit that made his arms and legs like -German sausages, or roly-poly puddings, he was the merriest and most -miserable of all the boys. He was always being caned--I think he was -caned every day that half-year, except one holiday Monday when he was -only ruler'd on both hands--and was always going to write to his uncle -about it, and never did. After laying his head on the desk for a little -while, he would cheer up, somehow, begin to laugh again, and draw -skeletons all over his slate, before his eyes were dry. I used at first -to wonder what comfort Traddles found in drawing skeletons; and for some -time looked upon him as a sort of hermit, who reminded himself by those -symbols of mortality that caning couldn't last for ever. But I believe -he only did it because they were easy, and didn't want any features. - -He was very honourable, Traddles was, and held it as a solemn duty -in the boys to stand by one another. He suffered for this on several -occasions; and particularly once, when Steerforth laughed in church, -and the Beadle thought it was Traddles, and took him out. I see him now, -going away in custody, despised by the congregation. He never said -who was the real offender, though he smarted for it next day, and was -imprisoned so many hours that he came forth with a whole churchyard-full -of skeletons swarming all over his Latin Dictionary. But he had his -reward. Steerforth said there was nothing of the sneak in Traddles, and -we all felt that to be the highest praise. For my part, I could have -gone through a good deal (though I was much less brave than Traddles, -and nothing like so old) to have won such a recompense. - -To see Steerforth walk to church before us, arm-in-arm with Miss -Creakle, was one of the great sights of my life. I didn't think Miss -Creakle equal to little Em'ly in point of beauty, and I didn't love -her (I didn't dare); but I thought her a young lady of extraordinary -attractions, and in point of gentility not to be surpassed. When -Steerforth, in white trousers, carried her parasol for her, I felt proud -to know him; and believed that she could not choose but adore him with -all her heart. Mr. Sharp and Mr. Mell were both notable personages in my -eyes; but Steerforth was to them what the sun was to two stars. - -Steerforth continued his protection of me, and proved a very useful -friend; since nobody dared to annoy one whom he honoured with his -countenance. He couldn't--or at all events he didn't--defend me from Mr. -Creakle, who was very severe with me; but whenever I had been treated -worse than usual, he always told me that I wanted a little of his pluck, -and that he wouldn't have stood it himself; which I felt he intended -for encouragement, and considered to be very kind of him. There was one -advantage, and only one that I know of, in Mr. Creakle's severity. He -found my placard in his way when he came up or down behind the form on -which I sat, and wanted to make a cut at me in passing; for this reason -it was soon taken off, and I saw it no more. - -An accidental circumstance cemented the intimacy between Steerforth -and me, in a manner that inspired me with great pride and satisfaction, -though it sometimes led to inconvenience. It happened on one occasion, -when he was doing me the honour of talking to me in the playground, that -I hazarded the observation that something or somebody--I forget what -now--was like something or somebody in Peregrine Pickle. He said nothing -at the time; but when I was going to bed at night, asked me if I had got -that book? - -I told him no, and explained how it was that I had read it, and all -those other books of which I have made mention. - -'And do you recollect them?' Steerforth said. - -'Oh yes,' I replied; I had a good memory, and I believed I recollected -them very well. - -'Then I tell you what, young Copperfield,' said Steerforth, 'you -shall tell 'em to me. I can't get to sleep very early at night, and I -generally wake rather early in the morning. We'll go over 'em one after -another. We'll make some regular Arabian Nights of it.' - -I felt extremely flattered by this arrangement, and we commenced -carrying it into execution that very evening. What ravages I committed -on my favourite authors in the course of my interpretation of them, I am -not in a condition to say, and should be very unwilling to know; but -I had a profound faith in them, and I had, to the best of my belief, -a simple, earnest manner of narrating what I did narrate; and these -qualities went a long way. - -The drawback was, that I was often sleepy at night, or out of spirits -and indisposed to resume the story; and then it was rather hard work, -and it must be done; for to disappoint or to displease Steerforth was of -course out of the question. In the morning, too, when I felt weary, and -should have enjoyed another hour's repose very much, it was a tiresome -thing to be roused, like the Sultana Scheherazade, and forced into a -long story before the getting-up bell rang; but Steerforth was resolute; -and as he explained to me, in return, my sums and exercises, and -anything in my tasks that was too hard for me, I was no loser by the -transaction. Let me do myself justice, however. I was moved by no -interested or selfish motive, nor was I moved by fear of him. I admired -and loved him, and his approval was return enough. It was so precious to -me that I look back on these trifles, now, with an aching heart. - -Steerforth was considerate, too; and showed his consideration, in -one particular instance, in an unflinching manner that was a little -tantalizing, I suspect, to poor Traddles and the rest. Peggotty's -promised letter--what a comfortable letter it was!--arrived before -'the half' was many weeks old; and with it a cake in a perfect nest -of oranges, and two bottles of cowslip wine. This treasure, as in duty -bound, I laid at the feet of Steerforth, and begged him to dispense. - -'Now, I'll tell you what, young Copperfield,' said he: 'the wine shall -be kept to wet your whistle when you are story-telling.' - -I blushed at the idea, and begged him, in my modesty, not to think of -it. But he said he had observed I was sometimes hoarse--a little roopy -was his exact expression--and it should be, every drop, devoted to the -purpose he had mentioned. Accordingly, it was locked up in his box, and -drawn off by himself in a phial, and administered to me through a -piece of quill in the cork, when I was supposed to be in want of a -restorative. Sometimes, to make it a more sovereign specific, he was so -kind as to squeeze orange juice into it, or to stir it up with ginger, -or dissolve a peppermint drop in it; and although I cannot assert that -the flavour was improved by these experiments, or that it was exactly -the compound one would have chosen for a stomachic, the last thing at -night and the first thing in the morning, I drank it gratefully and was -very sensible of his attention. - -We seem, to me, to have been months over Peregrine, and months more over -the other stories. The institution never flagged for want of a story, I -am certain; and the wine lasted out almost as well as the matter. Poor -Traddles--I never think of that boy but with a strange disposition to -laugh, and with tears in my eyes--was a sort of chorus, in general; -and affected to be convulsed with mirth at the comic parts, and to be -overcome with fear when there was any passage of an alarming character -in the narrative. This rather put me out, very often. It was a great -jest of his, I recollect, to pretend that he couldn't keep his teeth -from chattering, whenever mention was made of an Alguazill in connexion -with the adventures of Gil Blas; and I remember that when Gil Blas met -the captain of the robbers in Madrid, this unlucky joker counterfeited -such an ague of terror, that he was overheard by Mr. Creakle, who -was prowling about the passage, and handsomely flogged for disorderly -conduct in the bedroom. Whatever I had within me that was romantic and -dreamy, was encouraged by so much story-telling in the dark; and in that -respect the pursuit may not have been very profitable to me. But the -being cherished as a kind of plaything in my room, and the consciousness -that this accomplishment of mine was bruited about among the boys, and -attracted a good deal of notice to me though I was the youngest there, -stimulated me to exertion. In a school carried on by sheer cruelty, -whether it is presided over by a dunce or not, there is not likely to -be much learnt. I believe our boys were, generally, as ignorant a set -as any schoolboys in existence; they were too much troubled and knocked -about to learn; they could no more do that to advantage, than any one -can do anything to advantage in a life of constant misfortune, torment, -and worry. But my little vanity, and Steerforth's help, urged me on -somehow; and without saving me from much, if anything, in the way of -punishment, made me, for the time I was there, an exception to the -general body, insomuch that I did steadily pick up some crumbs of -knowledge. - -In this I was much assisted by Mr. Mell, who had a liking for me that -I am grateful to remember. It always gave me pain to observe that -Steerforth treated him with systematic disparagement, and seldom lost -an occasion of wounding his feelings, or inducing others to do so. -This troubled me the more for a long time, because I had soon told -Steerforth, from whom I could no more keep such a secret, than I could -keep a cake or any other tangible possession, about the two old women -Mr. Mell had taken me to see; and I was always afraid that Steerforth -would let it out, and twit him with it. - -We little thought, any one of us, I dare say, when I ate my breakfast -that first morning, and went to sleep under the shadow of the peacock's -feathers to the sound of the flute, what consequences would come of the -introduction into those alms-houses of my insignificant person. But the -visit had its unforeseen consequences; and of a serious sort, too, in -their way. - -One day when Mr. Creakle kept the house from indisposition, which -naturally diffused a lively joy through the school, there was a good -deal of noise in the course of the morning's work. The great relief and -satisfaction experienced by the boys made them difficult to manage; and -though the dreaded Tungay brought his wooden leg in twice or thrice, and -took notes of the principal offenders' names, no great impression was -made by it, as they were pretty sure of getting into trouble tomorrow, -do what they would, and thought it wise, no doubt, to enjoy themselves -today. - -It was, properly, a half-holiday; being Saturday. But as the noise in -the playground would have disturbed Mr. Creakle, and the weather was -not favourable for going out walking, we were ordered into school in the -afternoon, and set some lighter tasks than usual, which were made for -the occasion. It was the day of the week on which Mr. Sharp went out to -get his wig curled; so Mr. Mell, who always did the drudgery, whatever -it was, kept school by himself. If I could associate the idea of a bull -or a bear with anyone so mild as Mr. Mell, I should think of him, in -connexion with that afternoon when the uproar was at its height, as of -one of those animals, baited by a thousand dogs. I recall him bending -his aching head, supported on his bony hand, over the book on his desk, -and wretchedly endeavouring to get on with his tiresome work, amidst an -uproar that might have made the Speaker of the House of Commons giddy. -Boys started in and out of their places, playing at puss in the corner -with other boys; there were laughing boys, singing boys, talking boys, -dancing boys, howling boys; boys shuffled with their feet, boys whirled -about him, grinning, making faces, mimicking him behind his back and -before his eyes; mimicking his poverty, his boots, his coat, his mother, -everything belonging to him that they should have had consideration for. - -'Silence!' cried Mr. Mell, suddenly rising up, and striking his desk -with the book. 'What does this mean! It's impossible to bear it. It's -maddening. How can you do it to me, boys?' - -It was my book that he struck his desk with; and as I stood beside him, -following his eye as it glanced round the room, I saw the boys all stop, -some suddenly surprised, some half afraid, and some sorry perhaps. - -Steerforth's place was at the bottom of the school, at the opposite end -of the long room. He was lounging with his back against the wall, and -his hands in his pockets, and looked at Mr. Mell with his mouth shut up -as if he were whistling, when Mr. Mell looked at him. - -'Silence, Mr. Steerforth!' said Mr. Mell. - -'Silence yourself,' said Steerforth, turning red. 'Whom are you talking -to?' - -'Sit down,' said Mr. Mell. - -'Sit down yourself,' said Steerforth, 'and mind your business.' - -There was a titter, and some applause; but Mr. Mell was so white, that -silence immediately succeeded; and one boy, who had darted out behind -him to imitate his mother again, changed his mind, and pretended to want -a pen mended. - -'If you think, Steerforth,' said Mr. Mell, 'that I am not acquainted -with the power you can establish over any mind here'--he laid his hand, -without considering what he did (as I supposed), upon my head--'or that -I have not observed you, within a few minutes, urging your juniors on to -every sort of outrage against me, you are mistaken.' - -'I don't give myself the trouble of thinking at all about you,' said -Steerforth, coolly; 'so I'm not mistaken, as it happens.' - -'And when you make use of your position of favouritism here, sir,' -pursued Mr. Mell, with his lip trembling very much, 'to insult a -gentleman--' - -'A what?--where is he?' said Steerforth. - -Here somebody cried out, 'Shame, J. Steerforth! Too bad!' It was -Traddles; whom Mr. Mell instantly discomfited by bidding him hold his -tongue. --'To insult one who is not fortunate in life, sir, and who -never gave you the least offence, and the many reasons for not insulting -whom you are old enough and wise enough to understand,' said Mr. Mell, -with his lips trembling more and more, 'you commit a mean and base -action. You can sit down or stand up as you please, sir. Copperfield, go -on.' - -'Young Copperfield,' said Steerforth, coming forward up the room, -'stop a bit. I tell you what, Mr. Mell, once for all. When you take the -liberty of calling me mean or base, or anything of that sort, you are -an impudent beggar. You are always a beggar, you know; but when you do -that, you are an impudent beggar.' - -I am not clear whether he was going to strike Mr. Mell, or Mr. Mell was -going to strike him, or there was any such intention on either side. -I saw a rigidity come upon the whole school as if they had been turned -into stone, and found Mr. Creakle in the midst of us, with Tungay at his -side, and Mrs. and Miss Creakle looking in at the door as if they were -frightened. Mr. Mell, with his elbows on his desk and his face in his -hands, sat, for some moments, quite still. - -'Mr. Mell,' said Mr. Creakle, shaking him by the arm; and his whisper -was so audible now, that Tungay felt it unnecessary to repeat his words; -'you have not forgotten yourself, I hope?' - -'No, sir, no,' returned the Master, showing his face, and shaking his -head, and rubbing his hands in great agitation. 'No, sir. No. I have -remembered myself, I--no, Mr. Creakle, I have not forgotten myself, I--I -have remembered myself, sir. I--I--could wish you had remembered me a -little sooner, Mr. Creakle. It--it--would have been more kind, sir, more -just, sir. It would have saved me something, sir.' - -Mr. Creakle, looking hard at Mr. Mell, put his hand on Tungay's -shoulder, and got his feet upon the form close by, and sat upon the -desk. After still looking hard at Mr. Mell from his throne, as he -shook his head, and rubbed his hands, and remained in the same state of -agitation, Mr. Creakle turned to Steerforth, and said: - -'Now, sir, as he don't condescend to tell me, what is this?' - -Steerforth evaded the question for a little while; looking in scorn and -anger on his opponent, and remaining silent. I could not help thinking -even in that interval, I remember, what a noble fellow he was in -appearance, and how homely and plain Mr. Mell looked opposed to him. - -'What did he mean by talking about favourites, then?' said Steerforth at -length. - -'Favourites?' repeated Mr. Creakle, with the veins in his forehead -swelling quickly. 'Who talked about favourites?' - -'He did,' said Steerforth. - -'And pray, what did you mean by that, sir?' demanded Mr. Creakle, -turning angrily on his assistant. - -'I meant, Mr. Creakle,' he returned in a low voice, 'as I said; that -no pupil had a right to avail himself of his position of favouritism to -degrade me.' - -'To degrade YOU?' said Mr. Creakle. 'My stars! But give me leave to ask -you, Mr. What's-your-name'; and here Mr. Creakle folded his arms, cane -and all, upon his chest, and made such a knot of his brows that his -little eyes were hardly visible below them; 'whether, when you talk -about favourites, you showed proper respect to me? To me, sir,' said Mr. -Creakle, darting his head at him suddenly, and drawing it back again, -'the principal of this establishment, and your employer.' - -'It was not judicious, sir, I am willing to admit,' said Mr. Mell. 'I -should not have done so, if I had been cool.' - -Here Steerforth struck in. - -'Then he said I was mean, and then he said I was base, and then I called -him a beggar. If I had been cool, perhaps I shouldn't have called him a -beggar. But I did, and I am ready to take the consequences of it.' - -Without considering, perhaps, whether there were any consequences to -be taken, I felt quite in a glow at this gallant speech. It made an -impression on the boys too, for there was a low stir among them, though -no one spoke a word. - -'I am surprised, Steerforth--although your candour does you honour,' -said Mr. Creakle, 'does you honour, certainly--I am surprised, -Steerforth, I must say, that you should attach such an epithet to any -person employed and paid in Salem House, sir.' - -Steerforth gave a short laugh. - -'That's not an answer, sir,' said Mr. Creakle, 'to my remark. I expect -more than that from you, Steerforth.' - -If Mr. Mell looked homely, in my eyes, before the handsome boy, it would -be quite impossible to say how homely Mr. Creakle looked. 'Let him deny -it,' said Steerforth. - -'Deny that he is a beggar, Steerforth?' cried Mr. Creakle. 'Why, where -does he go a-begging?' - -'If he is not a beggar himself, his near relation's one,' said -Steerforth. 'It's all the same.' - -He glanced at me, and Mr. Mell's hand gently patted me upon the -shoulder. I looked up with a flush upon my face and remorse in my heart, -but Mr. Mell's eyes were fixed on Steerforth. He continued to pat me -kindly on the shoulder, but he looked at him. - -'Since you expect me, Mr. Creakle, to justify myself,' said Steerforth, -'and to say what I mean,--what I have to say is, that his mother lives -on charity in an alms-house.' - -Mr. Mell still looked at him, and still patted me kindly on the -shoulder, and said to himself, in a whisper, if I heard right: 'Yes, I -thought so.' - -Mr. Creakle turned to his assistant, with a severe frown and laboured -politeness: - -'Now, you hear what this gentleman says, Mr. Mell. Have the goodness, if -you please, to set him right before the assembled school.' - -'He is right, sir, without correction,' returned Mr. Mell, in the midst -of a dead silence; 'what he has said is true.' - -'Be so good then as declare publicly, will you,' said Mr. Creakle, -putting his head on one side, and rolling his eyes round the school, -'whether it ever came to my knowledge until this moment?' - -'I believe not directly,' he returned. - -'Why, you know not,' said Mr. Creakle. 'Don't you, man?' - -'I apprehend you never supposed my worldly circumstances to be very -good,' replied the assistant. 'You know what my position is, and always -has been, here.' - -'I apprehend, if you come to that,' said Mr. Creakle, with his veins -swelling again bigger than ever, 'that you've been in a wrong position -altogether, and mistook this for a charity school. Mr. Mell, we'll part, -if you please. The sooner the better.' - -'There is no time,' answered Mr. Mell, rising, 'like the present.' - -'Sir, to you!' said Mr. Creakle. - -'I take my leave of you, Mr. Creakle, and all of you,' said Mr. Mell, -glancing round the room, and again patting me gently on the shoulders. -'James Steerforth, the best wish I can leave you is that you may come to -be ashamed of what you have done today. At present I would prefer to see -you anything rather than a friend, to me, or to anyone in whom I feel an -interest.' - -Once more he laid his hand upon my shoulder; and then taking his -flute and a few books from his desk, and leaving the key in it for his -successor, he went out of the school, with his property under his arm. -Mr. Creakle then made a speech, through Tungay, in which he thanked -Steerforth for asserting (though perhaps too warmly) the independence -and respectability of Salem House; and which he wound up by shaking -hands with Steerforth, while we gave three cheers--I did not quite know -what for, but I supposed for Steerforth, and so joined in them ardently, -though I felt miserable. Mr. Creakle then caned Tommy Traddles for -being discovered in tears, instead of cheers, on account of Mr. Mell's -departure; and went back to his sofa, or his bed, or wherever he had -come from. - -We were left to ourselves now, and looked very blank, I recollect, on -one another. For myself, I felt so much self-reproach and contrition for -my part in what had happened, that nothing would have enabled me to keep -back my tears but the fear that Steerforth, who often looked at me, I -saw, might think it unfriendly--or, I should rather say, considering our -relative ages, and the feeling with which I regarded him, undutiful--if -I showed the emotion which distressed me. He was very angry with -Traddles, and said he was glad he had caught it. - -Poor Traddles, who had passed the stage of lying with his head upon the -desk, and was relieving himself as usual with a burst of skeletons, said -he didn't care. Mr. Mell was ill-used. - -'Who has ill-used him, you girl?' said Steerforth. - -'Why, you have,' returned Traddles. - -'What have I done?' said Steerforth. - -'What have you done?' retorted Traddles. 'Hurt his feelings, and lost -him his situation.' - -'His feelings?' repeated Steerforth disdainfully. 'His feelings will -soon get the better of it, I'll be bound. His feelings are not like -yours, Miss Traddles. As to his situation--which was a precious one, -wasn't it?--do you suppose I am not going to write home, and take care -that he gets some money? Polly?' - -We thought this intention very noble in Steerforth, whose mother was -a widow, and rich, and would do almost anything, it was said, that he -asked her. We were all extremely glad to see Traddles so put down, -and exalted Steerforth to the skies: especially when he told us, as he -condescended to do, that what he had done had been done expressly for -us, and for our cause; and that he had conferred a great boon upon us -by unselfishly doing it. But I must say that when I was going on with a -story in the dark that night, Mr. Mell's old flute seemed more than once -to sound mournfully in my ears; and that when at last Steerforth was -tired, and I lay down in my bed, I fancied it playing so sorrowfully -somewhere, that I was quite wretched. - -I soon forgot him in the contemplation of Steerforth, who, in an easy -amateur way, and without any book (he seemed to me to know everything by -heart), took some of his classes until a new master was found. The new -master came from a grammar school; and before he entered on his duties, -dined in the parlour one day, to be introduced to Steerforth. Steerforth -approved of him highly, and told us he was a Brick. Without exactly -understanding what learned distinction was meant by this, I respected -him greatly for it, and had no doubt whatever of his superior knowledge: -though he never took the pains with me--not that I was anybody--that Mr. -Mell had taken. - -There was only one other event in this half-year, out of the daily -school-life, that made an impression upon me which still survives. It -survives for many reasons. - -One afternoon, when we were all harassed into a state of dire confusion, -and Mr. Creakle was laying about him dreadfully, Tungay came in, and -called out in his usual strong way: 'Visitors for Copperfield!' - -A few words were interchanged between him and Mr. Creakle, as, who the -visitors were, and what room they were to be shown into; and then I, who -had, according to custom, stood up on the announcement being made, and -felt quite faint with astonishment, was told to go by the back stairs -and get a clean frill on, before I repaired to the dining-room. These -orders I obeyed, in such a flutter and hurry of my young spirits as -I had never known before; and when I got to the parlour door, and the -thought came into my head that it might be my mother--I had only thought -of Mr. or Miss Murdstone until then--I drew back my hand from the lock, -and stopped to have a sob before I went in. - -At first I saw nobody; but feeling a pressure against the door, I looked -round it, and there, to my amazement, were Mr. Peggotty and Ham, ducking -at me with their hats, and squeezing one another against the wall. I -could not help laughing; but it was much more in the pleasure of seeing -them, than at the appearance they made. We shook hands in a very -cordial way; and I laughed and laughed, until I pulled out my -pocket-handkerchief and wiped my eyes. - -Mr. Peggotty (who never shut his mouth once, I remember, during the -visit) showed great concern when he saw me do this, and nudged Ham to -say something. - -'Cheer up, Mas'r Davy bor'!' said Ham, in his simpering way. 'Why, how -you have growed!' - -'Am I grown?' I said, drying my eyes. I was not crying at anything -in particular that I know of; but somehow it made me cry, to see old -friends. - -'Growed, Mas'r Davy bor'? Ain't he growed!' said Ham. - -'Ain't he growed!' said Mr. Peggotty. - -They made me laugh again by laughing at each other, and then we all -three laughed until I was in danger of crying again. - -'Do you know how mama is, Mr. Peggotty?' I said. 'And how my dear, dear, -old Peggotty is?' - -'Oncommon,' said Mr. Peggotty. - -'And little Em'ly, and Mrs. Gummidge?' - -'On--common,' said Mr. Peggotty. - -There was a silence. Mr. Peggotty, to relieve it, took two prodigious -lobsters, and an enormous crab, and a large canvas bag of shrimps, out -of his pockets, and piled them up in Ham's arms. - -'You see,' said Mr. Peggotty, 'knowing as you was partial to a little -relish with your wittles when you was along with us, we took the -liberty. The old Mawther biled 'em, she did. Mrs. Gummidge biled 'em. -Yes,' said Mr. Peggotty, slowly, who I thought appeared to stick to the -subject on account of having no other subject ready, 'Mrs. Gummidge, I -do assure you, she biled 'em.' - -I expressed my thanks; and Mr. Peggotty, after looking at Ham, who stood -smiling sheepishly over the shellfish, without making any attempt to -help him, said: - -'We come, you see, the wind and tide making in our favour, in one of our -Yarmouth lugs to Gravesen'. My sister she wrote to me the name of this -here place, and wrote to me as if ever I chanced to come to Gravesen', -I was to come over and inquire for Mas'r Davy and give her dooty, -humbly wishing him well and reporting of the fam'ly as they was oncommon -toe-be-sure. Little Em'ly, you see, she'll write to my sister when I go -back, as I see you and as you was similarly oncommon, and so we make it -quite a merry-go-rounder.' - -I was obliged to consider a little before I understood what Mr. Peggotty -meant by this figure, expressive of a complete circle of intelligence. I -then thanked him heartily; and said, with a consciousness of reddening, -that I supposed little Em'ly was altered too, since we used to pick up -shells and pebbles on the beach? - -'She's getting to be a woman, that's wot she's getting to be,' said Mr. -Peggotty. 'Ask HIM.' He meant Ham, who beamed with delight and assent -over the bag of shrimps. - -'Her pretty face!' said Mr. Peggotty, with his own shining like a light. - -'Her learning!' said Ham. - -'Her writing!' said Mr. Peggotty. 'Why it's as black as jet! And so -large it is, you might see it anywheres.' - -It was perfectly delightful to behold with what enthusiasm Mr. Peggotty -became inspired when he thought of his little favourite. He stands -before me again, his bluff hairy face irradiating with a joyful love and -pride, for which I can find no description. His honest eyes fire up, and -sparkle, as if their depths were stirred by something bright. His broad -chest heaves with pleasure. His strong loose hands clench themselves, -in his earnestness; and he emphasizes what he says with a right arm that -shows, in my pigmy view, like a sledge-hammer. - -Ham was quite as earnest as he. I dare say they would have said much -more about her, if they had not been abashed by the unexpected coming in -of Steerforth, who, seeing me in a corner speaking with two strangers, -stopped in a song he was singing, and said: 'I didn't know you were -here, young Copperfield!' (for it was not the usual visiting room) and -crossed by us on his way out. - -I am not sure whether it was in the pride of having such a friend as -Steerforth, or in the desire to explain to him how I came to have such a -friend as Mr. Peggotty, that I called to him as he was going away. But I -said, modestly--Good Heaven, how it all comes back to me this long time -afterwards--! - -'Don't go, Steerforth, if you please. These are two Yarmouth -boatmen--very kind, good people--who are relations of my nurse, and have -come from Gravesend to see me.' - -'Aye, aye?' said Steerforth, returning. 'I am glad to see them. How are -you both?' - -There was an ease in his manner--a gay and light manner it was, but not -swaggering--which I still believe to have borne a kind of enchantment -with it. I still believe him, in virtue of this carriage, his animal -spirits, his delightful voice, his handsome face and figure, and, for -aught I know, of some inborn power of attraction besides (which I think -a few people possess), to have carried a spell with him to which it was -a natural weakness to yield, and which not many persons could withstand. -I could not but see how pleased they were with him, and how they seemed -to open their hearts to him in a moment. - -'You must let them know at home, if you please, Mr. Peggotty,' I said, -'when that letter is sent, that Mr. Steerforth is very kind to me, and -that I don't know what I should ever do here without him.' - -'Nonsense!' said Steerforth, laughing. 'You mustn't tell them anything -of the sort.' - -'And if Mr. Steerforth ever comes into Norfolk or Suffolk, Mr. -Peggotty,' I said, 'while I am there, you may depend upon it I shall -bring him to Yarmouth, if he will let me, to see your house. You never -saw such a good house, Steerforth. It's made out of a boat!' - -'Made out of a boat, is it?' said Steerforth. 'It's the right sort of a -house for such a thorough-built boatman.' - -'So 'tis, sir, so 'tis, sir,' said Ham, grinning. 'You're right, young -gen'l'm'n! Mas'r Davy bor', gen'l'm'n's right. A thorough-built boatman! -Hor, hor! That's what he is, too!' - -Mr. Peggotty was no less pleased than his nephew, though his modesty -forbade him to claim a personal compliment so vociferously. - -'Well, sir,' he said, bowing and chuckling, and tucking in the ends -of his neckerchief at his breast: 'I thankee, sir, I thankee! I do my -endeavours in my line of life, sir.' - -'The best of men can do no more, Mr. Peggotty,' said Steerforth. He had -got his name already. - -'I'll pound it, it's wot you do yourself, sir,' said Mr. Peggotty, -shaking his head, 'and wot you do well--right well! I thankee, sir. I'm -obleeged to you, sir, for your welcoming manner of me. I'm rough, sir, -but I'm ready--least ways, I hope I'm ready, you unnerstand. My house -ain't much for to see, sir, but it's hearty at your service if ever you -should come along with Mas'r Davy to see it. I'm a reg'lar Dodman, -I am,' said Mr. Peggotty, by which he meant snail, and this was in -allusion to his being slow to go, for he had attempted to go after every -sentence, and had somehow or other come back again; 'but I wish you both -well, and I wish you happy!' - -Ham echoed this sentiment, and we parted with them in the heartiest -manner. I was almost tempted that evening to tell Steerforth about -pretty little Em'ly, but I was too timid of mentioning her name, and -too much afraid of his laughing at me. I remember that I thought a good -deal, and in an uneasy sort of way, about Mr. Peggotty having said that -she was getting on to be a woman; but I decided that was nonsense. - -We transported the shellfish, or the 'relish' as Mr. Peggotty had -modestly called it, up into our room unobserved, and made a great supper -that evening. But Traddles couldn't get happily out of it. He was too -unfortunate even to come through a supper like anybody else. He was -taken ill in the night--quite prostrate he was--in consequence of Crab; -and after being drugged with black draughts and blue pills, to an extent -which Demple (whose father was a doctor) said was enough to undermine -a horse's constitution, received a caning and six chapters of Greek -Testament for refusing to confess. - -The rest of the half-year is a jumble in my recollection of the daily -strife and struggle of our lives; of the waning summer and the changing -season; of the frosty mornings when we were rung out of bed, and the -cold, cold smell of the dark nights when we were rung into bed again; of -the evening schoolroom dimly lighted and indifferently warmed, and the -morning schoolroom which was nothing but a great shivering-machine; of -the alternation of boiled beef with roast beef, and boiled mutton with -roast mutton; of clods of bread-and-butter, dog's-eared lesson-books, -cracked slates, tear-blotted copy-books, canings, rulerings, -hair-cuttings, rainy Sundays, suet-puddings, and a dirty atmosphere of -ink, surrounding all. - -I well remember though, how the distant idea of the holidays, after -seeming for an immense time to be a stationary speck, began to come -towards us, and to grow and grow. How from counting months, we came to -weeks, and then to days; and how I then began to be afraid that I should -not be sent for and when I learnt from Steerforth that I had been sent -for, and was certainly to go home, had dim forebodings that I might -break my leg first. How the breaking-up day changed its place fast, at -last, from the week after next to next week, this week, the day after -tomorrow, tomorrow, today, tonight--when I was inside the Yarmouth mail, -and going home. - -I had many a broken sleep inside the Yarmouth mail, and many an -incoherent dream of all these things. But when I awoke at intervals, the -ground outside the window was not the playground of Salem House, and the -sound in my ears was not the sound of Mr. Creakle giving it to Traddles, -but the sound of the coachman touching up the horses. - - - -CHAPTER 8. MY HOLIDAYS. ESPECIALLY ONE HAPPY AFTERNOON - - -When we arrived before day at the inn where the mail stopped, which was -not the inn where my friend the waiter lived, I was shown up to a nice -little bedroom, with DOLPHIN painted on the door. Very cold I was, I -know, notwithstanding the hot tea they had given me before a large fire -downstairs; and very glad I was to turn into the Dolphin's bed, pull the -Dolphin's blankets round my head, and go to sleep. - -Mr. Barkis the carrier was to call for me in the morning at nine -o'clock. I got up at eight, a little giddy from the shortness of my -night's rest, and was ready for him before the appointed time. He -received me exactly as if not five minutes had elapsed since we were -last together, and I had only been into the hotel to get change for -sixpence, or something of that sort. - -As soon as I and my box were in the cart, and the carrier seated, the -lazy horse walked away with us all at his accustomed pace. - -'You look very well, Mr. Barkis,' I said, thinking he would like to know -it. - -Mr. Barkis rubbed his cheek with his cuff, and then looked at his cuff -as if he expected to find some of the bloom upon it; but made no other -acknowledgement of the compliment. - -'I gave your message, Mr. Barkis,' I said: 'I wrote to Peggotty.' - -'Ah!' said Mr. Barkis. - -Mr. Barkis seemed gruff, and answered drily. - -'Wasn't it right, Mr. Barkis?' I asked, after a little hesitation. - -'Why, no,' said Mr. Barkis. - -'Not the message?' - -'The message was right enough, perhaps,' said Mr. Barkis; 'but it come -to an end there.' - -Not understanding what he meant, I repeated inquisitively: 'Came to an -end, Mr. Barkis?' - -'Nothing come of it,' he explained, looking at me sideways. 'No answer.' - -'There was an answer expected, was there, Mr. Barkis?' said I, opening -my eyes. For this was a new light to me. - -'When a man says he's willin',' said Mr. Barkis, turning his glance -slowly on me again, 'it's as much as to say, that man's a-waitin' for a -answer.' - -'Well, Mr. Barkis?' - -'Well,' said Mr. Barkis, carrying his eyes back to his horse's ears; -'that man's been a-waitin' for a answer ever since.' - -'Have you told her so, Mr. Barkis?' - -'No--no,' growled Mr. Barkis, reflecting about it. 'I ain't got no call -to go and tell her so. I never said six words to her myself, I ain't -a-goin' to tell her so.' - -'Would you like me to do it, Mr. Barkis?' said I, doubtfully. 'You might -tell her, if you would,' said Mr. Barkis, with another slow look at me, -'that Barkis was a-waitin' for a answer. Says you--what name is it?' - -'Her name?' - -'Ah!' said Mr. Barkis, with a nod of his head. - -'Peggotty.' - -'Chrisen name? Or nat'ral name?' said Mr. Barkis. - -'Oh, it's not her Christian name. Her Christian name is Clara.' - -'Is it though?' said Mr. Barkis. - -He seemed to find an immense fund of reflection in this circumstance, -and sat pondering and inwardly whistling for some time. - -'Well!' he resumed at length. 'Says you, "Peggotty! Barkis is waitin' -for a answer." Says she, perhaps, "Answer to what?" Says you, "To what I -told you." "What is that?" says she. "Barkis is willin'," says you.' - -This extremely artful suggestion Mr. Barkis accompanied with a nudge -of his elbow that gave me quite a stitch in my side. After that, he -slouched over his horse in his usual manner; and made no other reference -to the subject except, half an hour afterwards, taking a piece of chalk -from his pocket, and writing up, inside the tilt of the cart, 'Clara -Peggotty'--apparently as a private memorandum. - -Ah, what a strange feeling it was to be going home when it was not home, -and to find that every object I looked at, reminded me of the happy old -home, which was like a dream I could never dream again! The days when my -mother and I and Peggotty were all in all to one another, and there was -no one to come between us, rose up before me so sorrowfully on the road, -that I am not sure I was glad to be there--not sure but that I would -rather have remained away, and forgotten it in Steerforth's company. But -there I was; and soon I was at our house, where the bare old elm-trees -wrung their many hands in the bleak wintry air, and shreds of the old -rooks'-nests drifted away upon the wind. - -The carrier put my box down at the garden-gate, and left me. I walked -along the path towards the house, glancing at the windows, and fearing -at every step to see Mr. Murdstone or Miss Murdstone lowering out of -one of them. No face appeared, however; and being come to the house, and -knowing how to open the door, before dark, without knocking, I went in -with a quiet, timid step. - -God knows how infantine the memory may have been, that was awakened -within me by the sound of my mother's voice in the old parlour, when I -set foot in the hall. She was singing in a low tone. I think I must have -lain in her arms, and heard her singing so to me when I was but a baby. -The strain was new to me, and yet it was so old that it filled my heart -brim-full; like a friend come back from a long absence. - -I believed, from the solitary and thoughtful way in which my mother -murmured her song, that she was alone. And I went softly into the room. -She was sitting by the fire, suckling an infant, whose tiny hand she -held against her neck. Her eyes were looking down upon its face, and she -sat singing to it. I was so far right, that she had no other companion. - -I spoke to her, and she started, and cried out. But seeing me, she -called me her dear Davy, her own boy! and coming half across the room -to meet me, kneeled down upon the ground and kissed me, and laid my head -down on her bosom near the little creature that was nestling there, and -put its hand to my lips. - -I wish I had died. I wish I had died then, with that feeling in my -heart! I should have been more fit for Heaven than I ever have been -since. - -'He is your brother,' said my mother, fondling me. 'Davy, my pretty boy! -My poor child!' Then she kissed me more and more, and clasped me round -the neck. This she was doing when Peggotty came running in, and bounced -down on the ground beside us, and went mad about us both for a quarter -of an hour. - -It seemed that I had not been expected so soon, the carrier being much -before his usual time. It seemed, too, that Mr. and Miss Murdstone had -gone out upon a visit in the neighbourhood, and would not return before -night. I had never hoped for this. I had never thought it possible that -we three could be together undisturbed, once more; and I felt, for the -time, as if the old days were come back. - -We dined together by the fireside. Peggotty was in attendance to wait -upon us, but my mother wouldn't let her do it, and made her dine with -us. I had my own old plate, with a brown view of a man-of-war in full -sail upon it, which Peggotty had hoarded somewhere all the time I -had been away, and would not have had broken, she said, for a hundred -pounds. I had my own old mug with David on it, and my own old little -knife and fork that wouldn't cut. - -While we were at table, I thought it a favourable occasion to tell -Peggotty about Mr. Barkis, who, before I had finished what I had to tell -her, began to laugh, and throw her apron over her face. - -'Peggotty,' said my mother. 'What's the matter?' - -Peggotty only laughed the more, and held her apron tight over her face -when my mother tried to pull it away, and sat as if her head were in a -bag. - -'What are you doing, you stupid creature?' said my mother, laughing. - -'Oh, drat the man!' cried Peggotty. 'He wants to marry me.' - -'It would be a very good match for you; wouldn't it?' said my mother. - -'Oh! I don't know,' said Peggotty. 'Don't ask me. I wouldn't have him if -he was made of gold. Nor I wouldn't have anybody.' - -'Then, why don't you tell him so, you ridiculous thing?' said my mother. - -'Tell him so,' retorted Peggotty, looking out of her apron. 'He has -never said a word to me about it. He knows better. If he was to make so -bold as say a word to me, I should slap his face.' - -Her own was as red as ever I saw it, or any other face, I think; but she -only covered it again, for a few moments at a time, when she was taken -with a violent fit of laughter; and after two or three of those attacks, -went on with her dinner. - -I remarked that my mother, though she smiled when Peggotty looked at -her, became more serious and thoughtful. I had seen at first that she -was changed. Her face was very pretty still, but it looked careworn, and -too delicate; and her hand was so thin and white that it seemed to me -to be almost transparent. But the change to which I now refer was -superadded to this: it was in her manner, which became anxious and -fluttered. At last she said, putting out her hand, and laying it -affectionately on the hand of her old servant, - -'Peggotty, dear, you are not going to be married?' - -'Me, ma'am?' returned Peggotty, staring. 'Lord bless you, no!' - -'Not just yet?' said my mother, tenderly. - -'Never!' cried Peggotty. - -My mother took her hand, and said: - -'Don't leave me, Peggotty. Stay with me. It will not be for long, -perhaps. What should I ever do without you!' - -'Me leave you, my precious!' cried Peggotty. 'Not for all the world and -his wife. Why, what's put that in your silly little head?'--For Peggotty -had been used of old to talk to my mother sometimes like a child. - -But my mother made no answer, except to thank her, and Peggotty went -running on in her own fashion. - -'Me leave you? I think I see myself. Peggotty go away from you? I should -like to catch her at it! No, no, no,' said Peggotty, shaking her head, -and folding her arms; 'not she, my dear. It isn't that there ain't some -Cats that would be well enough pleased if she did, but they sha'n't be -pleased. They shall be aggravated. I'll stay with you till I am a cross -cranky old woman. And when I'm too deaf, and too lame, and too blind, -and too mumbly for want of teeth, to be of any use at all, even to be -found fault with, than I shall go to my Davy, and ask him to take me -in.' - -'And, Peggotty,' says I, 'I shall be glad to see you, and I'll make you -as welcome as a queen.' - -'Bless your dear heart!' cried Peggotty. 'I know you will!' And she -kissed me beforehand, in grateful acknowledgement of my hospitality. -After that, she covered her head up with her apron again and had another -laugh about Mr. Barkis. After that, she took the baby out of its little -cradle, and nursed it. After that, she cleared the dinner table; -after that, came in with another cap on, and her work-box, and the -yard-measure, and the bit of wax-candle, all just the same as ever. - -We sat round the fire, and talked delightfully. I told them what a hard -master Mr. Creakle was, and they pitied me very much. I told them what a -fine fellow Steerforth was, and what a patron of mine, and Peggotty said -she would walk a score of miles to see him. I took the little baby in -my arms when it was awake, and nursed it lovingly. When it was asleep -again, I crept close to my mother's side according to my old custom, -broken now a long time, and sat with my arms embracing her waist, and my -little red cheek on her shoulder, and once more felt her beautiful -hair drooping over me--like an angel's wing as I used to think, I -recollect--and was very happy indeed. - -While I sat thus, looking at the fire, and seeing pictures in the -red-hot coals, I almost believed that I had never been away; that Mr. -and Miss Murdstone were such pictures, and would vanish when the fire -got low; and that there was nothing real in all that I remembered, save -my mother, Peggotty, and I. - -Peggotty darned away at a stocking as long as she could see, and then -sat with it drawn on her left hand like a glove, and her needle in her -right, ready to take another stitch whenever there was a blaze. I cannot -conceive whose stockings they can have been that Peggotty was always -darning, or where such an unfailing supply of stockings in want of -darning can have come from. From my earliest infancy she seems to have -been always employed in that class of needlework, and never by any -chance in any other. - -'I wonder,' said Peggotty, who was sometimes seized with a fit of -wondering on some most unexpected topic, 'what's become of Davy's -great-aunt?' 'Lor, Peggotty!' observed my mother, rousing herself from a -reverie, 'what nonsense you talk!' - -'Well, but I really do wonder, ma'am,' said Peggotty. - -'What can have put such a person in your head?' inquired my mother. 'Is -there nobody else in the world to come there?' - -'I don't know how it is,' said Peggotty, 'unless it's on account of -being stupid, but my head never can pick and choose its people. They -come and they go, and they don't come and they don't go, just as they -like. I wonder what's become of her?' - -'How absurd you are, Peggotty!' returned my mother. 'One would suppose -you wanted a second visit from her.' - -'Lord forbid!' cried Peggotty. - -'Well then, don't talk about such uncomfortable things, there's a good -soul,' said my mother. 'Miss Betsey is shut up in her cottage by the -sea, no doubt, and will remain there. At all events, she is not likely -ever to trouble us again.' - -'No!' mused Peggotty. 'No, that ain't likely at all.---I wonder, if she -was to die, whether she'd leave Davy anything?' - -'Good gracious me, Peggotty,' returned my mother, 'what a nonsensical -woman you are! when you know that she took offence at the poor dear -boy's ever being born at all.' - -'I suppose she wouldn't be inclined to forgive him now,' hinted -Peggotty. - -'Why should she be inclined to forgive him now?' said my mother, rather -sharply. - -'Now that he's got a brother, I mean,' said Peggotty. - -My mother immediately began to cry, and wondered how Peggotty dared to -say such a thing. - -'As if this poor little innocent in its cradle had ever done any harm to -you or anybody else, you jealous thing!' said she. 'You had much better -go and marry Mr. Barkis, the carrier. Why don't you?' - -'I should make Miss Murdstone happy, if I was to,' said Peggotty. - -'What a bad disposition you have, Peggotty!' returned my mother. 'You -are as jealous of Miss Murdstone as it is possible for a ridiculous -creature to be. You want to keep the keys yourself, and give out all the -things, I suppose? I shouldn't be surprised if you did. When you know -that she only does it out of kindness and the best intentions! You know -she does, Peggotty--you know it well.' - -Peggotty muttered something to the effect of 'Bother the best -intentions!' and something else to the effect that there was a little -too much of the best intentions going on. - -'I know what you mean, you cross thing,' said my mother. 'I understand -you, Peggotty, perfectly. You know I do, and I wonder you don't colour -up like fire. But one point at a time. Miss Murdstone is the point now, -Peggotty, and you sha'n't escape from it. Haven't you heard her -say, over and over again, that she thinks I am too thoughtless and -too--a--a--' - -'Pretty,' suggested Peggotty. - -'Well,' returned my mother, half laughing, 'and if she is so silly as to -say so, can I be blamed for it?' - -'No one says you can,' said Peggotty. - -'No, I should hope not, indeed!' returned my mother. 'Haven't you heard -her say, over and over again, that on this account she wished to spare -me a great deal of trouble, which she thinks I am not suited for, and -which I really don't know myself that I AM suited for; and isn't she up -early and late, and going to and fro continually--and doesn't she do -all sorts of things, and grope into all sorts of places, coal-holes and -pantries and I don't know where, that can't be very agreeable--and do -you mean to insinuate that there is not a sort of devotion in that?' - -'I don't insinuate at all,' said Peggotty. - -'You do, Peggotty,' returned my mother. 'You never do anything else, -except your work. You are always insinuating. You revel in it. And when -you talk of Mr. Murdstone's good intentions--' - -'I never talked of 'em,' said Peggotty. - -'No, Peggotty,' returned my mother, 'but you insinuated. That's what I -told you just now. That's the worst of you. You WILL insinuate. I said, -at the moment, that I understood you, and you see I did. When you talk -of Mr. Murdstone's good intentions, and pretend to slight them (for I -don't believe you really do, in your heart, Peggotty), you must be as -well convinced as I am how good they are, and how they actuate him in -everything. If he seems to have been at all stern with a certain person, -Peggotty--you understand, and so I am sure does Davy, that I am not -alluding to anybody present--it is solely because he is satisfied that -it is for a certain person's benefit. He naturally loves a certain -person, on my account; and acts solely for a certain person's good. He -is better able to judge of it than I am; for I very well know that I am -a weak, light, girlish creature, and that he is a firm, grave, serious -man. And he takes,' said my mother, with the tears which were engendered -in her affectionate nature, stealing down her face, 'he takes great -pains with me; and I ought to be very thankful to him, and very -submissive to him even in my thoughts; and when I am not, Peggotty, I -worry and condemn myself, and feel doubtful of my own heart, and don't -know what to do.' - -Peggotty sat with her chin on the foot of the stocking, looking silently -at the fire. - -'There, Peggotty,' said my mother, changing her tone, 'don't let us fall -out with one another, for I couldn't bear it. You are my true friend, I -know, if I have any in the world. When I call you a ridiculous creature, -or a vexatious thing, or anything of that sort, Peggotty, I only mean -that you are my true friend, and always have been, ever since the night -when Mr. Copperfield first brought me home here, and you came out to the -gate to meet me.' - -Peggotty was not slow to respond, and ratify the treaty of friendship by -giving me one of her best hugs. I think I had some glimpses of the real -character of this conversation at the time; but I am sure, now, that -the good creature originated it, and took her part in it, merely that -my mother might comfort herself with the little contradictory summary in -which she had indulged. The design was efficacious; for I remember that -my mother seemed more at ease during the rest of the evening, and that -Peggotty observed her less. - -When we had had our tea, and the ashes were thrown up, and the candles -snuffed, I read Peggotty a chapter out of the Crocodile Book, in -remembrance of old times--she took it out of her pocket: I don't know -whether she had kept it there ever since--and then we talked about Salem -House, which brought me round again to Steerforth, who was my great -subject. We were very happy; and that evening, as the last of its race, -and destined evermore to close that volume of my life, will never pass -out of my memory. - -It was almost ten o'clock before we heard the sound of wheels. We all -got up then; and my mother said hurriedly that, as it was so late, and -Mr. and Miss Murdstone approved of early hours for young people, perhaps -I had better go to bed. I kissed her, and went upstairs with my candle -directly, before they came in. It appeared to my childish fancy, as I -ascended to the bedroom where I had been imprisoned, that they brought -a cold blast of air into the house which blew away the old familiar -feeling like a feather. - -I felt uncomfortable about going down to breakfast in the morning, as -I had never set eyes on Mr. Murdstone since the day when I committed my -memorable offence. However, as it must be done, I went down, after two -or three false starts half-way, and as many runs back on tiptoe to my -own room, and presented myself in the parlour. - -He was standing before the fire with his back to it, while Miss -Murdstone made the tea. He looked at me steadily as I entered, but made -no sign of recognition whatever. I went up to him, after a moment of -confusion, and said: 'I beg your pardon, sir. I am very sorry for what I -did, and I hope you will forgive me.' - -'I am glad to hear you are sorry, David,' he replied. - -The hand he gave me was the hand I had bitten. I could not restrain my -eye from resting for an instant on a red spot upon it; but it was not so -red as I turned, when I met that sinister expression in his face. - -'How do you do, ma'am?' I said to Miss Murdstone. - -'Ah, dear me!' sighed Miss Murdstone, giving me the tea-caddy scoop -instead of her fingers. 'How long are the holidays?' - -'A month, ma'am.' - -'Counting from when?' - -'From today, ma'am.' - -'Oh!' said Miss Murdstone. 'Then here's one day off.' - -She kept a calendar of the holidays in this way, and every morning -checked a day off in exactly the same manner. She did it gloomily until -she came to ten, but when she got into two figures she became more -hopeful, and, as the time advanced, even jocular. - -It was on this very first day that I had the misfortune to throw her, -though she was not subject to such weakness in general, into a state of -violent consternation. I came into the room where she and my mother -were sitting; and the baby (who was only a few weeks old) being on -my mother's lap, I took it very carefully in my arms. Suddenly Miss -Murdstone gave such a scream that I all but dropped it. - -'My dear Jane!' cried my mother. - -'Good heavens, Clara, do you see?' exclaimed Miss Murdstone. - -'See what, my dear Jane?' said my mother; 'where?' - -'He's got it!' cried Miss Murdstone. 'The boy has got the baby!' - -She was limp with horror; but stiffened herself to make a dart at me, -and take it out of my arms. Then, she turned faint; and was so very -ill that they were obliged to give her cherry brandy. I was solemnly -interdicted by her, on her recovery, from touching my brother any more -on any pretence whatever; and my poor mother, who, I could see, wished -otherwise, meekly confirmed the interdict, by saying: 'No doubt you are -right, my dear Jane.' - -On another occasion, when we three were together, this same dear -baby--it was truly dear to me, for our mother's sake--was the innocent -occasion of Miss Murdstone's going into a passion. My mother, who had -been looking at its eyes as it lay upon her lap, said: - -'Davy! come here!' and looked at mine. - -I saw Miss Murdstone lay her beads down. - -'I declare,' said my mother, gently, 'they are exactly alike. I suppose -they are mine. I think they are the colour of mine. But they are -wonderfully alike.' - -'What are you talking about, Clara?' said Miss Murdstone. - -'My dear Jane,' faltered my mother, a little abashed by the harsh tone -of this inquiry, 'I find that the baby's eyes and Davy's are exactly -alike.' - -'Clara!' said Miss Murdstone, rising angrily, 'you are a positive fool -sometimes.' - -'My dear Jane,' remonstrated my mother. - -'A positive fool,' said Miss Murdstone. 'Who else could compare my -brother's baby with your boy? They are not at all alike. They are -exactly unlike. They are utterly dissimilar in all respects. I hope -they will ever remain so. I will not sit here, and hear such comparisons -made.' With that she stalked out, and made the door bang after her. - -In short, I was not a favourite with Miss Murdstone. In short, I was not -a favourite there with anybody, not even with myself; for those who did -like me could not show it, and those who did not, showed it so plainly -that I had a sensitive consciousness of always appearing constrained, -boorish, and dull. - -I felt that I made them as uncomfortable as they made me. If I came into -the room where they were, and they were talking together and my mother -seemed cheerful, an anxious cloud would steal over her face from the -moment of my entrance. If Mr. Murdstone were in his best humour, I -checked him. If Miss Murdstone were in her worst, I intensified it. I -had perception enough to know that my mother was the victim always; that -she was afraid to speak to me or to be kind to me, lest she should -give them some offence by her manner of doing so, and receive a -lecture afterwards; that she was not only ceaselessly afraid of her own -offending, but of my offending, and uneasily watched their looks if I -only moved. Therefore I resolved to keep myself as much out of their way -as I could; and many a wintry hour did I hear the church clock strike, -when I was sitting in my cheerless bedroom, wrapped in my little -great-coat, poring over a book. - -In the evening, sometimes, I went and sat with Peggotty in the kitchen. -There I was comfortable, and not afraid of being myself. But neither of -these resources was approved of in the parlour. The tormenting humour -which was dominant there stopped them both. I was still held to be -necessary to my poor mother's training, and, as one of her trials, could -not be suffered to absent myself. - -'David,' said Mr. Murdstone, one day after dinner when I was going to -leave the room as usual; 'I am sorry to observe that you are of a sullen -disposition.' - -'As sulky as a bear!' said Miss Murdstone. - -I stood still, and hung my head. - -'Now, David,' said Mr. Murdstone, 'a sullen obdurate disposition is, of -all tempers, the worst.' - -'And the boy's is, of all such dispositions that ever I have seen,' -remarked his sister, 'the most confirmed and stubborn. I think, my dear -Clara, even you must observe it?' - -'I beg your pardon, my dear Jane,' said my mother, 'but are you quite -sure--I am certain you'll excuse me, my dear Jane--that you understand -Davy?' - -'I should be somewhat ashamed of myself, Clara,' returned Miss -Murdstone, 'if I could not understand the boy, or any boy. I don't -profess to be profound; but I do lay claim to common sense.' - -'No doubt, my dear Jane,' returned my mother, 'your understanding is -very vigorous--' - -'Oh dear, no! Pray don't say that, Clara,' interposed Miss Murdstone, -angrily. - -'But I am sure it is,' resumed my mother; 'and everybody knows it is. I -profit so much by it myself, in many ways--at least I ought to--that no -one can be more convinced of it than myself; and therefore I speak with -great diffidence, my dear Jane, I assure you.' - -'We'll say I don't understand the boy, Clara,' returned Miss Murdstone, -arranging the little fetters on her wrists. 'We'll agree, if you please, -that I don't understand him at all. He is much too deep for me. But -perhaps my brother's penetration may enable him to have some insight -into his character. And I believe my brother was speaking on the subject -when we--not very decently--interrupted him.' - -'I think, Clara,' said Mr. Murdstone, in a low grave voice, 'that there -may be better and more dispassionate judges of such a question than -you.' - -'Edward,' replied my mother, timidly, 'you are a far better judge of all -questions than I pretend to be. Both you and Jane are. I only said--' - -'You only said something weak and inconsiderate,' he replied. 'Try not -to do it again, my dear Clara, and keep a watch upon yourself.' - -My mother's lips moved, as if she answered 'Yes, my dear Edward,' but -she said nothing aloud. - -'I was sorry, David, I remarked,' said Mr. Murdstone, turning his head -and his eyes stiffly towards me, 'to observe that you are of a sullen -disposition. This is not a character that I can suffer to develop itself -beneath my eyes without an effort at improvement. You must endeavour, -sir, to change it. We must endeavour to change it for you.' - -'I beg your pardon, sir,' I faltered. 'I have never meant to be sullen -since I came back.' - -'Don't take refuge in a lie, sir!' he returned so fiercely, that I saw -my mother involuntarily put out her trembling hand as if to interpose -between us. 'You have withdrawn yourself in your sullenness to your own -room. You have kept your own room when you ought to have been here. You -know now, once for all, that I require you to be here, and not there. -Further, that I require you to bring obedience here. You know me, David. -I will have it done.' - -Miss Murdstone gave a hoarse chuckle. - -'I will have a respectful, prompt, and ready bearing towards myself,' he -continued, 'and towards Jane Murdstone, and towards your mother. I will -not have this room shunned as if it were infected, at the pleasure of a -child. Sit down.' - -He ordered me like a dog, and I obeyed like a dog. - -'One thing more,' he said. 'I observe that you have an attachment to low -and common company. You are not to associate with servants. The -kitchen will not improve you, in the many respects in which you need -improvement. Of the woman who abets you, I say nothing--since you, -Clara,' addressing my mother in a lower voice, 'from old associations -and long-established fancies, have a weakness respecting her which is -not yet overcome.' - -'A most unaccountable delusion it is!' cried Miss Murdstone. - -'I only say,' he resumed, addressing me, 'that I disapprove of your -preferring such company as Mistress Peggotty, and that it is to be -abandoned. Now, David, you understand me, and you know what will be the -consequence if you fail to obey me to the letter.' - -I knew well--better perhaps than he thought, as far as my poor mother -was concerned--and I obeyed him to the letter. I retreated to my own -room no more; I took refuge with Peggotty no more; but sat wearily in -the parlour day after day, looking forward to night, and bedtime. - -What irksome constraint I underwent, sitting in the same attitude hours -upon hours, afraid to move an arm or a leg lest Miss Murdstone should -complain (as she did on the least pretence) of my restlessness, and -afraid to move an eye lest she should light on some look of dislike -or scrutiny that would find new cause for complaint in mine! What -intolerable dulness to sit listening to the ticking of the clock; and -watching Miss Murdstone's little shiny steel beads as she strung them; -and wondering whether she would ever be married, and if so, to what -sort of unhappy man; and counting the divisions in the moulding of the -chimney-piece; and wandering away, with my eyes, to the ceiling, among -the curls and corkscrews in the paper on the wall! - -What walks I took alone, down muddy lanes, in the bad winter weather, -carrying that parlour, and Mr. and Miss Murdstone in it, everywhere: a -monstrous load that I was obliged to bear, a daymare that there was -no possibility of breaking in, a weight that brooded on my wits, and -blunted them! - -What meals I had in silence and embarrassment, always feeling that there -were a knife and fork too many, and that mine; an appetite too many, and -that mine; a plate and chair too many, and those mine; a somebody too -many, and that I! - -What evenings, when the candles came, and I was expected to employ -myself, but, not daring to read an entertaining book, pored over some -hard-headed, harder-hearted treatise on arithmetic; when the tables of -weights and measures set themselves to tunes, as 'Rule Britannia', or -'Away with Melancholy'; when they wouldn't stand still to be learnt, but -would go threading my grandmother's needle through my unfortunate head, -in at one ear and out at the other! What yawns and dozes I lapsed into, -in spite of all my care; what starts I came out of concealed sleeps -with; what answers I never got, to little observations that I rarely -made; what a blank space I seemed, which everybody overlooked, and -yet was in everybody's way; what a heavy relief it was to hear Miss -Murdstone hail the first stroke of nine at night, and order me to bed! - -Thus the holidays lagged away, until the morning came when Miss -Murdstone said: 'Here's the last day off!' and gave me the closing cup -of tea of the vacation. - -I was not sorry to go. I had lapsed into a stupid state; but I was -recovering a little and looking forward to Steerforth, albeit Mr. -Creakle loomed behind him. Again Mr. Barkis appeared at the gate, and -again Miss Murdstone in her warning voice, said: 'Clara!' when my mother -bent over me, to bid me farewell. - -I kissed her, and my baby brother, and was very sorry then; but not -sorry to go away, for the gulf between us was there, and the parting was -there, every day. And it is not so much the embrace she gave me, that -lives in my mind, though it was as fervent as could be, as what followed -the embrace. - -I was in the carrier's cart when I heard her calling to me. I looked -out, and she stood at the garden-gate alone, holding her baby up in her -arms for me to see. It was cold still weather; and not a hair of her -head, nor a fold of her dress, was stirred, as she looked intently at -me, holding up her child. - -So I lost her. So I saw her afterwards, in my sleep at school--a silent -presence near my bed--looking at me with the same intent face--holding -up her baby in her arms. - - - -CHAPTER 9. I HAVE A MEMORABLE BIRTHDAY - - -I PASS over all that happened at school, until the anniversary of my -birthday came round in March. Except that Steerforth was more to be -admired than ever, I remember nothing. He was going away at the end of -the half-year, if not sooner, and was more spirited and independent than -before in my eyes, and therefore more engaging than before; but beyond -this I remember nothing. The great remembrance by which that time is -marked in my mind, seems to have swallowed up all lesser recollections, -and to exist alone. - -It is even difficult for me to believe that there was a gap of full -two months between my return to Salem House and the arrival of that -birthday. I can only understand that the fact was so, because I know it -must have been so; otherwise I should feel convinced that there was no -interval, and that the one occasion trod upon the other's heels. - -How well I recollect the kind of day it was! I smell the fog that hung -about the place; I see the hoar frost, ghostly, through it; I feel my -rimy hair fall clammy on my cheek; I look along the dim perspective of -the schoolroom, with a sputtering candle here and there to light up the -foggy morning, and the breath of the boys wreathing and smoking in the -raw cold as they blow upon their fingers, and tap their feet upon the -floor. It was after breakfast, and we had been summoned in from the -playground, when Mr. Sharp entered and said: - -'David Copperfield is to go into the parlour.' - -I expected a hamper from Peggotty, and brightened at the order. Some -of the boys about me put in their claim not to be forgotten in the -distribution of the good things, as I got out of my seat with great -alacrity. - -'Don't hurry, David,' said Mr. Sharp. 'There's time enough, my boy, -don't hurry.' - -I might have been surprised by the feeling tone in which he spoke, if I -had given it a thought; but I gave it none until afterwards. I hurried -away to the parlour; and there I found Mr. Creakle, sitting at his -breakfast with the cane and a newspaper before him, and Mrs. Creakle -with an opened letter in her hand. But no hamper. - -'David Copperfield,' said Mrs. Creakle, leading me to a sofa, and -sitting down beside me. 'I want to speak to you very particularly. I -have something to tell you, my child.' - -Mr. Creakle, at whom of course I looked, shook his head without looking -at me, and stopped up a sigh with a very large piece of buttered toast. - -'You are too young to know how the world changes every day,' said Mrs. -Creakle, 'and how the people in it pass away. But we all have to learn -it, David; some of us when we are young, some of us when we are old, -some of us at all times of our lives.' - -I looked at her earnestly. - -'When you came away from home at the end of the vacation,' said Mrs. -Creakle, after a pause, 'were they all well?' After another pause, 'Was -your mama well?' - -I trembled without distinctly knowing why, and still looked at her -earnestly, making no attempt to answer. - -'Because,' said she, 'I grieve to tell you that I hear this morning your -mama is very ill.' - -A mist rose between Mrs. Creakle and me, and her figure seemed to move -in it for an instant. Then I felt the burning tears run down my face, -and it was steady again. - -'She is very dangerously ill,' she added. - -I knew all now. - -'She is dead.' - -There was no need to tell me so. I had already broken out into a -desolate cry, and felt an orphan in the wide world. - -She was very kind to me. She kept me there all day, and left me alone -sometimes; and I cried, and wore myself to sleep, and awoke and -cried again. When I could cry no more, I began to think; and then the -oppression on my breast was heaviest, and my grief a dull pain that -there was no ease for. - -And yet my thoughts were idle; not intent on the calamity that weighed -upon my heart, but idly loitering near it. I thought of our house shut -up and hushed. I thought of the little baby, who, Mrs. Creakle said, had -been pining away for some time, and who, they believed, would die too. I -thought of my father's grave in the churchyard, by our house, and of my -mother lying there beneath the tree I knew so well. I stood upon a chair -when I was left alone, and looked into the glass to see how red my eyes -were, and how sorrowful my face. I considered, after some hours were -gone, if my tears were really hard to flow now, as they seemed to be, -what, in connexion with my loss, it would affect me most to think -of when I drew near home--for I was going home to the funeral. I am -sensible of having felt that a dignity attached to me among the rest of -the boys, and that I was important in my affliction. - -If ever child were stricken with sincere grief, I was. But I remember -that this importance was a kind of satisfaction to me, when I walked in -the playground that afternoon while the boys were in school. When I -saw them glancing at me out of the windows, as they went up to their -classes, I felt distinguished, and looked more melancholy, and walked -slower. When school was over, and they came out and spoke to me, I felt -it rather good in myself not to be proud to any of them, and to take -exactly the same notice of them all, as before. - -I was to go home next night; not by the mail, but by the heavy -night-coach, which was called the Farmer, and was principally used by -country-people travelling short intermediate distances upon the road. We -had no story-telling that evening, and Traddles insisted on lending me -his pillow. I don't know what good he thought it would do me, for I -had one of my own: but it was all he had to lend, poor fellow, except a -sheet of letter-paper full of skeletons; and that he gave me at parting, -as a soother of my sorrows and a contribution to my peace of mind. - -I left Salem House upon the morrow afternoon. I little thought then that -I left it, never to return. We travelled very slowly all night, and -did not get into Yarmouth before nine or ten o'clock in the morning. I -looked out for Mr. Barkis, but he was not there; and instead of him a -fat, short-winded, merry-looking, little old man in black, with rusty -little bunches of ribbons at the knees of his breeches, black stockings, -and a broad-brimmed hat, came puffing up to the coach window, and said: - -'Master Copperfield?' - -'Yes, sir.' - -'Will you come with me, young sir, if you please,' he said, opening the -door, 'and I shall have the pleasure of taking you home.' - -I put my hand in his, wondering who he was, and we walked away to a -shop in a narrow street, on which was written OMER, DRAPER, TAILOR, -HABERDASHER, FUNERAL FURNISHER, &c. It was a close and stifling little -shop; full of all sorts of clothing, made and unmade, including -one window full of beaver-hats and bonnets. We went into a little -back-parlour behind the shop, where we found three young women at work -on a quantity of black materials, which were heaped upon the table, -and little bits and cuttings of which were littered all over the floor. -There was a good fire in the room, and a breathless smell of warm black -crape--I did not know what the smell was then, but I know now. - -The three young women, who appeared to be very industrious and -comfortable, raised their heads to look at me, and then went on with -their work. Stitch, stitch, stitch. At the same time there came from -a workshop across a little yard outside the window, a regular sound -of hammering that kept a kind of tune: RAT--tat-tat, RAT--tat-tat, -RAT--tat-tat, without any variation. - -'Well,' said my conductor to one of the three young women. 'How do you -get on, Minnie?' - -'We shall be ready by the trying-on time,' she replied gaily, without -looking up. 'Don't you be afraid, father.' - -Mr. Omer took off his broad-brimmed hat, and sat down and panted. He was -so fat that he was obliged to pant some time before he could say: - -'That's right.' - -'Father!' said Minnie, playfully. 'What a porpoise you do grow!' - -'Well, I don't know how it is, my dear,' he replied, considering about -it. 'I am rather so.' - -'You are such a comfortable man, you see,' said Minnie. 'You take things -so easy.' - -'No use taking 'em otherwise, my dear,' said Mr. Omer. - -'No, indeed,' returned his daughter. 'We are all pretty gay here, thank -Heaven! Ain't we, father?' - -'I hope so, my dear,' said Mr. Omer. 'As I have got my breath now, I -think I'll measure this young scholar. Would you walk into the shop, -Master Copperfield?' - -I preceded Mr. Omer, in compliance with his request; and after showing -me a roll of cloth which he said was extra super, and too good mourning -for anything short of parents, he took my various dimensions, and put -them down in a book. While he was recording them he called my attention -to his stock in trade, and to certain fashions which he said had 'just -come up', and to certain other fashions which he said had 'just gone -out'. - -'And by that sort of thing we very often lose a little mint of money,' -said Mr. Omer. 'But fashions are like human beings. They come in, nobody -knows when, why, or how; and they go out, nobody knows when, why, or -how. Everything is like life, in my opinion, if you look at it in that -point of view.' - -I was too sorrowful to discuss the question, which would possibly have -been beyond me under any circumstances; and Mr. Omer took me back into -the parlour, breathing with some difficulty on the way. - -He then called down a little break-neck range of steps behind a door: -'Bring up that tea and bread-and-butter!' which, after some time, -during which I sat looking about me and thinking, and listening to the -stitching in the room and the tune that was being hammered across the -yard, appeared on a tray, and turned out to be for me. - -'I have been acquainted with you,' said Mr. Omer, after watching me -for some minutes, during which I had not made much impression on the -breakfast, for the black things destroyed my appetite, 'I have been -acquainted with you a long time, my young friend.' - -'Have you, sir?' - -'All your life,' said Mr. Omer. 'I may say before it. I knew your -father before you. He was five foot nine and a half, and he lays in -five-and-twen-ty foot of ground.' - -'RAT--tat-tat, RAT--tat-tat, RAT--tat-tat,' across the yard. - -'He lays in five and twen-ty foot of ground, if he lays in a fraction,' -said Mr. Omer, pleasantly. 'It was either his request or her direction, -I forget which.' - -'Do you know how my little brother is, sir?' I inquired. - -Mr. Omer shook his head. - -'RAT--tat-tat, RAT--tat-tat, RAT--tat-tat.' - -'He is in his mother's arms,' said he. - -'Oh, poor little fellow! Is he dead?' - -'Don't mind it more than you can help,' said Mr. Omer. 'Yes. The baby's -dead.' - -My wounds broke out afresh at this intelligence. I left the -scarcely-tasted breakfast, and went and rested my head on another table, -in a corner of the little room, which Minnie hastily cleared, lest I -should spot the mourning that was lying there with my tears. She was -a pretty, good-natured girl, and put my hair away from my eyes with a -soft, kind touch; but she was very cheerful at having nearly finished -her work and being in good time, and was so different from me! - -Presently the tune left off, and a good-looking young fellow came across -the yard into the room. He had a hammer in his hand, and his mouth was -full of little nails, which he was obliged to take out before he could -speak. - -'Well, Joram!' said Mr. Omer. 'How do you get on?' - -'All right,' said Joram. 'Done, sir.' - -Minnie coloured a little, and the other two girls smiled at one another. - -'What! you were at it by candle-light last night, when I was at the -club, then? Were you?' said Mr. Omer, shutting up one eye. - -'Yes,' said Joram. 'As you said we could make a little trip of it, and -go over together, if it was done, Minnie and me--and you.' - -'Oh! I thought you were going to leave me out altogether,' said Mr. -Omer, laughing till he coughed. - -'--As you was so good as to say that,' resumed the young man, 'why I -turned to with a will, you see. Will you give me your opinion of it?' - -'I will,' said Mr. Omer, rising. 'My dear'; and he stopped and turned to -me: 'would you like to see your--' - -'No, father,' Minnie interposed. - -'I thought it might be agreeable, my dear,' said Mr. Omer. 'But perhaps -you're right.' - -I can't say how I knew it was my dear, dear mother's coffin that they -went to look at. I had never heard one making; I had never seen one that -I know of.--but it came into my mind what the noise was, while it was -going on; and when the young man entered, I am sure I knew what he had -been doing. - -The work being now finished, the two girls, whose names I had not heard, -brushed the shreds and threads from their dresses, and went into the -shop to put that to rights, and wait for customers. Minnie stayed behind -to fold up what they had made, and pack it in two baskets. This she did -upon her knees, humming a lively little tune the while. Joram, who I had -no doubt was her lover, came in and stole a kiss from her while she was -busy (he didn't appear to mind me, at all), and said her father was gone -for the chaise, and he must make haste and get himself ready. Then he -went out again; and then she put her thimble and scissors in her pocket, -and stuck a needle threaded with black thread neatly in the bosom of her -gown, and put on her outer clothing smartly, at a little glass behind -the door, in which I saw the reflection of her pleased face. - -All this I observed, sitting at the table in the corner with my head -leaning on my hand, and my thoughts running on very different things. -The chaise soon came round to the front of the shop, and the baskets -being put in first, I was put in next, and those three followed. I -remember it as a kind of half chaise-cart, half pianoforte-van, painted -of a sombre colour, and drawn by a black horse with a long tail. There -was plenty of room for us all. - -I do not think I have ever experienced so strange a feeling in my life -(I am wiser now, perhaps) as that of being with them, remembering how -they had been employed, and seeing them enjoy the ride. I was not angry -with them; I was more afraid of them, as if I were cast away among -creatures with whom I had no community of nature. They were very -cheerful. The old man sat in front to drive, and the two young people -sat behind him, and whenever he spoke to them leaned forward, the one on -one side of his chubby face and the other on the other, and made a great -deal of him. They would have talked to me too, but I held back, and -moped in my corner; scared by their love-making and hilarity, though -it was far from boisterous, and almost wondering that no judgement came -upon them for their hardness of heart. - -So, when they stopped to bait the horse, and ate and drank and enjoyed -themselves, I could touch nothing that they touched, but kept my fast -unbroken. So, when we reached home, I dropped out of the chaise behind, -as quickly as possible, that I might not be in their company before -those solemn windows, looking blindly on me like closed eyes once -bright. And oh, how little need I had had to think what would move me to -tears when I came back--seeing the window of my mother's room, and next -it that which, in the better time, was mine! - -I was in Peggotty's arms before I got to the door, and she took me into -the house. Her grief burst out when she first saw me; but she controlled -it soon, and spoke in whispers, and walked softly, as if the dead could -be disturbed. She had not been in bed, I found, for a long time. She -sat up at night still, and watched. As long as her poor dear pretty was -above the ground, she said, she would never desert her. - -Mr. Murdstone took no heed of me when I went into the parlour where he -was, but sat by the fireside, weeping silently, and pondering in his -elbow-chair. Miss Murdstone, who was busy at her writing-desk, which -was covered with letters and papers, gave me her cold finger-nails, and -asked me, in an iron whisper, if I had been measured for my mourning. - -I said: 'Yes.' - -'And your shirts,' said Miss Murdstone; 'have you brought 'em home?' - -'Yes, ma'am. I have brought home all my clothes.' - -This was all the consolation that her firmness administered to me. I do -not doubt that she had a choice pleasure in exhibiting what she called -her self-command, and her firmness, and her strength of mind, and -her common sense, and the whole diabolical catalogue of her unamiable -qualities, on such an occasion. She was particularly proud of her turn -for business; and she showed it now in reducing everything to pen and -ink, and being moved by nothing. All the rest of that day, and from -morning to night afterwards, she sat at that desk, scratching composedly -with a hard pen, speaking in the same imperturbable whisper to -everybody; never relaxing a muscle of her face, or softening a tone of -her voice, or appearing with an atom of her dress astray. - -Her brother took a book sometimes, but never read it that I saw. He -would open it and look at it as if he were reading, but would remain for -a whole hour without turning the leaf, and then put it down and walk to -and fro in the room. I used to sit with folded hands watching him, and -counting his footsteps, hour after hour. He very seldom spoke to her, -and never to me. He seemed to be the only restless thing, except the -clocks, in the whole motionless house. - -In these days before the funeral, I saw but little of Peggotty, except -that, in passing up or down stairs, I always found her close to the room -where my mother and her baby lay, and except that she came to me every -night, and sat by my bed's head while I went to sleep. A day or -two before the burial--I think it was a day or two before, but I am -conscious of confusion in my mind about that heavy time, with nothing -to mark its progress--she took me into the room. I only recollect that -underneath some white covering on the bed, with a beautiful cleanliness -and freshness all around it, there seemed to me to lie embodied the -solemn stillness that was in the house; and that when she would have -turned the cover gently back, I cried: 'Oh no! oh no!' and held her -hand. - -If the funeral had been yesterday, I could not recollect it better. The -very air of the best parlour, when I went in at the door, the bright -condition of the fire, the shining of the wine in the decanters, the -patterns of the glasses and plates, the faint sweet smell of cake, the -odour of Miss Murdstone's dress, and our black clothes. Mr. Chillip is -in the room, and comes to speak to me. - -'And how is Master David?' he says, kindly. - -I cannot tell him very well. I give him my hand, which he holds in his. - -'Dear me!' says Mr. Chillip, meekly smiling, with something shining in -his eye. 'Our little friends grow up around us. They grow out of our -knowledge, ma'am?' This is to Miss Murdstone, who makes no reply. - -'There is a great improvement here, ma'am?' says Mr. Chillip. - -Miss Murdstone merely answers with a frown and a formal bend: Mr. -Chillip, discomfited, goes into a corner, keeping me with him, and opens -his mouth no more. - -I remark this, because I remark everything that happens, not because -I care about myself, or have done since I came home. And now the bell -begins to sound, and Mr. Omer and another come to make us ready. As -Peggotty was wont to tell me, long ago, the followers of my father to -the same grave were made ready in the same room. - -There are Mr. Murdstone, our neighbour Mr. Grayper, Mr. Chillip, and -I. When we go out to the door, the Bearers and their load are in the -garden; and they move before us down the path, and past the elms, and -through the gate, and into the churchyard, where I have so often heard -the birds sing on a summer morning. - -We stand around the grave. The day seems different to me from every -other day, and the light not of the same colour--of a sadder colour. -Now there is a solemn hush, which we have brought from home with what is -resting in the mould; and while we stand bareheaded, I hear the voice -of the clergyman, sounding remote in the open air, and yet distinct and -plain, saying: 'I am the Resurrection and the Life, saith the Lord!' -Then I hear sobs; and, standing apart among the lookers-on, I see that -good and faithful servant, whom of all the people upon earth I love the -best, and unto whom my childish heart is certain that the Lord will one -day say: 'Well done.' - -There are many faces that I know, among the little crowd; faces that I -knew in church, when mine was always wondering there; faces that first -saw my mother, when she came to the village in her youthful bloom. I do -not mind them--I mind nothing but my grief--and yet I see and know them -all; and even in the background, far away, see Minnie looking on, and -her eye glancing on her sweetheart, who is near me. - -It is over, and the earth is filled in, and we turn to come away. Before -us stands our house, so pretty and unchanged, so linked in my mind with -the young idea of what is gone, that all my sorrow has been nothing to -the sorrow it calls forth. But they take me on; and Mr. Chillip talks to -me; and when we get home, puts some water to my lips; and when I ask his -leave to go up to my room, dismisses me with the gentleness of a woman. - -All this, I say, is yesterday's event. Events of later date have floated -from me to the shore where all forgotten things will reappear, but this -stands like a high rock in the ocean. - -I knew that Peggotty would come to me in my room. The Sabbath stillness -of the time (the day was so like Sunday! I have forgotten that) was -suited to us both. She sat down by my side upon my little bed; and -holding my hand, and sometimes putting it to her lips, and sometimes -smoothing it with hers, as she might have comforted my little brother, -told me, in her way, all that she had to tell concerning what had -happened. - -'She was never well,' said Peggotty, 'for a long time. She was uncertain -in her mind, and not happy. When her baby was born, I thought at first -she would get better, but she was more delicate, and sunk a little every -day. She used to like to sit alone before her baby came, and then she -cried; but afterwards she used to sing to it--so soft, that I once -thought, when I heard her, it was like a voice up in the air, that was -rising away. - -'I think she got to be more timid, and more frightened-like, of late; -and that a hard word was like a blow to her. But she was always the same -to me. She never changed to her foolish Peggotty, didn't my sweet girl.' - -Here Peggotty stopped, and softly beat upon my hand a little while. - -'The last time that I saw her like her own old self, was the night when -you came home, my dear. The day you went away, she said to me, "I never -shall see my pretty darling again. Something tells me so, that tells the -truth, I know." - -'She tried to hold up after that; and many a time, when they told her -she was thoughtless and light-hearted, made believe to be so; but it was -all a bygone then. She never told her husband what she had told me--she -was afraid of saying it to anybody else--till one night, a little more -than a week before it happened, when she said to him: "My dear, I think -I am dying." - -'"It's off my mind now, Peggotty," she told me, when I laid her in her -bed that night. "He will believe it more and more, poor fellow, every -day for a few days to come; and then it will be past. I am very tired. -If this is sleep, sit by me while I sleep: don't leave me. God bless -both my children! God protect and keep my fatherless boy!" - -'I never left her afterwards,' said Peggotty. 'She often talked to them -two downstairs--for she loved them; she couldn't bear not to love anyone -who was about her--but when they went away from her bed-side, she always -turned to me, as if there was rest where Peggotty was, and never fell -asleep in any other way. - -'On the last night, in the evening, she kissed me, and said: "If my baby -should die too, Peggotty, please let them lay him in my arms, and bury -us together." (It was done; for the poor lamb lived but a day beyond -her.) "Let my dearest boy go with us to our resting-place," she said, -"and tell him that his mother, when she lay here, blessed him not once, -but a thousand times."' - -Another silence followed this, and another gentle beating on my hand. - -'It was pretty far in the night,' said Peggotty, 'when she asked me for -some drink; and when she had taken it, gave me such a patient smile, the -dear!--so beautiful! - -'Daybreak had come, and the sun was rising, when she said to me, how -kind and considerate Mr. Copperfield had always been to her, and how -he had borne with her, and told her, when she doubted herself, that -a loving heart was better and stronger than wisdom, and that he was a -happy man in hers. "Peggotty, my dear," she said then, "put me nearer to -you," for she was very weak. "Lay your good arm underneath my neck," she -said, "and turn me to you, for your face is going far off, and I want it -to be near." I put it as she asked; and oh Davy! the time had come when -my first parting words to you were true--when she was glad to lay her -poor head on her stupid cross old Peggotty's arm--and she died like a -child that had gone to sleep!' - - -Thus ended Peggotty's narration. From the moment of my knowing of the -death of my mother, the idea of her as she had been of late had vanished -from me. I remembered her, from that instant, only as the young mother -of my earliest impressions, who had been used to wind her bright curls -round and round her finger, and to dance with me at twilight in the -parlour. What Peggotty had told me now, was so far from bringing me back -to the later period, that it rooted the earlier image in my mind. It may -be curious, but it is true. In her death she winged her way back to her -calm untroubled youth, and cancelled all the rest. - -The mother who lay in the grave, was the mother of my infancy; the -little creature in her arms, was myself, as I had once been, hushed for -ever on her bosom. - - - -CHAPTER 10. I BECOME NEGLECTED, AND AM PROVIDED FOR - - -The first act of business Miss Murdstone performed when the day of the -solemnity was over, and light was freely admitted into the house, was -to give Peggotty a month's warning. Much as Peggotty would have disliked -such a service, I believe she would have retained it, for my sake, in -preference to the best upon earth. She told me we must part, and told me -why; and we condoled with one another, in all sincerity. - -As to me or my future, not a word was said, or a step taken. Happy -they would have been, I dare say, if they could have dismissed me at a -month's warning too. I mustered courage once, to ask Miss Murdstone when -I was going back to school; and she answered dryly, she believed I was -not going back at all. I was told nothing more. I was very anxious to -know what was going to be done with me, and so was Peggotty; but neither -she nor I could pick up any information on the subject. - -There was one change in my condition, which, while it relieved me of -a great deal of present uneasiness, might have made me, if I had been -capable of considering it closely, yet more uncomfortable about the -future. It was this. The constraint that had been put upon me, was quite -abandoned. I was so far from being required to keep my dull post in -the parlour, that on several occasions, when I took my seat there, Miss -Murdstone frowned to me to go away. I was so far from being warned off -from Peggotty's society, that, provided I was not in Mr. Murdstone's, I -was never sought out or inquired for. At first I was in daily dread of -his taking my education in hand again, or of Miss Murdstone's -devoting herself to it; but I soon began to think that such fears were -groundless, and that all I had to anticipate was neglect. - -I do not conceive that this discovery gave me much pain then. I was -still giddy with the shock of my mother's death, and in a kind of -stunned state as to all tributary things. I can recollect, indeed, to -have speculated, at odd times, on the possibility of my not being taught -any more, or cared for any more; and growing up to be a shabby, moody -man, lounging an idle life away, about the village; as well as on the -feasibility of my getting rid of this picture by going away somewhere, -like the hero in a story, to seek my fortune: but these were transient -visions, daydreams I sat looking at sometimes, as if they were faintly -painted or written on the wall of my room, and which, as they melted -away, left the wall blank again. - -'Peggotty,' I said in a thoughtful whisper, one evening, when I was -warming my hands at the kitchen fire, 'Mr. Murdstone likes me less than -he used to. He never liked me much, Peggotty; but he would rather not -even see me now, if he can help it.' - -'Perhaps it's his sorrow,' said Peggotty, stroking my hair. - -'I am sure, Peggotty, I am sorry too. If I believed it was his sorrow, -I should not think of it at all. But it's not that; oh, no, it's not -that.' - -'How do you know it's not that?' said Peggotty, after a silence. - -'Oh, his sorrow is another and quite a different thing. He is sorry at -this moment, sitting by the fireside with Miss Murdstone; but if I was -to go in, Peggotty, he would be something besides.' - -'What would he be?' said Peggotty. - -'Angry,' I answered, with an involuntary imitation of his dark frown. -'If he was only sorry, he wouldn't look at me as he does. I am only -sorry, and it makes me feel kinder.' - -Peggotty said nothing for a little while; and I warmed my hands, as -silent as she. - -'Davy,' she said at length. - -'Yes, Peggotty?' 'I have tried, my dear, all ways I could think of--all -the ways there are, and all the ways there ain't, in short--to get a -suitable service here, in Blunderstone; but there's no such a thing, my -love.' - -'And what do you mean to do, Peggotty,' says I, wistfully. 'Do you mean -to go and seek your fortune?' - -'I expect I shall be forced to go to Yarmouth,' replied Peggotty, 'and -live there.' - -'You might have gone farther off,' I said, brightening a little, 'and -been as bad as lost. I shall see you sometimes, my dear old Peggotty, -there. You won't be quite at the other end of the world, will you?' - -'Contrary ways, please God!' cried Peggotty, with great animation. 'As -long as you are here, my pet, I shall come over every week of my life to -see you. One day, every week of my life!' - -I felt a great weight taken off my mind by this promise: but even this -was not all, for Peggotty went on to say: - -'I'm a-going, Davy, you see, to my brother's, first, for another -fortnight's visit--just till I have had time to look about me, and -get to be something like myself again. Now, I have been thinking that -perhaps, as they don't want you here at present, you might be let to go -along with me.' - -If anything, short of being in a different relation to every one about -me, Peggotty excepted, could have given me a sense of pleasure at that -time, it would have been this project of all others. The idea of being -again surrounded by those honest faces, shining welcome on me; of -renewing the peacefulness of the sweet Sunday morning, when the bells -were ringing, the stones dropping in the water, and the shadowy ships -breaking through the mist; of roaming up and down with little Em'ly, -telling her my troubles, and finding charms against them in the shells -and pebbles on the beach; made a calm in my heart. It was ruffled next -moment, to be sure, by a doubt of Miss Murdstone's giving her consent; -but even that was set at rest soon, for she came out to take an evening -grope in the store-closet while we were yet in conversation, and -Peggotty, with a boldness that amazed me, broached the topic on the -spot. - -'The boy will be idle there,' said Miss Murdstone, looking into a -pickle-jar, 'and idleness is the root of all evil. But, to be sure, he -would be idle here--or anywhere, in my opinion.' - -Peggotty had an angry answer ready, I could see; but she swallowed it -for my sake, and remained silent. - -'Humph!' said Miss Murdstone, still keeping her eye on the pickles; -'it is of more importance than anything else--it is of paramount -importance--that my brother should not be disturbed or made -uncomfortable. I suppose I had better say yes.' - -I thanked her, without making any demonstration of joy, lest it should -induce her to withdraw her assent. Nor could I help thinking this a -prudent course, since she looked at me out of the pickle-jar, with -as great an access of sourness as if her black eyes had absorbed its -contents. However, the permission was given, and was never retracted; -for when the month was out, Peggotty and I were ready to depart. - -Mr. Barkis came into the house for Peggotty's boxes. I had never known -him to pass the garden-gate before, but on this occasion he came into -the house. And he gave me a look as he shouldered the largest box and -went out, which I thought had meaning in it, if meaning could ever be -said to find its way into Mr. Barkis's visage. - -Peggotty was naturally in low spirits at leaving what had been her home -so many years, and where the two strong attachments of her life--for -my mother and myself--had been formed. She had been walking in the -churchyard, too, very early; and she got into the cart, and sat in it -with her handkerchief at her eyes. - -So long as she remained in this condition, Mr. Barkis gave no sign -of life whatever. He sat in his usual place and attitude like a great -stuffed figure. But when she began to look about her, and to speak to -me, he nodded his head and grinned several times. I have not the least -notion at whom, or what he meant by it. - -'It's a beautiful day, Mr. Barkis!' I said, as an act of politeness. - -'It ain't bad,' said Mr. Barkis, who generally qualified his speech, and -rarely committed himself. - -'Peggotty is quite comfortable now, Mr. Barkis,' I remarked, for his -satisfaction. - -'Is she, though?' said Mr. Barkis. - -After reflecting about it, with a sagacious air, Mr. Barkis eyed her, -and said: - -'ARE you pretty comfortable?' - -Peggotty laughed, and answered in the affirmative. - -'But really and truly, you know. Are you?' growled Mr. Barkis, sliding -nearer to her on the seat, and nudging her with his elbow. 'Are you? -Really and truly pretty comfortable? Are you? Eh?' - -At each of these inquiries Mr. Barkis shuffled nearer to her, and gave -her another nudge; so that at last we were all crowded together in the -left-hand corner of the cart, and I was so squeezed that I could hardly -bear it. - -Peggotty calling his attention to my sufferings, Mr. Barkis gave me a -little more room at once, and got away by degrees. But I could not help -observing that he seemed to think he had hit upon a wonderful expedient -for expressing himself in a neat, agreeable, and pointed manner, without -the inconvenience of inventing conversation. He manifestly chuckled over -it for some time. By and by he turned to Peggotty again, and repeating, -'Are you pretty comfortable though?' bore down upon us as before, until -the breath was nearly edged out of my body. By and by he made another -descent upon us with the same inquiry, and the same result. At length, -I got up whenever I saw him coming, and standing on the foot-board, -pretended to look at the prospect; after which I did very well. - -He was so polite as to stop at a public-house, expressly on our account, -and entertain us with broiled mutton and beer. Even when Peggotty was -in the act of drinking, he was seized with one of those approaches, and -almost choked her. But as we drew nearer to the end of our journey, he -had more to do and less time for gallantry; and when we got on Yarmouth -pavement, we were all too much shaken and jolted, I apprehend, to have -any leisure for anything else. - -Mr. Peggotty and Ham waited for us at the old place. They received me -and Peggotty in an affectionate manner, and shook hands with Mr. Barkis, -who, with his hat on the very back of his head, and a shame-faced leer -upon his countenance, and pervading his very legs, presented but a -vacant appearance, I thought. They each took one of Peggotty's trunks, -and we were going away, when Mr. Barkis solemnly made a sign to me with -his forefinger to come under an archway. - -'I say,' growled Mr. Barkis, 'it was all right.' - -I looked up into his face, and answered, with an attempt to be very -profound: 'Oh!' - -'It didn't come to a end there,' said Mr. Barkis, nodding -confidentially. 'It was all right.' - -Again I answered, 'Oh!' - -'You know who was willin',' said my friend. 'It was Barkis, and Barkis -only.' - -I nodded assent. - -'It's all right,' said Mr. Barkis, shaking hands; 'I'm a friend of -your'n. You made it all right, first. It's all right.' - -In his attempts to be particularly lucid, Mr. Barkis was so extremely -mysterious, that I might have stood looking in his face for an hour, and -most assuredly should have got as much information out of it as out -of the face of a clock that had stopped, but for Peggotty's calling me -away. As we were going along, she asked me what he had said; and I told -her he had said it was all right. - -'Like his impudence,' said Peggotty, 'but I don't mind that! Davy dear, -what should you think if I was to think of being married?' - -'Why--I suppose you would like me as much then, Peggotty, as you do -now?' I returned, after a little consideration. - -Greatly to the astonishment of the passengers in the street, as well as -of her relations going on before, the good soul was obliged to stop and -embrace me on the spot, with many protestations of her unalterable love. - -'Tell me what should you say, darling?' she asked again, when this was -over, and we were walking on. - -'If you were thinking of being married--to Mr. Barkis, Peggotty?' - -'Yes,' said Peggotty. - -'I should think it would be a very good thing. For then you know, -Peggotty, you would always have the horse and cart to bring you over to -see me, and could come for nothing, and be sure of coming.' - -'The sense of the dear!' cried Peggotty. 'What I have been thinking -of, this month back! Yes, my precious; and I think I should be more -independent altogether, you see; let alone my working with a better -heart in my own house, than I could in anybody else's now. I don't know -what I might be fit for, now, as a servant to a stranger. And I shall be -always near my pretty's resting-place,' said Peggotty, musing, 'and be -able to see it when I like; and when I lie down to rest, I may be laid -not far off from my darling girl!' - -We neither of us said anything for a little while. - -'But I wouldn't so much as give it another thought,' said Peggotty, -cheerily 'if my Davy was anyways against it--not if I had been asked in -church thirty times three times over, and was wearing out the ring in my -pocket.' - -'Look at me, Peggotty,' I replied; 'and see if I am not really glad, and -don't truly wish it!' As indeed I did, with all my heart. - -'Well, my life,' said Peggotty, giving me a squeeze, 'I have thought of -it night and day, every way I can, and I hope the right way; but I'll -think of it again, and speak to my brother about it, and in the meantime -we'll keep it to ourselves, Davy, you and me. Barkis is a good plain -creature,' said Peggotty, 'and if I tried to do my duty by him, I think -it would be my fault if I wasn't--if I wasn't pretty comfortable,' -said Peggotty, laughing heartily. This quotation from Mr. Barkis was -so appropriate, and tickled us both so much, that we laughed again and -again, and were quite in a pleasant humour when we came within view of -Mr. Peggotty's cottage. - -It looked just the same, except that it may, perhaps, have shrunk a -little in my eyes; and Mrs. Gummidge was waiting at the door as if she -had stood there ever since. All within was the same, down to the seaweed -in the blue mug in my bedroom. I went into the out-house to look about -me; and the very same lobsters, crabs, and crawfish possessed by the -same desire to pinch the world in general, appeared to be in the same -state of conglomeration in the same old corner. - -But there was no little Em'ly to be seen, so I asked Mr. Peggotty where -she was. - -'She's at school, sir,' said Mr. Peggotty, wiping the heat consequent -on the porterage of Peggotty's box from his forehead; 'she'll be home,' -looking at the Dutch clock, 'in from twenty minutes to half-an-hour's -time. We all on us feel the loss of her, bless ye!' - -Mrs. Gummidge moaned. - -'Cheer up, Mawther!' cried Mr. Peggotty. - -'I feel it more than anybody else,' said Mrs. Gummidge; 'I'm a lone -lorn creetur', and she used to be a'most the only thing that didn't go -contrary with me.' - -Mrs. Gummidge, whimpering and shaking her head, applied herself to -blowing the fire. Mr. Peggotty, looking round upon us while she was so -engaged, said in a low voice, which he shaded with his hand: 'The old -'un!' From this I rightly conjectured that no improvement had taken -place since my last visit in the state of Mrs. Gummidge's spirits. - -Now, the whole place was, or it should have been, quite as delightful -a place as ever; and yet it did not impress me in the same way. I felt -rather disappointed with it. Perhaps it was because little Em'ly was -not at home. I knew the way by which she would come, and presently found -myself strolling along the path to meet her. - -A figure appeared in the distance before long, and I soon knew it to be -Em'ly, who was a little creature still in stature, though she was grown. -But when she drew nearer, and I saw her blue eyes looking bluer, and her -dimpled face looking brighter, and her whole self prettier and gayer, a -curious feeling came over me that made me pretend not to know her, and -pass by as if I were looking at something a long way off. I have done -such a thing since in later life, or I am mistaken. - -Little Em'ly didn't care a bit. She saw me well enough; but instead of -turning round and calling after me, ran away laughing. This obliged me -to run after her, and she ran so fast that we were very near the cottage -before I caught her. - -'Oh, it's you, is it?' said little Em'ly. - -'Why, you knew who it was, Em'ly,' said I. - -'And didn't YOU know who it was?' said Em'ly. I was going to kiss her, -but she covered her cherry lips with her hands, and said she wasn't a -baby now, and ran away, laughing more than ever, into the house. - -She seemed to delight in teasing me, which was a change in her I -wondered at very much. The tea table was ready, and our little locker -was put out in its old place, but instead of coming to sit by me, she -went and bestowed her company upon that grumbling Mrs. Gummidge: and on -Mr. Peggotty's inquiring why, rumpled her hair all over her face to hide -it, and could do nothing but laugh. - -'A little puss, it is!' said Mr. Peggotty, patting her with his great -hand. - -'So sh' is! so sh' is!' cried Ham. 'Mas'r Davy bor', so sh' is!' and he -sat and chuckled at her for some time, in a state of mingled admiration -and delight, that made his face a burning red. - -Little Em'ly was spoiled by them all, in fact; and by no one more than -Mr. Peggotty himself, whom she could have coaxed into anything, by -only going and laying her cheek against his rough whisker. That was my -opinion, at least, when I saw her do it; and I held Mr. Peggotty to be -thoroughly in the right. But she was so affectionate and sweet-natured, -and had such a pleasant manner of being both sly and shy at once, that -she captivated me more than ever. - -She was tender-hearted, too; for when, as we sat round the fire after -tea, an allusion was made by Mr. Peggotty over his pipe to the loss -I had sustained, the tears stood in her eyes, and she looked at me so -kindly across the table, that I felt quite thankful to her. - -'Ah!' said Mr. Peggotty, taking up her curls, and running them over his -hand like water, 'here's another orphan, you see, sir. And here,' said -Mr. Peggotty, giving Ham a backhanded knock in the chest, 'is another of -'em, though he don't look much like it.' - -'If I had you for my guardian, Mr. Peggotty,' said I, shaking my head, -'I don't think I should FEEL much like it.' - -'Well said, Mas'r Davy bor'!' cried Ham, in an ecstasy. 'Hoorah! Well -said! Nor more you wouldn't! Hor! Hor!'--Here he returned Mr. Peggotty's -back-hander, and little Em'ly got up and kissed Mr. Peggotty. 'And how's -your friend, sir?' said Mr. Peggotty to me. - -'Steerforth?' said I. - -'That's the name!' cried Mr. Peggotty, turning to Ham. 'I knowed it was -something in our way.' - -'You said it was Rudderford,' observed Ham, laughing. - -'Well!' retorted Mr. Peggotty. 'And ye steer with a rudder, don't ye? It -ain't fur off. How is he, sir?' - -'He was very well indeed when I came away, Mr. Peggotty.' - -'There's a friend!' said Mr. Peggotty, stretching out his pipe. 'There's -a friend, if you talk of friends! Why, Lord love my heart alive, if it -ain't a treat to look at him!' - -'He is very handsome, is he not?' said I, my heart warming with this -praise. - -'Handsome!' cried Mr. Peggotty. 'He stands up to you like--like a--why I -don't know what he don't stand up to you like. He's so bold!' - -'Yes! That's just his character,' said I. 'He's as brave as a lion, and -you can't think how frank he is, Mr. Peggotty.' - -'And I do suppose, now,' said Mr. Peggotty, looking at me through the -smoke of his pipe, 'that in the way of book-larning he'd take the wind -out of a'most anything.' - -'Yes,' said I, delighted; 'he knows everything. He is astonishingly -clever.' - -'There's a friend!' murmured Mr. Peggotty, with a grave toss of his -head. - -'Nothing seems to cost him any trouble,' said I. 'He knows a task if he -only looks at it. He is the best cricketer you ever saw. He will give -you almost as many men as you like at draughts, and beat you easily.' - -Mr. Peggotty gave his head another toss, as much as to say: 'Of course -he will.' - -'He is such a speaker,' I pursued, 'that he can win anybody over; and I -don't know what you'd say if you were to hear him sing, Mr. Peggotty.' - -Mr. Peggotty gave his head another toss, as much as to say: 'I have no -doubt of it.' - -'Then, he's such a generous, fine, noble fellow,' said I, quite carried -away by my favourite theme, 'that it's hardly possible to give him as -much praise as he deserves. I am sure I can never feel thankful enough -for the generosity with which he has protected me, so much younger and -lower in the school than himself.' - -I was running on, very fast indeed, when my eyes rested on little -Em'ly's face, which was bent forward over the table, listening with the -deepest attention, her breath held, her blue eyes sparkling like jewels, -and the colour mantling in her cheeks. She looked so extraordinarily -earnest and pretty, that I stopped in a sort of wonder; and they all -observed her at the same time, for as I stopped, they laughed and looked -at her. - -'Em'ly is like me,' said Peggotty, 'and would like to see him.' - -Em'ly was confused by our all observing her, and hung down her head, -and her face was covered with blushes. Glancing up presently through her -stray curls, and seeing that we were all looking at her still (I am sure -I, for one, could have looked at her for hours), she ran away, and kept -away till it was nearly bedtime. - -I lay down in the old little bed in the stern of the boat, and the wind -came moaning on across the flat as it had done before. But I could not -help fancying, now, that it moaned of those who were gone; and instead -of thinking that the sea might rise in the night and float the boat -away, I thought of the sea that had risen, since I last heard those -sounds, and drowned my happy home. I recollect, as the wind and water -began to sound fainter in my ears, putting a short clause into my -prayers, petitioning that I might grow up to marry little Em'ly, and so -dropping lovingly asleep. - -The days passed pretty much as they had passed before, except--it was -a great exception--that little Em'ly and I seldom wandered on the beach -now. She had tasks to learn, and needle-work to do; and was absent -during a great part of each day. But I felt that we should not have had -those old wanderings, even if it had been otherwise. Wild and full of -childish whims as Em'ly was, she was more of a little woman than I -had supposed. She seemed to have got a great distance away from me, -in little more than a year. She liked me, but she laughed at me, and -tormented me; and when I went to meet her, stole home another way, and -was laughing at the door when I came back, disappointed. The best times -were when she sat quietly at work in the doorway, and I sat on the -wooden step at her feet, reading to her. It seems to me, at this -hour, that I have never seen such sunlight as on those bright April -afternoons; that I have never seen such a sunny little figure as I used -to see, sitting in the doorway of the old boat; that I have never beheld -such sky, such water, such glorified ships sailing away into golden air. - -On the very first evening after our arrival, Mr. Barkis appeared in an -exceedingly vacant and awkward condition, and with a bundle of oranges -tied up in a handkerchief. As he made no allusion of any kind to this -property, he was supposed to have left it behind him by accident when -he went away; until Ham, running after him to restore it, came back with -the information that it was intended for Peggotty. After that occasion -he appeared every evening at exactly the same hour, and always with a -little bundle, to which he never alluded, and which he regularly put -behind the door and left there. These offerings of affection were of a -most various and eccentric description. Among them I remember a double -set of pigs' trotters, a huge pin-cushion, half a bushel or so of -apples, a pair of jet earrings, some Spanish onions, a box of dominoes, -a canary bird and cage, and a leg of pickled pork. - -Mr. Barkis's wooing, as I remember it, was altogether of a peculiar -kind. He very seldom said anything; but would sit by the fire in much -the same attitude as he sat in his cart, and stare heavily at Peggotty, -who was opposite. One night, being, as I suppose, inspired by love, he -made a dart at the bit of wax-candle she kept for her thread, and put -it in his waistcoat-pocket and carried it off. After that, his great -delight was to produce it when it was wanted, sticking to the lining of -his pocket, in a partially melted state, and pocket it again when it was -done with. He seemed to enjoy himself very much, and not to feel at all -called upon to talk. Even when he took Peggotty out for a walk on the -flats, he had no uneasiness on that head, I believe; contenting himself -with now and then asking her if she was pretty comfortable; and I -remember that sometimes, after he was gone, Peggotty would throw her -apron over her face, and laugh for half-an-hour. Indeed, we were -all more or less amused, except that miserable Mrs. Gummidge, whose -courtship would appear to have been of an exactly parallel nature, she -was so continually reminded by these transactions of the old one. - -At length, when the term of my visit was nearly expired, it was given -out that Peggotty and Mr. Barkis were going to make a day's holiday -together, and that little Em'ly and I were to accompany them. I had but -a broken sleep the night before, in anticipation of the pleasure of -a whole day with Em'ly. We were all astir betimes in the morning; and -while we were yet at breakfast, Mr. Barkis appeared in the distance, -driving a chaise-cart towards the object of his affections. - -Peggotty was dressed as usual, in her neat and quiet mourning; but Mr. -Barkis bloomed in a new blue coat, of which the tailor had given him -such good measure, that the cuffs would have rendered gloves unnecessary -in the coldest weather, while the collar was so high that it pushed his -hair up on end on the top of his head. His bright buttons, too, were -of the largest size. Rendered complete by drab pantaloons and a buff -waistcoat, I thought Mr. Barkis a phenomenon of respectability. - -When we were all in a bustle outside the door, I found that Mr. Peggotty -was prepared with an old shoe, which was to be thrown after us for luck, -and which he offered to Mrs. Gummidge for that purpose. - -'No. It had better be done by somebody else, Dan'l,' said Mrs. Gummidge. -'I'm a lone lorn creetur' myself, and everythink that reminds me of -creetur's that ain't lone and lorn, goes contrary with me.' - -'Come, old gal!' cried Mr. Peggotty. 'Take and heave it.' - -'No, Dan'l,' returned Mrs. Gummidge, whimpering and shaking her head. -'If I felt less, I could do more. You don't feel like me, Dan'l; thinks -don't go contrary with you, nor you with them; you had better do it -yourself.' - -But here Peggotty, who had been going about from one to another in a -hurried way, kissing everybody, called out from the cart, in which we -all were by this time (Em'ly and I on two little chairs, side by side), -that Mrs. Gummidge must do it. So Mrs. Gummidge did it; and, I am sorry -to relate, cast a damp upon the festive character of our departure, by -immediately bursting into tears, and sinking subdued into the arms of -Ham, with the declaration that she knowed she was a burden, and had -better be carried to the House at once. Which I really thought was a -sensible idea, that Ham might have acted on. - -Away we went, however, on our holiday excursion; and the first thing -we did was to stop at a church, where Mr. Barkis tied the horse to some -rails, and went in with Peggotty, leaving little Em'ly and me alone in -the chaise. I took that occasion to put my arm round Em'ly's waist, and -propose that as I was going away so very soon now, we should determine -to be very affectionate to one another, and very happy, all day. Little -Em'ly consenting, and allowing me to kiss her, I became desperate; -informing her, I recollect, that I never could love another, and that -I was prepared to shed the blood of anybody who should aspire to her -affections. - -How merry little Em'ly made herself about it! With what a demure -assumption of being immensely older and wiser than I, the fairy little -woman said I was 'a silly boy'; and then laughed so charmingly that -I forgot the pain of being called by that disparaging name, in the -pleasure of looking at her. - -Mr. Barkis and Peggotty were a good while in the church, but came out at -last, and then we drove away into the country. As we were going along, -Mr. Barkis turned to me, and said, with a wink,--by the by, I should -hardly have thought, before, that he could wink: - -'What name was it as I wrote up in the cart?' - -'Clara Peggotty,' I answered. - -'What name would it be as I should write up now, if there was a tilt -here?' - -'Clara Peggotty, again?' I suggested. - -'Clara Peggotty BARKIS!' he returned, and burst into a roar of laughter -that shook the chaise. - -In a word, they were married, and had gone into the church for no other -purpose. Peggotty was resolved that it should be quietly done; and -the clerk had given her away, and there had been no witnesses of the -ceremony. She was a little confused when Mr. Barkis made this abrupt -announcement of their union, and could not hug me enough in token of her -unimpaired affection; but she soon became herself again, and said she -was very glad it was over. - -We drove to a little inn in a by-road, where we were expected, and -where we had a very comfortable dinner, and passed the day with great -satisfaction. If Peggotty had been married every day for the last ten -years, she could hardly have been more at her ease about it; it made no -sort of difference in her: she was just the same as ever, and went -out for a stroll with little Em'ly and me before tea, while Mr. Barkis -philosophically smoked his pipe, and enjoyed himself, I suppose, with -the contemplation of his happiness. If so, it sharpened his appetite; -for I distinctly call to mind that, although he had eaten a good deal of -pork and greens at dinner, and had finished off with a fowl or two, he -was obliged to have cold boiled bacon for tea, and disposed of a large -quantity without any emotion. - -I have often thought, since, what an odd, innocent, out-of-the-way kind -of wedding it must have been! We got into the chaise again soon after -dark, and drove cosily back, looking up at the stars, and talking about -them. I was their chief exponent, and opened Mr. Barkis's mind to -an amazing extent. I told him all I knew, but he would have believed -anything I might have taken it into my head to impart to him; for he -had a profound veneration for my abilities, and informed his wife in my -hearing, on that very occasion, that I was 'a young Roeshus'--by which I -think he meant prodigy. - -When we had exhausted the subject of the stars, or rather when I had -exhausted the mental faculties of Mr. Barkis, little Em'ly and I made a -cloak of an old wrapper, and sat under it for the rest of the journey. -Ah, how I loved her! What happiness (I thought) if we were married, -and were going away anywhere to live among the trees and in the fields, -never growing older, never growing wiser, children ever, rambling hand -in hand through sunshine and among flowery meadows, laying down our -heads on moss at night, in a sweet sleep of purity and peace, and buried -by the birds when we were dead! Some such picture, with no real world in -it, bright with the light of our innocence, and vague as the stars afar -off, was in my mind all the way. I am glad to think there were two such -guileless hearts at Peggotty's marriage as little Em'ly's and mine. I -am glad to think the Loves and Graces took such airy forms in its homely -procession. - -Well, we came to the old boat again in good time at night; and there -Mr. and Mrs. Barkis bade us good-bye, and drove away snugly to their -own home. I felt then, for the first time, that I had lost Peggotty. I -should have gone to bed with a sore heart indeed under any other roof -but that which sheltered little Em'ly's head. - -Mr. Peggotty and Ham knew what was in my thoughts as well as I did, and -were ready with some supper and their hospitable faces to drive it away. -Little Em'ly came and sat beside me on the locker for the only time in -all that visit; and it was altogether a wonderful close to a wonderful -day. - -It was a night tide; and soon after we went to bed, Mr. Peggotty and Ham -went out to fish. I felt very brave at being left alone in the solitary -house, the protector of Em'ly and Mrs. Gummidge, and only wished that -a lion or a serpent, or any ill-disposed monster, would make an attack -upon us, that I might destroy him, and cover myself with glory. But as -nothing of the sort happened to be walking about on Yarmouth flats that -night, I provided the best substitute I could by dreaming of dragons -until morning. - -With morning came Peggotty; who called to me, as usual, under my window -as if Mr. Barkis the carrier had been from first to last a dream too. -After breakfast she took me to her own home, and a beautiful little -home it was. Of all the moveables in it, I must have been impressed by -a certain old bureau of some dark wood in the parlour (the tile-floored -kitchen was the general sitting-room), with a retreating top which -opened, let down, and became a desk, within which was a large quarto -edition of Foxe's Book of Martyrs. This precious volume, of which I do -not recollect one word, I immediately discovered and immediately applied -myself to; and I never visited the house afterwards, but I kneeled on -a chair, opened the casket where this gem was enshrined, spread my arms -over the desk, and fell to devouring the book afresh. I was chiefly -edified, I am afraid, by the pictures, which were numerous, and -represented all kinds of dismal horrors; but the Martyrs and Peggotty's -house have been inseparable in my mind ever since, and are now. - -I took leave of Mr. Peggotty, and Ham, and Mrs. Gummidge, and little -Em'ly, that day; and passed the night at Peggotty's, in a little room -in the roof (with the Crocodile Book on a shelf by the bed's head) which -was to be always mine, Peggotty said, and should always be kept for me -in exactly the same state. - -'Young or old, Davy dear, as long as I am alive and have this house over -my head,' said Peggotty, 'you shall find it as if I expected you here -directly minute. I shall keep it every day, as I used to keep your old -little room, my darling; and if you was to go to China, you might think -of it as being kept just the same, all the time you were away.' - -I felt the truth and constancy of my dear old nurse, with all my heart, -and thanked her as well as I could. That was not very well, for she -spoke to me thus, with her arms round my neck, in the morning, and I was -going home in the morning, and I went home in the morning, with herself -and Mr. Barkis in the cart. They left me at the gate, not easily or -lightly; and it was a strange sight to me to see the cart go on, taking -Peggotty away, and leaving me under the old elm-trees looking at the -house, in which there was no face to look on mine with love or liking -any more. - -And now I fell into a state of neglect, which I cannot look back upon -without compassion. I fell at once into a solitary condition,--apart -from all friendly notice, apart from the society of all other boys of -my own age, apart from all companionship but my own spiritless -thoughts,--which seems to cast its gloom upon this paper as I write. - -What would I have given, to have been sent to the hardest school that -ever was kept!--to have been taught something, anyhow, anywhere! No -such hope dawned upon me. They disliked me; and they sullenly, sternly, -steadily, overlooked me. I think Mr. Murdstone's means were straitened -at about this time; but it is little to the purpose. He could not bear -me; and in putting me from him he tried, as I believe, to put away the -notion that I had any claim upon him--and succeeded. - -I was not actively ill-used. I was not beaten, or starved; but the wrong -that was done to me had no intervals of relenting, and was done in a -systematic, passionless manner. Day after day, week after week, month -after month, I was coldly neglected. I wonder sometimes, when I think -of it, what they would have done if I had been taken with an illness; -whether I should have lain down in my lonely room, and languished -through it in my usual solitary way, or whether anybody would have -helped me out. - -When Mr. and Miss Murdstone were at home, I took my meals with them; in -their absence, I ate and drank by myself. At all times I lounged about -the house and neighbourhood quite disregarded, except that they were -jealous of my making any friends: thinking, perhaps, that if I did, I -might complain to someone. For this reason, though Mr. Chillip often -asked me to go and see him (he was a widower, having, some years before -that, lost a little small light-haired wife, whom I can just remember -connecting in my own thoughts with a pale tortoise-shell cat), it was -but seldom that I enjoyed the happiness of passing an afternoon in his -closet of a surgery; reading some book that was new to me, with -the smell of the whole Pharmacopoeia coming up my nose, or pounding -something in a mortar under his mild directions. - -For the same reason, added no doubt to the old dislike of her, I was -seldom allowed to visit Peggotty. Faithful to her promise, she either -came to see me, or met me somewhere near, once every week, and never -empty-handed; but many and bitter were the disappointments I had, in -being refused permission to pay a visit to her at her house. Some few -times, however, at long intervals, I was allowed to go there; and then -I found out that Mr. Barkis was something of a miser, or as Peggotty -dutifully expressed it, was 'a little near', and kept a heap of money -in a box under his bed, which he pretended was only full of coats -and trousers. In this coffer, his riches hid themselves with such a -tenacious modesty, that the smallest instalments could only be tempted -out by artifice; so that Peggotty had to prepare a long and elaborate -scheme, a very Gunpowder Plot, for every Saturday's expenses. - -All this time I was so conscious of the waste of any promise I had -given, and of my being utterly neglected, that I should have been -perfectly miserable, I have no doubt, but for the old books. They were -my only comfort; and I was as true to them as they were to me, and read -them over and over I don't know how many times more. - -I now approach a period of my life, which I can never lose the -remembrance of, while I remember anything: and the recollection of -which has often, without my invocation, come before me like a ghost, and -haunted happier times. - -I had been out, one day, loitering somewhere, in the listless, -meditative manner that my way of life engendered, when, turning the -corner of a lane near our house, I came upon Mr. Murdstone walking with -a gentleman. I was confused, and was going by them, when the gentleman -cried: - -'What! Brooks!' - -'No, sir, David Copperfield,' I said. - -'Don't tell me. You are Brooks,' said the gentleman. 'You are Brooks of -Sheffield. That's your name.' - -At these words, I observed the gentleman more attentively. His laugh -coming to my remembrance too, I knew him to be Mr. Quinion, whom I -had gone over to Lowestoft with Mr. Murdstone to see, before--it is no -matter--I need not recall when. - -'And how do you get on, and where are you being educated, Brooks?' said -Mr. Quinion. - -He had put his hand upon my shoulder, and turned me about, to walk -with them. I did not know what to reply, and glanced dubiously at Mr. -Murdstone. - -'He is at home at present,' said the latter. 'He is not being educated -anywhere. I don't know what to do with him. He is a difficult subject.' - -That old, double look was on me for a moment; and then his eyes darkened -with a frown, as it turned, in its aversion, elsewhere. - -'Humph!' said Mr. Quinion, looking at us both, I thought. 'Fine -weather!' - -Silence ensued, and I was considering how I could best disengage my -shoulder from his hand, and go away, when he said: - -'I suppose you are a pretty sharp fellow still? Eh, Brooks?' - -'Aye! He is sharp enough,' said Mr. Murdstone, impatiently. 'You had -better let him go. He will not thank you for troubling him.' - -On this hint, Mr. Quinion released me, and I made the best of my -way home. Looking back as I turned into the front garden, I saw Mr. -Murdstone leaning against the wicket of the churchyard, and Mr. Quinion -talking to him. They were both looking after me, and I felt that they -were speaking of me. - -Mr. Quinion lay at our house that night. After breakfast, the next -morning, I had put my chair away, and was going out of the room, when -Mr. Murdstone called me back. He then gravely repaired to another table, -where his sister sat herself at her desk. Mr. Quinion, with his hands -in his pockets, stood looking out of window; and I stood looking at them -all. - -'David,' said Mr. Murdstone, 'to the young this is a world for action; -not for moping and droning in.' --'As you do,' added his sister. - -'Jane Murdstone, leave it to me, if you please. I say, David, to the -young this is a world for action, and not for moping and droning in. It -is especially so for a young boy of your disposition, which requires a -great deal of correcting; and to which no greater service can be done -than to force it to conform to the ways of the working world, and to -bend it and break it.' - -'For stubbornness won't do here,' said his sister 'What it wants is, to -be crushed. And crushed it must be. Shall be, too!' - -He gave her a look, half in remonstrance, half in approval, and went on: - -'I suppose you know, David, that I am not rich. At any rate, you know it -now. You have received some considerable education already. Education is -costly; and even if it were not, and I could afford it, I am of opinion -that it would not be at all advantageous to you to be kept at school. -What is before you, is a fight with the world; and the sooner you begin -it, the better.' - -I think it occurred to me that I had already begun it, in my poor way: -but it occurs to me now, whether or no. - -'You have heard the "counting-house" mentioned sometimes,' said Mr. -Murdstone. - -'The counting-house, sir?' I repeated. 'Of Murdstone and Grinby, in the -wine trade,' he replied. - -I suppose I looked uncertain, for he went on hastily: - -'You have heard the "counting-house" mentioned, or the business, or the -cellars, or the wharf, or something about it.' - -'I think I have heard the business mentioned, sir,' I said, remembering -what I vaguely knew of his and his sister's resources. 'But I don't know -when.' - -'It does not matter when,' he returned. 'Mr. Quinion manages that -business.' - -I glanced at the latter deferentially as he stood looking out of window. - -'Mr. Quinion suggests that it gives employment to some other boys, -and that he sees no reason why it shouldn't, on the same terms, give -employment to you.' - -'He having,' Mr. Quinion observed in a low voice, and half turning -round, 'no other prospect, Murdstone.' - -Mr. Murdstone, with an impatient, even an angry gesture, resumed, -without noticing what he had said: - -'Those terms are, that you will earn enough for yourself to provide for -your eating and drinking, and pocket-money. Your lodging (which I have -arranged for) will be paid by me. So will your washing--' - -'--Which will be kept down to my estimate,' said his sister. - -'Your clothes will be looked after for you, too,' said Mr. Murdstone; -'as you will not be able, yet awhile, to get them for yourself. So you -are now going to London, David, with Mr. Quinion, to begin the world on -your own account.' - -'In short, you are provided for,' observed his sister; 'and will please -to do your duty.' - -Though I quite understood that the purpose of this announcement was -to get rid of me, I have no distinct remembrance whether it pleased -or frightened me. My impression is, that I was in a state of confusion -about it, and, oscillating between the two points, touched neither. Nor -had I much time for the clearing of my thoughts, as Mr. Quinion was to -go upon the morrow. - -Behold me, on the morrow, in a much-worn little white hat, with a black -crape round it for my mother, a black jacket, and a pair of hard, stiff -corduroy trousers--which Miss Murdstone considered the best armour for -the legs in that fight with the world which was now to come off. Behold -me so attired, and with my little worldly all before me in a small -trunk, sitting, a lone lorn child (as Mrs. Gummidge might have said), -in the post-chaise that was carrying Mr. Quinion to the London coach at -Yarmouth! See, how our house and church are lessening in the distance; -how the grave beneath the tree is blotted out by intervening objects; -how the spire points upwards from my old playground no more, and the sky -is empty! - - - -CHAPTER 11. I BEGIN LIFE ON MY OWN ACCOUNT, AND DON'T LIKE IT - - -I know enough of the world now, to have almost lost the capacity of -being much surprised by anything; but it is matter of some surprise to -me, even now, that I can have been so easily thrown away at such an age. -A child of excellent abilities, and with strong powers of observation, -quick, eager, delicate, and soon hurt bodily or mentally, it seems -wonderful to me that nobody should have made any sign in my behalf. But -none was made; and I became, at ten years old, a little labouring hind -in the service of Murdstone and Grinby. - -Murdstone and Grinby's warehouse was at the waterside. It was down in -Blackfriars. Modern improvements have altered the place; but it was the -last house at the bottom of a narrow street, curving down hill to the -river, with some stairs at the end, where people took boat. It was a -crazy old house with a wharf of its own, abutting on the water when the -tide was in, and on the mud when the tide was out, and literally overrun -with rats. Its panelled rooms, discoloured with the dirt and smoke of -a hundred years, I dare say; its decaying floors and staircase; the -squeaking and scuffling of the old grey rats down in the cellars; and -the dirt and rottenness of the place; are things, not of many years ago, -in my mind, but of the present instant. They are all before me, just as -they were in the evil hour when I went among them for the first time, -with my trembling hand in Mr. Quinion's. - -Murdstone and Grinby's trade was among a good many kinds of people, but -an important branch of it was the supply of wines and spirits to certain -packet ships. I forget now where they chiefly went, but I think there -were some among them that made voyages both to the East and West Indies. -I know that a great many empty bottles were one of the consequences of -this traffic, and that certain men and boys were employed to examine -them against the light, and reject those that were flawed, and to rinse -and wash them. When the empty bottles ran short, there were labels to be -pasted on full ones, or corks to be fitted to them, or seals to be put -upon the corks, or finished bottles to be packed in casks. All this work -was my work, and of the boys employed upon it I was one. - -There were three or four of us, counting me. My working place was -established in a corner of the warehouse, where Mr. Quinion could see -me, when he chose to stand up on the bottom rail of his stool in the -counting-house, and look at me through a window above the desk. Hither, -on the first morning of my so auspiciously beginning life on my own -account, the oldest of the regular boys was summoned to show me my -business. His name was Mick Walker, and he wore a ragged apron and a -paper cap. He informed me that his father was a bargeman, and walked, in -a black velvet head-dress, in the Lord Mayor's Show. He also informed me -that our principal associate would be another boy whom he introduced by -the--to me--extraordinary name of Mealy Potatoes. I discovered, however, -that this youth had not been christened by that name, but that it had -been bestowed upon him in the warehouse, on account of his complexion, -which was pale or mealy. Mealy's father was a waterman, who had the -additional distinction of being a fireman, and was engaged as such at -one of the large theatres; where some young relation of Mealy's--I think -his little sister--did Imps in the Pantomimes. - -No words can express the secret agony of my soul as I sunk into this -companionship; compared these henceforth everyday associates with those -of my happier childhood--not to say with Steerforth, Traddles, and the -rest of those boys; and felt my hopes of growing up to be a learned -and distinguished man, crushed in my bosom. The deep remembrance of the -sense I had, of being utterly without hope now; of the shame I felt in -my position; of the misery it was to my young heart to believe that day -by day what I had learned, and thought, and delighted in, and raised my -fancy and my emulation up by, would pass away from me, little by little, -never to be brought back any more; cannot be written. As often as Mick -Walker went away in the course of that forenoon, I mingled my tears with -the water in which I was washing the bottles; and sobbed as if there -were a flaw in my own breast, and it were in danger of bursting. - -The counting-house clock was at half past twelve, and there was -general preparation for going to dinner, when Mr. Quinion tapped at the -counting-house window, and beckoned to me to go in. I went in, and -found there a stoutish, middle-aged person, in a brown surtout and black -tights and shoes, with no more hair upon his head (which was a large -one, and very shining) than there is upon an egg, and with a very -extensive face, which he turned full upon me. His clothes were shabby, -but he had an imposing shirt-collar on. He carried a jaunty sort of a -stick, with a large pair of rusty tassels to it; and a quizzing-glass -hung outside his coat,--for ornament, I afterwards found, as he very -seldom looked through it, and couldn't see anything when he did. - -'This,' said Mr. Quinion, in allusion to myself, 'is he.' - -'This,' said the stranger, with a certain condescending roll in his -voice, and a certain indescribable air of doing something genteel, which -impressed me very much, 'is Master Copperfield. I hope I see you well, -sir?' - -I said I was very well, and hoped he was. I was sufficiently ill at -ease, Heaven knows; but it was not in my nature to complain much at that -time of my life, so I said I was very well, and hoped he was. - -'I am,' said the stranger, 'thank Heaven, quite well. I have received a -letter from Mr. Murdstone, in which he mentions that he would desire -me to receive into an apartment in the rear of my house, which is at -present unoccupied--and is, in short, to be let as a--in short,' -said the stranger, with a smile and in a burst of confidence, 'as a -bedroom--the young beginner whom I have now the pleasure to--' and the -stranger waved his hand, and settled his chin in his shirt-collar. - -'This is Mr. Micawber,' said Mr. Quinion to me. - -'Ahem!' said the stranger, 'that is my name.' - -'Mr. Micawber,' said Mr. Quinion, 'is known to Mr. Murdstone. He takes -orders for us on commission, when he can get any. He has been written to -by Mr. Murdstone, on the subject of your lodgings, and he will receive -you as a lodger.' - -'My address,' said Mr. Micawber, 'is Windsor Terrace, City Road. I--in -short,' said Mr. Micawber, with the same genteel air, and in another -burst of confidence--'I live there.' - -I made him a bow. - -'Under the impression,' said Mr. Micawber, 'that your peregrinations in -this metropolis have not as yet been extensive, and that you might have -some difficulty in penetrating the arcana of the Modern Babylon in the -direction of the City Road,--in short,' said Mr. Micawber, in another -burst of confidence, 'that you might lose yourself--I shall be happy to -call this evening, and install you in the knowledge of the nearest way.' - -I thanked him with all my heart, for it was friendly in him to offer to -take that trouble. - -'At what hour,' said Mr. Micawber, 'shall I--' - -'At about eight,' said Mr. Quinion. - -'At about eight,' said Mr. Micawber. 'I beg to wish you good day, Mr. -Quinion. I will intrude no longer.' - -So he put on his hat, and went out with his cane under his arm: very -upright, and humming a tune when he was clear of the counting-house. - -Mr. Quinion then formally engaged me to be as useful as I could in -the warehouse of Murdstone and Grinby, at a salary, I think, of six -shillings a week. I am not clear whether it was six or seven. I am -inclined to believe, from my uncertainty on this head, that it was six -at first and seven afterwards. He paid me a week down (from his own -pocket, I believe), and I gave Mealy sixpence out of it to get my -trunk carried to Windsor Terrace that night: it being too heavy for my -strength, small as it was. I paid sixpence more for my dinner, which was -a meat pie and a turn at a neighbouring pump; and passed the hour which -was allowed for that meal, in walking about the streets. - -At the appointed time in the evening, Mr. Micawber reappeared. I washed -my hands and face, to do the greater honour to his gentility, and we -walked to our house, as I suppose I must now call it, together; Mr. -Micawber impressing the name of streets, and the shapes of corner houses -upon me, as we went along, that I might find my way back, easily, in the -morning. - -Arrived at this house in Windsor Terrace (which I noticed was shabby -like himself, but also, like himself, made all the show it could), he -presented me to Mrs. Micawber, a thin and faded lady, not at all -young, who was sitting in the parlour (the first floor was altogether -unfurnished, and the blinds were kept down to delude the neighbours), -with a baby at her breast. This baby was one of twins; and I may remark -here that I hardly ever, in all my experience of the family, saw both -the twins detached from Mrs. Micawber at the same time. One of them was -always taking refreshment. - -There were two other children; Master Micawber, aged about four, and -Miss Micawber, aged about three. These, and a dark-complexioned young -woman, with a habit of snorting, who was servant to the family, and -informed me, before half an hour had expired, that she was 'a Orfling', -and came from St. Luke's workhouse, in the neighbourhood, completed the -establishment. My room was at the top of the house, at the back: a close -chamber; stencilled all over with an ornament which my young imagination -represented as a blue muffin; and very scantily furnished. - -'I never thought,' said Mrs. Micawber, when she came up, twin and all, -to show me the apartment, and sat down to take breath, 'before I was -married, when I lived with papa and mama, that I should ever find it -necessary to take a lodger. But Mr. Micawber being in difficulties, all -considerations of private feeling must give way.' - -I said: 'Yes, ma'am.' - -'Mr. Micawber's difficulties are almost overwhelming just at present,' -said Mrs. Micawber; 'and whether it is possible to bring him through -them, I don't know. When I lived at home with papa and mama, I really -should have hardly understood what the word meant, in the sense in which -I now employ it, but experientia does it,--as papa used to say.' - -I cannot satisfy myself whether she told me that Mr. Micawber had been -an officer in the Marines, or whether I have imagined it. I only know -that I believe to this hour that he WAS in the Marines once upon a time, -without knowing why. He was a sort of town traveller for a number -of miscellaneous houses, now; but made little or nothing of it, I am -afraid. - -'If Mr. Micawber's creditors will not give him time,' said Mrs. -Micawber, 'they must take the consequences; and the sooner they bring it -to an issue the better. Blood cannot be obtained from a stone, neither -can anything on account be obtained at present (not to mention law -expenses) from Mr. Micawber.' - -I never can quite understand whether my precocious self-dependence -confused Mrs. Micawber in reference to my age, or whether she was so -full of the subject that she would have talked about it to the very -twins if there had been nobody else to communicate with, but this was -the strain in which she began, and she went on accordingly all the time -I knew her. - -Poor Mrs. Micawber! She said she had tried to exert herself, and so, -I have no doubt, she had. The centre of the street door was perfectly -covered with a great brass-plate, on which was engraved 'Mrs. Micawber's -Boarding Establishment for Young Ladies': but I never found that any -young lady had ever been to school there; or that any young lady ever -came, or proposed to come; or that the least preparation was ever made -to receive any young lady. The only visitors I ever saw, or heard of, -were creditors. THEY used to come at all hours, and some of them were -quite ferocious. One dirty-faced man, I think he was a boot-maker, -used to edge himself into the passage as early as seven o'clock in the -morning, and call up the stairs to Mr. Micawber--'Come! You ain't out -yet, you know. Pay us, will you? Don't hide, you know; that's mean. I -wouldn't be mean if I was you. Pay us, will you? You just pay us, d'ye -hear? Come!' Receiving no answer to these taunts, he would mount in -his wrath to the words 'swindlers' and 'robbers'; and these being -ineffectual too, would sometimes go to the extremity of crossing the -street, and roaring up at the windows of the second floor, where he knew -Mr. Micawber was. At these times, Mr. Micawber would be transported with -grief and mortification, even to the length (as I was once made aware by -a scream from his wife) of making motions at himself with a razor; -but within half-an-hour afterwards, he would polish up his shoes with -extraordinary pains, and go out, humming a tune with a greater air of -gentility than ever. Mrs. Micawber was quite as elastic. I have known -her to be thrown into fainting fits by the king's taxes at three -o'clock, and to eat lamb chops, breaded, and drink warm ale (paid for -with two tea-spoons that had gone to the pawnbroker's) at four. On one -occasion, when an execution had just been put in, coming home through -some chance as early as six o'clock, I saw her lying (of course with a -twin) under the grate in a swoon, with her hair all torn about her face; -but I never knew her more cheerful than she was, that very same night, -over a veal cutlet before the kitchen fire, telling me stories about her -papa and mama, and the company they used to keep. - -In this house, and with this family, I passed my leisure time. My own -exclusive breakfast of a penny loaf and a pennyworth of milk, I provided -myself. I kept another small loaf, and a modicum of cheese, on a -particular shelf of a particular cupboard, to make my supper on when I -came back at night. This made a hole in the six or seven shillings, I -know well; and I was out at the warehouse all day, and had to support -myself on that money all the week. From Monday morning until Saturday -night, I had no advice, no counsel, no encouragement, no consolation, -no assistance, no support, of any kind, from anyone, that I can call to -mind, as I hope to go to heaven! - -I was so young and childish, and so little qualified--how could I be -otherwise?--to undertake the whole charge of my own existence, that -often, in going to Murdstone and Grinby's, of a morning, I could -not resist the stale pastry put out for sale at half-price at the -pastrycooks' doors, and spent in that the money I should have kept for -my dinner. Then, I went without my dinner, or bought a roll or a slice -of pudding. I remember two pudding shops, between which I was divided, -according to my finances. One was in a court close to St. Martin's -Church--at the back of the church,--which is now removed altogether. -The pudding at that shop was made of currants, and was rather a special -pudding, but was dear, twopennyworth not being larger than a pennyworth -of more ordinary pudding. A good shop for the latter was in the -Strand--somewhere in that part which has been rebuilt since. It was a -stout pale pudding, heavy and flabby, and with great flat raisins in it, -stuck in whole at wide distances apart. It came up hot at about my time -every day, and many a day did I dine off it. When I dined regularly and -handsomely, I had a saveloy and a penny loaf, or a fourpenny plate of -red beef from a cook's shop; or a plate of bread and cheese and a -glass of beer, from a miserable old public-house opposite our place of -business, called the Lion, or the Lion and something else that I have -forgotten. Once, I remember carrying my own bread (which I had brought -from home in the morning) under my arm, wrapped in a piece of paper, -like a book, and going to a famous alamode beef-house near Drury Lane, -and ordering a 'small plate' of that delicacy to eat with it. What the -waiter thought of such a strange little apparition coming in all alone, -I don't know; but I can see him now, staring at me as I ate my dinner, -and bringing up the other waiter to look. I gave him a halfpenny for -himself, and I wish he hadn't taken it. - -We had half-an-hour, I think, for tea. When I had money enough, I used -to get half-a-pint of ready-made coffee and a slice of bread and butter. -When I had none, I used to look at a venison shop in Fleet Street; or -I have strolled, at such a time, as far as Covent Garden Market, and -stared at the pineapples. I was fond of wandering about the Adelphi, -because it was a mysterious place, with those dark arches. I see myself -emerging one evening from some of these arches, on a little public-house -close to the river, with an open space before it, where some -coal-heavers were dancing; to look at whom I sat down upon a bench. I -wonder what they thought of me! - -I was such a child, and so little, that frequently when I went into the -bar of a strange public-house for a glass of ale or porter, to moisten -what I had had for dinner, they were afraid to give it me. I remember -one hot evening I went into the bar of a public-house, and said to the -landlord: 'What is your best--your very best--ale a glass?' For it was a -special occasion. I don't know what. It may have been my birthday. - -'Twopence-halfpenny,' says the landlord, 'is the price of the Genuine -Stunning ale.' - -'Then,' says I, producing the money, 'just draw me a glass of the -Genuine Stunning, if you please, with a good head to it.' - -The landlord looked at me in return over the bar, from head to foot, -with a strange smile on his face; and instead of drawing the beer, -looked round the screen and said something to his wife. She came out -from behind it, with her work in her hand, and joined him in surveying -me. Here we stand, all three, before me now. The landlord in his -shirt-sleeves, leaning against the bar window-frame; his wife looking -over the little half-door; and I, in some confusion, looking up at them -from outside the partition. They asked me a good many questions; as, -what my name was, how old I was, where I lived, how I was employed, -and how I came there. To all of which, that I might commit nobody, I -invented, I am afraid, appropriate answers. They served me with the ale, -though I suspect it was not the Genuine Stunning; and the landlord's -wife, opening the little half-door of the bar, and bending down, gave -me my money back, and gave me a kiss that was half admiring and half -compassionate, but all womanly and good, I am sure. - -I know I do not exaggerate, unconsciously and unintentionally, the -scantiness of my resources or the difficulties of my life. I know that -if a shilling were given me by Mr. Quinion at any time, I spent it in -a dinner or a tea. I know that I worked, from morning until night, with -common men and boys, a shabby child. I know that I lounged about the -streets, insufficiently and unsatisfactorily fed. I know that, but for -the mercy of God, I might easily have been, for any care that was taken -of me, a little robber or a little vagabond. - -Yet I held some station at Murdstone and Grinby's too. Besides that Mr. -Quinion did what a careless man so occupied, and dealing with a thing so -anomalous, could, to treat me as one upon a different footing from the -rest, I never said, to man or boy, how it was that I came to be there, -or gave the least indication of being sorry that I was there. That I -suffered in secret, and that I suffered exquisitely, no one ever knew -but I. How much I suffered, it is, as I have said already, utterly -beyond my power to tell. But I kept my own counsel, and I did my work. -I knew from the first, that, if I could not do my work as well as any -of the rest, I could not hold myself above slight and contempt. I soon -became at least as expeditious and as skilful as either of the other -boys. Though perfectly familiar with them, my conduct and manner were -different enough from theirs to place a space between us. They and -the men generally spoke of me as 'the little gent', or 'the young -Suffolker.' A certain man named Gregory, who was foreman of the packers, -and another named Tipp, who was the carman, and wore a red jacket, used -to address me sometimes as 'David': but I think it was mostly when we -were very confidential, and when I had made some efforts to entertain -them, over our work, with some results of the old readings; which were -fast perishing out of my remembrance. Mealy Potatoes uprose once, and -rebelled against my being so distinguished; but Mick Walker settled him -in no time. - -My rescue from this kind of existence I considered quite hopeless, and -abandoned, as such, altogether. I am solemnly convinced that I never for -one hour was reconciled to it, or was otherwise than miserably unhappy; -but I bore it; and even to Peggotty, partly for the love of her and -partly for shame, never in any letter (though many passed between us) -revealed the truth. - -Mr. Micawber's difficulties were an addition to the distressed state of -my mind. In my forlorn state I became quite attached to the family, and -used to walk about, busy with Mrs. Micawber's calculations of ways and -means, and heavy with the weight of Mr. Micawber's debts. On a Saturday -night, which was my grand treat,--partly because it was a great thing -to walk home with six or seven shillings in my pocket, looking into the -shops and thinking what such a sum would buy, and partly because I went -home early,--Mrs. Micawber would make the most heart-rending confidences -to me; also on a Sunday morning, when I mixed the portion of tea or -coffee I had bought over-night, in a little shaving-pot, and sat late -at my breakfast. It was nothing at all unusual for Mr. Micawber to sob -violently at the beginning of one of these Saturday night conversations, -and sing about Jack's delight being his lovely Nan, towards the end of -it. I have known him come home to supper with a flood of tears, and a -declaration that nothing was now left but a jail; and go to bed making a -calculation of the expense of putting bow-windows to the house, 'in -case anything turned up', which was his favourite expression. And Mrs. -Micawber was just the same. - -A curious equality of friendship, originating, I suppose, in our -respective circumstances, sprung up between me and these people, -notwithstanding the ludicrous disparity in our years. But I never -allowed myself to be prevailed upon to accept any invitation to eat and -drink with them out of their stock (knowing that they got on badly with -the butcher and baker, and had often not too much for themselves), -until Mrs. Micawber took me into her entire confidence. This she did one -evening as follows: - -'Master Copperfield,' said Mrs. Micawber, 'I make no stranger of you, -and therefore do not hesitate to say that Mr. Micawber's difficulties -are coming to a crisis.' - -It made me very miserable to hear it, and I looked at Mrs. Micawber's -red eyes with the utmost sympathy. - -'With the exception of the heel of a Dutch cheese--which is not adapted -to the wants of a young family'--said Mrs. Micawber, 'there is really -not a scrap of anything in the larder. I was accustomed to speak of -the larder when I lived with papa and mama, and I use the word almost -unconsciously. What I mean to express is, that there is nothing to eat -in the house.' - -'Dear me!' I said, in great concern. - -I had two or three shillings of my week's money in my pocket--from which -I presume that it must have been on a Wednesday night when we held this -conversation--and I hastily produced them, and with heartfelt emotion -begged Mrs. Micawber to accept of them as a loan. But that lady, kissing -me, and making me put them back in my pocket, replied that she couldn't -think of it. - -'No, my dear Master Copperfield,' said she, 'far be it from my thoughts! -But you have a discretion beyond your years, and can render me another -kind of service, if you will; and a service I will thankfully accept -of.' - -I begged Mrs. Micawber to name it. - -'I have parted with the plate myself,' said Mrs. Micawber. 'Six tea, two -salt, and a pair of sugars, I have at different times borrowed money on, -in secret, with my own hands. But the twins are a great tie; and to me, -with my recollections, of papa and mama, these transactions are very -painful. There are still a few trifles that we could part with. Mr. -Micawber's feelings would never allow him to dispose of them; and -Clickett'--this was the girl from the workhouse--'being of a vulgar -mind, would take painful liberties if so much confidence was reposed in -her. Master Copperfield, if I might ask you--' - -I understood Mrs. Micawber now, and begged her to make use of me to any -extent. I began to dispose of the more portable articles of property -that very evening; and went out on a similar expedition almost every -morning, before I went to Murdstone and Grinby's. - -Mr. Micawber had a few books on a little chiffonier, which he called the -library; and those went first. I carried them, one after another, to -a bookstall in the City Road--one part of which, near our house, was -almost all bookstalls and bird shops then--and sold them for whatever -they would bring. The keeper of this bookstall, who lived in a little -house behind it, used to get tipsy every night, and to be violently -scolded by his wife every morning. More than once, when I went there -early, I had audience of him in a turn-up bedstead, with a cut in his -forehead or a black eye, bearing witness to his excesses over-night (I -am afraid he was quarrelsome in his drink), and he, with a shaking -hand, endeavouring to find the needful shillings in one or other of the -pockets of his clothes, which lay upon the floor, while his wife, with a -baby in her arms and her shoes down at heel, never left off rating him. -Sometimes he had lost his money, and then he would ask me to call again; -but his wife had always got some--had taken his, I dare say, while he -was drunk--and secretly completed the bargain on the stairs, as we went -down together. At the pawnbroker's shop, too, I began to be very well -known. The principal gentleman who officiated behind the counter, took -a good deal of notice of me; and often got me, I recollect, to decline a -Latin noun or adjective, or to conjugate a Latin verb, in his ear, while -he transacted my business. After all these occasions Mrs. Micawber made -a little treat, which was generally a supper; and there was a peculiar -relish in these meals which I well remember. - -At last Mr. Micawber's difficulties came to a crisis, and he was -arrested early one morning, and carried over to the King's Bench Prison -in the Borough. He told me, as he went out of the house, that the God -of day had now gone down upon him--and I really thought his heart was -broken and mine too. But I heard, afterwards, that he was seen to play a -lively game at skittles, before noon. - -On the first Sunday after he was taken there, I was to go and see him, -and have dinner with him. I was to ask my way to such a place, and just -short of that place I should see such another place, and just short of -that I should see a yard, which I was to cross, and keep straight on -until I saw a turnkey. All this I did; and when at last I did see a -turnkey (poor little fellow that I was!), and thought how, when Roderick -Random was in a debtors' prison, there was a man there with nothing -on him but an old rug, the turnkey swam before my dimmed eyes and my -beating heart. - -Mr. Micawber was waiting for me within the gate, and we went up to his -room (top story but one), and cried very much. He solemnly conjured me, -I remember, to take warning by his fate; and to observe that if a man -had twenty pounds a-year for his income, and spent nineteen pounds -nineteen shillings and sixpence, he would be happy, but that if he -spent twenty pounds one he would be miserable. After which he borrowed a -shilling of me for porter, gave me a written order on Mrs. Micawber for -the amount, and put away his pocket-handkerchief, and cheered up. - -We sat before a little fire, with two bricks put within the rusted -grate, one on each side, to prevent its burning too many coals; until -another debtor, who shared the room with Mr. Micawber, came in from the -bakehouse with the loin of mutton which was our joint-stock repast. -Then I was sent up to 'Captain Hopkins' in the room overhead, with Mr. -Micawber's compliments, and I was his young friend, and would Captain -Hopkins lend me a knife and fork. - -Captain Hopkins lent me the knife and fork, with his compliments to Mr. -Micawber. There was a very dirty lady in his little room, and two wan -girls, his daughters, with shock heads of hair. I thought it was better -to borrow Captain Hopkins's knife and fork, than Captain Hopkins's comb. -The Captain himself was in the last extremity of shabbiness, with large -whiskers, and an old, old brown great-coat with no other coat below it. -I saw his bed rolled up in a corner; and what plates and dishes and pots -he had, on a shelf; and I divined (God knows how) that though the two -girls with the shock heads of hair were Captain Hopkins's children, the -dirty lady was not married to Captain Hopkins. My timid station on his -threshold was not occupied more than a couple of minutes at most; but -I came down again with all this in my knowledge, as surely as the knife -and fork were in my hand. - -There was something gipsy-like and agreeable in the dinner, after all. -I took back Captain Hopkins's knife and fork early in the afternoon, -and went home to comfort Mrs. Micawber with an account of my visit. -She fainted when she saw me return, and made a little jug of egg-hot -afterwards to console us while we talked it over. - -I don't know how the household furniture came to be sold for the family -benefit, or who sold it, except that I did not. Sold it was, however, -and carried away in a van; except the bed, a few chairs, and the kitchen -table. With these possessions we encamped, as it were, in the two -parlours of the emptied house in Windsor Terrace; Mrs. Micawber, the -children, the Orfling, and myself; and lived in those rooms night and -day. I have no idea for how long, though it seems to me for a long -time. At last Mrs. Micawber resolved to move into the prison, where Mr. -Micawber had now secured a room to himself. So I took the key of the -house to the landlord, who was very glad to get it; and the beds were -sent over to the King's Bench, except mine, for which a little room was -hired outside the walls in the neighbourhood of that Institution, very -much to my satisfaction, since the Micawbers and I had become too used -to one another, in our troubles, to part. The Orfling was likewise -accommodated with an inexpensive lodging in the same neighbourhood. -Mine was a quiet back-garret with a sloping roof, commanding a pleasant -prospect of a timberyard; and when I took possession of it, with the -reflection that Mr. Micawber's troubles had come to a crisis at last, I -thought it quite a paradise. - -All this time I was working at Murdstone and Grinby's in the same common -way, and with the same common companions, and with the same sense of -unmerited degradation as at first. But I never, happily for me no doubt, -made a single acquaintance, or spoke to any of the many boys whom I -saw daily in going to the warehouse, in coming from it, and in prowling -about the streets at meal-times. I led the same secretly unhappy life; -but I led it in the same lonely, self-reliant manner. The only changes -I am conscious of are, firstly, that I had grown more shabby, and -secondly, that I was now relieved of much of the weight of Mr. and Mrs. -Micawber's cares; for some relatives or friends had engaged to help them -at their present pass, and they lived more comfortably in the prison -than they had lived for a long while out of it. I used to breakfast with -them now, in virtue of some arrangement, of which I have forgotten -the details. I forget, too, at what hour the gates were opened in the -morning, admitting of my going in; but I know that I was often up at six -o'clock, and that my favourite lounging-place in the interval was old -London Bridge, where I was wont to sit in one of the stone recesses, -watching the people going by, or to look over the balustrades at the sun -shining in the water, and lighting up the golden flame on the top of the -Monument. The Orfling met me here sometimes, to be told some astonishing -fictions respecting the wharves and the Tower; of which I can say no -more than that I hope I believed them myself. In the evening I used -to go back to the prison, and walk up and down the parade with Mr. -Micawber; or play casino with Mrs. Micawber, and hear reminiscences of -her papa and mama. Whether Mr. Murdstone knew where I was, I am unable -to say. I never told them at Murdstone and Grinby's. - -Mr. Micawber's affairs, although past their crisis, were very much -involved by reason of a certain 'Deed', of which I used to hear a great -deal, and which I suppose, now, to have been some former composition -with his creditors, though I was so far from being clear about it -then, that I am conscious of having confounded it with those demoniacal -parchments which are held to have, once upon a time, obtained to a great -extent in Germany. At last this document appeared to be got out of the -way, somehow; at all events it ceased to be the rock-ahead it had been; -and Mrs. Micawber informed me that 'her family' had decided that Mr. -Micawber should apply for his release under the Insolvent Debtors Act, -which would set him free, she expected, in about six weeks. - -'And then,' said Mr. Micawber, who was present, 'I have no doubt I -shall, please Heaven, begin to be beforehand with the world, and to live -in a perfectly new manner, if--in short, if anything turns up.' - -By way of going in for anything that might be on the cards, I call to -mind that Mr. Micawber, about this time, composed a petition to the -House of Commons, praying for an alteration in the law of imprisonment -for debt. I set down this remembrance here, because it is an instance to -myself of the manner in which I fitted my old books to my altered life, -and made stories for myself, out of the streets, and out of men and -women; and how some main points in the character I shall unconsciously -develop, I suppose, in writing my life, were gradually forming all this -while. - -There was a club in the prison, in which Mr. Micawber, as a gentleman, -was a great authority. Mr. Micawber had stated his idea of this petition -to the club, and the club had strongly approved of the same. Wherefore -Mr. Micawber (who was a thoroughly good-natured man, and as active a -creature about everything but his own affairs as ever existed, and never -so happy as when he was busy about something that could never be of any -profit to him) set to work at the petition, invented it, engrossed it -on an immense sheet of paper, spread it out on a table, and appointed a -time for all the club, and all within the walls if they chose, to come -up to his room and sign it. - -When I heard of this approaching ceremony, I was so anxious to see them -all come in, one after another, though I knew the greater part of -them already, and they me, that I got an hour's leave of absence from -Murdstone and Grinby's, and established myself in a corner for that -purpose. As many of the principal members of the club as could be got -into the small room without filling it, supported Mr. Micawber in front -of the petition, while my old friend Captain Hopkins (who had washed -himself, to do honour to so solemn an occasion) stationed himself close -to it, to read it to all who were unacquainted with its contents. The -door was then thrown open, and the general population began to come in, -in a long file: several waiting outside, while one entered, affixed his -signature, and went out. To everybody in succession, Captain Hopkins -said: 'Have you read it?'--'No.'---'Would you like to hear it read?' If -he weakly showed the least disposition to hear it, Captain Hopkins, in -a loud sonorous voice, gave him every word of it. The Captain would -have read it twenty thousand times, if twenty thousand people would have -heard him, one by one. I remember a certain luscious roll he gave to -such phrases as 'The people's representatives in Parliament assembled,' -'Your petitioners therefore humbly approach your honourable house,' 'His -gracious Majesty's unfortunate subjects,' as if the words were something -real in his mouth, and delicious to taste; Mr. Micawber, meanwhile, -listening with a little of an author's vanity, and contemplating (not -severely) the spikes on the opposite wall. - -As I walked to and fro daily between Southwark and Blackfriars, and -lounged about at meal-times in obscure streets, the stones of which -may, for anything I know, be worn at this moment by my childish feet, I -wonder how many of these people were wanting in the crowd that used to -come filing before me in review again, to the echo of Captain Hopkins's -voice! When my thoughts go back, now, to that slow agony of my youth, I -wonder how much of the histories I invented for such people hangs like a -mist of fancy over well-remembered facts! When I tread the old ground, -I do not wonder that I seem to see and pity, going on before me, an -innocent romantic boy, making his imaginative world out of such strange -experiences and sordid things! - - - -CHAPTER 12. LIKING LIFE ON MY OWN ACCOUNT NO BETTER, I FORM A GREAT RESOLUTION - - -In due time, Mr. Micawber's petition was ripe for hearing; and that -gentleman was ordered to be discharged under the Act, to my great joy. -His creditors were not implacable; and Mrs. Micawber informed me that -even the revengeful boot-maker had declared in open court that he bore -him no malice, but that when money was owing to him he liked to be paid. -He said he thought it was human nature. - -Mr. Micawber returned to the King's Bench when his case was over, as -some fees were to be settled, and some formalities observed, before he -could be actually released. The club received him with transport, and -held an harmonic meeting that evening in his honour; while Mrs. Micawber -and I had a lamb's fry in private, surrounded by the sleeping family. - -'On such an occasion I will give you, Master Copperfield,' said Mrs. -Micawber, 'in a little more flip,' for we had been having some already, -'the memory of my papa and mama.' - -'Are they dead, ma'am?' I inquired, after drinking the toast in a -wine-glass. - -'My mama departed this life,' said Mrs. Micawber, 'before Mr. Micawber's -difficulties commenced, or at least before they became pressing. My papa -lived to bail Mr. Micawber several times, and then expired, regretted by -a numerous circle.' - -Mrs. Micawber shook her head, and dropped a pious tear upon the twin who -happened to be in hand. - -As I could hardly hope for a more favourable opportunity of putting a -question in which I had a near interest, I said to Mrs. Micawber: - -'May I ask, ma'am, what you and Mr. Micawber intend to do, now that Mr. -Micawber is out of his difficulties, and at liberty? Have you settled -yet?' - -'My family,' said Mrs. Micawber, who always said those two words with an -air, though I never could discover who came under the denomination, 'my -family are of opinion that Mr. Micawber should quit London, and exert -his talents in the country. Mr. Micawber is a man of great talent, -Master Copperfield.' - -I said I was sure of that. - -'Of great talent,' repeated Mrs. Micawber. 'My family are of opinion, -that, with a little interest, something might be done for a man of his -ability in the Custom House. The influence of my family being local, it -is their wish that Mr. Micawber should go down to Plymouth. They think -it indispensable that he should be upon the spot.' - -'That he may be ready?' I suggested. - -'Exactly,' returned Mrs. Micawber. 'That he may be ready--in case of -anything turning up.' - -'And do you go too, ma'am?' - -The events of the day, in combination with the twins, if not with the -flip, had made Mrs. Micawber hysterical, and she shed tears as she -replied: - -'I never will desert Mr. Micawber. Mr. Micawber may have concealed his -difficulties from me in the first instance, but his sanguine temper may -have led him to expect that he would overcome them. The pearl necklace -and bracelets which I inherited from mama, have been disposed of for -less than half their value; and the set of coral, which was the wedding -gift of my papa, has been actually thrown away for nothing. But I never -will desert Mr. Micawber. No!' cried Mrs. Micawber, more affected than -before, 'I never will do it! It's of no use asking me!' - -I felt quite uncomfortable--as if Mrs. Micawber supposed I had asked her -to do anything of the sort!--and sat looking at her in alarm. - -'Mr. Micawber has his faults. I do not deny that he is improvident. I -do not deny that he has kept me in the dark as to his resources and his -liabilities both,' she went on, looking at the wall; 'but I never will -desert Mr. Micawber!' - -Mrs. Micawber having now raised her voice into a perfect scream, I -was so frightened that I ran off to the club-room, and disturbed Mr. -Micawber in the act of presiding at a long table, and leading the chorus -of - - Gee up, Dobbin, - Gee ho, Dobbin, - Gee up, Dobbin, - Gee up, and gee ho--o--o! - -with the tidings that Mrs. Micawber was in an alarming state, upon -which he immediately burst into tears, and came away with me with his -waistcoat full of the heads and tails of shrimps, of which he had been -partaking. - -'Emma, my angel!' cried Mr. Micawber, running into the room; 'what is -the matter?' - -'I never will desert you, Micawber!' she exclaimed. - -'My life!' said Mr. Micawber, taking her in his arms. 'I am perfectly -aware of it.' - -'He is the parent of my children! He is the father of my twins! He is -the husband of my affections,' cried Mrs. Micawber, struggling; 'and I -ne--ver--will--desert Mr. Micawber!' - -Mr. Micawber was so deeply affected by this proof of her devotion (as -to me, I was dissolved in tears), that he hung over her in a passionate -manner, imploring her to look up, and to be calm. But the more he asked -Mrs. Micawber to look up, the more she fixed her eyes on nothing; -and the more he asked her to compose herself, the more she wouldn't. -Consequently Mr. Micawber was soon so overcome, that he mingled his -tears with hers and mine; until he begged me to do him the favour of -taking a chair on the staircase, while he got her into bed. I would have -taken my leave for the night, but he would not hear of my doing that -until the strangers' bell should ring. So I sat at the staircase window, -until he came out with another chair and joined me. - -'How is Mrs. Micawber now, sir?' I said. - -'Very low,' said Mr. Micawber, shaking his head; 'reaction. Ah, this has -been a dreadful day! We stand alone now--everything is gone from us!' - -Mr. Micawber pressed my hand, and groaned, and afterwards shed tears. -I was greatly touched, and disappointed too, for I had expected that we -should be quite gay on this happy and long-looked-for occasion. But Mr. -and Mrs. Micawber were so used to their old difficulties, I think, that -they felt quite shipwrecked when they came to consider that they were -released from them. All their elasticity was departed, and I never saw -them half so wretched as on this night; insomuch that when the bell -rang, and Mr. Micawber walked with me to the lodge, and parted from me -there with a blessing, I felt quite afraid to leave him by himself, he -was so profoundly miserable. - -But through all the confusion and lowness of spirits in which we had -been, so unexpectedly to me, involved, I plainly discerned that Mr. and -Mrs. Micawber and their family were going away from London, and that a -parting between us was near at hand. It was in my walk home that night, -and in the sleepless hours which followed when I lay in bed, that the -thought first occurred to me--though I don't know how it came into my -head--which afterwards shaped itself into a settled resolution. - -I had grown to be so accustomed to the Micawbers, and had been so -intimate with them in their distresses, and was so utterly friendless -without them, that the prospect of being thrown upon some new shift for -a lodging, and going once more among unknown people, was like being that -moment turned adrift into my present life, with such a knowledge of it -ready made as experience had given me. All the sensitive feelings it -wounded so cruelly, all the shame and misery it kept alive within my -breast, became more poignant as I thought of this; and I determined that -the life was unendurable. - -That there was no hope of escape from it, unless the escape was my own -act, I knew quite well. I rarely heard from Miss Murdstone, and never -from Mr. Murdstone: but two or three parcels of made or mended clothes -had come up for me, consigned to Mr. Quinion, and in each there was -a scrap of paper to the effect that J. M. trusted D. C. was applying -himself to business, and devoting himself wholly to his duties--not the -least hint of my ever being anything else than the common drudge into -which I was fast settling down. - -The very next day showed me, while my mind was in the first agitation of -what it had conceived, that Mrs. Micawber had not spoken of their going -away without warrant. They took a lodging in the house where I lived, -for a week; at the expiration of which time they were to start for -Plymouth. Mr. Micawber himself came down to the counting-house, in the -afternoon, to tell Mr. Quinion that he must relinquish me on the day -of his departure, and to give me a high character, which I am sure I -deserved. And Mr. Quinion, calling in Tipp the carman, who was a married -man, and had a room to let, quartered me prospectively on him--by our -mutual consent, as he had every reason to think; for I said nothing, -though my resolution was now taken. - -I passed my evenings with Mr. and Mrs. Micawber, during the remaining -term of our residence under the same roof; and I think we became fonder -of one another as the time went on. On the last Sunday, they invited me -to dinner; and we had a loin of pork and apple sauce, and a pudding. I -had bought a spotted wooden horse over-night as a parting gift to little -Wilkins Micawber--that was the boy--and a doll for little Emma. I had -also bestowed a shilling on the Orfling, who was about to be disbanded. - -We had a very pleasant day, though we were all in a tender state about -our approaching separation. - -'I shall never, Master Copperfield,' said Mrs. Micawber, 'revert to the -period when Mr. Micawber was in difficulties, without thinking of -you. Your conduct has always been of the most delicate and obliging -description. You have never been a lodger. You have been a friend.' - -'My dear,' said Mr. Micawber; 'Copperfield,' for so he had been -accustomed to call me, of late, 'has a heart to feel for the distresses -of his fellow-creatures when they are behind a cloud, and a head to -plan, and a hand to--in short, a general ability to dispose of such -available property as could be made away with.' - -I expressed my sense of this commendation, and said I was very sorry we -were going to lose one another. - -'My dear young friend,' said Mr. Micawber, 'I am older than you; a man -of some experience in life, and--and of some experience, in short, in -difficulties, generally speaking. At present, and until something turns -up (which I am, I may say, hourly expecting), I have nothing to bestow -but advice. Still my advice is so far worth taking, that--in short, that -I have never taken it myself, and am the'--here Mr. Micawber, who had -been beaming and smiling, all over his head and face, up to the present -moment, checked himself and frowned--'the miserable wretch you behold.' - -'My dear Micawber!' urged his wife. - -'I say,' returned Mr. Micawber, quite forgetting himself, and smiling -again, 'the miserable wretch you behold. My advice is, never do tomorrow -what you can do today. Procrastination is the thief of time. Collar -him!' - -'My poor papa's maxim,' Mrs. Micawber observed. - -'My dear,' said Mr. Micawber, 'your papa was very well in his way, and -Heaven forbid that I should disparage him. Take him for all in all, we -ne'er shall--in short, make the acquaintance, probably, of anybody else -possessing, at his time of life, the same legs for gaiters, and able to -read the same description of print, without spectacles. But he applied -that maxim to our marriage, my dear; and that was so far prematurely -entered into, in consequence, that I never recovered the expense.' Mr. -Micawber looked aside at Mrs. Micawber, and added: 'Not that I am sorry -for it. Quite the contrary, my love.' After which, he was grave for a -minute or so. - -'My other piece of advice, Copperfield,' said Mr. Micawber, 'you know. -Annual income twenty pounds, annual expenditure nineteen nineteen and -six, result happiness. Annual income twenty pounds, annual expenditure -twenty pounds ought and six, result misery. The blossom is blighted, -the leaf is withered, the god of day goes down upon the dreary scene, -and--and in short you are for ever floored. As I am!' - -To make his example the more impressive, Mr. Micawber drank a glass of -punch with an air of great enjoyment and satisfaction, and whistled the -College Hornpipe. - -I did not fail to assure him that I would store these precepts in my -mind, though indeed I had no need to do so, for, at the time, they -affected me visibly. Next morning I met the whole family at the coach -office, and saw them, with a desolate heart, take their places outside, -at the back. - -'Master Copperfield,' said Mrs. Micawber, 'God bless you! I never can -forget all that, you know, and I never would if I could.' - -'Copperfield,' said Mr. Micawber, 'farewell! Every happiness and -prosperity! If, in the progress of revolving years, I could persuade -myself that my blighted destiny had been a warning to you, I should feel -that I had not occupied another man's place in existence altogether in -vain. In case of anything turning up (of which I am rather confident), -I shall be extremely happy if it should be in my power to improve your -prospects.' - -I think, as Mrs. Micawber sat at the back of the coach, with the -children, and I stood in the road looking wistfully at them, a mist -cleared from her eyes, and she saw what a little creature I really was. -I think so, because she beckoned to me to climb up, with quite a new and -motherly expression in her face, and put her arm round my neck, and gave -me just such a kiss as she might have given to her own boy. I had barely -time to get down again before the coach started, and I could hardly see -the family for the handkerchiefs they waved. It was gone in a minute. -The Orfling and I stood looking vacantly at each other in the middle -of the road, and then shook hands and said good-bye; she going back, -I suppose, to St. Luke's workhouse, as I went to begin my weary day at -Murdstone and Grinby's. - -But with no intention of passing many more weary days there. No. I had -resolved to run away.---To go, by some means or other, down into the -country, to the only relation I had in the world, and tell my story to -my aunt, Miss Betsey. I have already observed that I don't know how this -desperate idea came into my brain. But, once there, it remained there; -and hardened into a purpose than which I have never entertained a more -determined purpose in my life. I am far from sure that I believed there -was anything hopeful in it, but my mind was thoroughly made up that it -must be carried into execution. - -Again, and again, and a hundred times again, since the night when the -thought had first occurred to me and banished sleep, I had gone over -that old story of my poor mother's about my birth, which it had been one -of my great delights in the old time to hear her tell, and which I knew -by heart. My aunt walked into that story, and walked out of it, a dread -and awful personage; but there was one little trait in her behaviour -which I liked to dwell on, and which gave me some faint shadow of -encouragement. I could not forget how my mother had thought that she -felt her touch her pretty hair with no ungentle hand; and though it -might have been altogether my mother's fancy, and might have had no -foundation whatever in fact, I made a little picture, out of it, of my -terrible aunt relenting towards the girlish beauty that I recollected so -well and loved so much, which softened the whole narrative. It is very -possible that it had been in my mind a long time, and had gradually -engendered my determination. - -As I did not even know where Miss Betsey lived, I wrote a long letter -to Peggotty, and asked her, incidentally, if she remembered; pretending -that I had heard of such a lady living at a certain place I named at -random, and had a curiosity to know if it were the same. In the course -of that letter, I told Peggotty that I had a particular occasion for -half a guinea; and that if she could lend me that sum until I could -repay it, I should be very much obliged to her, and would tell her -afterwards what I had wanted it for. - -Peggotty's answer soon arrived, and was, as usual, full of affectionate -devotion. She enclosed the half guinea (I was afraid she must have had -a world of trouble to get it out of Mr. Barkis's box), and told me that -Miss Betsey lived near Dover, but whether at Dover itself, at Hythe, -Sandgate, or Folkestone, she could not say. One of our men, however, -informing me on my asking him about these places, that they were all -close together, I deemed this enough for my object, and resolved to set -out at the end of that week. - -Being a very honest little creature, and unwilling to disgrace the -memory I was going to leave behind me at Murdstone and Grinby's, I -considered myself bound to remain until Saturday night; and, as I had -been paid a week's wages in advance when I first came there, not to -present myself in the counting-house at the usual hour, to receive my -stipend. For this express reason, I had borrowed the half-guinea, that -I might not be without a fund for my travelling-expenses. Accordingly, -when the Saturday night came, and we were all waiting in the warehouse -to be paid, and Tipp the carman, who always took precedence, went in -first to draw his money, I shook Mick Walker by the hand; asked him, -when it came to his turn to be paid, to say to Mr. Quinion that I had -gone to move my box to Tipp's; and, bidding a last good night to Mealy -Potatoes, ran away. - -My box was at my old lodging, over the water, and I had written a -direction for it on the back of one of our address cards that we nailed -on the casks: 'Master David, to be left till called for, at the Coach -Office, Dover.' This I had in my pocket ready to put on the box, after I -should have got it out of the house; and as I went towards my lodging, -I looked about me for someone who would help me to carry it to the -booking-office. - -There was a long-legged young man with a very little empty donkey-cart, -standing near the Obelisk, in the Blackfriars Road, whose eye I caught -as I was going by, and who, addressing me as 'Sixpenn'orth of bad -ha'pence,' hoped 'I should know him agin to swear to'--in allusion, I -have no doubt, to my staring at him. I stopped to assure him that I had -not done so in bad manners, but uncertain whether he might or might not -like a job. - -'Wot job?' said the long-legged young man. - -'To move a box,' I answered. - -'Wot box?' said the long-legged young man. - -I told him mine, which was down that street there, and which I wanted -him to take to the Dover coach office for sixpence. - -'Done with you for a tanner!' said the long-legged young man, and -directly got upon his cart, which was nothing but a large wooden tray on -wheels, and rattled away at such a rate, that it was as much as I could -do to keep pace with the donkey. - -There was a defiant manner about this young man, and particularly about -the way in which he chewed straw as he spoke to me, that I did not much -like; as the bargain was made, however, I took him upstairs to the room -I was leaving, and we brought the box down, and put it on his cart. -Now, I was unwilling to put the direction-card on there, lest any of my -landlord's family should fathom what I was doing, and detain me; so -I said to the young man that I would be glad if he would stop for a -minute, when he came to the dead-wall of the King's Bench prison. The -words were no sooner out of my mouth, than he rattled away as if he, my -box, the cart, and the donkey, were all equally mad; and I was quite out -of breath with running and calling after him, when I caught him at the -place appointed. - -Being much flushed and excited, I tumbled my half-guinea out of my -pocket in pulling the card out. I put it in my mouth for safety, and -though my hands trembled a good deal, had just tied the card on very -much to my satisfaction, when I felt myself violently chucked under the -chin by the long-legged young man, and saw my half-guinea fly out of my -mouth into his hand. - -'Wot!' said the young man, seizing me by my jacket collar, with a -frightful grin. 'This is a pollis case, is it? You're a-going to bolt, -are you? Come to the pollis, you young warmin, come to the pollis!' - -'You give me my money back, if you please,' said I, very much -frightened; 'and leave me alone.' - -'Come to the pollis!' said the young man. 'You shall prove it yourn to -the pollis.' - -'Give me my box and money, will you,' I cried, bursting into tears. - -The young man still replied: 'Come to the pollis!' and was dragging me -against the donkey in a violent manner, as if there were any affinity -between that animal and a magistrate, when he changed his mind, jumped -into the cart, sat upon my box, and, exclaiming that he would drive to -the pollis straight, rattled away harder than ever. - -I ran after him as fast as I could, but I had no breath to call out -with, and should not have dared to call out, now, if I had. I narrowly -escaped being run over, twenty times at least, in half a mile. Now I -lost him, now I saw him, now I lost him, now I was cut at with a whip, -now shouted at, now down in the mud, now up again, now running into -somebody's arms, now running headlong at a post. At length, confused by -fright and heat, and doubting whether half London might not by this time -be turning out for my apprehension, I left the young man to go where -he would with my box and money; and, panting and crying, but never -stopping, faced about for Greenwich, which I had understood was on -the Dover Road: taking very little more out of the world, towards the -retreat of my aunt, Miss Betsey, than I had brought into it, on the -night when my arrival gave her so much umbrage. - - - -CHAPTER 13. THE SEQUEL OF MY RESOLUTION - - -For anything I know, I may have had some wild idea of running all the -way to Dover, when I gave up the pursuit of the young man with the -donkey-cart, and started for Greenwich. My scattered senses were soon -collected as to that point, if I had; for I came to a stop in the Kent -Road, at a terrace with a piece of water before it, and a great foolish -image in the middle, blowing a dry shell. Here I sat down on a doorstep, -quite spent and exhausted with the efforts I had already made, and with -hardly breath enough to cry for the loss of my box and half-guinea. - -It was by this time dark; I heard the clocks strike ten, as I sat -resting. But it was a summer night, fortunately, and fine weather. When -I had recovered my breath, and had got rid of a stifling sensation in -my throat, I rose up and went on. In the midst of my distress, I had no -notion of going back. I doubt if I should have had any, though there had -been a Swiss snow-drift in the Kent Road. - -But my standing possessed of only three-halfpence in the world (and I -am sure I wonder how they came to be left in my pocket on a Saturday -night!) troubled me none the less because I went on. I began to picture -to myself, as a scrap of newspaper intelligence, my being found dead in -a day or two, under some hedge; and I trudged on miserably, though as -fast as I could, until I happened to pass a little shop, where it was -written up that ladies' and gentlemen's wardrobes were bought, and that -the best price was given for rags, bones, and kitchen-stuff. The master -of this shop was sitting at the door in his shirt-sleeves, smoking; and -as there were a great many coats and pairs of trousers dangling from -the low ceiling, and only two feeble candles burning inside to show -what they were, I fancied that he looked like a man of a revengeful -disposition, who had hung all his enemies, and was enjoying himself. - -My late experiences with Mr. and Mrs. Micawber suggested to me that here -might be a means of keeping off the wolf for a little while. I went up -the next by-street, took off my waistcoat, rolled it neatly under my -arm, and came back to the shop door. - -'If you please, sir,' I said, 'I am to sell this for a fair price.' - -Mr. Dolloby--Dolloby was the name over the shop door, at least--took the -waistcoat, stood his pipe on its head, against the door-post, went into -the shop, followed by me, snuffed the two candles with his fingers, -spread the waistcoat on the counter, and looked at it there, held it up -against the light, and looked at it there, and ultimately said: - -'What do you call a price, now, for this here little weskit?' - -'Oh! you know best, sir,' I returned modestly. - -'I can't be buyer and seller too,' said Mr. Dolloby. 'Put a price on -this here little weskit.' - -'Would eighteenpence be?'--I hinted, after some hesitation. - -Mr. Dolloby rolled it up again, and gave it me back. 'I should rob my -family,' he said, 'if I was to offer ninepence for it.' - -This was a disagreeable way of putting the business; because it imposed -upon me, a perfect stranger, the unpleasantness of asking Mr. Dolloby to -rob his family on my account. My circumstances being so very pressing, -however, I said I would take ninepence for it, if he pleased. Mr. -Dolloby, not without some grumbling, gave ninepence. I wished him good -night, and walked out of the shop the richer by that sum, and the -poorer by a waistcoat. But when I buttoned my jacket, that was not much. -Indeed, I foresaw pretty clearly that my jacket would go next, and that -I should have to make the best of my way to Dover in a shirt and a pair -of trousers, and might deem myself lucky if I got there even in that -trim. But my mind did not run so much on this as might be supposed. -Beyond a general impression of the distance before me, and of the young -man with the donkey-cart having used me cruelly, I think I had no -very urgent sense of my difficulties when I once again set off with my -ninepence in my pocket. - -A plan had occurred to me for passing the night, which I was going to -carry into execution. This was, to lie behind the wall at the back of my -old school, in a corner where there used to be a haystack. I imagined -it would be a kind of company to have the boys, and the bedroom where -I used to tell the stories, so near me: although the boys would know -nothing of my being there, and the bedroom would yield me no shelter. - -I had had a hard day's work, and was pretty well jaded when I came -climbing out, at last, upon the level of Blackheath. It cost me some -trouble to find out Salem House; but I found it, and I found a haystack -in the corner, and I lay down by it; having first walked round the wall, -and looked up at the windows, and seen that all was dark and silent -within. Never shall I forget the lonely sensation of first lying down, -without a roof above my head! - -Sleep came upon me as it came on many other outcasts, against whom -house-doors were locked, and house-dogs barked, that night--and I -dreamed of lying on my old school-bed, talking to the boys in my room; -and found myself sitting upright, with Steerforth's name upon my lips, -looking wildly at the stars that were glistening and glimmering above -me. When I remembered where I was at that untimely hour, a feeling -stole upon me that made me get up, afraid of I don't know what, and walk -about. But the fainter glimmering of the stars, and the pale light in -the sky where the day was coming, reassured me: and my eyes being very -heavy, I lay down again and slept--though with a knowledge in my sleep -that it was cold--until the warm beams of the sun, and the ringing of -the getting-up bell at Salem House, awoke me. If I could have hoped that -Steerforth was there, I would have lurked about until he came out -alone; but I knew he must have left long since. Traddles still remained, -perhaps, but it was very doubtful; and I had not sufficient confidence -in his discretion or good luck, however strong my reliance was on his -good nature, to wish to trust him with my situation. So I crept away -from the wall as Mr. Creakle's boys were getting up, and struck into the -long dusty track which I had first known to be the Dover Road when I was -one of them, and when I little expected that any eyes would ever see me -the wayfarer I was now, upon it. - -What a different Sunday morning from the old Sunday morning at Yarmouth! -In due time I heard the church-bells ringing, as I plodded on; and I met -people who were going to church; and I passed a church or two where the -congregation were inside, and the sound of singing came out into the -sunshine, while the beadle sat and cooled himself in the shade of the -porch, or stood beneath the yew-tree, with his hand to his forehead, -glowering at me going by. But the peace and rest of the old Sunday -morning were on everything, except me. That was the difference. I felt -quite wicked in my dirt and dust, with my tangled hair. But for the -quiet picture I had conjured up, of my mother in her youth and beauty, -weeping by the fire, and my aunt relenting to her, I hardly think I -should have had the courage to go on until next day. But it always went -before me, and I followed. - -I got, that Sunday, through three-and-twenty miles on the straight -road, though not very easily, for I was new to that kind of toil. I -see myself, as evening closes in, coming over the bridge at Rochester, -footsore and tired, and eating bread that I had bought for supper. -One or two little houses, with the notice, 'Lodgings for Travellers', -hanging out, had tempted me; but I was afraid of spending the few pence -I had, and was even more afraid of the vicious looks of the trampers I -had met or overtaken. I sought no shelter, therefore, but the sky; and -toiling into Chatham,--which, in that night's aspect, is a mere dream of -chalk, and drawbridges, and mastless ships in a muddy river, roofed -like Noah's arks,--crept, at last, upon a sort of grass-grown battery -overhanging a lane, where a sentry was walking to and fro. Here I -lay down, near a cannon; and, happy in the society of the sentry's -footsteps, though he knew no more of my being above him than the boys -at Salem House had known of my lying by the wall, slept soundly until -morning. - -Very stiff and sore of foot I was in the morning, and quite dazed by the -beating of drums and marching of troops, which seemed to hem me in on -every side when I went down towards the long narrow street. Feeling -that I could go but a very little way that day, if I were to reserve any -strength for getting to my journey's end, I resolved to make the sale -of my jacket its principal business. Accordingly, I took the jacket off, -that I might learn to do without it; and carrying it under my arm, began -a tour of inspection of the various slop-shops. - -It was a likely place to sell a jacket in; for the dealers in -second-hand clothes were numerous, and were, generally speaking, on the -look-out for customers at their shop doors. But as most of them had, -hanging up among their stock, an officer's coat or two, epaulettes and -all, I was rendered timid by the costly nature of their dealings, and -walked about for a long time without offering my merchandise to anyone. - -This modesty of mine directed my attention to the marine-store shops, -and such shops as Mr. Dolloby's, in preference to the regular dealers. -At last I found one that I thought looked promising, at the corner of a -dirty lane, ending in an enclosure full of stinging-nettles, against the -palings of which some second-hand sailors' clothes, that seemed to have -overflowed the shop, were fluttering among some cots, and rusty guns, -and oilskin hats, and certain trays full of so many old rusty keys of so -many sizes that they seemed various enough to open all the doors in the -world. - -Into this shop, which was low and small, and which was darkened -rather than lighted by a little window, overhung with clothes, and was -descended into by some steps, I went with a palpitating heart; which was -not relieved when an ugly old man, with the lower part of his face all -covered with a stubbly grey beard, rushed out of a dirty den behind it, -and seized me by the hair of my head. He was a dreadful old man to look -at, in a filthy flannel waistcoat, and smelling terribly of rum. His -bedstead, covered with a tumbled and ragged piece of patchwork, was in -the den he had come from, where another little window showed a prospect -of more stinging-nettles, and a lame donkey. - -'Oh, what do you want?' grinned this old man, in a fierce, monotonous -whine. 'Oh, my eyes and limbs, what do you want? Oh, my lungs and liver, -what do you want? Oh, goroo, goroo!' - -I was so much dismayed by these words, and particularly by the -repetition of the last unknown one, which was a kind of rattle in his -throat, that I could make no answer; hereupon the old man, still holding -me by the hair, repeated: - -'Oh, what do you want? Oh, my eyes and limbs, what do you want? Oh, my -lungs and liver, what do you want? Oh, goroo!'--which he screwed out of -himself, with an energy that made his eyes start in his head. - -'I wanted to know,' I said, trembling, 'if you would buy a jacket.' - -'Oh, let's see the jacket!' cried the old man. 'Oh, my heart on fire, -show the jacket to us! Oh, my eyes and limbs, bring the jacket out!' - -With that he took his trembling hands, which were like the claws of a -great bird, out of my hair; and put on a pair of spectacles, not at all -ornamental to his inflamed eyes. - -'Oh, how much for the jacket?' cried the old man, after examining it. -'Oh--goroo!--how much for the jacket?' - -'Half-a-crown,' I answered, recovering myself. - -'Oh, my lungs and liver,' cried the old man, 'no! Oh, my eyes, no! Oh, -my limbs, no! Eighteenpence. Goroo!' - -Every time he uttered this ejaculation, his eyes seemed to be in danger -of starting out; and every sentence he spoke, he delivered in a sort -of tune, always exactly the same, and more like a gust of wind, which -begins low, mounts up high, and falls again, than any other comparison I -can find for it. - -'Well,' said I, glad to have closed the bargain, 'I'll take -eighteenpence.' - -'Oh, my liver!' cried the old man, throwing the jacket on a shelf. 'Get -out of the shop! Oh, my lungs, get out of the shop! Oh, my eyes and -limbs--goroo!--don't ask for money; make it an exchange.' I never was -so frightened in my life, before or since; but I told him humbly that -I wanted money, and that nothing else was of any use to me, but that I -would wait for it, as he desired, outside, and had no wish to hurry -him. So I went outside, and sat down in the shade in a corner. And I sat -there so many hours, that the shade became sunlight, and the sunlight -became shade again, and still I sat there waiting for the money. - -There never was such another drunken madman in that line of business, -I hope. That he was well known in the neighbourhood, and enjoyed the -reputation of having sold himself to the devil, I soon understood from -the visits he received from the boys, who continually came skirmishing -about the shop, shouting that legend, and calling to him to bring out -his gold. 'You ain't poor, you know, Charley, as you pretend. Bring out -your gold. Bring out some of the gold you sold yourself to the devil -for. Come! It's in the lining of the mattress, Charley. Rip it open -and let's have some!' This, and many offers to lend him a knife for -the purpose, exasperated him to such a degree, that the whole day was a -succession of rushes on his part, and flights on the part of the boys. -Sometimes in his rage he would take me for one of them, and come at me, -mouthing as if he were going to tear me in pieces; then, remembering -me, just in time, would dive into the shop, and lie upon his bed, as I -thought from the sound of his voice, yelling in a frantic way, to his -own windy tune, the 'Death of Nelson'; with an Oh! before every line, -and innumerable Goroos interspersed. As if this were not bad enough for -me, the boys, connecting me with the establishment, on account of the -patience and perseverance with which I sat outside, half-dressed, pelted -me, and used me very ill all day. - -He made many attempts to induce me to consent to an exchange; at one -time coming out with a fishing-rod, at another with a fiddle, at another -with a cocked hat, at another with a flute. But I resisted all these -overtures, and sat there in desperation; each time asking him, with -tears in my eyes, for my money or my jacket. At last he began to pay me -in halfpence at a time; and was full two hours getting by easy stages to -a shilling. - -'Oh, my eyes and limbs!' he then cried, peeping hideously out of the -shop, after a long pause, 'will you go for twopence more?' - -'I can't,' I said; 'I shall be starved.' - -'Oh, my lungs and liver, will you go for threepence?' - -'I would go for nothing, if I could,' I said, 'but I want the money -badly.' - -'Oh, go-roo!' (it is really impossible to express how he twisted this -ejaculation out of himself, as he peeped round the door-post at me, -showing nothing but his crafty old head); 'will you go for fourpence?' - -I was so faint and weary that I closed with this offer; and taking the -money out of his claw, not without trembling, went away more hungry and -thirsty than I had ever been, a little before sunset. But at an expense -of threepence I soon refreshed myself completely; and, being in better -spirits then, limped seven miles upon my road. - -My bed at night was under another haystack, where I rested comfortably, -after having washed my blistered feet in a stream, and dressed them as -well as I was able, with some cool leaves. When I took the road again -next morning, I found that it lay through a succession of hop-grounds -and orchards. It was sufficiently late in the year for the orchards -to be ruddy with ripe apples; and in a few places the hop-pickers were -already at work. I thought it all extremely beautiful, and made up -my mind to sleep among the hops that night: imagining some cheerful -companionship in the long perspectives of poles, with the graceful -leaves twining round them. - -The trampers were worse than ever that day, and inspired me with a -dread that is yet quite fresh in my mind. Some of them were most -ferocious-looking ruffians, who stared at me as I went by; and stopped, -perhaps, and called after me to come back and speak to them, and when I -took to my heels, stoned me. I recollect one young fellow--a tinker, I -suppose, from his wallet and brazier--who had a woman with him, and -who faced about and stared at me thus; and then roared to me in such a -tremendous voice to come back, that I halted and looked round. - -'Come here, when you're called,' said the tinker, 'or I'll rip your -young body open.' - -I thought it best to go back. As I drew nearer to them, trying to -propitiate the tinker by my looks, I observed that the woman had a black -eye. - -'Where are you going?' said the tinker, gripping the bosom of my shirt -with his blackened hand. - -'I am going to Dover,' I said. - -'Where do you come from?' asked the tinker, giving his hand another turn -in my shirt, to hold me more securely. - -'I come from London,' I said. - -'What lay are you upon?' asked the tinker. 'Are you a prig?' - -'N-no,' I said. - -'Ain't you, by G--? If you make a brag of your honesty to me,' said the -tinker, 'I'll knock your brains out.' - -With his disengaged hand he made a menace of striking me, and then -looked at me from head to foot. - -'Have you got the price of a pint of beer about you?' said the tinker. -'If you have, out with it, afore I take it away!' - -I should certainly have produced it, but that I met the woman's look, -and saw her very slightly shake her head, and form 'No!' with her lips. - -'I am very poor,' I said, attempting to smile, 'and have got no money.' - -'Why, what do you mean?' said the tinker, looking so sternly at me, that -I almost feared he saw the money in my pocket. - -'Sir!' I stammered. - -'What do you mean,' said the tinker, 'by wearing my brother's silk -handkerchief! Give it over here!' And he had mine off my neck in a -moment, and tossed it to the woman. - -The woman burst into a fit of laughter, as if she thought this a joke, -and tossed it back to me, nodded once, as slightly as before, and made -the word 'Go!' with her lips. Before I could obey, however, the tinker -seized the handkerchief out of my hand with a roughness that threw me -away like a feather, and putting it loosely round his own neck, turned -upon the woman with an oath, and knocked her down. I never shall forget -seeing her fall backward on the hard road, and lie there with her bonnet -tumbled off, and her hair all whitened in the dust; nor, when I looked -back from a distance, seeing her sitting on the pathway, which was a -bank by the roadside, wiping the blood from her face with a corner of -her shawl, while he went on ahead. - -This adventure frightened me so, that, afterwards, when I saw any of -these people coming, I turned back until I could find a hiding-place, -where I remained until they had gone out of sight; which happened so -often, that I was very seriously delayed. But under this difficulty, as -under all the other difficulties of my journey, I seemed to be sustained -and led on by my fanciful picture of my mother in her youth, before I -came into the world. It always kept me company. It was there, among -the hops, when I lay down to sleep; it was with me on my waking in the -morning; it went before me all day. I have associated it, ever since, -with the sunny street of Canterbury, dozing as it were in the hot light; -and with the sight of its old houses and gateways, and the stately, -grey Cathedral, with the rooks sailing round the towers. When I came, -at last, upon the bare, wide downs near Dover, it relieved the solitary -aspect of the scene with hope; and not until I reached that first great -aim of my journey, and actually set foot in the town itself, on the -sixth day of my flight, did it desert me. But then, strange to say, -when I stood with my ragged shoes, and my dusty, sunburnt, half-clothed -figure, in the place so long desired, it seemed to vanish like a dream, -and to leave me helpless and dispirited. - -I inquired about my aunt among the boatmen first, and received various -answers. One said she lived in the South Foreland Light, and had singed -her whiskers by doing so; another, that she was made fast to the great -buoy outside the harbour, and could only be visited at half-tide; a -third, that she was locked up in Maidstone jail for child-stealing; a -fourth, that she was seen to mount a broom in the last high wind, and -make direct for Calais. The fly-drivers, among whom I inquired next, -were equally jocose and equally disrespectful; and the shopkeepers, not -liking my appearance, generally replied, without hearing what I had -to say, that they had got nothing for me. I felt more miserable and -destitute than I had done at any period of my running away. My money was -all gone, I had nothing left to dispose of; I was hungry, thirsty, and -worn out; and seemed as distant from my end as if I had remained in -London. - -The morning had worn away in these inquiries, and I was sitting on -the step of an empty shop at a street corner, near the market-place, -deliberating upon wandering towards those other places which had been -mentioned, when a fly-driver, coming by with his carriage, dropped a -horsecloth. Something good-natured in the man's face, as I handed it up, -encouraged me to ask him if he could tell me where Miss Trotwood lived; -though I had asked the question so often, that it almost died upon my -lips. - -'Trotwood,' said he. 'Let me see. I know the name, too. Old lady?' - -'Yes,' I said, 'rather.' - -'Pretty stiff in the back?' said he, making himself upright. - -'Yes,' I said. 'I should think it very likely.' - -'Carries a bag?' said he--'bag with a good deal of room in it--is -gruffish, and comes down upon you, sharp?' - -My heart sank within me as I acknowledged the undoubted accuracy of this -description. - -'Why then, I tell you what,' said he. 'If you go up there,' pointing -with his whip towards the heights, 'and keep right on till you come to -some houses facing the sea, I think you'll hear of her. My opinion is -she won't stand anything, so here's a penny for you.' - -I accepted the gift thankfully, and bought a loaf with it. Dispatching -this refreshment by the way, I went in the direction my friend had -indicated, and walked on a good distance without coming to the houses -he had mentioned. At length I saw some before me; and approaching them, -went into a little shop (it was what we used to call a general shop, -at home), and inquired if they could have the goodness to tell me where -Miss Trotwood lived. I addressed myself to a man behind the counter, -who was weighing some rice for a young woman; but the latter, taking the -inquiry to herself, turned round quickly. - -'My mistress?' she said. 'What do you want with her, boy?' - -'I want,' I replied, 'to speak to her, if you please.' - -'To beg of her, you mean,' retorted the damsel. - -'No,' I said, 'indeed.' But suddenly remembering that in truth I came -for no other purpose, I held my peace in confusion, and felt my face -burn. - -My aunt's handmaid, as I supposed she was from what she had said, put -her rice in a little basket and walked out of the shop; telling me that -I could follow her, if I wanted to know where Miss Trotwood lived. I -needed no second permission; though I was by this time in such a state -of consternation and agitation, that my legs shook under me. I followed -the young woman, and we soon came to a very neat little cottage with -cheerful bow-windows: in front of it, a small square gravelled court or -garden full of flowers, carefully tended, and smelling deliciously. - -'This is Miss Trotwood's,' said the young woman. 'Now you know; and -that's all I have got to say.' With which words she hurried into the -house, as if to shake off the responsibility of my appearance; and left -me standing at the garden-gate, looking disconsolately over the top of -it towards the parlour window, where a muslin curtain partly undrawn -in the middle, a large round green screen or fan fastened on to the -windowsill, a small table, and a great chair, suggested to me that my -aunt might be at that moment seated in awful state. - -My shoes were by this time in a woeful condition. The soles had shed -themselves bit by bit, and the upper leathers had broken and burst until -the very shape and form of shoes had departed from them. My hat (which -had served me for a night-cap, too) was so crushed and bent, that no old -battered handleless saucepan on a dunghill need have been ashamed to vie -with it. My shirt and trousers, stained with heat, dew, grass, and -the Kentish soil on which I had slept--and torn besides--might have -frightened the birds from my aunt's garden, as I stood at the gate. My -hair had known no comb or brush since I left London. My face, neck, and -hands, from unaccustomed exposure to the air and sun, were burnt to a -berry-brown. From head to foot I was powdered almost as white with chalk -and dust, as if I had come out of a lime-kiln. In this plight, and with -a strong consciousness of it, I waited to introduce myself to, and make -my first impression on, my formidable aunt. - -The unbroken stillness of the parlour window leading me to infer, after -a while, that she was not there, I lifted up my eyes to the window above -it, where I saw a florid, pleasant-looking gentleman, with a grey head, -who shut up one eye in a grotesque manner, nodded his head at me several -times, shook it at me as often, laughed, and went away. - -I had been discomposed enough before; but I was so much the more -discomposed by this unexpected behaviour, that I was on the point of -slinking off, to think how I had best proceed, when there came out of -the house a lady with her handkerchief tied over her cap, and a pair -of gardening gloves on her hands, wearing a gardening pocket like a -toll-man's apron, and carrying a great knife. I knew her immediately -to be Miss Betsey, for she came stalking out of the house exactly as -my poor mother had so often described her stalking up our garden at -Blunderstone Rookery. - -'Go away!' said Miss Betsey, shaking her head, and making a distant chop -in the air with her knife. 'Go along! No boys here!' - -I watched her, with my heart at my lips, as she marched to a corner of -her garden, and stooped to dig up some little root there. Then, without -a scrap of courage, but with a great deal of desperation, I went softly -in and stood beside her, touching her with my finger. - -'If you please, ma'am,' I began. - -She started and looked up. - -'If you please, aunt.' - -'EH?' exclaimed Miss Betsey, in a tone of amazement I have never heard -approached. - -'If you please, aunt, I am your nephew.' - -'Oh, Lord!' said my aunt. And sat flat down in the garden-path. - -'I am David Copperfield, of Blunderstone, in Suffolk--where you came, -on the night when I was born, and saw my dear mama. I have been very -unhappy since she died. I have been slighted, and taught nothing, and -thrown upon myself, and put to work not fit for me. It made me run away -to you. I was robbed at first setting out, and have walked all the -way, and have never slept in a bed since I began the journey.' Here -my self-support gave way all at once; and with a movement of my hands, -intended to show her my ragged state, and call it to witness that I had -suffered something, I broke into a passion of crying, which I suppose -had been pent up within me all the week. - -My aunt, with every sort of expression but wonder discharged from her -countenance, sat on the gravel, staring at me, until I began to cry; -when she got up in a great hurry, collared me, and took me into the -parlour. Her first proceeding there was to unlock a tall press, bring -out several bottles, and pour some of the contents of each into my -mouth. I think they must have been taken out at random, for I am sure -I tasted aniseed water, anchovy sauce, and salad dressing. When she had -administered these restoratives, as I was still quite hysterical, and -unable to control my sobs, she put me on the sofa, with a shawl under -my head, and the handkerchief from her own head under my feet, lest I -should sully the cover; and then, sitting herself down behind the green -fan or screen I have already mentioned, so that I could not see her -face, ejaculated at intervals, 'Mercy on us!' letting those exclamations -off like minute guns. - -After a time she rang the bell. 'Janet,' said my aunt, when her servant -came in. 'Go upstairs, give my compliments to Mr. Dick, and say I wish -to speak to him.' - -Janet looked a little surprised to see me lying stiffly on the sofa (I -was afraid to move lest it should be displeasing to my aunt), but went -on her errand. My aunt, with her hands behind her, walked up and down -the room, until the gentleman who had squinted at me from the upper -window came in laughing. - -'Mr. Dick,' said my aunt, 'don't be a fool, because nobody can be more -discreet than you can, when you choose. We all know that. So don't be a -fool, whatever you are.' - -The gentleman was serious immediately, and looked at me, I thought, as -if he would entreat me to say nothing about the window. - -'Mr. Dick,' said my aunt, 'you have heard me mention David Copperfield? -Now don't pretend not to have a memory, because you and I know better.' - -'David Copperfield?' said Mr. Dick, who did not appear to me to -remember much about it. 'David Copperfield? Oh yes, to be sure. David, -certainly.' - -'Well,' said my aunt, 'this is his boy--his son. He would be as like his -father as it's possible to be, if he was not so like his mother, too.' - -'His son?' said Mr. Dick. 'David's son? Indeed!' - -'Yes,' pursued my aunt, 'and he has done a pretty piece of business. -He has run away. Ah! His sister, Betsey Trotwood, never would have run -away.' My aunt shook her head firmly, confident in the character and -behaviour of the girl who never was born. - -'Oh! you think she wouldn't have run away?' said Mr. Dick. - -'Bless and save the man,' exclaimed my aunt, sharply, 'how he talks! -Don't I know she wouldn't? She would have lived with her god-mother, -and we should have been devoted to one another. Where, in the name of -wonder, should his sister, Betsey Trotwood, have run from, or to?' - -'Nowhere,' said Mr. Dick. - -'Well then,' returned my aunt, softened by the reply, 'how can you -pretend to be wool-gathering, Dick, when you are as sharp as a surgeon's -lancet? Now, here you see young David Copperfield, and the question I -put to you is, what shall I do with him?' - -'What shall you do with him?' said Mr. Dick, feebly, scratching his -head. 'Oh! do with him?' - -'Yes,' said my aunt, with a grave look, and her forefinger held up. -'Come! I want some very sound advice.' - -'Why, if I was you,' said Mr. Dick, considering, and looking vacantly -at me, 'I should--' The contemplation of me seemed to inspire him with a -sudden idea, and he added, briskly, 'I should wash him!' - -'Janet,' said my aunt, turning round with a quiet triumph, which I did -not then understand, 'Mr. Dick sets us all right. Heat the bath!' - -Although I was deeply interested in this dialogue, I could not help -observing my aunt, Mr. Dick, and Janet, while it was in progress, and -completing a survey I had already been engaged in making of the room. - -My aunt was a tall, hard-featured lady, but by no means ill-looking. -There was an inflexibility in her face, in her voice, in her gait and -carriage, amply sufficient to account for the effect she had made upon -a gentle creature like my mother; but her features were rather handsome -than otherwise, though unbending and austere. I particularly noticed -that she had a very quick, bright eye. Her hair, which was grey, was -arranged in two plain divisions, under what I believe would be called a -mob-cap; I mean a cap, much more common then than now, with side-pieces -fastening under the chin. Her dress was of a lavender colour, and -perfectly neat; but scantily made, as if she desired to be as little -encumbered as possible. I remember that I thought it, in form, more like -a riding-habit with the superfluous skirt cut off, than anything else. -She wore at her side a gentleman's gold watch, if I might judge from its -size and make, with an appropriate chain and seals; she had some linen -at her throat not unlike a shirt-collar, and things at her wrists like -little shirt-wristbands. - -Mr. Dick, as I have already said, was grey-headed, and florid: I should -have said all about him, in saying so, had not his head been curiously -bowed--not by age; it reminded me of one of Mr. Creakle's boys' heads -after a beating--and his grey eyes prominent and large, with a strange -kind of watery brightness in them that made me, in combination with his -vacant manner, his submission to my aunt, and his childish delight when -she praised him, suspect him of being a little mad; though, if he were -mad, how he came to be there puzzled me extremely. He was dressed -like any other ordinary gentleman, in a loose grey morning coat and -waistcoat, and white trousers; and had his watch in his fob, and his -money in his pockets: which he rattled as if he were very proud of it. - -Janet was a pretty blooming girl, of about nineteen or twenty, and a -perfect picture of neatness. Though I made no further observation of -her at the moment, I may mention here what I did not discover until -afterwards, namely, that she was one of a series of protegees whom my -aunt had taken into her service expressly to educate in a renouncement -of mankind, and who had generally completed their abjuration by marrying -the baker. - -The room was as neat as Janet or my aunt. As I laid down my pen, a -moment since, to think of it, the air from the sea came blowing -in again, mixed with the perfume of the flowers; and I saw the -old-fashioned furniture brightly rubbed and polished, my aunt's -inviolable chair and table by the round green fan in the bow-window, the -drugget-covered carpet, the cat, the kettle-holder, the two canaries, -the old china, the punchbowl full of dried rose-leaves, the tall press -guarding all sorts of bottles and pots, and, wonderfully out of keeping -with the rest, my dusty self upon the sofa, taking note of everything. - -Janet had gone away to get the bath ready, when my aunt, to my great -alarm, became in one moment rigid with indignation, and had hardly voice -to cry out, 'Janet! Donkeys!' - -Upon which, Janet came running up the stairs as if the house were in -flames, darted out on a little piece of green in front, and warned off -two saddle-donkeys, lady-ridden, that had presumed to set hoof upon it; -while my aunt, rushing out of the house, seized the bridle of a third -animal laden with a bestriding child, turned him, led him forth from -those sacred precincts, and boxed the ears of the unlucky urchin in -attendance who had dared to profane that hallowed ground. - -To this hour I don't know whether my aunt had any lawful right of way -over that patch of green; but she had settled it in her own mind that -she had, and it was all the same to her. The one great outrage of her -life, demanding to be constantly avenged, was the passage of a donkey -over that immaculate spot. In whatever occupation she was engaged, -however interesting to her the conversation in which she was taking -part, a donkey turned the current of her ideas in a moment, and she was -upon him straight. Jugs of water, and watering-pots, were kept in secret -places ready to be discharged on the offending boys; sticks were laid -in ambush behind the door; sallies were made at all hours; and -incessant war prevailed. Perhaps this was an agreeable excitement to the -donkey-boys; or perhaps the more sagacious of the donkeys, understanding -how the case stood, delighted with constitutional obstinacy in coming -that way. I only know that there were three alarms before the bath was -ready; and that on the occasion of the last and most desperate of all, -I saw my aunt engage, single-handed, with a sandy-headed lad of fifteen, -and bump his sandy head against her own gate, before he seemed to -comprehend what was the matter. These interruptions were of the more -ridiculous to me, because she was giving me broth out of a table-spoon -at the time (having firmly persuaded herself that I was actually -starving, and must receive nourishment at first in very small -quantities), and, while my mouth was yet open to receive the spoon, she -would put it back into the basin, cry 'Janet! Donkeys!' and go out to -the assault. - -The bath was a great comfort. For I began to be sensible of acute pains -in my limbs from lying out in the fields, and was now so tired and low -that I could hardly keep myself awake for five minutes together. When I -had bathed, they (I mean my aunt and Janet) enrobed me in a shirt and a -pair of trousers belonging to Mr. Dick, and tied me up in two or three -great shawls. What sort of bundle I looked like, I don't know, but I -felt a very hot one. Feeling also very faint and drowsy, I soon lay down -on the sofa again and fell asleep. - -It might have been a dream, originating in the fancy which had occupied -my mind so long, but I awoke with the impression that my aunt had come -and bent over me, and had put my hair away from my face, and laid my -head more comfortably, and had then stood looking at me. The words, -'Pretty fellow,' or 'Poor fellow,' seemed to be in my ears, too; but -certainly there was nothing else, when I awoke, to lead me to believe -that they had been uttered by my aunt, who sat in the bow-window gazing -at the sea from behind the green fan, which was mounted on a kind of -swivel, and turned any way. - -We dined soon after I awoke, off a roast fowl and a pudding; I sitting -at table, not unlike a trussed bird myself, and moving my arms with -considerable difficulty. But as my aunt had swathed me up, I made no -complaint of being inconvenienced. All this time I was deeply anxious -to know what she was going to do with me; but she took her dinner in -profound silence, except when she occasionally fixed her eyes on me -sitting opposite, and said, 'Mercy upon us!' which did not by any means -relieve my anxiety. - -The cloth being drawn, and some sherry put upon the table (of which I -had a glass), my aunt sent up for Mr. Dick again, who joined us, and -looked as wise as he could when she requested him to attend to my story, -which she elicited from me, gradually, by a course of questions. During -my recital, she kept her eyes on Mr. Dick, who I thought would have gone -to sleep but for that, and who, whensoever he lapsed into a smile, was -checked by a frown from my aunt. - -'Whatever possessed that poor unfortunate Baby, that she must go and be -married again,' said my aunt, when I had finished, 'I can't conceive.' - -'Perhaps she fell in love with her second husband,' Mr. Dick suggested. - -'Fell in love!' repeated my aunt. 'What do you mean? What business had -she to do it?' - -'Perhaps,' Mr. Dick simpered, after thinking a little, 'she did it for -pleasure.' - -'Pleasure, indeed!' replied my aunt. 'A mighty pleasure for the poor -Baby to fix her simple faith upon any dog of a fellow, certain to -ill-use her in some way or other. What did she propose to herself, -I should like to know! She had had one husband. She had seen David -Copperfield out of the world, who was always running after wax dolls -from his cradle. She had got a baby--oh, there were a pair of babies -when she gave birth to this child sitting here, that Friday night!--and -what more did she want?' - -Mr. Dick secretly shook his head at me, as if he thought there was no -getting over this. - -'She couldn't even have a baby like anybody else,' said my aunt. 'Where -was this child's sister, Betsey Trotwood? Not forthcoming. Don't tell -me!' - -Mr. Dick seemed quite frightened. - -'That little man of a doctor, with his head on one side,' said my aunt, -'Jellips, or whatever his name was, what was he about? All he could do, -was to say to me, like a robin redbreast--as he is--"It's a boy." A boy! -Yah, the imbecility of the whole set of 'em!' - -The heartiness of the ejaculation startled Mr. Dick exceedingly; and me, -too, if I am to tell the truth. - -'And then, as if this was not enough, and she had not stood sufficiently -in the light of this child's sister, Betsey Trotwood,' said my aunt, -'she marries a second time--goes and marries a Murderer--or a man with -a name like it--and stands in THIS child's light! And the natural -consequence is, as anybody but a baby might have foreseen, that he -prowls and wanders. He's as like Cain before he was grown up, as he can -be.' - -Mr. Dick looked hard at me, as if to identify me in this character. - -'And then there's that woman with the Pagan name,' said my aunt, 'that -Peggotty, she goes and gets married next. Because she has not seen -enough of the evil attending such things, she goes and gets married -next, as the child relates. I only hope,' said my aunt, shaking her -head, 'that her husband is one of those Poker husbands who abound in the -newspapers, and will beat her well with one.' - -I could not bear to hear my old nurse so decried, and made the subject -of such a wish. I told my aunt that indeed she was mistaken. That -Peggotty was the best, the truest, the most faithful, most devoted, and -most self-denying friend and servant in the world; who had ever loved -me dearly, who had ever loved my mother dearly; who had held my mother's -dying head upon her arm, on whose face my mother had imprinted her last -grateful kiss. And my remembrance of them both, choking me, I broke down -as I was trying to say that her home was my home, and that all she had -was mine, and that I would have gone to her for shelter, but for her -humble station, which made me fear that I might bring some trouble on -her--I broke down, I say, as I was trying to say so, and laid my face in -my hands upon the table. - -'Well, well!' said my aunt, 'the child is right to stand by those who -have stood by him--Janet! Donkeys!' - -I thoroughly believe that but for those unfortunate donkeys, we should -have come to a good understanding; for my aunt had laid her hand on my -shoulder, and the impulse was upon me, thus emboldened, to embrace her -and beseech her protection. But the interruption, and the disorder she -was thrown into by the struggle outside, put an end to all softer ideas -for the present, and kept my aunt indignantly declaiming to Mr. Dick -about her determination to appeal for redress to the laws of her -country, and to bring actions for trespass against the whole donkey -proprietorship of Dover, until tea-time. - -After tea, we sat at the window--on the look-out, as I imagined, from -my aunt's sharp expression of face, for more invaders--until dusk, when -Janet set candles, and a backgammon-board, on the table, and pulled down -the blinds. - -'Now, Mr. Dick,' said my aunt, with her grave look, and her forefinger -up as before, 'I am going to ask you another question. Look at this -child.' - -'David's son?' said Mr. Dick, with an attentive, puzzled face. - -'Exactly so,' returned my aunt. 'What would you do with him, now?' - -'Do with David's son?' said Mr. Dick. - -'Ay,' replied my aunt, 'with David's son.' - -'Oh!' said Mr. Dick. 'Yes. Do with--I should put him to bed.' - -'Janet!' cried my aunt, with the same complacent triumph that I had -remarked before. 'Mr. Dick sets us all right. If the bed is ready, we'll -take him up to it.' - -Janet reporting it to be quite ready, I was taken up to it; kindly, but -in some sort like a prisoner; my aunt going in front and Janet bringing -up the rear. The only circumstance which gave me any new hope, was my -aunt's stopping on the stairs to inquire about a smell of fire that was -prevalent there; and janet's replying that she had been making tinder -down in the kitchen, of my old shirt. But there were no other clothes in -my room than the odd heap of things I wore; and when I was left there, -with a little taper which my aunt forewarned me would burn exactly five -minutes, I heard them lock my door on the outside. Turning these things -over in my mind I deemed it possible that my aunt, who could know -nothing of me, might suspect I had a habit of running away, and took -precautions, on that account, to have me in safe keeping. - -The room was a pleasant one, at the top of the house, overlooking the -sea, on which the moon was shining brilliantly. After I had said my -prayers, and the candle had burnt out, I remember how I still sat -looking at the moonlight on the water, as if I could hope to read my -fortune in it, as in a bright book; or to see my mother with her child, -coming from Heaven, along that shining path, to look upon me as she had -looked when I last saw her sweet face. I remember how the solemn feeling -with which at length I turned my eyes away, yielded to the sensation of -gratitude and rest which the sight of the white-curtained bed--and how -much more the lying softly down upon it, nestling in the snow-white -sheets!--inspired. I remember how I thought of all the solitary places -under the night sky where I had slept, and how I prayed that I never -might be houseless any more, and never might forget the houseless. I -remember how I seemed to float, then, down the melancholy glory of that -track upon the sea, away into the world of dreams. - - - -CHAPTER 14. MY AUNT MAKES UP HER MIND ABOUT ME - - -On going down in the morning, I found my aunt musing so profoundly over -the breakfast table, with her elbow on the tray, that the contents of -the urn had overflowed the teapot and were laying the whole table-cloth -under water, when my entrance put her meditations to flight. I felt sure -that I had been the subject of her reflections, and was more than ever -anxious to know her intentions towards me. Yet I dared not express my -anxiety, lest it should give her offence. - -My eyes, however, not being so much under control as my tongue, were -attracted towards my aunt very often during breakfast. I never could -look at her for a few moments together but I found her looking at me--in -an odd thoughtful manner, as if I were an immense way off, instead of -being on the other side of the small round table. When she had finished -her breakfast, my aunt very deliberately leaned back in her chair, -knitted her brows, folded her arms, and contemplated me at her leisure, -with such a fixedness of attention that I was quite overpowered by -embarrassment. Not having as yet finished my own breakfast, I attempted -to hide my confusion by proceeding with it; but my knife tumbled over my -fork, my fork tripped up my knife, I chipped bits of bacon a surprising -height into the air instead of cutting them for my own eating, and -choked myself with my tea, which persisted in going the wrong way -instead of the right one, until I gave in altogether, and sat blushing -under my aunt's close scrutiny. - -'Hallo!' said my aunt, after a long time. - -I looked up, and met her sharp bright glance respectfully. - -'I have written to him,' said my aunt. - -'To--?' - -'To your father-in-law,' said my aunt. 'I have sent him a letter that -I'll trouble him to attend to, or he and I will fall out, I can tell -him!' - -'Does he know where I am, aunt?' I inquired, alarmed. - -'I have told him,' said my aunt, with a nod. - -'Shall I--be--given up to him?' I faltered. - -'I don't know,' said my aunt. 'We shall see.' - -'Oh! I can't think what I shall do,' I exclaimed, 'if I have to go back -to Mr. Murdstone!' - -'I don't know anything about it,' said my aunt, shaking her head. 'I -can't say, I am sure. We shall see.' - -My spirits sank under these words, and I became very downcast and heavy -of heart. My aunt, without appearing to take much heed of me, put on a -coarse apron with a bib, which she took out of the press; washed up the -teacups with her own hands; and, when everything was washed and set in -the tray again, and the cloth folded and put on the top of the whole, -rang for Janet to remove it. She next swept up the crumbs with a little -broom (putting on a pair of gloves first), until there did not appear -to be one microscopic speck left on the carpet; next dusted and arranged -the room, which was dusted and arranged to a hair's breadth already. -When all these tasks were performed to her satisfaction, she took off -the gloves and apron, folded them up, put them in the particular corner -of the press from which they had been taken, brought out her work-box -to her own table in the open window, and sat down, with the green fan -between her and the light, to work. - -'I wish you'd go upstairs,' said my aunt, as she threaded her needle, -'and give my compliments to Mr. Dick, and I'll be glad to know how he -gets on with his Memorial.' - -I rose with all alacrity, to acquit myself of this commission. - -'I suppose,' said my aunt, eyeing me as narrowly as she had eyed the -needle in threading it, 'you think Mr. Dick a short name, eh?' - -'I thought it was rather a short name, yesterday,' I confessed. - -'You are not to suppose that he hasn't got a longer name, if he chose -to use it,' said my aunt, with a loftier air. 'Babley--Mr. Richard -Babley--that's the gentleman's true name.' - -I was going to suggest, with a modest sense of my youth and the -familiarity I had been already guilty of, that I had better give him the -full benefit of that name, when my aunt went on to say: - -'But don't you call him by it, whatever you do. He can't bear his name. -That's a peculiarity of his. Though I don't know that it's much of a -peculiarity, either; for he has been ill-used enough, by some that bear -it, to have a mortal antipathy for it, Heaven knows. Mr. Dick is his -name here, and everywhere else, now--if he ever went anywhere else, -which he don't. So take care, child, you don't call him anything BUT Mr. -Dick.' - -I promised to obey, and went upstairs with my message; thinking, as I -went, that if Mr. Dick had been working at his Memorial long, at the -same rate as I had seen him working at it, through the open door, when -I came down, he was probably getting on very well indeed. I found him -still driving at it with a long pen, and his head almost laid upon the -paper. He was so intent upon it, that I had ample leisure to observe the -large paper kite in a corner, the confusion of bundles of manuscript, -the number of pens, and, above all, the quantity of ink (which he seemed -to have in, in half-gallon jars by the dozen), before he observed my -being present. - -'Ha! Phoebus!' said Mr. Dick, laying down his pen. 'How does the world -go? I'll tell you what,' he added, in a lower tone, 'I shouldn't wish it -to be mentioned, but it's a--' here he beckoned to me, and put his lips -close to my ear--'it's a mad world. Mad as Bedlam, boy!' said Mr. Dick, -taking snuff from a round box on the table, and laughing heartily. - -Without presuming to give my opinion on this question, I delivered my -message. - -'Well,' said Mr. Dick, in answer, 'my compliments to her, and I--I -believe I have made a start. I think I have made a start,' said Mr. -Dick, passing his hand among his grey hair, and casting anything but a -confident look at his manuscript. 'You have been to school?' - -'Yes, sir,' I answered; 'for a short time.' - -'Do you recollect the date,' said Mr. Dick, looking earnestly at me, and -taking up his pen to note it down, 'when King Charles the First had his -head cut off?' I said I believed it happened in the year sixteen hundred -and forty-nine. - -'Well,' returned Mr. Dick, scratching his ear with his pen, and looking -dubiously at me. 'So the books say; but I don't see how that can be. -Because, if it was so long ago, how could the people about him have made -that mistake of putting some of the trouble out of his head, after it -was taken off, into mine?' - -I was very much surprised by the inquiry; but could give no information -on this point. - -'It's very strange,' said Mr. Dick, with a despondent look upon his -papers, and with his hand among his hair again, 'that I never can get -that quite right. I never can make that perfectly clear. But no matter, -no matter!' he said cheerfully, and rousing himself, 'there's time -enough! My compliments to Miss Trotwood, I am getting on very well -indeed.' - -I was going away, when he directed my attention to the kite. - -'What do you think of that for a kite?' he said. - -I answered that it was a beautiful one. I should think it must have been -as much as seven feet high. - -'I made it. We'll go and fly it, you and I,' said Mr. Dick. 'Do you see -this?' - -He showed me that it was covered with manuscript, very closely and -laboriously written; but so plainly, that as I looked along the lines, -I thought I saw some allusion to King Charles the First's head again, in -one or two places. - -'There's plenty of string,' said Mr. Dick, 'and when it flies high, it -takes the facts a long way. That's my manner of diffusing 'em. I don't -know where they may come down. It's according to circumstances, and the -wind, and so forth; but I take my chance of that.' - -His face was so very mild and pleasant, and had something so reverend in -it, though it was hale and hearty, that I was not sure but that he was -having a good-humoured jest with me. So I laughed, and he laughed, and -we parted the best friends possible. - -'Well, child,' said my aunt, when I went downstairs. 'And what of Mr. -Dick, this morning?' - -I informed her that he sent his compliments, and was getting on very -well indeed. - -'What do you think of him?' said my aunt. - -I had some shadowy idea of endeavouring to evade the question, by -replying that I thought him a very nice gentleman; but my aunt was -not to be so put off, for she laid her work down in her lap, and said, -folding her hands upon it: - -'Come! Your sister Betsey Trotwood would have told me what she thought -of anyone, directly. Be as like your sister as you can, and speak out!' - -'Is he--is Mr. Dick--I ask because I don't know, aunt--is he at all out -of his mind, then?' I stammered; for I felt I was on dangerous ground. - -'Not a morsel,' said my aunt. - -'Oh, indeed!' I observed faintly. - -'If there is anything in the world,' said my aunt, with great decision -and force of manner, 'that Mr. Dick is not, it's that.' - -I had nothing better to offer, than another timid, 'Oh, indeed!' - -'He has been CALLED mad,' said my aunt. 'I have a selfish pleasure in -saying he has been called mad, or I should not have had the benefit of -his society and advice for these last ten years and upwards--in fact, -ever since your sister, Betsey Trotwood, disappointed me.' - -'So long as that?' I said. - -'And nice people they were, who had the audacity to call him mad,' -pursued my aunt. 'Mr. Dick is a sort of distant connexion of mine--it -doesn't matter how; I needn't enter into that. If it hadn't been for me, -his own brother would have shut him up for life. That's all.' - -I am afraid it was hypocritical in me, but seeing that my aunt felt -strongly on the subject, I tried to look as if I felt strongly too. - -'A proud fool!' said my aunt. 'Because his brother was a little -eccentric--though he is not half so eccentric as a good many people--he -didn't like to have him visible about his house, and sent him away to -some private asylum-place: though he had been left to his particular -care by their deceased father, who thought him almost a natural. And a -wise man he must have been to think so! Mad himself, no doubt.' - -Again, as my aunt looked quite convinced, I endeavoured to look quite -convinced also. - -'So I stepped in,' said my aunt, 'and made him an offer. I said, "Your -brother's sane--a great deal more sane than you are, or ever will be, it -is to be hoped. Let him have his little income, and come and live with -me. I am not afraid of him, I am not proud, I am ready to take care -of him, and shall not ill-treat him as some people (besides the -asylum-folks) have done." After a good deal of squabbling,' said my -aunt, 'I got him; and he has been here ever since. He is the most -friendly and amenable creature in existence; and as for advice!--But -nobody knows what that man's mind is, except myself.' - -My aunt smoothed her dress and shook her head, as if she smoothed -defiance of the whole world out of the one, and shook it out of the -other. - -'He had a favourite sister,' said my aunt, 'a good creature, and very -kind to him. But she did what they all do--took a husband. And HE did -what they all do--made her wretched. It had such an effect upon the mind -of Mr. Dick (that's not madness, I hope!) that, combined with his fear -of his brother, and his sense of his unkindness, it threw him into a -fever. That was before he came to me, but the recollection of it is -oppressive to him even now. Did he say anything to you about King -Charles the First, child?' - -'Yes, aunt.' - -'Ah!' said my aunt, rubbing her nose as if she were a little vexed. -'That's his allegorical way of expressing it. He connects his illness -with great disturbance and agitation, naturally, and that's the figure, -or the simile, or whatever it's called, which he chooses to use. And why -shouldn't he, if he thinks proper!' - -I said: 'Certainly, aunt.' - -'It's not a business-like way of speaking,' said my aunt, 'nor a worldly -way. I am aware of that; and that's the reason why I insist upon it, -that there shan't be a word about it in his Memorial.' - -'Is it a Memorial about his own history that he is writing, aunt?' - -'Yes, child,' said my aunt, rubbing her nose again. 'He is memorializing -the Lord Chancellor, or the Lord Somebody or other--one of those people, -at all events, who are paid to be memorialized--about his affairs. I -suppose it will go in, one of these days. He hasn't been able to draw -it up yet, without introducing that mode of expressing himself; but it -don't signify; it keeps him employed.' - -In fact, I found out afterwards that Mr. Dick had been for upwards -of ten years endeavouring to keep King Charles the First out of the -Memorial; but he had been constantly getting into it, and was there now. - -'I say again,' said my aunt, 'nobody knows what that man's mind is -except myself; and he's the most amenable and friendly creature in -existence. If he likes to fly a kite sometimes, what of that! Franklin -used to fly a kite. He was a Quaker, or something of that sort, if I -am not mistaken. And a Quaker flying a kite is a much more ridiculous -object than anybody else.' - -If I could have supposed that my aunt had recounted these particulars -for my especial behoof, and as a piece of confidence in me, I should -have felt very much distinguished, and should have augured favourably -from such a mark of her good opinion. But I could hardly help observing -that she had launched into them, chiefly because the question was raised -in her own mind, and with very little reference to me, though she had -addressed herself to me in the absence of anybody else. - -At the same time, I must say that the generosity of her championship -of poor harmless Mr. Dick, not only inspired my young breast with -some selfish hope for myself, but warmed it unselfishly towards her. -I believe that I began to know that there was something about my aunt, -notwithstanding her many eccentricities and odd humours, to be honoured -and trusted in. Though she was just as sharp that day as on the day -before, and was in and out about the donkeys just as often, and was -thrown into a tremendous state of indignation, when a young man, going -by, ogled Janet at a window (which was one of the gravest misdemeanours -that could be committed against my aunt's dignity), she seemed to me to -command more of my respect, if not less of my fear. - -The anxiety I underwent, in the interval which necessarily elapsed -before a reply could be received to her letter to Mr. Murdstone, was -extreme; but I made an endeavour to suppress it, and to be as agreeable -as I could in a quiet way, both to my aunt and Mr. Dick. The latter and -I would have gone out to fly the great kite; but that I had still no -other clothes than the anything but ornamental garments with which I -had been decorated on the first day, and which confined me to the house, -except for an hour after dark, when my aunt, for my health's sake, -paraded me up and down on the cliff outside, before going to bed. At -length the reply from Mr. Murdstone came, and my aunt informed me, to my -infinite terror, that he was coming to speak to her herself on the next -day. On the next day, still bundled up in my curious habiliments, I sat -counting the time, flushed and heated by the conflict of sinking hopes -and rising fears within me; and waiting to be startled by the sight of -the gloomy face, whose non-arrival startled me every minute. - -My aunt was a little more imperious and stern than usual, but I observed -no other token of her preparing herself to receive the visitor so much -dreaded by me. She sat at work in the window, and I sat by, with my -thoughts running astray on all possible and impossible results of Mr. -Murdstone's visit, until pretty late in the afternoon. Our dinner had -been indefinitely postponed; but it was growing so late, that my aunt -had ordered it to be got ready, when she gave a sudden alarm of donkeys, -and to my consternation and amazement, I beheld Miss Murdstone, on a -side-saddle, ride deliberately over the sacred piece of green, and stop -in front of the house, looking about her. - -'Go along with you!' cried my aunt, shaking her head and her fist at the -window. 'You have no business there. How dare you trespass? Go along! -Oh! you bold-faced thing!' - -My aunt was so exasperated by the coolness with which Miss Murdstone -looked about her, that I really believe she was motionless, and unable -for the moment to dart out according to custom. I seized the opportunity -to inform her who it was; and that the gentleman now coming near the -offender (for the way up was very steep, and he had dropped behind), was -Mr. Murdstone himself. - -'I don't care who it is!' cried my aunt, still shaking her head and -gesticulating anything but welcome from the bow-window. 'I won't be -trespassed upon. I won't allow it. Go away! Janet, turn him round. -Lead him off!' and I saw, from behind my aunt, a sort of hurried -battle-piece, in which the donkey stood resisting everybody, with all -his four legs planted different ways, while Janet tried to pull him -round by the bridle, Mr. Murdstone tried to lead him on, Miss Murdstone -struck at Janet with a parasol, and several boys, who had come to see -the engagement, shouted vigorously. But my aunt, suddenly descrying -among them the young malefactor who was the donkey's guardian, and who -was one of the most inveterate offenders against her, though hardly in -his teens, rushed out to the scene of action, pounced upon him, captured -him, dragged him, with his jacket over his head, and his heels grinding -the ground, into the garden, and, calling upon Janet to fetch the -constables and justices, that he might be taken, tried, and executed on -the spot, held him at bay there. This part of the business, however, did -not last long; for the young rascal, being expert at a variety of feints -and dodges, of which my aunt had no conception, soon went whooping away, -leaving some deep impressions of his nailed boots in the flower-beds, -and taking his donkey in triumph with him. - -Miss Murdstone, during the latter portion of the contest, had -dismounted, and was now waiting with her brother at the bottom of the -steps, until my aunt should be at leisure to receive them. My aunt, a -little ruffled by the combat, marched past them into the house, with -great dignity, and took no notice of their presence, until they were -announced by Janet. - -'Shall I go away, aunt?' I asked, trembling. - -'No, sir,' said my aunt. 'Certainly not!' With which she pushed me into -a corner near her, and fenced Me in with a chair, as if it were a prison -or a bar of justice. This position I continued to occupy during the -whole interview, and from it I now saw Mr. and Miss Murdstone enter the -room. - -'Oh!' said my aunt, 'I was not aware at first to whom I had the pleasure -of objecting. But I don't allow anybody to ride over that turf. I make -no exceptions. I don't allow anybody to do it.' - -'Your regulation is rather awkward to strangers,' said Miss Murdstone. - -'Is it!' said my aunt. - -Mr. Murdstone seemed afraid of a renewal of hostilities, and interposing -began: - -'Miss Trotwood!' - -'I beg your pardon,' observed my aunt with a keen look. 'You are the Mr. -Murdstone who married the widow of my late nephew, David Copperfield, of -Blunderstone Rookery!--Though why Rookery, I don't know!' - -'I am,' said Mr. Murdstone. - -'You'll excuse my saying, sir,' returned my aunt, 'that I think it would -have been a much better and happier thing if you had left that poor -child alone.' - -'I so far agree with what Miss Trotwood has remarked,' observed Miss -Murdstone, bridling, 'that I consider our lamented Clara to have been, -in all essential respects, a mere child.' - -'It is a comfort to you and me, ma'am,' said my aunt, 'who are getting -on in life, and are not likely to be made unhappy by our personal -attractions, that nobody can say the same of us.' - -'No doubt!' returned Miss Murdstone, though, I thought, not with a very -ready or gracious assent. 'And it certainly might have been, as you say, -a better and happier thing for my brother if he had never entered into -such a marriage. I have always been of that opinion.' - -'I have no doubt you have,' said my aunt. 'Janet,' ringing the bell, 'my -compliments to Mr. Dick, and beg him to come down.' - -Until he came, my aunt sat perfectly upright and stiff, frowning at the -wall. When he came, my aunt performed the ceremony of introduction. - -'Mr. Dick. An old and intimate friend. On whose judgement,' said my -aunt, with emphasis, as an admonition to Mr. Dick, who was biting his -forefinger and looking rather foolish, 'I rely.' - -Mr. Dick took his finger out of his mouth, on this hint, and stood among -the group, with a grave and attentive expression of face. - -My aunt inclined her head to Mr. Murdstone, who went on: - -'Miss Trotwood: on the receipt of your letter, I considered it an act of -greater justice to myself, and perhaps of more respect to you--' - -'Thank you,' said my aunt, still eyeing him keenly. 'You needn't mind -me.' - -'To answer it in person, however inconvenient the journey,' pursued Mr. -Murdstone, 'rather than by letter. This unhappy boy who has run away -from his friends and his occupation--' - -'And whose appearance,' interposed his sister, directing general -attention to me in my indefinable costume, 'is perfectly scandalous and -disgraceful.' - -'Jane Murdstone,' said her brother, 'have the goodness not to interrupt -me. This unhappy boy, Miss Trotwood, has been the occasion of much -domestic trouble and uneasiness; both during the lifetime of my late -dear wife, and since. He has a sullen, rebellious spirit; a violent -temper; and an untoward, intractable disposition. Both my sister and -myself have endeavoured to correct his vices, but ineffectually. And -I have felt--we both have felt, I may say; my sister being fully in -my confidence--that it is right you should receive this grave and -dispassionate assurance from our lips.' - -'It can hardly be necessary for me to confirm anything stated by my -brother,' said Miss Murdstone; 'but I beg to observe, that, of all the -boys in the world, I believe this is the worst boy.' - -'Strong!' said my aunt, shortly. - -'But not at all too strong for the facts,' returned Miss Murdstone. - -'Ha!' said my aunt. 'Well, sir?' - -'I have my own opinions,' resumed Mr. Murdstone, whose face darkened -more and more, the more he and my aunt observed each other, which they -did very narrowly, 'as to the best mode of bringing him up; they are -founded, in part, on my knowledge of him, and in part on my knowledge of -my own means and resources. I am responsible for them to myself, I act -upon them, and I say no more about them. It is enough that I place this -boy under the eye of a friend of my own, in a respectable business; -that it does not please him; that he runs away from it; makes himself a -common vagabond about the country; and comes here, in rags, to appeal -to you, Miss Trotwood. I wish to set before you, honourably, the exact -consequences--so far as they are within my knowledge--of your abetting -him in this appeal.' - -'But about the respectable business first,' said my aunt. 'If he had -been your own boy, you would have put him to it, just the same, I -suppose?' - -'If he had been my brother's own boy,' returned Miss Murdstone, striking -in, 'his character, I trust, would have been altogether different.' - -'Or if the poor child, his mother, had been alive, he would still have -gone into the respectable business, would he?' said my aunt. - -'I believe,' said Mr. Murdstone, with an inclination of his head, -'that Clara would have disputed nothing which myself and my sister Jane -Murdstone were agreed was for the best.' - -Miss Murdstone confirmed this with an audible murmur. - -'Humph!' said my aunt. 'Unfortunate baby!' - -Mr. Dick, who had been rattling his money all this time, was rattling it -so loudly now, that my aunt felt it necessary to check him with a look, -before saying: - -'The poor child's annuity died with her?' - -'Died with her,' replied Mr. Murdstone. - -'And there was no settlement of the little property--the house and -garden--the what's-its-name Rookery without any rooks in it--upon her -boy?' - -'It had been left to her, unconditionally, by her first husband,' -Mr. Murdstone began, when my aunt caught him up with the greatest -irascibility and impatience. - -'Good Lord, man, there's no occasion to say that. Left to her -unconditionally! I think I see David Copperfield looking forward to any -condition of any sort or kind, though it stared him point-blank in the -face! Of course it was left to her unconditionally. But when she married -again--when she took that most disastrous step of marrying you, in -short,' said my aunt, 'to be plain--did no one put in a word for the boy -at that time?' - -'My late wife loved her second husband, ma'am,' said Mr. Murdstone, 'and -trusted implicitly in him.' - -'Your late wife, sir, was a most unworldly, most unhappy, most -unfortunate baby,' returned my aunt, shaking her head at him. 'That's -what she was. And now, what have you got to say next?' - -'Merely this, Miss Trotwood,' he returned. 'I am here to take David -back--to take him back unconditionally, to dispose of him as I think -proper, and to deal with him as I think right. I am not here to make any -promise, or give any pledge to anybody. You may possibly have some -idea, Miss Trotwood, of abetting him in his running away, and in his -complaints to you. Your manner, which I must say does not seem intended -to propitiate, induces me to think it possible. Now I must caution you -that if you abet him once, you abet him for good and all; if you step -in between him and me, now, you must step in, Miss Trotwood, for ever. -I cannot trifle, or be trifled with. I am here, for the first and last -time, to take him away. Is he ready to go? If he is not--and you tell me -he is not; on any pretence; it is indifferent to me what--my doors are -shut against him henceforth, and yours, I take it for granted, are open -to him.' - -To this address, my aunt had listened with the closest attention, -sitting perfectly upright, with her hands folded on one knee, and -looking grimly on the speaker. When he had finished, she turned her -eyes so as to command Miss Murdstone, without otherwise disturbing her -attitude, and said: - -'Well, ma'am, have YOU got anything to remark?' - -'Indeed, Miss Trotwood,' said Miss Murdstone, 'all that I could say has -been so well said by my brother, and all that I know to be the fact -has been so plainly stated by him, that I have nothing to add except my -thanks for your politeness. For your very great politeness, I am sure,' -said Miss Murdstone; with an irony which no more affected my aunt, than -it discomposed the cannon I had slept by at Chatham. - -'And what does the boy say?' said my aunt. 'Are you ready to go, David?' - -I answered no, and entreated her not to let me go. I said that neither -Mr. nor Miss Murdstone had ever liked me, or had ever been kind to me. -That they had made my mama, who always loved me dearly, unhappy about -me, and that I knew it well, and that Peggotty knew it. I said that I -had been more miserable than I thought anybody could believe, who only -knew how young I was. And I begged and prayed my aunt--I forget in -what terms now, but I remember that they affected me very much then--to -befriend and protect me, for my father's sake. - -'Mr. Dick,' said my aunt, 'what shall I do with this child?' - -Mr. Dick considered, hesitated, brightened, and rejoined, 'Have him -measured for a suit of clothes directly.' - -'Mr. Dick,' said my aunt triumphantly, 'give me your hand, for your -common sense is invaluable.' Having shaken it with great cordiality, she -pulled me towards her and said to Mr. Murdstone: - -'You can go when you like; I'll take my chance with the boy. If he's all -you say he is, at least I can do as much for him then, as you have done. -But I don't believe a word of it.' - -'Miss Trotwood,' rejoined Mr. Murdstone, shrugging his shoulders, as he -rose, 'if you were a gentleman--' - -'Bah! Stuff and nonsense!' said my aunt. 'Don't talk to me!' - -'How exquisitely polite!' exclaimed Miss Murdstone, rising. -'Overpowering, really!' - -'Do you think I don't know,' said my aunt, turning a deaf ear to the -sister, and continuing to address the brother, and to shake her head at -him with infinite expression, 'what kind of life you must have led that -poor, unhappy, misdirected baby? Do you think I don't know what a woeful -day it was for the soft little creature when you first came in her -way--smirking and making great eyes at her, I'll be bound, as if you -couldn't say boh! to a goose!' - -'I never heard anything so elegant!' said Miss Murdstone. - -'Do you think I can't understand you as well as if I had seen you,' -pursued my aunt, 'now that I DO see and hear you--which, I tell you -candidly, is anything but a pleasure to me? Oh yes, bless us! who so -smooth and silky as Mr. Murdstone at first! The poor, benighted innocent -had never seen such a man. He was made of sweetness. He worshipped her. -He doted on her boy--tenderly doted on him! He was to be another father -to him, and they were all to live together in a garden of roses, weren't -they? Ugh! Get along with you, do!' said my aunt. - -'I never heard anything like this person in my life!' exclaimed Miss -Murdstone. - -'And when you had made sure of the poor little fool,' said my aunt--'God -forgive me that I should call her so, and she gone where YOU won't go in -a hurry--because you had not done wrong enough to her and hers, you -must begin to train her, must you? begin to break her, like a poor -caged bird, and wear her deluded life away, in teaching her to sing YOUR -notes?' - -'This is either insanity or intoxication,' said Miss Murdstone, in a -perfect agony at not being able to turn the current of my aunt's address -towards herself; 'and my suspicion is that it's intoxication.' - -Miss Betsey, without taking the least notice of the interruption, -continued to address herself to Mr. Murdstone as if there had been no -such thing. - -'Mr. Murdstone,' she said, shaking her finger at him, 'you were a tyrant -to the simple baby, and you broke her heart. She was a loving baby--I -know that; I knew it, years before you ever saw her--and through the -best part of her weakness you gave her the wounds she died of. There -is the truth for your comfort, however you like it. And you and your -instruments may make the most of it.' - -'Allow me to inquire, Miss Trotwood,' interposed Miss Murdstone, -'whom you are pleased to call, in a choice of words in which I am not -experienced, my brother's instruments?' - -'It was clear enough, as I have told you, years before YOU ever saw -her--and why, in the mysterious dispensations of Providence, you ever -did see her, is more than humanity can comprehend--it was clear enough -that the poor soft little thing would marry somebody, at some time or -other; but I did hope it wouldn't have been as bad as it has turned out. -That was the time, Mr. Murdstone, when she gave birth to her boy here,' -said my aunt; 'to the poor child you sometimes tormented her through -afterwards, which is a disagreeable remembrance and makes the sight of -him odious now. Aye, aye! you needn't wince!' said my aunt. 'I know it's -true without that.' - -He had stood by the door, all this while, observant of her with a smile -upon his face, though his black eyebrows were heavily contracted. I -remarked now, that, though the smile was on his face still, his colour -had gone in a moment, and he seemed to breathe as if he had been -running. - -'Good day, sir,' said my aunt, 'and good-bye! Good day to you, too, -ma'am,' said my aunt, turning suddenly upon his sister. 'Let me see you -ride a donkey over my green again, and as sure as you have a head upon -your shoulders, I'll knock your bonnet off, and tread upon it!' - -It would require a painter, and no common painter too, to depict my -aunt's face as she delivered herself of this very unexpected sentiment, -and Miss Murdstone's face as she heard it. But the manner of the speech, -no less than the matter, was so fiery, that Miss Murdstone, without a -word in answer, discreetly put her arm through her brother's, and walked -haughtily out of the cottage; my aunt remaining in the window looking -after them; prepared, I have no doubt, in case of the donkey's -reappearance, to carry her threat into instant execution. - -No attempt at defiance being made, however, her face gradually relaxed, -and became so pleasant, that I was emboldened to kiss and thank her; -which I did with great heartiness, and with both my arms clasped round -her neck. I then shook hands with Mr. Dick, who shook hands with me a -great many times, and hailed this happy close of the proceedings with -repeated bursts of laughter. - -'You'll consider yourself guardian, jointly with me, of this child, Mr. -Dick,' said my aunt. - -'I shall be delighted,' said Mr. Dick, 'to be the guardian of David's -son.' - -'Very good,' returned my aunt, 'that's settled. I have been thinking, do -you know, Mr. Dick, that I might call him Trotwood?' - -'Certainly, certainly. Call him Trotwood, certainly,' said Mr. Dick. -'David's son's Trotwood.' - -'Trotwood Copperfield, you mean,' returned my aunt. - -'Yes, to be sure. Yes. Trotwood Copperfield,' said Mr. Dick, a little -abashed. - -My aunt took so kindly to the notion, that some ready-made clothes, -which were purchased for me that afternoon, were marked 'Trotwood -Copperfield', in her own handwriting, and in indelible marking-ink, -before I put them on; and it was settled that all the other clothes -which were ordered to be made for me (a complete outfit was bespoke that -afternoon) should be marked in the same way. - -Thus I began my new life, in a new name, and with everything new about -me. Now that the state of doubt was over, I felt, for many days, -like one in a dream. I never thought that I had a curious couple of -guardians, in my aunt and Mr. Dick. I never thought of anything about -myself, distinctly. The two things clearest in my mind were, that a -remoteness had come upon the old Blunderstone life--which seemed to lie -in the haze of an immeasurable distance; and that a curtain had for ever -fallen on my life at Murdstone and Grinby's. No one has ever raised that -curtain since. I have lifted it for a moment, even in this narrative, -with a reluctant hand, and dropped it gladly. The remembrance of that -life is fraught with so much pain to me, with so much mental suffering -and want of hope, that I have never had the courage even to examine how -long I was doomed to lead it. Whether it lasted for a year, or more, or -less, I do not know. I only know that it was, and ceased to be; and that -I have written, and there I leave it. - - - -CHAPTER 15. I MAKE ANOTHER BEGINNING - - -Mr. Dick and I soon became the best of friends, and very often, when his -day's work was done, went out together to fly the great kite. Every day -of his life he had a long sitting at the Memorial, which never made the -least progress, however hard he laboured, for King Charles the First -always strayed into it, sooner or later, and then it was thrown aside, -and another one begun. The patience and hope with which he bore these -perpetual disappointments, the mild perception he had that there was -something wrong about King Charles the First, the feeble efforts he made -to keep him out, and the certainty with which he came in, and tumbled -the Memorial out of all shape, made a deep impression on me. What Mr. -Dick supposed would come of the Memorial, if it were completed; where he -thought it was to go, or what he thought it was to do; he knew no more -than anybody else, I believe. Nor was it at all necessary that he should -trouble himself with such questions, for if anything were certain under -the sun, it was certain that the Memorial never would be finished. It -was quite an affecting sight, I used to think, to see him with the kite -when it was up a great height in the air. What he had told me, in his -room, about his belief in its disseminating the statements pasted on it, -which were nothing but old leaves of abortive Memorials, might have been -a fancy with him sometimes; but not when he was out, looking up at -the kite in the sky, and feeling it pull and tug at his hand. He never -looked so serene as he did then. I used to fancy, as I sat by him of an -evening, on a green slope, and saw him watch the kite high in the quiet -air, that it lifted his mind out of its confusion, and bore it (such was -my boyish thought) into the skies. As he wound the string in and it came -lower and lower down out of the beautiful light, until it fluttered to -the ground, and lay there like a dead thing, he seemed to wake gradually -out of a dream; and I remember to have seen him take it up, and look -about him in a lost way, as if they had both come down together, so that -I pitied him with all my heart. - -While I advanced in friendship and intimacy with Mr. Dick, I did not -go backward in the favour of his staunch friend, my aunt. She took -so kindly to me, that, in the course of a few weeks, she shortened my -adopted name of Trotwood into Trot; and even encouraged me to hope, that -if I went on as I had begun, I might take equal rank in her affections -with my sister Betsey Trotwood. - -'Trot,' said my aunt one evening, when the backgammon-board was placed -as usual for herself and Mr. Dick, 'we must not forget your education.' - -This was my only subject of anxiety, and I felt quite delighted by her -referring to it. - -'Should you like to go to school at Canterbury?' said my aunt. - -I replied that I should like it very much, as it was so near her. - -'Good,' said my aunt. 'Should you like to go tomorrow?' - -Being already no stranger to the general rapidity of my aunt's -evolutions, I was not surprised by the suddenness of the proposal, and -said: 'Yes.' - -'Good,' said my aunt again. 'Janet, hire the grey pony and chaise -tomorrow morning at ten o'clock, and pack up Master Trotwood's clothes -tonight.' - -I was greatly elated by these orders; but my heart smote me for my -selfishness, when I witnessed their effect on Mr. Dick, who was so -low-spirited at the prospect of our separation, and played so ill in -consequence, that my aunt, after giving him several admonitory raps on -the knuckles with her dice-box, shut up the board, and declined to play -with him any more. But, on hearing from my aunt that I should sometimes -come over on a Saturday, and that he could sometimes come and see me -on a Wednesday, he revived; and vowed to make another kite for those -occasions, of proportions greatly surpassing the present one. In the -morning he was downhearted again, and would have sustained himself by -giving me all the money he had in his possession, gold and silver too, -if my aunt had not interposed, and limited the gift to five shillings, -which, at his earnest petition, were afterwards increased to ten. We -parted at the garden-gate in a most affectionate manner, and Mr. Dick -did not go into the house until my aunt had driven me out of sight of -it. - -My aunt, who was perfectly indifferent to public opinion, drove the grey -pony through Dover in a masterly manner; sitting high and stiff like -a state coachman, keeping a steady eye upon him wherever he went, and -making a point of not letting him have his own way in any respect. When -we came into the country road, she permitted him to relax a little, -however; and looking at me down in a valley of cushion by her side, -asked me whether I was happy? - -'Very happy indeed, thank you, aunt,' I said. - -She was much gratified; and both her hands being occupied, patted me on -the head with her whip. - -'Is it a large school, aunt?' I asked. - -'Why, I don't know,' said my aunt. 'We are going to Mr. Wickfield's -first.' - -'Does he keep a school?' I asked. - -'No, Trot,' said my aunt. 'He keeps an office.' - -I asked for no more information about Mr. Wickfield, as she offered -none, and we conversed on other subjects until we came to Canterbury, -where, as it was market-day, my aunt had a great opportunity of -insinuating the grey pony among carts, baskets, vegetables, and -huckster's goods. The hair-breadth turns and twists we made, drew down -upon us a variety of speeches from the people standing about, which -were not always complimentary; but my aunt drove on with perfect -indifference, and I dare say would have taken her own way with as much -coolness through an enemy's country. - -At length we stopped before a very old house bulging out over the road; -a house with long low lattice-windows bulging out still farther, and -beams with carved heads on the ends bulging out too, so that I fancied -the whole house was leaning forward, trying to see who was passing on -the narrow pavement below. It was quite spotless in its cleanliness. -The old-fashioned brass knocker on the low arched door, ornamented with -carved garlands of fruit and flowers, twinkled like a star; the two -stone steps descending to the door were as white as if they had been -covered with fair linen; and all the angles and corners, and carvings -and mouldings, and quaint little panes of glass, and quainter little -windows, though as old as the hills, were as pure as any snow that ever -fell upon the hills. - -When the pony-chaise stopped at the door, and my eyes were intent upon -the house, I saw a cadaverous face appear at a small window on the -ground floor (in a little round tower that formed one side of the -house), and quickly disappear. The low arched door then opened, and -the face came out. It was quite as cadaverous as it had looked in the -window, though in the grain of it there was that tinge of red which is -sometimes to be observed in the skins of red-haired people. It belonged -to a red-haired person--a youth of fifteen, as I take it now, but -looking much older--whose hair was cropped as close as the closest -stubble; who had hardly any eyebrows, and no eyelashes, and eyes of a -red-brown, so unsheltered and unshaded, that I remember wondering how he -went to sleep. He was high-shouldered and bony; dressed in decent black, -with a white wisp of a neckcloth; buttoned up to the throat; and had a -long, lank, skeleton hand, which particularly attracted my attention, as -he stood at the pony's head, rubbing his chin with it, and looking up at -us in the chaise. - -'Is Mr. Wickfield at home, Uriah Heep?' said my aunt. - -'Mr. Wickfield's at home, ma'am,' said Uriah Heep, 'if you'll please to -walk in there'--pointing with his long hand to the room he meant. - -We got out; and leaving him to hold the pony, went into a long low -parlour looking towards the street, from the window of which I caught a -glimpse, as I went in, of Uriah Heep breathing into the pony's nostrils, -and immediately covering them with his hand, as if he were putting -some spell upon him. Opposite to the tall old chimney-piece were two -portraits: one of a gentleman with grey hair (though not by any means -an old man) and black eyebrows, who was looking over some papers tied -together with red tape; the other, of a lady, with a very placid and -sweet expression of face, who was looking at me. - -I believe I was turning about in search of Uriah's picture, when, a door -at the farther end of the room opening, a gentleman entered, at sight of -whom I turned to the first-mentioned portrait again, to make quite sure -that it had not come out of its frame. But it was stationary; and as the -gentleman advanced into the light, I saw that he was some years older -than when he had had his picture painted. - -'Miss Betsey Trotwood,' said the gentleman, 'pray walk in. I was engaged -for a moment, but you'll excuse my being busy. You know my motive. I -have but one in life.' - -Miss Betsey thanked him, and we went into his room, which was furnished -as an office, with books, papers, tin boxes, and so forth. It looked -into a garden, and had an iron safe let into the wall; so immediately -over the mantelshelf, that I wondered, as I sat down, how the sweeps got -round it when they swept the chimney. - -'Well, Miss Trotwood,' said Mr. Wickfield; for I soon found that it -was he, and that he was a lawyer, and steward of the estates of a rich -gentleman of the county; 'what wind blows you here? Not an ill wind, I -hope?' - -'No,' replied my aunt. 'I have not come for any law.' - -'That's right, ma'am,' said Mr. Wickfield. 'You had better come for -anything else.' His hair was quite white now, though his eyebrows were -still black. He had a very agreeable face, and, I thought, was handsome. -There was a certain richness in his complexion, which I had been long -accustomed, under Peggotty's tuition, to connect with port wine; and I -fancied it was in his voice too, and referred his growing corpulency -to the same cause. He was very cleanly dressed, in a blue coat, striped -waistcoat, and nankeen trousers; and his fine frilled shirt and cambric -neckcloth looked unusually soft and white, reminding my strolling fancy -(I call to mind) of the plumage on the breast of a swan. - -'This is my nephew,' said my aunt. - -'Wasn't aware you had one, Miss Trotwood,' said Mr. Wickfield. - -'My grand-nephew, that is to say,' observed my aunt. - -'Wasn't aware you had a grand-nephew, I give you my word,' said Mr. -Wickfield. - -'I have adopted him,' said my aunt, with a wave of her hand, importing -that his knowledge and his ignorance were all one to her, 'and I have -brought him here, to put to a school where he may be thoroughly well -taught, and well treated. Now tell me where that school is, and what it -is, and all about it.' - -'Before I can advise you properly,' said Mr. Wickfield--'the old -question, you know. What's your motive in this?' - -'Deuce take the man!' exclaimed my aunt. 'Always fishing for motives, -when they're on the surface! Why, to make the child happy and useful.' - -'It must be a mixed motive, I think,' said Mr. Wickfield, shaking his -head and smiling incredulously. - -'A mixed fiddlestick,' returned my aunt. 'You claim to have one plain -motive in all you do yourself. You don't suppose, I hope, that you are -the only plain dealer in the world?' - -'Ay, but I have only one motive in life, Miss Trotwood,' he rejoined, -smiling. 'Other people have dozens, scores, hundreds. I have only one. -There's the difference. However, that's beside the question. The best -school? Whatever the motive, you want the best?' - -My aunt nodded assent. - -'At the best we have,' said Mr. Wickfield, considering, 'your nephew -couldn't board just now.' - -'But he could board somewhere else, I suppose?' suggested my aunt. - -Mr. Wickfield thought I could. After a little discussion, he proposed to -take my aunt to the school, that she might see it and judge for herself; -also, to take her, with the same object, to two or three houses where he -thought I could be boarded. My aunt embracing the proposal, we were all -three going out together, when he stopped and said: - -'Our little friend here might have some motive, perhaps, for objecting -to the arrangements. I think we had better leave him behind?' - -My aunt seemed disposed to contest the point; but to facilitate matters -I said I would gladly remain behind, if they pleased; and returned into -Mr. Wickfield's office, where I sat down again, in the chair I had first -occupied, to await their return. - -It so happened that this chair was opposite a narrow passage, which -ended in the little circular room where I had seen Uriah Heep's pale -face looking out of the window. Uriah, having taken the pony to a -neighbouring stable, was at work at a desk in this room, which had a -brass frame on the top to hang paper upon, and on which the writing he -was making a copy of was then hanging. Though his face was towards me, I -thought, for some time, the writing being between us, that he could not -see me; but looking that way more attentively, it made me uncomfortable -to observe that, every now and then, his sleepless eyes would come below -the writing, like two red suns, and stealthily stare at me for I dare -say a whole minute at a time, during which his pen went, or pretended -to go, as cleverly as ever. I made several attempts to get out of their -way--such as standing on a chair to look at a map on the other side of -the room, and poring over the columns of a Kentish newspaper--but they -always attracted me back again; and whenever I looked towards those two -red suns, I was sure to find them, either just rising or just setting. - -At length, much to my relief, my aunt and Mr. Wickfield came back, -after a pretty long absence. They were not so successful as I could have -wished; for though the advantages of the school were undeniable, my aunt -had not approved of any of the boarding-houses proposed for me. - -'It's very unfortunate,' said my aunt. 'I don't know what to do, Trot.' - -'It does happen unfortunately,' said Mr. Wickfield. 'But I'll tell you -what you can do, Miss Trotwood.' - -'What's that?' inquired my aunt. - -'Leave your nephew here, for the present. He's a quiet fellow. He -won't disturb me at all. It's a capital house for study. As quiet as a -monastery, and almost as roomy. Leave him here.' - -My aunt evidently liked the offer, though she was delicate of accepting -it. So did I. 'Come, Miss Trotwood,' said Mr. Wickfield. 'This is the -way out of the difficulty. It's only a temporary arrangement, you know. -If it don't act well, or don't quite accord with our mutual convenience, -he can easily go to the right-about. There will be time to find some -better place for him in the meanwhile. You had better determine to leave -him here for the present!' - -'I am very much obliged to you,' said my aunt; 'and so is he, I see; -but--' - -'Come! I know what you mean,' cried Mr. Wickfield. 'You shall not be -oppressed by the receipt of favours, Miss Trotwood. You may pay for -him, if you like. We won't be hard about terms, but you shall pay if you -will.' - -'On that understanding,' said my aunt, 'though it doesn't lessen the -real obligation, I shall be very glad to leave him.' - -'Then come and see my little housekeeper,' said Mr. Wickfield. - -We accordingly went up a wonderful old staircase; with a balustrade -so broad that we might have gone up that, almost as easily; and into -a shady old drawing-room, lighted by some three or four of the quaint -windows I had looked up at from the street: which had old oak seats -in them, that seemed to have come of the same trees as the shining oak -floor, and the great beams in the ceiling. It was a prettily furnished -room, with a piano and some lively furniture in red and green, and some -flowers. It seemed to be all old nooks and corners; and in every nook -and corner there was some queer little table, or cupboard, or bookcase, -or seat, or something or other, that made me think there was not such -another good corner in the room; until I looked at the next one, and -found it equal to it, if not better. On everything there was the same -air of retirement and cleanliness that marked the house outside. - -Mr. Wickfield tapped at a door in a corner of the panelled wall, and a -girl of about my own age came quickly out and kissed him. On her face, -I saw immediately the placid and sweet expression of the lady whose -picture had looked at me downstairs. It seemed to my imagination as -if the portrait had grown womanly, and the original remained a child. -Although her face was quite bright and happy, there was a tranquillity -about it, and about her--a quiet, good, calm spirit--that I never have -forgotten; that I shall never forget. This was his little housekeeper, -his daughter Agnes, Mr. Wickfield said. When I heard how he said it, and -saw how he held her hand, I guessed what the one motive of his life was. - -She had a little basket-trifle hanging at her side, with keys in it; and -she looked as staid and as discreet a housekeeper as the old house -could have. She listened to her father as he told her about me, with a -pleasant face; and when he had concluded, proposed to my aunt that we -should go upstairs and see my room. We all went together, she before us: -and a glorious old room it was, with more oak beams, and diamond panes; -and the broad balustrade going all the way up to it. - -I cannot call to mind where or when, in my childhood, I had seen a -stained glass window in a church. Nor do I recollect its subject. But -I know that when I saw her turn round, in the grave light of the old -staircase, and wait for us, above, I thought of that window; and I -associated something of its tranquil brightness with Agnes Wickfield -ever afterwards. - -My aunt was as happy as I was, in the arrangement made for me; and we -went down to the drawing-room again, well pleased and gratified. As she -would not hear of staying to dinner, lest she should by any chance fail -to arrive at home with the grey pony before dark; and as I apprehend Mr. -Wickfield knew her too well to argue any point with her; some lunch was -provided for her there, and Agnes went back to her governess, and Mr. -Wickfield to his office. So we were left to take leave of one another -without any restraint. - -She told me that everything would be arranged for me by Mr. Wickfield, -and that I should want for nothing, and gave me the kindest words and -the best advice. - -'Trot,' said my aunt in conclusion, 'be a credit to yourself, to me, and -Mr. Dick, and Heaven be with you!' - -I was greatly overcome, and could only thank her, again and again, and -send my love to Mr. Dick. - -'Never,' said my aunt, 'be mean in anything; never be false; never be -cruel. Avoid those three vices, Trot, and I can always be hopeful of -you.' - -I promised, as well as I could, that I would not abuse her kindness or -forget her admonition. - -'The pony's at the door,' said my aunt, 'and I am off! Stay here.' With -these words she embraced me hastily, and went out of the room, shutting -the door after her. At first I was startled by so abrupt a departure, -and almost feared I had displeased her; but when I looked into the -street, and saw how dejectedly she got into the chaise, and drove away -without looking up, I understood her better and did not do her that -injustice. - -By five o'clock, which was Mr. Wickfield's dinner-hour, I had mustered -up my spirits again, and was ready for my knife and fork. The cloth was -only laid for us two; but Agnes was waiting in the drawing-room before -dinner, went down with her father, and sat opposite to him at table. I -doubted whether he could have dined without her. - -We did not stay there, after dinner, but came upstairs into the -drawing-room again: in one snug corner of which, Agnes set glasses for -her father, and a decanter of port wine. I thought he would have missed -its usual flavour, if it had been put there for him by any other hands. - -There he sat, taking his wine, and taking a good deal of it, for two -hours; while Agnes played on the piano, worked, and talked to him and -me. He was, for the most part, gay and cheerful with us; but sometimes -his eyes rested on her, and he fell into a brooding state, and was -silent. She always observed this quickly, I thought, and always roused -him with a question or caress. Then he came out of his meditation, and -drank more wine. - -Agnes made the tea, and presided over it; and the time passed away after -it, as after dinner, until she went to bed; when her father took her -in his arms and kissed her, and, she being gone, ordered candles in his -office. Then I went to bed too. - -But in the course of the evening I had rambled down to the door, and a -little way along the street, that I might have another peep at the old -houses, and the grey Cathedral; and might think of my coming through -that old city on my journey, and of my passing the very house I lived -in, without knowing it. As I came back, I saw Uriah Heep shutting up -the office; and feeling friendly towards everybody, went in and spoke -to him, and at parting, gave him my hand. But oh, what a clammy hand his -was! as ghostly to the touch as to the sight! I rubbed mine afterwards, -to warm it, AND TO RUB HIS OFF. - -It was such an uncomfortable hand, that, when I went to my room, it was -still cold and wet upon my memory. Leaning out of the window, and seeing -one of the faces on the beam-ends looking at me sideways, I fancied it -was Uriah Heep got up there somehow, and shut him out in a hurry. - - - -CHAPTER 16. I AM A NEW BOY IN MORE SENSES THAN ONE - - -Next morning, after breakfast, I entered on school life again. I went, -accompanied by Mr. Wickfield, to the scene of my future studies--a grave -building in a courtyard, with a learned air about it that seemed very -well suited to the stray rooks and jackdaws who came down from the -Cathedral towers to walk with a clerkly bearing on the grass-plot--and -was introduced to my new master, Doctor Strong. - -Doctor Strong looked almost as rusty, to my thinking, as the tall iron -rails and gates outside the house; and almost as stiff and heavy as the -great stone urns that flanked them, and were set up, on the top of -the red-brick wall, at regular distances all round the court, like -sublimated skittles, for Time to play at. He was in his library (I mean -Doctor Strong was), with his clothes not particularly well brushed, and -his hair not particularly well combed; his knee-smalls unbraced; his -long black gaiters unbuttoned; and his shoes yawning like two caverns on -the hearth-rug. Turning upon me a lustreless eye, that reminded me of -a long-forgotten blind old horse who once used to crop the grass, and -tumble over the graves, in Blunderstone churchyard, he said he was glad -to see me: and then he gave me his hand; which I didn't know what to do -with, as it did nothing for itself. - -But, sitting at work, not far from Doctor Strong, was a very pretty -young lady--whom he called Annie, and who was his daughter, I -supposed--who got me out of my difficulty by kneeling down to put Doctor -Strong's shoes on, and button his gaiters, which she did with great -cheerfulness and quickness. When she had finished, and we were going -out to the schoolroom, I was much surprised to hear Mr. Wickfield, -in bidding her good morning, address her as 'Mrs. Strong'; and I was -wondering could she be Doctor Strong's son's wife, or could she be Mrs. -Doctor Strong, when Doctor Strong himself unconsciously enlightened me. - -'By the by, Wickfield,' he said, stopping in a passage with his hand on -my shoulder; 'you have not found any suitable provision for my wife's -cousin yet?' - -'No,' said Mr. Wickfield. 'No. Not yet.' - -'I could wish it done as soon as it can be done, Wickfield,' said -Doctor Strong, 'for Jack Maldon is needy, and idle; and of those two -bad things, worse things sometimes come. What does Doctor Watts say,' he -added, looking at me, and moving his head to the time of his quotation, -'"Satan finds some mischief still, for idle hands to do."' - -'Egad, Doctor,' returned Mr. Wickfield, 'if Doctor Watts knew mankind, -he might have written, with as much truth, "Satan finds some mischief -still, for busy hands to do." The busy people achieve their full share -of mischief in the world, you may rely upon it. What have the people -been about, who have been the busiest in getting money, and in getting -power, this century or two? No mischief?' - -'Jack Maldon will never be very busy in getting either, I expect,' said -Doctor Strong, rubbing his chin thoughtfully. - -'Perhaps not,' said Mr. Wickfield; 'and you bring me back to the -question, with an apology for digressing. No, I have not been able -to dispose of Mr. Jack Maldon yet. I believe,' he said this with some -hesitation, 'I penetrate your motive, and it makes the thing more -difficult.' - -'My motive,' returned Doctor Strong, 'is to make some suitable provision -for a cousin, and an old playfellow, of Annie's.' - -'Yes, I know,' said Mr. Wickfield; 'at home or abroad.' - -'Aye!' replied the Doctor, apparently wondering why he emphasized those -words so much. 'At home or abroad.' - -'Your own expression, you know,' said Mr. Wickfield. 'Or abroad.' - -'Surely,' the Doctor answered. 'Surely. One or other.' - -'One or other? Have you no choice?' asked Mr. Wickfield. - -'No,' returned the Doctor. - -'No?' with astonishment. - -'Not the least.' - -'No motive,' said Mr. Wickfield, 'for meaning abroad, and not at home?' - -'No,' returned the Doctor. - -'I am bound to believe you, and of course I do believe you,' said Mr. -Wickfield. 'It might have simplified my office very much, if I had known -it before. But I confess I entertained another impression.' - -Doctor Strong regarded him with a puzzled and doubting look, -which almost immediately subsided into a smile that gave me great -encouragement; for it was full of amiability and sweetness, and there -was a simplicity in it, and indeed in his whole manner, when the -studious, pondering frost upon it was got through, very attractive and -hopeful to a young scholar like me. Repeating 'no', and 'not the least', -and other short assurances to the same purport, Doctor Strong jogged -on before us, at a queer, uneven pace; and we followed: Mr. Wickfield, -looking grave, I observed, and shaking his head to himself, without -knowing that I saw him. - -The schoolroom was a pretty large hall, on the quietest side of the -house, confronted by the stately stare of some half-dozen of the great -urns, and commanding a peep of an old secluded garden belonging to the -Doctor, where the peaches were ripening on the sunny south wall. There -were two great aloes, in tubs, on the turf outside the windows; the -broad hard leaves of which plant (looking as if they were made of -painted tin) have ever since, by association, been symbolical to me -of silence and retirement. About five-and-twenty boys were studiously -engaged at their books when we went in, but they rose to give the Doctor -good morning, and remained standing when they saw Mr. Wickfield and me. - -'A new boy, young gentlemen,' said the Doctor; 'Trotwood Copperfield.' - -One Adams, who was the head-boy, then stepped out of his place and -welcomed me. He looked like a young clergyman, in his white cravat, but -he was very affable and good-humoured; and he showed me my place, and -presented me to the masters, in a gentlemanly way that would have put me -at my ease, if anything could. - -It seemed to me so long, however, since I had been among such boys, -or among any companions of my own age, except Mick Walker and Mealy -Potatoes, that I felt as strange as ever I have done in my life. I was -so conscious of having passed through scenes of which they could have -no knowledge, and of having acquired experiences foreign to my age, -appearance, and condition as one of them, that I half believed it was an -imposture to come there as an ordinary little schoolboy. I had become, -in the Murdstone and Grinby time, however short or long it may have -been, so unused to the sports and games of boys, that I knew I was -awkward and inexperienced in the commonest things belonging to them. -Whatever I had learnt, had so slipped away from me in the sordid cares -of my life from day to night, that now, when I was examined about what -I knew, I knew nothing, and was put into the lowest form of the school. -But, troubled as I was, by my want of boyish skill, and of book-learning -too, I was made infinitely more uncomfortable by the consideration, -that, in what I did know, I was much farther removed from my companions -than in what I did not. My mind ran upon what they would think, if they -knew of my familiar acquaintance with the King's Bench Prison? Was there -anything about me which would reveal my proceedings in connexion with -the Micawber family--all those pawnings, and sellings, and suppers--in -spite of myself? Suppose some of the boys had seen me coming through -Canterbury, wayworn and ragged, and should find me out? What would they -say, who made so light of money, if they could know how I had scraped my -halfpence together, for the purchase of my daily saveloy and beer, or -my slices of pudding? How would it affect them, who were so innocent of -London life, and London streets, to discover how knowing I was (and was -ashamed to be) in some of the meanest phases of both? All this ran in -my head so much, on that first day at Doctor Strong's, that I felt -distrustful of my slightest look and gesture; shrunk within myself -whensoever I was approached by one of my new schoolfellows; and hurried -off the minute school was over, afraid of committing myself in my -response to any friendly notice or advance. - -But there was such an influence in Mr. Wickfield's old house, that when -I knocked at it, with my new school-books under my arm, I began to feel -my uneasiness softening away. As I went up to my airy old room, the -grave shadow of the staircase seemed to fall upon my doubts and fears, -and to make the past more indistinct. I sat there, sturdily conning my -books, until dinner-time (we were out of school for good at three); and -went down, hopeful of becoming a passable sort of boy yet. - -Agnes was in the drawing-room, waiting for her father, who was detained -by someone in his office. She met me with her pleasant smile, and asked -me how I liked the school. I told her I should like it very much, I -hoped; but I was a little strange to it at first. - -'You have never been to school,' I said, 'have you?' 'Oh yes! Every -day.' - -'Ah, but you mean here, at your own home?' - -'Papa couldn't spare me to go anywhere else,' she answered, smiling and -shaking her head. 'His housekeeper must be in his house, you know.' - -'He is very fond of you, I am sure,' I said. - -She nodded 'Yes,' and went to the door to listen for his coming up, that -she might meet him on the stairs. But, as he was not there, she came -back again. - -'Mama has been dead ever since I was born,' she said, in her quiet way. -'I only know her picture, downstairs. I saw you looking at it yesterday. -Did you think whose it was?' - -I told her yes, because it was so like herself. - -'Papa says so, too,' said Agnes, pleased. 'Hark! That's papa now!' - -Her bright calm face lighted up with pleasure as she went to meet him, -and as they came in, hand in hand. He greeted me cordially; and told -me I should certainly be happy under Doctor Strong, who was one of the -gentlest of men. - -'There may be some, perhaps--I don't know that there are--who abuse -his kindness,' said Mr. Wickfield. 'Never be one of those, Trotwood, in -anything. He is the least suspicious of mankind; and whether that's -a merit, or whether it's a blemish, it deserves consideration in all -dealings with the Doctor, great or small.' - -He spoke, I thought, as if he were weary, or dissatisfied with -something; but I did not pursue the question in my mind, for dinner was -just then announced, and we went down and took the same seats as before. - -We had scarcely done so, when Uriah Heep put in his red head and his -lank hand at the door, and said: - -'Here's Mr. Maldon begs the favour of a word, sir.' - -'I am but this moment quit of Mr. Maldon,' said his master. - -'Yes, sir,' returned Uriah; 'but Mr. Maldon has come back, and he begs -the favour of a word.' - -As he held the door open with his hand, Uriah looked at me, and looked -at Agnes, and looked at the dishes, and looked at the plates, and looked -at every object in the room, I thought,--yet seemed to look at nothing; -he made such an appearance all the while of keeping his red eyes -dutifully on his master. 'I beg your pardon. It's only to say, on -reflection,' observed a voice behind Uriah, as Uriah's head was -pushed away, and the speaker's substituted--'pray excuse me for this -intrusion--that as it seems I have no choice in the matter, the sooner -I go abroad the better. My cousin Annie did say, when we talked of it, -that she liked to have her friends within reach rather than to have them -banished, and the old Doctor--' - -'Doctor Strong, was that?' Mr. Wickfield interposed, gravely. - -'Doctor Strong, of course,' returned the other; 'I call him the old -Doctor; it's all the same, you know.' - -'I don't know,' returned Mr. Wickfield. - -'Well, Doctor Strong,' said the other--'Doctor Strong was of the same -mind, I believed. But as it appears from the course you take with me he -has changed his mind, why there's no more to be said, except that the -sooner I am off, the better. Therefore, I thought I'd come back and say, -that the sooner I am off the better. When a plunge is to be made into -the water, it's of no use lingering on the bank.' - -'There shall be as little lingering as possible, in your case, Mr. -Maldon, you may depend upon it,' said Mr. Wickfield. - -'Thank'ee,' said the other. 'Much obliged. I don't want to look a -gift-horse in the mouth, which is not a gracious thing to do; otherwise, -I dare say, my cousin Annie could easily arrange it in her own way. I -suppose Annie would only have to say to the old Doctor--' - -'Meaning that Mrs. Strong would only have to say to her husband--do I -follow you?' said Mr. Wickfield. - -'Quite so,' returned the other, '--would only have to say, that she -wanted such and such a thing to be so and so; and it would be so and so, -as a matter of course.' - -'And why as a matter of course, Mr. Maldon?' asked Mr. Wickfield, -sedately eating his dinner. - -'Why, because Annie's a charming young girl, and the old Doctor--Doctor -Strong, I mean--is not quite a charming young boy,' said Mr. Jack -Maldon, laughing. 'No offence to anybody, Mr. Wickfield. I only mean -that I suppose some compensation is fair and reasonable in that sort of -marriage.' - -'Compensation to the lady, sir?' asked Mr. Wickfield gravely. - -'To the lady, sir,' Mr. Jack Maldon answered, laughing. But appearing -to remark that Mr. Wickfield went on with his dinner in the same sedate, -immovable manner, and that there was no hope of making him relax a -muscle of his face, he added: 'However, I have said what I came to say, -and, with another apology for this intrusion, I may take myself off. Of -course I shall observe your directions, in considering the matter as one -to be arranged between you and me solely, and not to be referred to, up -at the Doctor's.' - -'Have you dined?' asked Mr. Wickfield, with a motion of his hand towards -the table. - -'Thank'ee. I am going to dine,' said Mr. Maldon, 'with my cousin Annie. -Good-bye!' - -Mr. Wickfield, without rising, looked after him thoughtfully as he went -out. He was rather a shallow sort of young gentleman, I thought, with -a handsome face, a rapid utterance, and a confident, bold air. And this -was the first I ever saw of Mr. Jack Maldon; whom I had not expected to -see so soon, when I heard the Doctor speak of him that morning. - -When we had dined, we went upstairs again, where everything went on -exactly as on the previous day. Agnes set the glasses and decanters in -the same corner, and Mr. Wickfield sat down to drink, and drank a good -deal. Agnes played the piano to him, sat by him, and worked and talked, -and played some games at dominoes with me. In good time she made tea; -and afterwards, when I brought down my books, looked into them, and -showed me what she knew of them (which was no slight matter, though she -said it was), and what was the best way to learn and understand them. -I see her, with her modest, orderly, placid manner, and I hear her -beautiful calm voice, as I write these words. The influence for all -good, which she came to exercise over me at a later time, begins -already to descend upon my breast. I love little Em'ly, and I don't love -Agnes--no, not at all in that way--but I feel that there are goodness, -peace, and truth, wherever Agnes is; and that the soft light of the -coloured window in the church, seen long ago, falls on her always, and -on me when I am near her, and on everything around. - -The time having come for her withdrawal for the night, and she having -left us, I gave Mr. Wickfield my hand, preparatory to going away myself. -But he checked me and said: 'Should you like to stay with us, Trotwood, -or to go elsewhere?' - -'To stay,' I answered, quickly. - -'You are sure?' - -'If you please. If I may!' - -'Why, it's but a dull life that we lead here, boy, I am afraid,' he -said. - -'Not more dull for me than Agnes, sir. Not dull at all!' - -'Than Agnes,' he repeated, walking slowly to the great chimney-piece, -and leaning against it. 'Than Agnes!' - -He had drank wine that evening (or I fancied it), until his eyes were -bloodshot. Not that I could see them now, for they were cast down, and -shaded by his hand; but I had noticed them a little while before. - -'Now I wonder,' he muttered, 'whether my Agnes tires of me. When should -I ever tire of her! But that's different, that's quite different.' - -He was musing, not speaking to me; so I remained quiet. - -'A dull old house,' he said, 'and a monotonous life; but I must have -her near me. I must keep her near me. If the thought that I may die and -leave my darling, or that my darling may die and leave me, comes like a -spectre, to distress my happiest hours, and is only to be drowned in--' - -He did not supply the word; but pacing slowly to the place where he had -sat, and mechanically going through the action of pouring wine from the -empty decanter, set it down and paced back again. - -'If it is miserable to bear, when she is here,' he said, 'what would it -be, and she away? No, no, no. I cannot try that.' - -He leaned against the chimney-piece, brooding so long that I could not -decide whether to run the risk of disturbing him by going, or to remain -quietly where I was, until he should come out of his reverie. At length -he aroused himself, and looked about the room until his eyes encountered -mine. - -'Stay with us, Trotwood, eh?' he said in his usual manner, and as if -he were answering something I had just said. 'I am glad of it. You are -company to us both. It is wholesome to have you here. Wholesome for me, -wholesome for Agnes, wholesome perhaps for all of us.' - -'I am sure it is for me, sir,' I said. 'I am so glad to be here.' - -'That's a fine fellow!' said Mr. Wickfield. 'As long as you are glad -to be here, you shall stay here.' He shook hands with me upon it, and -clapped me on the back; and told me that when I had anything to do -at night after Agnes had left us, or when I wished to read for my own -pleasure, I was free to come down to his room, if he were there and if -I desired it for company's sake, and to sit with him. I thanked him for -his consideration; and, as he went down soon afterwards, and I was -not tired, went down too, with a book in my hand, to avail myself, for -half-an-hour, of his permission. - -But, seeing a light in the little round office, and immediately feeling -myself attracted towards Uriah Heep, who had a sort of fascination for -me, I went in there instead. I found Uriah reading a great fat book, -with such demonstrative attention, that his lank forefinger followed up -every line as he read, and made clammy tracks along the page (or so I -fully believed) like a snail. - -'You are working late tonight, Uriah,' says I. - -'Yes, Master Copperfield,' says Uriah. - -As I was getting on the stool opposite, to talk to him more -conveniently, I observed that he had not such a thing as a smile about -him, and that he could only widen his mouth and make two hard creases -down his cheeks, one on each side, to stand for one. - -'I am not doing office-work, Master Copperfield,' said Uriah. - -'What work, then?' I asked. - -'I am improving my legal knowledge, Master Copperfield,' said Uriah. 'I -am going through Tidd's Practice. Oh, what a writer Mr. Tidd is, Master -Copperfield!' - -My stool was such a tower of observation, that as I watched him reading -on again, after this rapturous exclamation, and following up the lines -with his forefinger, I observed that his nostrils, which were thin and -pointed, with sharp dints in them, had a singular and most uncomfortable -way of expanding and contracting themselves--that they seemed to twinkle -instead of his eyes, which hardly ever twinkled at all. - -'I suppose you are quite a great lawyer?' I said, after looking at him -for some time. - -'Me, Master Copperfield?' said Uriah. 'Oh, no! I'm a very umble person.' - -It was no fancy of mine about his hands, I observed; for he frequently -ground the palms against each other as if to squeeze them dry and -warm, besides often wiping them, in a stealthy way, on his -pocket-handkerchief. - -'I am well aware that I am the umblest person going,' said Uriah Heep, -modestly; 'let the other be where he may. My mother is likewise a very -umble person. We live in a numble abode, Master Copperfield, but have -much to be thankful for. My father's former calling was umble. He was a -sexton.' - -'What is he now?' I asked. - -'He is a partaker of glory at present, Master Copperfield,' said Uriah -Heep. 'But we have much to be thankful for. How much have I to be -thankful for in living with Mr. Wickfield!' - -I asked Uriah if he had been with Mr. Wickfield long? - -'I have been with him, going on four year, Master Copperfield,' said -Uriah; shutting up his book, after carefully marking the place where he -had left off. 'Since a year after my father's death. How much have I -to be thankful for, in that! How much have I to be thankful for, in Mr. -Wickfield's kind intention to give me my articles, which would otherwise -not lay within the umble means of mother and self!' - -'Then, when your articled time is over, you'll be a regular lawyer, I -suppose?' said I. - -'With the blessing of Providence, Master Copperfield,' returned Uriah. - -'Perhaps you'll be a partner in Mr. Wickfield's business, one of these -days,' I said, to make myself agreeable; 'and it will be Wickfield and -Heep, or Heep late Wickfield.' - -'Oh no, Master Copperfield,' returned Uriah, shaking his head, 'I am -much too umble for that!' - -He certainly did look uncommonly like the carved face on the beam -outside my window, as he sat, in his humility, eyeing me sideways, with -his mouth widened, and the creases in his cheeks. - -'Mr. Wickfield is a most excellent man, Master Copperfield,' said Uriah. -'If you have known him long, you know it, I am sure, much better than I -can inform you.' - -I replied that I was certain he was; but that I had not known him long -myself, though he was a friend of my aunt's. - -'Oh, indeed, Master Copperfield,' said Uriah. 'Your aunt is a sweet -lady, Master Copperfield!' - -He had a way of writhing when he wanted to express enthusiasm, which was -very ugly; and which diverted my attention from the compliment he had -paid my relation, to the snaky twistings of his throat and body. - -'A sweet lady, Master Copperfield!' said Uriah Heep. 'She has a great -admiration for Miss Agnes, Master Copperfield, I believe?' - -I said, 'Yes,' boldly; not that I knew anything about it, Heaven forgive -me! - -'I hope you have, too, Master Copperfield,' said Uriah. 'But I am sure -you must have.' - -'Everybody must have,' I returned. - -'Oh, thank you, Master Copperfield,' said Uriah Heep, 'for that remark! -It is so true! Umble as I am, I know it is so true! Oh, thank you, -Master Copperfield!' He writhed himself quite off his stool in the -excitement of his feelings, and, being off, began to make arrangements -for going home. - -'Mother will be expecting me,' he said, referring to a pale, -inexpressive-faced watch in his pocket, 'and getting uneasy; for though -we are very umble, Master Copperfield, we are much attached to one -another. If you would come and see us, any afternoon, and take a cup of -tea at our lowly dwelling, mother would be as proud of your company as I -should be.' - -I said I should be glad to come. - -'Thank you, Master Copperfield,' returned Uriah, putting his book -away upon the shelf--'I suppose you stop here, some time, Master -Copperfield?' - -I said I was going to be brought up there, I believed, as long as I -remained at school. - -'Oh, indeed!' exclaimed Uriah. 'I should think YOU would come into the -business at last, Master Copperfield!' - -I protested that I had no views of that sort, and that no such scheme -was entertained in my behalf by anybody; but Uriah insisted on blandly -replying to all my assurances, 'Oh, yes, Master Copperfield, I should -think you would, indeed!' and, 'Oh, indeed, Master Copperfield, I should -think you would, certainly!' over and over again. Being, at last, ready -to leave the office for the night, he asked me if it would suit my -convenience to have the light put out; and on my answering 'Yes,' -instantly extinguished it. After shaking hands with me--his hand felt -like a fish, in the dark--he opened the door into the street a very -little, and crept out, and shut it, leaving me to grope my way back into -the house: which cost me some trouble and a fall over his stool. This -was the proximate cause, I suppose, of my dreaming about him, for what -appeared to me to be half the night; and dreaming, among other things, -that he had launched Mr. Peggotty's house on a piratical expedition, -with a black flag at the masthead, bearing the inscription 'Tidd's -Practice', under which diabolical ensign he was carrying me and little -Em'ly to the Spanish Main, to be drowned. - -I got a little the better of my uneasiness when I went to school -next day, and a good deal the better next day, and so shook it off by -degrees, that in less than a fortnight I was quite at home, and happy, -among my new companions. I was awkward enough in their games, and -backward enough in their studies; but custom would improve me in the -first respect, I hoped, and hard work in the second. Accordingly, I -went to work very hard, both in play and in earnest, and gained great -commendation. And, in a very little while, the Murdstone and Grinby life -became so strange to me that I hardly believed in it, while my present -life grew so familiar, that I seemed to have been leading it a long -time. - -Doctor Strong's was an excellent school; as different from Mr. Creakle's -as good is from evil. It was very gravely and decorously ordered, and -on a sound system; with an appeal, in everything, to the honour and good -faith of the boys, and an avowed intention to rely on their possession -of those qualities unless they proved themselves unworthy of it, which -worked wonders. We all felt that we had a part in the management of -the place, and in sustaining its character and dignity. Hence, we soon -became warmly attached to it--I am sure I did for one, and I never knew, -in all my time, of any other boy being otherwise--and learnt with a good -will, desiring to do it credit. We had noble games out of hours, and -plenty of liberty; but even then, as I remember, we were well spoken of -in the town, and rarely did any disgrace, by our appearance or manner, -to the reputation of Doctor Strong and Doctor Strong's boys. - -Some of the higher scholars boarded in the Doctor's house, and through -them I learned, at second hand, some particulars of the Doctor's -history--as, how he had not yet been married twelve months to the -beautiful young lady I had seen in the study, whom he had married for -love; for she had not a sixpence, and had a world of poor relations (so -our fellows said) ready to swarm the Doctor out of house and home. Also, -how the Doctor's cogitating manner was attributable to his being always -engaged in looking out for Greek roots; which, in my innocence and -ignorance, I supposed to be a botanical furor on the Doctor's part, -especially as he always looked at the ground when he walked about, -until I understood that they were roots of words, with a view to a new -Dictionary which he had in contemplation. Adams, our head-boy, who had -a turn for mathematics, had made a calculation, I was informed, of the -time this Dictionary would take in completing, on the Doctor's plan, and -at the Doctor's rate of going. He considered that it might be done -in one thousand six hundred and forty-nine years, counting from the -Doctor's last, or sixty-second, birthday. - -But the Doctor himself was the idol of the whole school: and it must -have been a badly composed school if he had been anything else, for -he was the kindest of men; with a simple faith in him that might have -touched the stone hearts of the very urns upon the wall. As he walked up -and down that part of the courtyard which was at the side of the house, -with the stray rooks and jackdaws looking after him with their heads -cocked slyly, as if they knew how much more knowing they were in worldly -affairs than he, if any sort of vagabond could only get near enough to -his creaking shoes to attract his attention to one sentence of a tale -of distress, that vagabond was made for the next two days. It was so -notorious in the house, that the masters and head-boys took pains to cut -these marauders off at angles, and to get out of windows, and turn them -out of the courtyard, before they could make the Doctor aware of their -presence; which was sometimes happily effected within a few yards of -him, without his knowing anything of the matter, as he jogged to and -fro. Outside his own domain, and unprotected, he was a very sheep for -the shearers. He would have taken his gaiters off his legs, to give -away. In fact, there was a story current among us (I have no idea, and -never had, on what authority, but I have believed it for so many -years that I feel quite certain it is true), that on a frosty day, one -winter-time, he actually did bestow his gaiters on a beggar-woman, who -occasioned some scandal in the neighbourhood by exhibiting a fine infant -from door to door, wrapped in those garments, which were universally -recognized, being as well known in the vicinity as the Cathedral. The -legend added that the only person who did not identify them was the -Doctor himself, who, when they were shortly afterwards displayed at the -door of a little second-hand shop of no very good repute, where such -things were taken in exchange for gin, was more than once observed to -handle them approvingly, as if admiring some curious novelty in the -pattern, and considering them an improvement on his own. - -It was very pleasant to see the Doctor with his pretty young wife. He -had a fatherly, benignant way of showing his fondness for her, which -seemed in itself to express a good man. I often saw them walking in the -garden where the peaches were, and I sometimes had a nearer observation -of them in the study or the parlour. She appeared to me to take great -care of the Doctor, and to like him very much, though I never thought -her vitally interested in the Dictionary: some cumbrous fragments of -which work the Doctor always carried in his pockets, and in the lining -of his hat, and generally seemed to be expounding to her as they walked -about. - -I saw a good deal of Mrs. Strong, both because she had taken a liking -for me on the morning of my introduction to the Doctor, and was always -afterwards kind to me, and interested in me; and because she was very -fond of Agnes, and was often backwards and forwards at our house. There -was a curious constraint between her and Mr. Wickfield, I thought (of -whom she seemed to be afraid), that never wore off. When she came there -of an evening, she always shrunk from accepting his escort home, and ran -away with me instead. And sometimes, as we were running gaily across -the Cathedral yard together, expecting to meet nobody, we would meet Mr. -Jack Maldon, who was always surprised to see us. - -Mrs. Strong's mama was a lady I took great delight in. Her name was Mrs. -Markleham; but our boys used to call her the Old Soldier, on account of -her generalship, and the skill with which she marshalled great forces -of relations against the Doctor. She was a little, sharp-eyed woman, -who used to wear, when she was dressed, one unchangeable cap, ornamented -with some artificial flowers, and two artificial butterflies supposed -to be hovering above the flowers. There was a superstition among us -that this cap had come from France, and could only originate in the -workmanship of that ingenious nation: but all I certainly know about it, -is, that it always made its appearance of an evening, wheresoever Mrs. -Markleham made HER appearance; that it was carried about to friendly -meetings in a Hindoo basket; that the butterflies had the gift of -trembling constantly; and that they improved the shining hours at Doctor -Strong's expense, like busy bees. - -I observed the Old Soldier--not to adopt the name disrespectfully--to -pretty good advantage, on a night which is made memorable to me by -something else I shall relate. It was the night of a little party at the -Doctor's, which was given on the occasion of Mr. Jack Maldon's departure -for India, whither he was going as a cadet, or something of that kind: -Mr. Wickfield having at length arranged the business. It happened to be -the Doctor's birthday, too. We had had a holiday, had made presents to -him in the morning, had made a speech to him through the head-boy, and -had cheered him until we were hoarse, and until he had shed tears. And -now, in the evening, Mr. Wickfield, Agnes, and I, went to have tea with -him in his private capacity. - -Mr. Jack Maldon was there, before us. Mrs. Strong, dressed in white, -with cherry-coloured ribbons, was playing the piano, when we went in; -and he was leaning over her to turn the leaves. The clear red and -white of her complexion was not so blooming and flower-like as usual, I -thought, when she turned round; but she looked very pretty, Wonderfully -pretty. - -'I have forgotten, Doctor,' said Mrs. Strong's mama, when we were -seated, 'to pay you the compliments of the day--though they are, as you -may suppose, very far from being mere compliments in my case. Allow me -to wish you many happy returns.' - -'I thank you, ma'am,' replied the Doctor. - -'Many, many, many, happy returns,' said the Old Soldier. 'Not only -for your own sake, but for Annie's, and John Maldon's, and many other -people's. It seems but yesterday to me, John, when you were a little -creature, a head shorter than Master Copperfield, making baby love to -Annie behind the gooseberry bushes in the back-garden.' - -'My dear mama,' said Mrs. Strong, 'never mind that now.' - -'Annie, don't be absurd,' returned her mother. 'If you are to blush to -hear of such things now you are an old married woman, when are you not -to blush to hear of them?' - -'Old?' exclaimed Mr. Jack Maldon. 'Annie? Come!' - -'Yes, John,' returned the Soldier. 'Virtually, an old married woman. -Although not old by years--for when did you ever hear me say, or who has -ever heard me say, that a girl of twenty was old by years!--your cousin -is the wife of the Doctor, and, as such, what I have described her. It -is well for you, John, that your cousin is the wife of the Doctor. You -have found in him an influential and kind friend, who will be kinder -yet, I venture to predict, if you deserve it. I have no false pride. -I never hesitate to admit, frankly, that there are some members of our -family who want a friend. You were one yourself, before your cousin's -influence raised up one for you.' - -The Doctor, in the goodness of his heart, waved his hand as if to make -light of it, and save Mr. Jack Maldon from any further reminder. But -Mrs. Markleham changed her chair for one next the Doctor's, and putting -her fan on his coat-sleeve, said: - -'No, really, my dear Doctor, you must excuse me if I appear to dwell -on this rather, because I feel so very strongly. I call it quite my -monomania, it is such a subject of mine. You are a blessing to us. You -really are a Boon, you know.' - -'Nonsense, nonsense,' said the Doctor. - -'No, no, I beg your pardon,' retorted the Old Soldier. 'With nobody -present, but our dear and confidential friend Mr. Wickfield, I cannot -consent to be put down. I shall begin to assert the privileges of a -mother-in-law, if you go on like that, and scold you. I am perfectly -honest and outspoken. What I am saying, is what I said when you first -overpowered me with surprise--you remember how surprised I was?--by -proposing for Annie. Not that there was anything so very much out of -the way, in the mere fact of the proposal--it would be ridiculous to say -that!--but because, you having known her poor father, and having known -her from a baby six months old, I hadn't thought of you in such a light -at all, or indeed as a marrying man in any way,--simply that, you know.' - -'Aye, aye,' returned the Doctor, good-humouredly. 'Never mind.' - -'But I DO mind,' said the Old Soldier, laying her fan upon his lips. 'I -mind very much. I recall these things that I may be contradicted if I am -wrong. Well! Then I spoke to Annie, and I told her what had happened. -I said, "My dear, here's Doctor Strong has positively been and made you -the subject of a handsome declaration and an offer." Did I press it in -the least? No. I said, "Now, Annie, tell me the truth this moment; is -your heart free?" "Mama," she said crying, "I am extremely young"--which -was perfectly true--"and I hardly know if I have a heart at all." "Then, -my dear," I said, "you may rely upon it, it's free. At all events, my -love," said I, "Doctor Strong is in an agitated state of mind, and -must be answered. He cannot be kept in his present state of suspense." -"Mama," said Annie, still crying, "would he be unhappy without me? If he -would, I honour and respect him so much, that I think I will have him." -So it was settled. And then, and not till then, I said to Annie, "Annie, -Doctor Strong will not only be your husband, but he will represent your -late father: he will represent the head of our family, he will represent -the wisdom and station, and I may say the means, of our family; and will -be, in short, a Boon to it." I used the word at the time, and I have -used it again, today. If I have any merit it is consistency.' - -The daughter had sat quite silent and still during this speech, with her -eyes fixed on the ground; her cousin standing near her, and looking on -the ground too. She now said very softly, in a trembling voice: - -'Mama, I hope you have finished?' 'No, my dear Annie,' returned the Old -Soldier, 'I have not quite finished. Since you ask me, my love, I reply -that I have not. I complain that you really are a little unnatural -towards your own family; and, as it is of no use complaining to you. I -mean to complain to your husband. Now, my dear Doctor, do look at that -silly wife of yours.' - -As the Doctor turned his kind face, with its smile of simplicity and -gentleness, towards her, she drooped her head more. I noticed that Mr. -Wickfield looked at her steadily. - -'When I happened to say to that naughty thing, the other day,' pursued -her mother, shaking her head and her fan at her, playfully, 'that there -was a family circumstance she might mention to you--indeed, I think, was -bound to mention--she said, that to mention it was to ask a favour; -and that, as you were too generous, and as for her to ask was always to -have, she wouldn't.' - -'Annie, my dear,' said the Doctor. 'That was wrong. It robbed me of a -pleasure.' - -'Almost the very words I said to her!' exclaimed her mother. 'Now -really, another time, when I know what she would tell you but for this -reason, and won't, I have a great mind, my dear Doctor, to tell you -myself.' - -'I shall be glad if you will,' returned the Doctor. - -'Shall I?' - -'Certainly.' - -'Well, then, I will!' said the Old Soldier. 'That's a bargain.' And -having, I suppose, carried her point, she tapped the Doctor's hand -several times with her fan (which she kissed first), and returned -triumphantly to her former station. - -Some more company coming in, among whom were the two masters and Adams, -the talk became general; and it naturally turned on Mr. Jack Maldon, and -his voyage, and the country he was going to, and his various plans and -prospects. He was to leave that night, after supper, in a post-chaise, -for Gravesend; where the ship, in which he was to make the voyage, lay; -and was to be gone--unless he came home on leave, or for his health--I -don't know how many years. I recollect it was settled by general -consent that India was quite a misrepresented country, and had nothing -objectionable in it, but a tiger or two, and a little heat in the warm -part of the day. For my own part, I looked on Mr. Jack Maldon as a -modern Sindbad, and pictured him the bosom friend of all the Rajahs in -the East, sitting under canopies, smoking curly golden pipes--a mile -long, if they could be straightened out. - -Mrs. Strong was a very pretty singer: as I knew, who often heard her -singing by herself. But, whether she was afraid of singing before -people, or was out of voice that evening, it was certain that she -couldn't sing at all. She tried a duet, once, with her cousin Maldon, -but could not so much as begin; and afterwards, when she tried to sing -by herself, although she began sweetly, her voice died away on a sudden, -and left her quite distressed, with her head hanging down over the keys. -The good Doctor said she was nervous, and, to relieve her, proposed a -round game at cards; of which he knew as much as of the art of playing -the trombone. But I remarked that the Old Soldier took him into custody -directly, for her partner; and instructed him, as the first preliminary -of initiation, to give her all the silver he had in his pocket. - -We had a merry game, not made the less merry by the Doctor's mistakes, -of which he committed an innumerable quantity, in spite of the -watchfulness of the butterflies, and to their great aggravation. Mrs. -Strong had declined to play, on the ground of not feeling very well; and -her cousin Maldon had excused himself because he had some packing to -do. When he had done it, however, he returned, and they sat together, -talking, on the sofa. From time to time she came and looked over the -Doctor's hand, and told him what to play. She was very pale, as she -bent over him, and I thought her finger trembled as she pointed out -the cards; but the Doctor was quite happy in her attention, and took no -notice of this, if it were so. - -At supper, we were hardly so gay. Everyone appeared to feel that a -parting of that sort was an awkward thing, and that the nearer it -approached, the more awkward it was. Mr. Jack Maldon tried to be very -talkative, but was not at his ease, and made matters worse. And they -were not improved, as it appeared to me, by the Old Soldier: who -continually recalled passages of Mr. Jack Maldon's youth. - -The Doctor, however, who felt, I am sure, that he was making everybody -happy, was well pleased, and had no suspicion but that we were all at -the utmost height of enjoyment. - -'Annie, my dear,' said he, looking at his watch, and filling his glass, -'it is past your cousin Jack's time, and we must not detain him, since -time and tide--both concerned in this case--wait for no man. Mr. Jack -Maldon, you have a long voyage, and a strange country, before you; but -many men have had both, and many men will have both, to the end of time. -The winds you are going to tempt, have wafted thousands upon thousands -to fortune, and brought thousands upon thousands happily back.' - -'It's an affecting thing,' said Mrs. Markleham--'however it's viewed, -it's affecting, to see a fine young man one has known from an infant, -going away to the other end of the world, leaving all he knows behind, -and not knowing what's before him. A young man really well deserves -constant support and patronage,' looking at the Doctor, 'who makes such -sacrifices.' - -'Time will go fast with you, Mr. Jack Maldon,' pursued the Doctor, -'and fast with all of us. Some of us can hardly expect, perhaps, in the -natural course of things, to greet you on your return. The next best -thing is to hope to do it, and that's my case. I shall not weary you -with good advice. You have long had a good model before you, in your -cousin Annie. Imitate her virtues as nearly as you can.' - -Mrs. Markleham fanned herself, and shook her head. - -'Farewell, Mr. Jack,' said the Doctor, standing up; on which we all -stood up. 'A prosperous voyage out, a thriving career abroad, and a -happy return home!' - -We all drank the toast, and all shook hands with Mr. Jack Maldon; after -which he hastily took leave of the ladies who were there, and hurried -to the door, where he was received, as he got into the chaise, with a -tremendous broadside of cheers discharged by our boys, who had assembled -on the lawn for the purpose. Running in among them to swell the ranks, -I was very near the chaise when it rolled away; and I had a lively -impression made upon me, in the midst of the noise and dust, of having -seen Mr. Jack Maldon rattle past with an agitated face, and something -cherry-coloured in his hand. - -After another broadside for the Doctor, and another for the Doctor's -wife, the boys dispersed, and I went back into the house, where I found -the guests all standing in a group about the Doctor, discussing how Mr. -Jack Maldon had gone away, and how he had borne it, and how he had -felt it, and all the rest of it. In the midst of these remarks, Mrs. -Markleham cried: 'Where's Annie?' - -No Annie was there; and when they called to her, no Annie replied. But -all pressing out of the room, in a crowd, to see what was the matter, we -found her lying on the hall floor. There was great alarm at first, until -it was found that she was in a swoon, and that the swoon was yielding -to the usual means of recovery; when the Doctor, who had lifted her -head upon his knee, put her curls aside with his hand, and said, looking -around: - -'Poor Annie! She's so faithful and tender-hearted! It's the parting from -her old playfellow and friend--her favourite cousin--that has done this. -Ah! It's a pity! I am very sorry!' - -When she opened her eyes, and saw where she was, and that we were all -standing about her, she arose with assistance: turning her head, as she -did so, to lay it on the Doctor's shoulder--or to hide it, I don't know -which. We went into the drawing-room, to leave her with the Doctor and -her mother; but she said, it seemed, that she was better than she had -been since morning, and that she would rather be brought among us; so -they brought her in, looking very white and weak, I thought, and sat her -on a sofa. - -'Annie, my dear,' said her mother, doing something to her dress. 'See -here! You have lost a bow. Will anybody be so good as find a ribbon; a -cherry-coloured ribbon?' - -It was the one she had worn at her bosom. We all looked for it; I myself -looked everywhere, I am certain--but nobody could find it. - -'Do you recollect where you had it last, Annie?' said her mother. - -I wondered how I could have thought she looked white, or anything but -burning red, when she answered that she had had it safe, a little while -ago, she thought, but it was not worth looking for. - -Nevertheless, it was looked for again, and still not found. She -entreated that there might be no more searching; but it was still sought -for, in a desultory way, until she was quite well, and the company took -their departure. - -We walked very slowly home, Mr. Wickfield, Agnes, and I--Agnes and I -admiring the moonlight, and Mr. Wickfield scarcely raising his eyes from -the ground. When we, at last, reached our own door, Agnes discovered -that she had left her little reticule behind. Delighted to be of any -service to her, I ran back to fetch it. - -I went into the supper-room where it had been left, which was deserted -and dark. But a door of communication between that and the Doctor's -study, where there was a light, being open, I passed on there, to say -what I wanted, and to get a candle. - -The Doctor was sitting in his easy-chair by the fireside, and his young -wife was on a stool at his feet. The Doctor, with a complacent smile, -was reading aloud some manuscript explanation or statement of a theory -out of that interminable Dictionary, and she was looking up at him. But -with such a face as I never saw. It was so beautiful in its form, it was -so ashy pale, it was so fixed in its abstraction, it was so full of a -wild, sleep-walking, dreamy horror of I don't know what. The eyes -were wide open, and her brown hair fell in two rich clusters on her -shoulders, and on her white dress, disordered by the want of the lost -ribbon. Distinctly as I recollect her look, I cannot say of what it was -expressive, I cannot even say of what it is expressive to me now, rising -again before my older judgement. Penitence, humiliation, shame, pride, -love, and trustfulness--I see them all; and in them all, I see that -horror of I don't know what. - -My entrance, and my saying what I wanted, roused her. It disturbed the -Doctor too, for when I went back to replace the candle I had taken from -the table, he was patting her head, in his fatherly way, and saying he -was a merciless drone to let her tempt him into reading on; and he would -have her go to bed. - -But she asked him, in a rapid, urgent manner, to let her stay--to let -her feel assured (I heard her murmur some broken words to this effect) -that she was in his confidence that night. And, as she turned again -towards him, after glancing at me as I left the room and went out at the -door, I saw her cross her hands upon his knee, and look up at him with -the same face, something quieted, as he resumed his reading. - -It made a great impression on me, and I remembered it a long time -afterwards; as I shall have occasion to narrate when the time comes. - - - -CHAPTER 17. SOMEBODY TURNS UP - - -It has not occurred to me to mention Peggotty since I ran away; but, of -course, I wrote her a letter almost as soon as I was housed at Dover, -and another, and a longer letter, containing all particulars fully -related, when my aunt took me formally under her protection. On my being -settled at Doctor Strong's I wrote to her again, detailing my happy -condition and prospects. I never could have derived anything like the -pleasure from spending the money Mr. Dick had given me, that I felt in -sending a gold half-guinea to Peggotty, per post, enclosed in this last -letter, to discharge the sum I had borrowed of her: in which epistle, -not before, I mentioned about the young man with the donkey-cart. - -To these communications Peggotty replied as promptly, if not as -concisely, as a merchant's clerk. Her utmost powers of expression (which -were certainly not great in ink) were exhausted in the attempt to write -what she felt on the subject of my journey. Four sides of incoherent and -interjectional beginnings of sentences, that had no end, except blots, -were inadequate to afford her any relief. But the blots were more -expressive to me than the best composition; for they showed me that -Peggotty had been crying all over the paper, and what could I have -desired more? - -I made out, without much difficulty, that she could not take quite -kindly to my aunt yet. The notice was too short after so long a -prepossession the other way. We never knew a person, she wrote; but to -think that Miss Betsey should seem to be so different from what she had -been thought to be, was a Moral!--that was her word. She was evidently -still afraid of Miss Betsey, for she sent her grateful duty to her but -timidly; and she was evidently afraid of me, too, and entertained the -probability of my running away again soon: if I might judge from the -repeated hints she threw out, that the coach-fare to Yarmouth was always -to be had of her for the asking. - -She gave me one piece of intelligence which affected me very much, -namely, that there had been a sale of the furniture at our old home, and -that Mr. and Miss Murdstone were gone away, and the house was shut up, -to be let or sold. God knows I had no part in it while they remained -there, but it pained me to think of the dear old place as altogether -abandoned; of the weeds growing tall in the garden, and the fallen -leaves lying thick and wet upon the paths. I imagined how the winds -of winter would howl round it, how the cold rain would beat upon the -window-glass, how the moon would make ghosts on the walls of the empty -rooms, watching their solitude all night. I thought afresh of the grave -in the churchyard, underneath the tree: and it seemed as if the house -were dead too, now, and all connected with my father and mother were -faded away. - -There was no other news in Peggotty's letters. Mr. Barkis was an -excellent husband, she said, though still a little near; but we all had -our faults, and she had plenty (though I am sure I don't know what they -were); and he sent his duty, and my little bedroom was always ready for -me. Mr. Peggotty was well, and Ham was well, and Mrs. Gummidge was but -poorly, and little Em'ly wouldn't send her love, but said that Peggotty -might send it, if she liked. - -All this intelligence I dutifully imparted to my aunt, only reserving -to myself the mention of little Em'ly, to whom I instinctively felt -that she would not very tenderly incline. While I was yet new at Doctor -Strong's, she made several excursions over to Canterbury to see me, and -always at unseasonable hours: with the view, I suppose, of taking me by -surprise. But, finding me well employed, and bearing a good character, -and hearing on all hands that I rose fast in the school, she soon -discontinued these visits. I saw her on a Saturday, every third or -fourth week, when I went over to Dover for a treat; and I saw Mr. Dick -every alternate Wednesday, when he arrived by stage-coach at noon, to -stay until next morning. - -On these occasions Mr. Dick never travelled without a leathern -writing-desk, containing a supply of stationery and the Memorial; in -relation to which document he had a notion that time was beginning to -press now, and that it really must be got out of hand. - -Mr. Dick was very partial to gingerbread. To render his visits the more -agreeable, my aunt had instructed me to open a credit for him at a cake -shop, which was hampered with the stipulation that he should not be -served with more than one shilling's-worth in the course of any one day. -This, and the reference of all his little bills at the county inn where -he slept, to my aunt, before they were paid, induced me to suspect that -he was only allowed to rattle his money, and not to spend it. I found -on further investigation that this was so, or at least there was an -agreement between him and my aunt that he should account to her for -all his disbursements. As he had no idea of deceiving her, and always -desired to please her, he was thus made chary of launching into expense. -On this point, as well as on all other possible points, Mr. Dick was -convinced that my aunt was the wisest and most wonderful of women; as he -repeatedly told me with infinite secrecy, and always in a whisper. - -'Trotwood,' said Mr. Dick, with an air of mystery, after imparting this -confidence to me, one Wednesday; 'who's the man that hides near our -house and frightens her?' - -'Frightens my aunt, sir?' - -Mr. Dick nodded. 'I thought nothing would have frightened her,' he said, -'for she's--' here he whispered softly, 'don't mention it--the wisest -and most wonderful of women.' Having said which, he drew back, to -observe the effect which this description of her made upon me. - -'The first time he came,' said Mr. Dick, 'was--let me see--sixteen -hundred and forty-nine was the date of King Charles's execution. I think -you said sixteen hundred and forty-nine?' - -'Yes, sir.' - -'I don't know how it can be,' said Mr. Dick, sorely puzzled and shaking -his head. 'I don't think I am as old as that.' - -'Was it in that year that the man appeared, sir?' I asked. - -'Why, really' said Mr. Dick, 'I don't see how it can have been in that -year, Trotwood. Did you get that date out of history?' - -'Yes, sir.' - -'I suppose history never lies, does it?' said Mr. Dick, with a gleam of -hope. - -'Oh dear, no, sir!' I replied, most decisively. I was ingenuous and -young, and I thought so. - -'I can't make it out,' said Mr. Dick, shaking his head. 'There's -something wrong, somewhere. However, it was very soon after the mistake -was made of putting some of the trouble out of King Charles's head into -my head, that the man first came. I was walking out with Miss Trotwood -after tea, just at dark, and there he was, close to our house.' - -'Walking about?' I inquired. - -'Walking about?' repeated Mr. Dick. 'Let me see, I must recollect a bit. -N-no, no; he was not walking about.' - -I asked, as the shortest way to get at it, what he WAS doing. - -'Well, he wasn't there at all,' said Mr. Dick, 'until he came up behind -her, and whispered. Then she turned round and fainted, and I stood still -and looked at him, and he walked away; but that he should have -been hiding ever since (in the ground or somewhere), is the most -extraordinary thing!' - -'HAS he been hiding ever since?' I asked. - -'To be sure he has,' retorted Mr. Dick, nodding his head gravely. 'Never -came out, till last night! We were walking last night, and he came up -behind her again, and I knew him again.' - -'And did he frighten my aunt again?' - -'All of a shiver,' said Mr. Dick, counterfeiting that affection and -making his teeth chatter. 'Held by the palings. Cried. But, Trotwood, -come here,' getting me close to him, that he might whisper very softly; -'why did she give him money, boy, in the moonlight?' - -'He was a beggar, perhaps.' - -Mr. Dick shook his head, as utterly renouncing the suggestion; and -having replied a great many times, and with great confidence, 'No -beggar, no beggar, no beggar, sir!' went on to say, that from his window -he had afterwards, and late at night, seen my aunt give this person -money outside the garden rails in the moonlight, who then slunk -away--into the ground again, as he thought probable--and was seen no -more: while my aunt came hurriedly and secretly back into the house, and -had, even that morning, been quite different from her usual self; which -preyed on Mr. Dick's mind. - -I had not the least belief, in the outset of this story, that the -unknown was anything but a delusion of Mr. Dick's, and one of the line -of that ill-fated Prince who occasioned him so much difficulty; but -after some reflection I began to entertain the question whether an -attempt, or threat of an attempt, might have been twice made to take -poor Mr. Dick himself from under my aunt's protection, and whether -my aunt, the strength of whose kind feeling towards him I knew from -herself, might have been induced to pay a price for his peace and quiet. -As I was already much attached to Mr. Dick, and very solicitous for his -welfare, my fears favoured this supposition; and for a long time his -Wednesday hardly ever came round, without my entertaining a misgiving -that he would not be on the coach-box as usual. There he always -appeared, however, grey-headed, laughing, and happy; and he never had -anything more to tell of the man who could frighten my aunt. - -These Wednesdays were the happiest days of Mr. Dick's life; they were -far from being the least happy of mine. He soon became known to every -boy in the school; and though he never took an active part in any game -but kite-flying, was as deeply interested in all our sports as anyone -among us. How often have I seen him, intent upon a match at marbles -or pegtop, looking on with a face of unutterable interest, and hardly -breathing at the critical times! How often, at hare and hounds, have -I seen him mounted on a little knoll, cheering the whole field on -to action, and waving his hat above his grey head, oblivious of King -Charles the Martyr's head, and all belonging to it! How many a -summer hour have I known to be but blissful minutes to him in -the cricket-field! How many winter days have I seen him, standing -blue-nosed, in the snow and east wind, looking at the boys going down -the long slide, and clapping his worsted gloves in rapture! - -He was an universal favourite, and his ingenuity in little things was -transcendent. He could cut oranges into such devices as none of us had -an idea of. He could make a boat out of anything, from a skewer upwards. -He could turn cramp-bones into chessmen; fashion Roman chariots from old -court cards; make spoked wheels out of cotton reels, and bird-cages of -old wire. But he was greatest of all, perhaps, in the articles of string -and straw; with which we were all persuaded he could do anything that -could be done by hands. - -Mr. Dick's renown was not long confined to us. After a few Wednesdays, -Doctor Strong himself made some inquiries of me about him, and I told -him all my aunt had told me; which interested the Doctor so much that -he requested, on the occasion of his next visit, to be presented to him. -This ceremony I performed; and the Doctor begging Mr. Dick, whensoever -he should not find me at the coach office, to come on there, and rest -himself until our morning's work was over, it soon passed into a custom -for Mr. Dick to come on as a matter of course, and, if we were a little -late, as often happened on a Wednesday, to walk about the courtyard, -waiting for me. Here he made the acquaintance of the Doctor's beautiful -young wife (paler than formerly, all this time; more rarely seen by -me or anyone, I think; and not so gay, but not less beautiful), and so -became more and more familiar by degrees, until, at last, he would come -into the school and wait. He always sat in a particular corner, on a -particular stool, which was called 'Dick', after him; here he would sit, -with his grey head bent forward, attentively listening to whatever might -be going on, with a profound veneration for the learning he had never -been able to acquire. - -This veneration Mr. Dick extended to the Doctor, whom he thought the -most subtle and accomplished philosopher of any age. It was long before -Mr. Dick ever spoke to him otherwise than bareheaded; and even when he -and the Doctor had struck up quite a friendship, and would walk together -by the hour, on that side of the courtyard which was known among us as -The Doctor's Walk, Mr. Dick would pull off his hat at intervals to show -his respect for wisdom and knowledge. How it ever came about that the -Doctor began to read out scraps of the famous Dictionary, in these -walks, I never knew; perhaps he felt it all the same, at first, as -reading to himself. However, it passed into a custom too; and Mr. Dick, -listening with a face shining with pride and pleasure, in his heart of -hearts believed the Dictionary to be the most delightful book in the -world. - -As I think of them going up and down before those schoolroom -windows--the Doctor reading with his complacent smile, an occasional -flourish of the manuscript, or grave motion of his head; and Mr. Dick -listening, enchained by interest, with his poor wits calmly wandering -God knows where, upon the wings of hard words--I think of it as one of -the pleasantest things, in a quiet way, that I have ever seen. I feel -as if they might go walking to and fro for ever, and the world might -somehow be the better for it--as if a thousand things it makes a noise -about, were not one half so good for it, or me. - -Agnes was one of Mr. Dick's friends, very soon; and in often coming -to the house, he made acquaintance with Uriah. The friendship between -himself and me increased continually, and it was maintained on this odd -footing: that, while Mr. Dick came professedly to look after me as my -guardian, he always consulted me in any little matter of doubt that -arose, and invariably guided himself by my advice; not only having a -high respect for my native sagacity, but considering that I inherited a -good deal from my aunt. - -One Thursday morning, when I was about to walk with Mr. Dick from the -hotel to the coach office before going back to school (for we had an -hour's school before breakfast), I met Uriah in the street, who reminded -me of the promise I had made to take tea with himself and his mother: -adding, with a writhe, 'But I didn't expect you to keep it, Master -Copperfield, we're so very umble.' - -I really had not yet been able to make up my mind whether I liked Uriah -or detested him; and I was very doubtful about it still, as I stood -looking him in the face in the street. But I felt it quite an affront to -be supposed proud, and said I only wanted to be asked. - -'Oh, if that's all, Master Copperfield,' said Uriah, 'and it really -isn't our umbleness that prevents you, will you come this evening? -But if it is our umbleness, I hope you won't mind owning to it, Master -Copperfield; for we are well aware of our condition.' - -I said I would mention it to Mr. Wickfield, and if he approved, as I had -no doubt he would, I would come with pleasure. So, at six o'clock that -evening, which was one of the early office evenings, I announced myself -as ready, to Uriah. - -'Mother will be proud, indeed,' he said, as we walked away together. 'Or -she would be proud, if it wasn't sinful, Master Copperfield.' - -'Yet you didn't mind supposing I was proud this morning,' I returned. - -'Oh dear, no, Master Copperfield!' returned Uriah. 'Oh, believe me, no! -Such a thought never came into my head! I shouldn't have deemed it at -all proud if you had thought US too umble for you. Because we are so -very umble.' - -'Have you been studying much law lately?' I asked, to change the -subject. - -'Oh, Master Copperfield,' he said, with an air of self-denial, 'my -reading is hardly to be called study. I have passed an hour or two in -the evening, sometimes, with Mr. Tidd.' - -'Rather hard, I suppose?' said I. 'He is hard to me sometimes,' returned -Uriah. 'But I don't know what he might be to a gifted person.' - -After beating a little tune on his chin as he walked on, with the two -forefingers of his skeleton right hand, he added: - -'There are expressions, you see, Master Copperfield--Latin words -and terms--in Mr. Tidd, that are trying to a reader of my umble -attainments.' - -'Would you like to be taught Latin?' I said briskly. 'I will teach it -you with pleasure, as I learn it.' - -'Oh, thank you, Master Copperfield,' he answered, shaking his head. 'I -am sure it's very kind of you to make the offer, but I am much too umble -to accept it.' - -'What nonsense, Uriah!' - -'Oh, indeed you must excuse me, Master Copperfield! I am greatly -obliged, and I should like it of all things, I assure you; but I am far -too umble. There are people enough to tread upon me in my lowly state, -without my doing outrage to their feelings by possessing learning. -Learning ain't for me. A person like myself had better not aspire. If he -is to get on in life, he must get on umbly, Master Copperfield!' - -I never saw his mouth so wide, or the creases in his cheeks so deep, as -when he delivered himself of these sentiments: shaking his head all the -time, and writhing modestly. - -'I think you are wrong, Uriah,' I said. 'I dare say there are several -things that I could teach you, if you would like to learn them.' - -'Oh, I don't doubt that, Master Copperfield,' he answered; 'not in the -least. But not being umble yourself, you don't judge well, perhaps, for -them that are. I won't provoke my betters with knowledge, thank you. I'm -much too umble. Here is my umble dwelling, Master Copperfield!' - -We entered a low, old-fashioned room, walked straight into from the -street, and found there Mrs. Heep, who was the dead image of Uriah, only -short. She received me with the utmost humility, and apologized to me -for giving her son a kiss, observing that, lowly as they were, they -had their natural affections, which they hoped would give no offence to -anyone. It was a perfectly decent room, half parlour and half kitchen, -but not at all a snug room. The tea-things were set upon the table, and -the kettle was boiling on the hob. There was a chest of drawers with an -escritoire top, for Uriah to read or write at of an evening; there was -Uriah's blue bag lying down and vomiting papers; there was a company of -Uriah's books commanded by Mr. Tidd; there was a corner cupboard: and -there were the usual articles of furniture. I don't remember that any -individual object had a bare, pinched, spare look; but I do remember -that the whole place had. - -It was perhaps a part of Mrs. Heep's humility, that she still wore -weeds. Notwithstanding the lapse of time that had occurred since Mr. -Heep's decease, she still wore weeds. I think there was some compromise -in the cap; but otherwise she was as weedy as in the early days of her -mourning. - -'This is a day to be remembered, my Uriah, I am sure,' said Mrs. Heep, -making the tea, 'when Master Copperfield pays us a visit.' - -'I said you'd think so, mother,' said Uriah. - -'If I could have wished father to remain among us for any reason,' said -Mrs. Heep, 'it would have been, that he might have known his company -this afternoon.' - -I felt embarrassed by these compliments; but I was sensible, too, of -being entertained as an honoured guest, and I thought Mrs. Heep an -agreeable woman. - -'My Uriah,' said Mrs. Heep, 'has looked forward to this, sir, a long -while. He had his fears that our umbleness stood in the way, and I -joined in them myself. Umble we are, umble we have been, umble we shall -ever be,' said Mrs. Heep. - -'I am sure you have no occasion to be so, ma'am,' I said, 'unless you -like.' - -'Thank you, sir,' retorted Mrs. Heep. 'We know our station and are -thankful in it.' - -I found that Mrs. Heep gradually got nearer to me, and that Uriah -gradually got opposite to me, and that they respectfully plied me -with the choicest of the eatables on the table. There was nothing -particularly choice there, to be sure; but I took the will for the deed, -and felt that they were very attentive. Presently they began to talk -about aunts, and then I told them about mine; and about fathers and -mothers, and then I told them about mine; and then Mrs. Heep began to -talk about fathers-in-law, and then I began to tell her about mine--but -stopped, because my aunt had advised me to observe a silence on that -subject. A tender young cork, however, would have had no more chance -against a pair of corkscrews, or a tender young tooth against a pair of -dentists, or a little shuttlecock against two battledores, than I had -against Uriah and Mrs. Heep. They did just what they liked with me; and -wormed things out of me that I had no desire to tell, with a certainty -I blush to think of, the more especially, as in my juvenile frankness, I -took some credit to myself for being so confidential and felt that I was -quite the patron of my two respectful entertainers. - -They were very fond of one another: that was certain. I take it, that -had its effect upon me, as a touch of nature; but the skill with which -the one followed up whatever the other said, was a touch of art which I -was still less proof against. When there was nothing more to be got -out of me about myself (for on the Murdstone and Grinby life, and on my -journey, I was dumb), they began about Mr. Wickfield and Agnes. Uriah -threw the ball to Mrs. Heep, Mrs. Heep caught it and threw it back to -Uriah, Uriah kept it up a little while, then sent it back to Mrs. Heep, -and so they went on tossing it about until I had no idea who had got it, -and was quite bewildered. The ball itself was always changing too. Now -it was Mr. Wickfield, now Agnes, now the excellence of Mr. Wickfield, -now my admiration of Agnes; now the extent of Mr. Wickfield's business -and resources, now our domestic life after dinner; now, the wine that -Mr. Wickfield took, the reason why he took it, and the pity that it was -he took so much; now one thing, now another, then everything at once; -and all the time, without appearing to speak very often, or to do -anything but sometimes encourage them a little, for fear they should be -overcome by their humility and the honour of my company, I found myself -perpetually letting out something or other that I had no business to -let out and seeing the effect of it in the twinkling of Uriah's dinted -nostrils. - -I had begun to be a little uncomfortable, and to wish myself well out -of the visit, when a figure coming down the street passed the door--it -stood open to air the room, which was warm, the weather being close for -the time of year--came back again, looked in, and walked in, exclaiming -loudly, 'Copperfield! Is it possible?' - -It was Mr. Micawber! It was Mr. Micawber, with his eye-glass, and -his walking-stick, and his shirt-collar, and his genteel air, and the -condescending roll in his voice, all complete! - -'My dear Copperfield,' said Mr. Micawber, putting out his hand, 'this is -indeed a meeting which is calculated to impress the mind with a sense -of the instability and uncertainty of all human--in short, it is a most -extraordinary meeting. Walking along the street, reflecting upon the -probability of something turning up (of which I am at present rather -sanguine), I find a young but valued friend turn up, who is connected -with the most eventful period of my life; I may say, with the -turning-point of my existence. Copperfield, my dear fellow, how do you -do?' - -I cannot say--I really cannot say--that I was glad to see Mr. Micawber -there; but I was glad to see him too, and shook hands with him, -heartily, inquiring how Mrs. Micawber was. - -'Thank you,' said Mr. Micawber, waving his hand as of old, and settling -his chin in his shirt-collar. 'She is tolerably convalescent. The twins -no longer derive their sustenance from Nature's founts--in short,' said -Mr. Micawber, in one of his bursts of confidence, 'they are weaned--and -Mrs. Micawber is, at present, my travelling companion. She will be -rejoiced, Copperfield, to renew her acquaintance with one who has -proved himself in all respects a worthy minister at the sacred altar of -friendship.' - -I said I should be delighted to see her. - -'You are very good,' said Mr. Micawber. - -Mr. Micawber then smiled, settled his chin again, and looked about him. - -'I have discovered my friend Copperfield,' said Mr. Micawber genteelly, -and without addressing himself particularly to anyone, 'not in solitude, -but partaking of a social meal in company with a widow lady, and one who -is apparently her offspring--in short,' said Mr. Micawber, in another -of his bursts of confidence, 'her son. I shall esteem it an honour to be -presented.' - -I could do no less, under these circumstances, than make Mr. Micawber -known to Uriah Heep and his mother; which I accordingly did. As they -abased themselves before him, Mr. Micawber took a seat, and waved his -hand in his most courtly manner. - -'Any friend of my friend Copperfield's,' said Mr. Micawber, 'has a -personal claim upon myself.' - -'We are too umble, sir,' said Mrs. Heep, 'my son and me, to be the -friends of Master Copperfield. He has been so good as take his tea with -us, and we are thankful to him for his company, also to you, sir, for -your notice.' - -'Ma'am,' returned Mr. Micawber, with a bow, 'you are very obliging: and -what are you doing, Copperfield? Still in the wine trade?' - -I was excessively anxious to get Mr. Micawber away; and replied, with my -hat in my hand, and a very red face, I have no doubt, that I was a pupil -at Doctor Strong's. - -'A pupil?' said Mr. Micawber, raising his eyebrows. 'I am extremely -happy to hear it. Although a mind like my friend Copperfield's'--to -Uriah and Mrs. Heep--'does not require that cultivation which, without -his knowledge of men and things, it would require, still it is a rich -soil teeming with latent vegetation--in short,' said Mr. Micawber, -smiling, in another burst of confidence, 'it is an intellect capable of -getting up the classics to any extent.' - -Uriah, with his long hands slowly twining over one another, made a -ghastly writhe from the waist upwards, to express his concurrence in -this estimation of me. - -'Shall we go and see Mrs. Micawber, sir?' I said, to get Mr. Micawber -away. - -'If you will do her that favour, Copperfield,' replied Mr. Micawber, -rising. 'I have no scruple in saying, in the presence of our friends -here, that I am a man who has, for some years, contended against the -pressure of pecuniary difficulties.' I knew he was certain to say -something of this kind; he always would be so boastful about his -difficulties. 'Sometimes I have risen superior to my difficulties. -Sometimes my difficulties have--in short, have floored me. There have -been times when I have administered a succession of facers to them; -there have been times when they have been too many for me, and I have -given in, and said to Mrs. Micawber, in the words of Cato, "Plato, thou -reasonest well. It's all up now. I can show fight no more." But at no -time of my life,' said Mr. Micawber, 'have I enjoyed a higher degree of -satisfaction than in pouring my griefs (if I may describe difficulties, -chiefly arising out of warrants of attorney and promissory notes at two -and four months, by that word) into the bosom of my friend Copperfield.' - -Mr. Micawber closed this handsome tribute by saying, 'Mr. Heep! Good -evening. Mrs. Heep! Your servant,' and then walking out with me in his -most fashionable manner, making a good deal of noise on the pavement -with his shoes, and humming a tune as we went. - -It was a little inn where Mr. Micawber put up, and he occupied a little -room in it, partitioned off from the commercial room, and strongly -flavoured with tobacco-smoke. I think it was over the kitchen, because -a warm greasy smell appeared to come up through the chinks in the floor, -and there was a flabby perspiration on the walls. I know it was near the -bar, on account of the smell of spirits and jingling of glasses. Here, -recumbent on a small sofa, underneath a picture of a race-horse, with -her head close to the fire, and her feet pushing the mustard off the -dumb-waiter at the other end of the room, was Mrs. Micawber, to whom Mr. -Micawber entered first, saying, 'My dear, allow me to introduce to you a -pupil of Doctor Strong's.' - -I noticed, by the by, that although Mr. Micawber was just as much -confused as ever about my age and standing, he always remembered, as a -genteel thing, that I was a pupil of Doctor Strong's. - -Mrs. Micawber was amazed, but very glad to see me. I was very glad to -see her too, and, after an affectionate greeting on both sides, sat down -on the small sofa near her. - -'My dear,' said Mr. Micawber, 'if you will mention to Copperfield what -our present position is, which I have no doubt he will like to know, I -will go and look at the paper the while, and see whether anything turns -up among the advertisements.' - -'I thought you were at Plymouth, ma'am,' I said to Mrs. Micawber, as he -went out. - -'My dear Master Copperfield,' she replied, 'we went to Plymouth.' - -'To be on the spot,' I hinted. - -'Just so,' said Mrs. Micawber. 'To be on the spot. But, the truth is, -talent is not wanted in the Custom House. The local influence of my -family was quite unavailing to obtain any employment in that department, -for a man of Mr. Micawber's abilities. They would rather NOT have a man -of Mr. Micawber's abilities. He would only show the deficiency of the -others. Apart from which,' said Mrs. Micawber, 'I will not disguise -from you, my dear Master Copperfield, that when that branch of my -family which is settled in Plymouth, became aware that Mr. Micawber was -accompanied by myself, and by little Wilkins and his sister, and by the -twins, they did not receive him with that ardour which he might have -expected, being so newly released from captivity. In fact,' said Mrs. -Micawber, lowering her voice,--'this is between ourselves--our reception -was cool.' - -'Dear me!' I said. - -'Yes,' said Mrs. Micawber. 'It is truly painful to contemplate mankind -in such an aspect, Master Copperfield, but our reception was, decidedly, -cool. There is no doubt about it. In fact, that branch of my family -which is settled in Plymouth became quite personal to Mr. Micawber, -before we had been there a week.' - -I said, and thought, that they ought to be ashamed of themselves. - -'Still, so it was,' continued Mrs. Micawber. 'Under such circumstances, -what could a man of Mr. Micawber's spirit do? But one obvious course -was left. To borrow, of that branch of my family, the money to return to -London, and to return at any sacrifice.' - -'Then you all came back again, ma'am?' I said. - -'We all came back again,' replied Mrs. Micawber. 'Since then, I have -consulted other branches of my family on the course which it is most -expedient for Mr. Micawber to take--for I maintain that he must take -some course, Master Copperfield,' said Mrs. Micawber, argumentatively. -'It is clear that a family of six, not including a domestic, cannot live -upon air.' - -'Certainly, ma'am,' said I. - -'The opinion of those other branches of my family,' pursued Mrs. -Micawber, 'is, that Mr. Micawber should immediately turn his attention -to coals.' - -'To what, ma'am?' - -'To coals,' said Mrs. Micawber. 'To the coal trade. Mr. Micawber was -induced to think, on inquiry, that there might be an opening for a -man of his talent in the Medway Coal Trade. Then, as Mr. Micawber very -properly said, the first step to be taken clearly was, to come and see -the Medway. Which we came and saw. I say "we", Master Copperfield; for -I never will,' said Mrs. Micawber with emotion, 'I never will desert Mr. -Micawber.' - -I murmured my admiration and approbation. - -'We came,' repeated Mrs. Micawber, 'and saw the Medway. My opinion of -the coal trade on that river is, that it may require talent, but that -it certainly requires capital. Talent, Mr. Micawber has; capital, Mr. -Micawber has not. We saw, I think, the greater part of the Medway; and -that is my individual conclusion. Being so near here, Mr. Micawber was -of opinion that it would be rash not to come on, and see the Cathedral. -Firstly, on account of its being so well worth seeing, and our never -having seen it; and secondly, on account of the great probability of -something turning up in a cathedral town. We have been here,' said Mrs. -Micawber, 'three days. Nothing has, as yet, turned up; and it may -not surprise you, my dear Master Copperfield, so much as it would a -stranger, to know that we are at present waiting for a remittance from -London, to discharge our pecuniary obligations at this hotel. Until the -arrival of that remittance,' said Mrs. Micawber with much feeling, 'I am -cut off from my home (I allude to lodgings in Pentonville), from my boy -and girl, and from my twins.' - -I felt the utmost sympathy for Mr. and Mrs. Micawber in this anxious -extremity, and said as much to Mr. Micawber, who now returned: adding -that I only wished I had money enough, to lend them the amount they -needed. Mr. Micawber's answer expressed the disturbance of his mind. He -said, shaking hands with me, 'Copperfield, you are a true friend; but -when the worst comes to the worst, no man is without a friend who is -possessed of shaving materials.' At this dreadful hint Mrs. Micawber -threw her arms round Mr. Micawber's neck and entreated him to be calm. -He wept; but so far recovered, almost immediately, as to ring the bell -for the waiter, and bespeak a hot kidney pudding and a plate of shrimps -for breakfast in the morning. - -When I took my leave of them, they both pressed me so much to come and -dine before they went away, that I could not refuse. But, as I knew I -could not come next day, when I should have a good deal to prepare in -the evening, Mr. Micawber arranged that he would call at Doctor Strong's -in the course of the morning (having a presentiment that the remittance -would arrive by that post), and propose the day after, if it would suit -me better. Accordingly I was called out of school next forenoon, and -found Mr. Micawber in the parlour; who had called to say that the dinner -would take place as proposed. When I asked him if the remittance had -come, he pressed my hand and departed. - -As I was looking out of window that same evening, it surprised me, and -made me rather uneasy, to see Mr. Micawber and Uriah Heep walk past, arm -in arm: Uriah humbly sensible of the honour that was done him, and Mr. -Micawber taking a bland delight in extending his patronage to Uriah. But -I was still more surprised, when I went to the little hotel next day at -the appointed dinner-hour, which was four o'clock, to find, from what -Mr. Micawber said, that he had gone home with Uriah, and had drunk -brandy-and-water at Mrs. Heep's. - -'And I'll tell you what, my dear Copperfield,' said Mr. Micawber, 'your -friend Heep is a young fellow who might be attorney-general. If I had -known that young man, at the period when my difficulties came to a -crisis, all I can say is, that I believe my creditors would have been a -great deal better managed than they were.' - -I hardly understood how this could have been, seeing that Mr. Micawber -had paid them nothing at all as it was; but I did not like to -ask. Neither did I like to say, that I hoped he had not been too -communicative to Uriah; or to inquire if they had talked much about me. -I was afraid of hurting Mr. Micawber's feelings, or, at all events, Mrs. -Micawber's, she being very sensitive; but I was uncomfortable about it, -too, and often thought about it afterwards. - -We had a beautiful little dinner. Quite an elegant dish of fish; the -kidney-end of a loin of veal, roasted; fried sausage-meat; a partridge, -and a pudding. There was wine, and there was strong ale; and after -dinner Mrs. Micawber made us a bowl of hot punch with her own hands. - -Mr. Micawber was uncommonly convivial. I never saw him such good -company. He made his face shine with the punch, so that it looked as if -it had been varnished all over. He got cheerfully sentimental about -the town, and proposed success to it; observing that Mrs. Micawber and -himself had been made extremely snug and comfortable there and that he -never should forget the agreeable hours they had passed in Canterbury. -He proposed me afterwards; and he, and Mrs. Micawber, and I, took a -review of our past acquaintance, in the course of which we sold the -property all over again. Then I proposed Mrs. Micawber: or, at least, -said, modestly, 'If you'll allow me, Mrs. Micawber, I shall now have -the pleasure of drinking your health, ma'am.' On which Mr. Micawber -delivered an eulogium on Mrs. Micawber's character, and said she -had ever been his guide, philosopher, and friend, and that he would -recommend me, when I came to a marrying time of life, to marry such -another woman, if such another woman could be found. - -As the punch disappeared, Mr. Micawber became still more friendly and -convivial. Mrs. Micawber's spirits becoming elevated, too, we sang 'Auld -Lang Syne'. When we came to 'Here's a hand, my trusty frere', we all -joined hands round the table; and when we declared we would 'take a -right gude Willie Waught', and hadn't the least idea what it meant, we -were really affected. - -In a word, I never saw anybody so thoroughly jovial as Mr. Micawber -was, down to the very last moment of the evening, when I took a hearty -farewell of himself and his amiable wife. Consequently, I was not -prepared, at seven o'clock next morning, to receive the following -communication, dated half past nine in the evening; a quarter of an hour -after I had left him:-- - -'My DEAR YOUNG FRIEND, - -'The die is cast--all is over. Hiding the ravages of care with a sickly -mask of mirth, I have not informed you, this evening, that there is no -hope of the remittance! Under these circumstances, alike humiliating to -endure, humiliating to contemplate, and humiliating to relate, I have -discharged the pecuniary liability contracted at this establishment, -by giving a note of hand, made payable fourteen days after date, at -my residence, Pentonville, London. When it becomes due, it will not be -taken up. The result is destruction. The bolt is impending, and the tree -must fall. - -'Let the wretched man who now addresses you, my dear Copperfield, be a -beacon to you through life. He writes with that intention, and in that -hope. If he could think himself of so much use, one gleam of day might, -by possibility, penetrate into the cheerless dungeon of his remaining -existence--though his longevity is, at present (to say the least of it), -extremely problematical. - -'This is the last communication, my dear Copperfield, you will ever -receive - - 'From - - 'The - - 'Beggared Outcast, - - 'WILKINS MICAWBER.' - - -I was so shocked by the contents of this heart-rending letter, that I -ran off directly towards the little hotel with the intention of taking -it on my way to Doctor Strong's, and trying to soothe Mr. Micawber with -a word of comfort. But, half-way there, I met the London coach with Mr. -and Mrs. Micawber up behind; Mr. Micawber, the very picture of tranquil -enjoyment, smiling at Mrs. Micawber's conversation, eating walnuts out -of a paper bag, with a bottle sticking out of his breast pocket. As they -did not see me, I thought it best, all things considered, not to -see them. So, with a great weight taken off my mind, I turned into a -by-street that was the nearest way to school, and felt, upon the whole, -relieved that they were gone; though I still liked them very much, -nevertheless. - - - -CHAPTER 18. A RETROSPECT - - -My school-days! The silent gliding on of my existence--the unseen, -unfelt progress of my life--from childhood up to youth! Let me think, -as I look back upon that flowing water, now a dry channel overgrown with -leaves, whether there are any marks along its course, by which I can -remember how it ran. - -A moment, and I occupy my place in the Cathedral, where we all went -together, every Sunday morning, assembling first at school for that -purpose. The earthy smell, the sunless air, the sensation of the world -being shut out, the resounding of the organ through the black and white -arched galleries and aisles, are wings that take me back, and hold me -hovering above those days, in a half-sleeping and half-waking dream. - -I am not the last boy in the school. I have risen in a few months, over -several heads. But the first boy seems to me a mighty creature, dwelling -afar off, whose giddy height is unattainable. Agnes says 'No,' but I say -'Yes,' and tell her that she little thinks what stores of knowledge have -been mastered by the wonderful Being, at whose place she thinks I, even -I, weak aspirant, may arrive in time. He is not my private friend -and public patron, as Steerforth was, but I hold him in a reverential -respect. I chiefly wonder what he'll be, when he leaves Doctor Strong's, -and what mankind will do to maintain any place against him. - -But who is this that breaks upon me? This is Miss Shepherd, whom I love. - -Miss Shepherd is a boarder at the Misses Nettingalls' establishment. I -adore Miss Shepherd. She is a little girl, in a spencer, with a round -face and curly flaxen hair. The Misses Nettingalls' young ladies come to -the Cathedral too. I cannot look upon my book, for I must look upon -Miss Shepherd. When the choristers chaunt, I hear Miss Shepherd. In the -service I mentally insert Miss Shepherd's name--I put her in among the -Royal Family. At home, in my own room, I am sometimes moved to cry out, -'Oh, Miss Shepherd!' in a transport of love. - -For some time, I am doubtful of Miss Shepherd's feelings, but, at -length, Fate being propitious, we meet at the dancing-school. I have -Miss Shepherd for my partner. I touch Miss Shepherd's glove, and feel a -thrill go up the right arm of my jacket, and come out at my hair. I say -nothing to Miss Shepherd, but we understand each other. Miss Shepherd -and myself live but to be united. - -Why do I secretly give Miss Shepherd twelve Brazil nuts for a present, I -wonder? They are not expressive of affection, they are difficult to pack -into a parcel of any regular shape, they are hard to crack, even in -room doors, and they are oily when cracked; yet I feel that they are -appropriate to Miss Shepherd. Soft, seedy biscuits, also, I bestow upon -Miss Shepherd; and oranges innumerable. Once, I kiss Miss Shepherd in -the cloak-room. Ecstasy! What are my agony and indignation next day, -when I hear a flying rumour that the Misses Nettingall have stood Miss -Shepherd in the stocks for turning in her toes! - -Miss Shepherd being the one pervading theme and vision of my life, how -do I ever come to break with her? I can't conceive. And yet a coolness -grows between Miss Shepherd and myself. Whispers reach me of Miss -Shepherd having said she wished I wouldn't stare so, and having avowed a -preference for Master Jones--for Jones! a boy of no merit whatever! The -gulf between me and Miss Shepherd widens. At last, one day, I meet the -Misses Nettingalls' establishment out walking. Miss Shepherd makes -a face as she goes by, and laughs to her companion. All is over. The -devotion of a life--it seems a life, it is all the same--is at an end; -Miss Shepherd comes out of the morning service, and the Royal Family -know her no more. - -I am higher in the school, and no one breaks my peace. I am not at all -polite, now, to the Misses Nettingalls' young ladies, and shouldn't -dote on any of them, if they were twice as many and twenty times as -beautiful. I think the dancing-school a tiresome affair, and wonder why -the girls can't dance by themselves and leave us alone. I am growing -great in Latin verses, and neglect the laces of my boots. Doctor Strong -refers to me in public as a promising young scholar. Mr. Dick is wild -with joy, and my aunt remits me a guinea by the next post. - -The shade of a young butcher rises, like the apparition of an armed head -in Macbeth. Who is this young butcher? He is the terror of the youth -of Canterbury. There is a vague belief abroad, that the beef suet with -which he anoints his hair gives him unnatural strength, and that he is -a match for a man. He is a broad-faced, bull-necked, young butcher, with -rough red cheeks, an ill-conditioned mind, and an injurious tongue. -His main use of this tongue, is, to disparage Doctor Strong's young -gentlemen. He says, publicly, that if they want anything he'll give it -'em. He names individuals among them (myself included), whom he could -undertake to settle with one hand, and the other tied behind him. He -waylays the smaller boys to punch their unprotected heads, and calls -challenges after me in the open streets. For these sufficient reasons I -resolve to fight the butcher. - -It is a summer evening, down in a green hollow, at the corner of a wall. -I meet the butcher by appointment. I am attended by a select body of our -boys; the butcher, by two other butchers, a young publican, and a sweep. -The preliminaries are adjusted, and the butcher and myself stand face to -face. In a moment the butcher lights ten thousand candles out of my left -eyebrow. In another moment, I don't know where the wall is, or where -I am, or where anybody is. I hardly know which is myself and which the -butcher, we are always in such a tangle and tussle, knocking about upon -the trodden grass. Sometimes I see the butcher, bloody but confident; -sometimes I see nothing, and sit gasping on my second's knee; sometimes -I go in at the butcher madly, and cut my knuckles open against his face, -without appearing to discompose him at all. At last I awake, very queer -about the head, as from a giddy sleep, and see the butcher walking off, -congratulated by the two other butchers and the sweep and publican, and -putting on his coat as he goes; from which I augur, justly, that the -victory is his. - -I am taken home in a sad plight, and I have beef-steaks put to my eyes, -and am rubbed with vinegar and brandy, and find a great puffy place -bursting out on my upper lip, which swells immoderately. For three or -four days I remain at home, a very ill-looking subject, with a green -shade over my eyes; and I should be very dull, but that Agnes is a -sister to me, and condoles with me, and reads to me, and makes the time -light and happy. Agnes has my confidence completely, always; I tell her -all about the butcher, and the wrongs he has heaped upon me; she thinks -I couldn't have done otherwise than fight the butcher, while she shrinks -and trembles at my having fought him. - -Time has stolen on unobserved, for Adams is not the head-boy in the days -that are come now, nor has he been this many and many a day. Adams has -left the school so long, that when he comes back, on a visit to Doctor -Strong, there are not many there, besides myself, who know him. Adams is -going to be called to the bar almost directly, and is to be an advocate, -and to wear a wig. I am surprised to find him a meeker man than I had -thought, and less imposing in appearance. He has not staggered the world -yet, either; for it goes on (as well as I can make out) pretty much the -same as if he had never joined it. - -A blank, through which the warriors of poetry and history march on in -stately hosts that seem to have no end--and what comes next! I am -the head-boy, now! I look down on the line of boys below me, with a -condescending interest in such of them as bring to my mind the boy I was -myself, when I first came there. That little fellow seems to be no part -of me; I remember him as something left behind upon the road of life--as -something I have passed, rather than have actually been--and almost -think of him as of someone else. - -And the little girl I saw on that first day at Mr. Wickfield's, where -is she? Gone also. In her stead, the perfect likeness of the picture, -a child likeness no more, moves about the house; and Agnes--my sweet -sister, as I call her in my thoughts, my counsellor and friend, the -better angel of the lives of all who come within her calm, good, -self-denying influence--is quite a woman. - -What other changes have come upon me, besides the changes in my growth -and looks, and in the knowledge I have garnered all this while? I wear -a gold watch and chain, a ring upon my little finger, and a long-tailed -coat; and I use a great deal of bear's grease--which, taken in -conjunction with the ring, looks bad. Am I in love again? I am. I -worship the eldest Miss Larkins. - -The eldest Miss Larkins is not a little girl. She is a tall, dark, -black-eyed, fine figure of a woman. The eldest Miss Larkins is not a -chicken; for the youngest Miss Larkins is not that, and the eldest must -be three or four years older. Perhaps the eldest Miss Larkins may be -about thirty. My passion for her is beyond all bounds. - -The eldest Miss Larkins knows officers. It is an awful thing to bear. I -see them speaking to her in the street. I see them cross the way to meet -her, when her bonnet (she has a bright taste in bonnets) is seen coming -down the pavement, accompanied by her sister's bonnet. She laughs and -talks, and seems to like it. I spend a good deal of my own spare time in -walking up and down to meet her. If I can bow to her once in the day (I -know her to bow to, knowing Mr. Larkins), I am happier. I deserve a bow -now and then. The raging agonies I suffer on the night of the Race Ball, -where I know the eldest Miss Larkins will be dancing with the military, -ought to have some compensation, if there be even-handed justice in the -world. - -My passion takes away my appetite, and makes me wear my newest silk -neckerchief continually. I have no relief but in putting on my best -clothes, and having my boots cleaned over and over again. I seem, then, -to be worthier of the eldest Miss Larkins. Everything that belongs to -her, or is connected with her, is precious to me. Mr. Larkins (a gruff -old gentleman with a double chin, and one of his eyes immovable in his -head) is fraught with interest to me. When I can't meet his daughter, -I go where I am likely to meet him. To say 'How do you do, Mr. Larkins? -Are the young ladies and all the family quite well?' seems so pointed, -that I blush. - -I think continually about my age. Say I am seventeen, and say that -seventeen is young for the eldest Miss Larkins, what of that? Besides, -I shall be one-and-twenty in no time almost. I regularly take walks -outside Mr. Larkins's house in the evening, though it cuts me to the -heart to see the officers go in, or to hear them up in the drawing-room, -where the eldest Miss Larkins plays the harp. I even walk, on two or -three occasions, in a sickly, spoony manner, round and round the house -after the family are gone to bed, wondering which is the eldest Miss -Larkins's chamber (and pitching, I dare say now, on Mr. Larkins's -instead); wishing that a fire would burst out; that the assembled crowd -would stand appalled; that I, dashing through them with a ladder, might -rear it against her window, save her in my arms, go back for something -she had left behind, and perish in the flames. For I am generally -disinterested in my love, and think I could be content to make a figure -before Miss Larkins, and expire. - -Generally, but not always. Sometimes brighter visions rise before me. -When I dress (the occupation of two hours), for a great ball given at -the Larkins's (the anticipation of three weeks), I indulge my fancy with -pleasing images. I picture myself taking courage to make a declaration -to Miss Larkins. I picture Miss Larkins sinking her head upon my -shoulder, and saying, 'Oh, Mr. Copperfield, can I believe my ears!' I -picture Mr. Larkins waiting on me next morning, and saying, 'My dear -Copperfield, my daughter has told me all. Youth is no objection. Here -are twenty thousand pounds. Be happy!' I picture my aunt relenting, -and blessing us; and Mr. Dick and Doctor Strong being present at the -marriage ceremony. I am a sensible fellow, I believe--I believe, -on looking back, I mean--and modest I am sure; but all this goes on -notwithstanding. I repair to the enchanted house, where there are -lights, chattering, music, flowers, officers (I am sorry to see), and -the eldest Miss Larkins, a blaze of beauty. She is dressed in blue, with -blue flowers in her hair--forget-me-nots--as if SHE had any need to wear -forget-me-nots. It is the first really grown-up party that I have ever -been invited to, and I am a little uncomfortable; for I appear not to -belong to anybody, and nobody appears to have anything to say to me, -except Mr. Larkins, who asks me how my schoolfellows are, which he -needn't do, as I have not come there to be insulted. - -But after I have stood in the doorway for some time, and feasted my eyes -upon the goddess of my heart, she approaches me--she, the eldest Miss -Larkins!--and asks me pleasantly, if I dance? - -I stammer, with a bow, 'With you, Miss Larkins.' - -'With no one else?' inquires Miss Larkins. - -'I should have no pleasure in dancing with anyone else.' - -Miss Larkins laughs and blushes (or I think she blushes), and says, -'Next time but one, I shall be very glad.' - -The time arrives. 'It is a waltz, I think,' Miss Larkins doubtfully -observes, when I present myself. 'Do you waltz? If not, Captain -Bailey--' - -But I do waltz (pretty well, too, as it happens), and I take Miss -Larkins out. I take her sternly from the side of Captain Bailey. He -is wretched, I have no doubt; but he is nothing to me. I have been -wretched, too. I waltz with the eldest Miss Larkins! I don't know where, -among whom, or how long. I only know that I swim about in space, with a -blue angel, in a state of blissful delirium, until I find myself alone -with her in a little room, resting on a sofa. She admires a flower (pink -camellia japonica, price half-a-crown), in my button-hole. I give it -her, and say: - -'I ask an inestimable price for it, Miss Larkins.' - -'Indeed! What is that?' returns Miss Larkins. - -'A flower of yours, that I may treasure it as a miser does gold.' - -'You're a bold boy,' says Miss Larkins. 'There.' - -She gives it me, not displeased; and I put it to my lips, and then into -my breast. Miss Larkins, laughing, draws her hand through my arm, and -says, 'Now take me back to Captain Bailey.' - -I am lost in the recollection of this delicious interview, and the -waltz, when she comes to me again, with a plain elderly gentleman who -has been playing whist all night, upon her arm, and says: - -'Oh! here is my bold friend! Mr. Chestle wants to know you, Mr. -Copperfield.' - -I feel at once that he is a friend of the family, and am much gratified. - -'I admire your taste, sir,' says Mr. Chestle. 'It does you credit. I -suppose you don't take much interest in hops; but I am a pretty -large grower myself; and if you ever like to come over to our -neighbourhood--neighbourhood of Ashford--and take a run about our -place,--we shall be glad for you to stop as long as you like.' - -I thank Mr. Chestle warmly, and shake hands. I think I am in a happy -dream. I waltz with the eldest Miss Larkins once again. She says I -waltz so well! I go home in a state of unspeakable bliss, and waltz in -imagination, all night long, with my arm round the blue waist of my dear -divinity. For some days afterwards, I am lost in rapturous reflections; -but I neither see her in the street, nor when I call. I am imperfectly -consoled for this disappointment by the sacred pledge, the perished -flower. - -'Trotwood,' says Agnes, one day after dinner. 'Who do you think is going -to be married tomorrow? Someone you admire.' - -'Not you, I suppose, Agnes?' - -'Not me!' raising her cheerful face from the music she is copying. 'Do -you hear him, Papa?--The eldest Miss Larkins.' - -'To--to Captain Bailey?' I have just enough power to ask. - -'No; to no Captain. To Mr. Chestle, a hop-grower.' - -I am terribly dejected for about a week or two. I take off my ring, I -wear my worst clothes, I use no bear's grease, and I frequently lament -over the late Miss Larkins's faded flower. Being, by that time, rather -tired of this kind of life, and having received new provocation from -the butcher, I throw the flower away, go out with the butcher, and -gloriously defeat him. - -This, and the resumption of my ring, as well as of the bear's grease -in moderation, are the last marks I can discern, now, in my progress to -seventeen. - - - -CHAPTER 19. I LOOK ABOUT ME, AND MAKE A DISCOVERY - - -I am doubtful whether I was at heart glad or sorry, when my school-days -drew to an end, and the time came for my leaving Doctor Strong's. I had -been very happy there, I had a great attachment for the Doctor, and I -was eminent and distinguished in that little world. For these reasons -I was sorry to go; but for other reasons, unsubstantial enough, I -was glad. Misty ideas of being a young man at my own disposal, of -the importance attaching to a young man at his own disposal, of the -wonderful things to be seen and done by that magnificent animal, and the -wonderful effects he could not fail to make upon society, lured me away. -So powerful were these visionary considerations in my boyish mind, that -I seem, according to my present way of thinking, to have left school -without natural regret. The separation has not made the impression on -me, that other separations have. I try in vain to recall how I felt -about it, and what its circumstances were; but it is not momentous in my -recollection. I suppose the opening prospect confused me. I know that my -juvenile experiences went for little or nothing then; and that life was -more like a great fairy story, which I was just about to begin to read, -than anything else. - -My aunt and I had held many grave deliberations on the calling to which -I should be devoted. For a year or more I had endeavoured to find a -satisfactory answer to her often-repeated question, 'What I would like -to be?' But I had no particular liking, that I could discover, for -anything. If I could have been inspired with a knowledge of the science -of navigation, taken the command of a fast-sailing expedition, and gone -round the world on a triumphant voyage of discovery, I think I might -have considered myself completely suited. But, in the absence of any -such miraculous provision, my desire was to apply myself to some pursuit -that would not lie too heavily upon her purse; and to do my duty in it, -whatever it might be. - -Mr. Dick had regularly assisted at our councils, with a meditative -and sage demeanour. He never made a suggestion but once; and on that -occasion (I don't know what put it in his head), he suddenly proposed -that I should be 'a Brazier'. My aunt received this proposal so very -ungraciously, that he never ventured on a second; but ever afterwards -confined himself to looking watchfully at her for her suggestions, and -rattling his money. - -'Trot, I tell you what, my dear,' said my aunt, one morning in the -Christmas season when I left school: 'as this knotty point is still -unsettled, and as we must not make a mistake in our decision if we can -help it, I think we had better take a little breathing-time. In the -meanwhile, you must try to look at it from a new point of view, and not -as a schoolboy.' - -'I will, aunt.' - -'It has occurred to me,' pursued my aunt, 'that a little change, and a -glimpse of life out of doors, may be useful in helping you to know your -own mind, and form a cooler judgement. Suppose you were to go down into -the old part of the country again, for instance, and see that--that -out-of-the-way woman with the savagest of names,' said my aunt, rubbing -her nose, for she could never thoroughly forgive Peggotty for being so -called. - -'Of all things in the world, aunt, I should like it best!' - -'Well,' said my aunt, 'that's lucky, for I should like it too. But -it's natural and rational that you should like it. And I am very -well persuaded that whatever you do, Trot, will always be natural and -rational.' - -'I hope so, aunt.' - -'Your sister, Betsey Trotwood,' said my aunt, 'would have been as -natural and rational a girl as ever breathed. You'll be worthy of her, -won't you?' - -'I hope I shall be worthy of YOU, aunt. That will be enough for me.' - -'It's a mercy that poor dear baby of a mother of yours didn't live,' -said my aunt, looking at me approvingly, 'or she'd have been so vain -of her boy by this time, that her soft little head would have been -completely turned, if there was anything of it left to turn.' (My aunt -always excused any weakness of her own in my behalf, by transferring it -in this way to my poor mother.) 'Bless me, Trotwood, how you do remind -me of her!' - -'Pleasantly, I hope, aunt?' said I. - -'He's as like her, Dick,' said my aunt, emphatically, 'he's as like her, -as she was that afternoon before she began to fret--bless my heart, he's -as like her, as he can look at me out of his two eyes!' - -'Is he indeed?' said Mr. Dick. - -'And he's like David, too,' said my aunt, decisively. - -'He is very like David!' said Mr. Dick. - -'But what I want you to be, Trot,' resumed my aunt, '--I don't mean -physically, but morally; you are very well physically--is, a firm -fellow. A fine firm fellow, with a will of your own. With resolution,' -said my aunt, shaking her cap at me, and clenching her hand. 'With -determination. With character, Trot--with strength of character that is -not to be influenced, except on good reason, by anybody, or by anything. -That's what I want you to be. That's what your father and mother might -both have been, Heaven knows, and been the better for it.' - -I intimated that I hoped I should be what she described. - -'That you may begin, in a small way, to have a reliance upon yourself, -and to act for yourself,' said my aunt, 'I shall send you upon your -trip, alone. I did think, once, of Mr. Dick's going with you; but, on -second thoughts, I shall keep him to take care of me.' - -Mr. Dick, for a moment, looked a little disappointed; until the honour -and dignity of having to take care of the most wonderful woman in the -world, restored the sunshine to his face. - -'Besides,' said my aunt, 'there's the Memorial--' - -'Oh, certainly,' said Mr. Dick, in a hurry, 'I intend, Trotwood, to get -that done immediately--it really must be done immediately! And then it -will go in, you know--and then--' said Mr. Dick, after checking himself, -and pausing a long time, 'there'll be a pretty kettle of fish!' - -In pursuance of my aunt's kind scheme, I was shortly afterwards fitted -out with a handsome purse of money, and a portmanteau, and tenderly -dismissed upon my expedition. At parting, my aunt gave me some good -advice, and a good many kisses; and said that as her object was that I -should look about me, and should think a little, she would recommend me -to stay a few days in London, if I liked it, either on my way down into -Suffolk, or in coming back. In a word, I was at liberty to do what I -would, for three weeks or a month; and no other conditions were imposed -upon my freedom than the before-mentioned thinking and looking about me, -and a pledge to write three times a week and faithfully report myself. - -I went to Canterbury first, that I might take leave of Agnes and Mr. -Wickfield (my old room in whose house I had not yet relinquished), and -also of the good Doctor. Agnes was very glad to see me, and told me that -the house had not been like itself since I had left it. - -'I am sure I am not like myself when I am away,' said I. 'I seem to -want my right hand, when I miss you. Though that's not saying much; for -there's no head in my right hand, and no heart. Everyone who knows you, -consults with you, and is guided by you, Agnes.' - -'Everyone who knows me, spoils me, I believe,' she answered, smiling. - -'No. It's because you are like no one else. You are so good, and so -sweet-tempered. You have such a gentle nature, and you are always -right.' - -'You talk,' said Agnes, breaking into a pleasant laugh, as she sat at -work, 'as if I were the late Miss Larkins.' - -'Come! It's not fair to abuse my confidence,' I answered, reddening at -the recollection of my blue enslaver. 'But I shall confide in you, just -the same, Agnes. I can never grow out of that. Whenever I fall into -trouble, or fall in love, I shall always tell you, if you'll let -me--even when I come to fall in love in earnest.' - -'Why, you have always been in earnest!' said Agnes, laughing again. - -'Oh! that was as a child, or a schoolboy,' said I, laughing in my turn, -not without being a little shame-faced. 'Times are altering now, and I -suppose I shall be in a terrible state of earnestness one day or other. -My wonder is, that you are not in earnest yourself, by this time, -Agnes.' - -Agnes laughed again, and shook her head. - -'Oh, I know you are not!' said I, 'because if you had been you would -have told me. Or at least'--for I saw a faint blush in her face, 'you -would have let me find it out for myself. But there is no one that I -know of, who deserves to love you, Agnes. Someone of a nobler character, -and more worthy altogether than anyone I have ever seen here, must rise -up, before I give my consent. In the time to come, I shall have a wary -eye on all admirers; and shall exact a great deal from the successful -one, I assure you.' - -We had gone on, so far, in a mixture of confidential jest and earnest, -that had long grown naturally out of our familiar relations, begun as -mere children. But Agnes, now suddenly lifting up her eyes to mine, and -speaking in a different manner, said: - -'Trotwood, there is something that I want to ask you, and that I may not -have another opportunity of asking for a long time, perhaps--something -I would ask, I think, of no one else. Have you observed any gradual -alteration in Papa?' - -I had observed it, and had often wondered whether she had too. I must -have shown as much, now, in my face; for her eyes were in a moment cast -down, and I saw tears in them. - -'Tell me what it is,' she said, in a low voice. - -'I think--shall I be quite plain, Agnes, liking him so much?' - -'Yes,' she said. - -'I think he does himself no good by the habit that has increased upon -him since I first came here. He is often very nervous--or I fancy so.' - -'It is not fancy,' said Agnes, shaking her head. - -'His hand trembles, his speech is not plain, and his eyes look wild. I -have remarked that at those times, and when he is least like himself, he -is most certain to be wanted on some business.' - -'By Uriah,' said Agnes. - -'Yes; and the sense of being unfit for it, or of not having understood -it, or of having shown his condition in spite of himself, seems to make -him so uneasy, that next day he is worse, and next day worse, and so he -becomes jaded and haggard. Do not be alarmed by what I say, Agnes, but -in this state I saw him, only the other evening, lay down his head upon -his desk, and shed tears like a child.' - -Her hand passed softly before my lips while I was yet speaking, and in -a moment she had met her father at the door of the room, and was hanging -on his shoulder. The expression of her face, as they both looked towards -me, I felt to be very touching. There was such deep fondness for him, -and gratitude to him for all his love and care, in her beautiful look; -and there was such a fervent appeal to me to deal tenderly by him, even -in my inmost thoughts, and to let no harsh construction find any place -against him; she was, at once, so proud of him and devoted to him, yet -so compassionate and sorry, and so reliant upon me to be so, too; that -nothing she could have said would have expressed more to me, or moved me -more. - -We were to drink tea at the Doctor's. We went there at the usual hour; -and round the study fireside found the Doctor, and his young wife, and -her mother. The Doctor, who made as much of my going away as if I were -going to China, received me as an honoured guest; and called for a log -of wood to be thrown on the fire, that he might see the face of his old -pupil reddening in the blaze. - -'I shall not see many more new faces in Trotwood's stead, Wickfield,' -said the Doctor, warming his hands; 'I am getting lazy, and want ease. -I shall relinquish all my young people in another six months, and lead a -quieter life.' - -'You have said so, any time these ten years, Doctor,' Mr. Wickfield -answered. - -'But now I mean to do it,' returned the Doctor. 'My first master will -succeed me--I am in earnest at last--so you'll soon have to arrange our -contracts, and to bind us firmly to them, like a couple of knaves.' - -'And to take care,' said Mr. Wickfield, 'that you're not imposed on, eh? -As you certainly would be, in any contract you should make for yourself. -Well! I am ready. There are worse tasks than that, in my calling.' - -'I shall have nothing to think of then,' said the Doctor, with a smile, -'but my Dictionary; and this other contract-bargain--Annie.' - -As Mr. Wickfield glanced towards her, sitting at the tea table by Agnes, -she seemed to me to avoid his look with such unwonted hesitation and -timidity, that his attention became fixed upon her, as if something were -suggested to his thoughts. - -'There is a post come in from India, I observe,' he said, after a short -silence. - -'By the by! and letters from Mr. Jack Maldon!' said the Doctor. - -'Indeed!' 'Poor dear Jack!' said Mrs. Markleham, shaking her head. 'That -trying climate!--like living, they tell me, on a sand-heap, underneath -a burning-glass! He looked strong, but he wasn't. My dear Doctor, it was -his spirit, not his constitution, that he ventured on so boldly. Annie, -my dear, I am sure you must perfectly recollect that your cousin -never was strong--not what can be called ROBUST, you know,' said Mrs. -Markleham, with emphasis, and looking round upon us generally, '--from -the time when my daughter and himself were children together, and -walking about, arm-in-arm, the livelong day.' - -Annie, thus addressed, made no reply. - -'Do I gather from what you say, ma'am, that Mr. Maldon is ill?' asked -Mr. Wickfield. - -'Ill!' replied the Old Soldier. 'My dear sir, he's all sorts of things.' - -'Except well?' said Mr. Wickfield. - -'Except well, indeed!' said the Old Soldier. 'He has had dreadful -strokes of the sun, no doubt, and jungle fevers and agues, and every -kind of thing you can mention. As to his liver,' said the Old Soldier -resignedly, 'that, of course, he gave up altogether, when he first went -out!' - -'Does he say all this?' asked Mr. Wickfield. - -'Say? My dear sir,' returned Mrs. Markleham, shaking her head and her -fan, 'you little know my poor Jack Maldon when you ask that question. -Say? Not he. You might drag him at the heels of four wild horses first.' - -'Mama!' said Mrs. Strong. - -'Annie, my dear,' returned her mother, 'once for all, I must really beg -that you will not interfere with me, unless it is to confirm what I say. -You know as well as I do that your cousin Maldon would be dragged at the -heels of any number of wild horses--why should I confine myself to four! -I WON'T confine myself to four--eight, sixteen, two-and-thirty, rather -than say anything calculated to overturn the Doctor's plans.' - -'Wickfield's plans,' said the Doctor, stroking his face, and looking -penitently at his adviser. 'That is to say, our joint plans for him. I -said myself, abroad or at home.' - -'And I said' added Mr. Wickfield gravely, 'abroad. I was the means of -sending him abroad. It's my responsibility.' - -'Oh! Responsibility!' said the Old Soldier. 'Everything was done for -the best, my dear Mr. Wickfield; everything was done for the kindest and -best, we know. But if the dear fellow can't live there, he can't live -there. And if he can't live there, he'll die there, sooner than he'll -overturn the Doctor's plans. I know him,' said the Old Soldier, fanning -herself, in a sort of calm prophetic agony, 'and I know he'll die there, -sooner than he'll overturn the Doctor's plans.' - -'Well, well, ma'am,' said the Doctor cheerfully, 'I am not bigoted to -my plans, and I can overturn them myself. I can substitute some other -plans. If Mr. Jack Maldon comes home on account of ill health, he must -not be allowed to go back, and we must endeavour to make some more -suitable and fortunate provision for him in this country.' - -Mrs. Markleham was so overcome by this generous speech--which, I need -not say, she had not at all expected or led up to--that she could only -tell the Doctor it was like himself, and go several times through that -operation of kissing the sticks of her fan, and then tapping his hand -with it. After which she gently chid her daughter Annie, for not being -more demonstrative when such kindnesses were showered, for her sake, on -her old playfellow; and entertained us with some particulars concerning -other deserving members of her family, whom it was desirable to set on -their deserving legs. - -All this time, her daughter Annie never once spoke, or lifted up her -eyes. All this time, Mr. Wickfield had his glance upon her as she sat -by his own daughter's side. It appeared to me that he never thought of -being observed by anyone; but was so intent upon her, and upon his own -thoughts in connexion with her, as to be quite absorbed. He now asked -what Mr. Jack Maldon had actually written in reference to himself, and -to whom he had written? - -'Why, here,' said Mrs. Markleham, taking a letter from the chimney-piece -above the Doctor's head, 'the dear fellow says to the Doctor -himself--where is it? Oh!--"I am sorry to inform you that my health is -suffering severely, and that I fear I may be reduced to the necessity -of returning home for a time, as the only hope of restoration." That's -pretty plain, poor fellow! His only hope of restoration! But Annie's -letter is plainer still. Annie, show me that letter again.' - -'Not now, mama,' she pleaded in a low tone. - -'My dear, you absolutely are, on some subjects, one of the most -ridiculous persons in the world,' returned her mother, 'and perhaps the -most unnatural to the claims of your own family. We never should have -heard of the letter at all, I believe, unless I had asked for it myself. -Do you call that confidence, my love, towards Doctor Strong? I am -surprised. You ought to know better.' - -The letter was reluctantly produced; and as I handed it to the old lady, -I saw how the unwilling hand from which I took it, trembled. - -'Now let us see,' said Mrs. Markleham, putting her glass to her eye, -'where the passage is. "The remembrance of old times, my dearest -Annie"--and so forth--it's not there. "The amiable old Proctor"--who's -he? Dear me, Annie, how illegibly your cousin Maldon writes, and how -stupid I am! "Doctor," of course. Ah! amiable indeed!' Here she left -off, to kiss her fan again, and shake it at the Doctor, who was looking -at us in a state of placid satisfaction. 'Now I have found it. "You may -not be surprised to hear, Annie,"--no, to be sure, knowing that he never -was really strong; what did I say just now?--"that I have undergone -so much in this distant place, as to have decided to leave it at all -hazards; on sick leave, if I can; on total resignation, if that is -not to be obtained. What I have endured, and do endure here, is -insupportable." And but for the promptitude of that best of creatures,' -said Mrs. Markleham, telegraphing the Doctor as before, and refolding -the letter, 'it would be insupportable to me to think of.' - -Mr. Wickfield said not one word, though the old lady looked to him as if -for his commentary on this intelligence; but sat severely silent, with -his eyes fixed on the ground. Long after the subject was dismissed, -and other topics occupied us, he remained so; seldom raising his eyes, -unless to rest them for a moment, with a thoughtful frown, upon the -Doctor, or his wife, or both. - -The Doctor was very fond of music. Agnes sang with great sweetness and -expression, and so did Mrs. Strong. They sang together, and played duets -together, and we had quite a little concert. But I remarked two things: -first, that though Annie soon recovered her composure, and was quite -herself, there was a blank between her and Mr. Wickfield which separated -them wholly from each other; secondly, that Mr. Wickfield seemed -to dislike the intimacy between her and Agnes, and to watch it with -uneasiness. And now, I must confess, the recollection of what I had seen -on that night when Mr. Maldon went away, first began to return upon me -with a meaning it had never had, and to trouble me. The innocent beauty -of her face was not as innocent to me as it had been; I mistrusted the -natural grace and charm of her manner; and when I looked at Agnes by her -side, and thought how good and true Agnes was, suspicions arose within -me that it was an ill-assorted friendship. - -She was so happy in it herself, however, and the other was so happy too, -that they made the evening fly away as if it were but an hour. It closed -in an incident which I well remember. They were taking leave of each -other, and Agnes was going to embrace her and kiss her, when Mr. -Wickfield stepped between them, as if by accident, and drew Agnes -quickly away. Then I saw, as though all the intervening time had been -cancelled, and I were still standing in the doorway on the night of the -departure, the expression of that night in the face of Mrs. Strong, as -it confronted his. - -I cannot say what an impression this made upon me, or how impossible I -found it, when I thought of her afterwards, to separate her from this -look, and remember her face in its innocent loveliness again. It haunted -me when I got home. I seemed to have left the Doctor's roof with a dark -cloud lowering on it. The reverence that I had for his grey head, was -mingled with commiseration for his faith in those who were treacherous -to him, and with resentment against those who injured him. The impending -shadow of a great affliction, and a great disgrace that had no distinct -form in it yet, fell like a stain upon the quiet place where I had -worked and played as a boy, and did it a cruel wrong. I had no pleasure -in thinking, any more, of the grave old broad-leaved aloe-trees, which -remained shut up in themselves a hundred years together, and of the trim -smooth grass-plot, and the stone urns, and the Doctor's walk, and the -congenial sound of the Cathedral bell hovering above them all. It was as -if the tranquil sanctuary of my boyhood had been sacked before my face, -and its peace and honour given to the winds. - -But morning brought with it my parting from the old house, which Agnes -had filled with her influence; and that occupied my mind sufficiently. -I should be there again soon, no doubt; I might sleep again--perhaps -often--in my old room; but the days of my inhabiting there were gone, -and the old time was past. I was heavier at heart when I packed up such -of my books and clothes as still remained there to be sent to Dover, -than I cared to show to Uriah Heep; who was so officious to help me, -that I uncharitably thought him mighty glad that I was going. - -I got away from Agnes and her father, somehow, with an indifferent show -of being very manly, and took my seat upon the box of the London coach. -I was so softened and forgiving, going through the town, that I had half -a mind to nod to my old enemy the butcher, and throw him five shillings -to drink. But he looked such a very obdurate butcher as he stood -scraping the great block in the shop, and moreover, his appearance was -so little improved by the loss of a front tooth which I had knocked out, -that I thought it best to make no advances. - -The main object on my mind, I remember, when we got fairly on the road, -was to appear as old as possible to the coachman, and to speak extremely -gruff. The latter point I achieved at great personal inconvenience; but -I stuck to it, because I felt it was a grown-up sort of thing. - -'You are going through, sir?' said the coachman. - -'Yes, William,' I said, condescendingly (I knew him); 'I am going to -London. I shall go down into Suffolk afterwards.' - -'Shooting, sir?' said the coachman. - -He knew as well as I did that it was just as likely, at that time of -year, I was going down there whaling; but I felt complimented, too. - -'I don't know,' I said, pretending to be undecided, 'whether I shall -take a shot or not.' 'Birds is got wery shy, I'm told,' said William. - -'So I understand,' said I. - -'Is Suffolk your county, sir?' asked William. - -'Yes,' I said, with some importance. 'Suffolk's my county.' - -'I'm told the dumplings is uncommon fine down there,' said William. - -I was not aware of it myself, but I felt it necessary to uphold the -institutions of my county, and to evince a familiarity with them; so I -shook my head, as much as to say, 'I believe you!' - -'And the Punches,' said William. 'There's cattle! A Suffolk Punch, when -he's a good un, is worth his weight in gold. Did you ever breed any -Suffolk Punches yourself, sir?' - -'N-no,' I said, 'not exactly.' - -'Here's a gen'lm'n behind me, I'll pound it,' said William, 'as has bred -'em by wholesale.' - -The gentleman spoken of was a gentleman with a very unpromising squint, -and a prominent chin, who had a tall white hat on with a narrow flat -brim, and whose close-fitting drab trousers seemed to button all the way -up outside his legs from his boots to his hips. His chin was cocked over -the coachman's shoulder, so near to me, that his breath quite tickled -the back of my head; and as I looked at him, he leered at the leaders -with the eye with which he didn't squint, in a very knowing manner. - -'Ain't you?' asked William. - -'Ain't I what?' said the gentleman behind. - -'Bred them Suffolk Punches by wholesale?' - -'I should think so,' said the gentleman. 'There ain't no sort of orse -that I ain't bred, and no sort of dorg. Orses and dorgs is some -men's fancy. They're wittles and drink to me--lodging, wife, and -children--reading, writing, and Arithmetic--snuff, tobacker, and sleep.' - -'That ain't a sort of man to see sitting behind a coach-box, is it -though?' said William in my ear, as he handled the reins. - -I construed this remark into an indication of a wish that he should have -my place, so I blushingly offered to resign it. - -'Well, if you don't mind, sir,' said William, 'I think it would be more -correct.' - -I have always considered this as the first fall I had in life. When I -booked my place at the coach office I had had 'Box Seat' written against -the entry, and had given the book-keeper half-a-crown. I was got up in -a special great-coat and shawl, expressly to do honour to that -distinguished eminence; had glorified myself upon it a good deal; and -had felt that I was a credit to the coach. And here, in the very first -stage, I was supplanted by a shabby man with a squint, who had no other -merit than smelling like a livery-stables, and being able to walk across -me, more like a fly than a human being, while the horses were at a -canter! - -A distrust of myself, which has often beset me in life on small -occasions, when it would have been better away, was assuredly not -stopped in its growth by this little incident outside the Canterbury -coach. It was in vain to take refuge in gruffness of speech. I spoke -from the pit of my stomach for the rest of the journey, but I felt -completely extinguished, and dreadfully young. - -It was curious and interesting, nevertheless, to be sitting up there -behind four horses: well educated, well dressed, and with plenty of -money in my pocket; and to look out for the places where I had slept on -my weary journey. I had abundant occupation for my thoughts, in every -conspicuous landmark on the road. When I looked down at the trampers -whom we passed, and saw that well-remembered style of face turned up, -I felt as if the tinker's blackened hand were in the bosom of my shirt -again. When we clattered through the narrow street of Chatham, and I -caught a glimpse, in passing, of the lane where the old monster lived -who had bought my jacket, I stretched my neck eagerly to look for the -place where I had sat, in the sun and in the shade, waiting for my -money. When we came, at last, within a stage of London, and passed the -veritable Salem House where Mr. Creakle had laid about him with a heavy -hand, I would have given all I had, for lawful permission to get down -and thrash him, and let all the boys out like so many caged sparrows. - -We went to the Golden Cross at Charing Cross, then a mouldy sort of -establishment in a close neighbourhood. A waiter showed me into the -coffee-room; and a chambermaid introduced me to my small bedchamber, -which smelt like a hackney-coach, and was shut up like a family vault. -I was still painfully conscious of my youth, for nobody stood in any awe -of me at all: the chambermaid being utterly indifferent to my opinions -on any subject, and the waiter being familiar with me, and offering -advice to my inexperience. - -'Well now,' said the waiter, in a tone of confidence, 'what would you -like for dinner? Young gentlemen likes poultry in general: have a fowl!' - -I told him, as majestically as I could, that I wasn't in the humour for -a fowl. - -'Ain't you?' said the waiter. 'Young gentlemen is generally tired of -beef and mutton: have a weal cutlet!' - -I assented to this proposal, in default of being able to suggest -anything else. - -'Do you care for taters?' said the waiter, with an insinuating smile, -and his head on one side. 'Young gentlemen generally has been overdosed -with taters.' - -I commanded him, in my deepest voice, to order a veal cutlet and -potatoes, and all things fitting; and to inquire at the bar if there -were any letters for Trotwood Copperfield, Esquire--which I knew there -were not, and couldn't be, but thought it manly to appear to expect. - -He soon came back to say that there were none (at which I was much -surprised) and began to lay the cloth for my dinner in a box by the -fire. While he was so engaged, he asked me what I would take with it; -and on my replying 'Half a pint of sherry,' thought it a favourable -opportunity, I am afraid, to extract that measure of wine from the -stale leavings at the bottoms of several small decanters. I am of this -opinion, because, while I was reading the newspaper, I observed him -behind a low wooden partition, which was his private apartment, very -busy pouring out of a number of those vessels into one, like a chemist -and druggist making up a prescription. When the wine came, too, I -thought it flat; and it certainly had more English crumbs in it, than -were to be expected in a foreign wine in anything like a pure state, but -I was bashful enough to drink it, and say nothing. - -Being then in a pleasant frame of mind (from which I infer that -poisoning is not always disagreeable in some stages of the process), I -resolved to go to the play. It was Covent Garden Theatre that I chose; -and there, from the back of a centre box, I saw Julius Caesar and the -new Pantomime. To have all those noble Romans alive before me, and -walking in and out for my entertainment, instead of being the stern -taskmasters they had been at school, was a most novel and delightful -effect. But the mingled reality and mystery of the whole show, the -influence upon me of the poetry, the lights, the music, the company, the -smooth stupendous changes of glittering and brilliant scenery, were so -dazzling, and opened up such illimitable regions of delight, that when I -came out into the rainy street, at twelve o'clock at night, I felt as if -I had come from the clouds, where I had been leading a romantic life -for ages, to a bawling, splashing, link-lighted, umbrella-struggling, -hackney-coach-jostling, patten-clinking, muddy, miserable world. - -I had emerged by another door, and stood in the street for a little -while, as if I really were a stranger upon earth: but the unceremonious -pushing and hustling that I received, soon recalled me to myself, and -put me in the road back to the hotel; whither I went, revolving the -glorious vision all the way; and where, after some porter and oysters, -I sat revolving it still, at past one o'clock, with my eyes on the -coffee-room fire. - -I was so filled with the play, and with the past--for it was, in a -manner, like a shining transparency, through which I saw my earlier -life moving along--that I don't know when the figure of a handsome -well-formed young man dressed with a tasteful easy negligence which I -have reason to remember very well, became a real presence to me. But -I recollect being conscious of his company without having noticed his -coming in--and my still sitting, musing, over the coffee-room fire. - -At last I rose to go to bed, much to the relief of the sleepy waiter, -who had got the fidgets in his legs, and was twisting them, and hitting -them, and putting them through all kinds of contortions in his small -pantry. In going towards the door, I passed the person who had come in, -and saw him plainly. I turned directly, came back, and looked again. He -did not know me, but I knew him in a moment. - -At another time I might have wanted the confidence or the decision to -speak to him, and might have put it off until next day, and might have -lost him. But, in the then condition of my mind, where the play was -still running high, his former protection of me appeared so deserving -of my gratitude, and my old love for him overflowed my breast so freshly -and spontaneously, that I went up to him at once, with a fast-beating -heart, and said: - -'Steerforth! won't you speak to me?' - -He looked at me--just as he used to look, sometimes--but I saw no -recognition in his face. - -'You don't remember me, I am afraid,' said I. - -'My God!' he suddenly exclaimed. 'It's little Copperfield!' - -I grasped him by both hands, and could not let them go. But for very -shame, and the fear that it might displease him, I could have held him -round the neck and cried. - -'I never, never, never was so glad! My dear Steerforth, I am so -overjoyed to see you!' - -'And I am rejoiced to see you, too!' he said, shaking my hands heartily. -'Why, Copperfield, old boy, don't be overpowered!' And yet he was glad, -too, I thought, to see how the delight I had in meeting him affected me. - -I brushed away the tears that my utmost resolution had not been able to -keep back, and I made a clumsy laugh of it, and we sat down together, -side by side. - -'Why, how do you come to be here?' said Steerforth, clapping me on the -shoulder. - -'I came here by the Canterbury coach, today. I have been adopted by -an aunt down in that part of the country, and have just finished my -education there. How do YOU come to be here, Steerforth?' - -'Well, I am what they call an Oxford man,' he returned; 'that is to say, -I get bored to death down there, periodically--and I am on my way now to -my mother's. You're a devilish amiable-looking fellow, Copperfield. Just -what you used to be, now I look at you! Not altered in the least!' - -'I knew you immediately,' I said; 'but you are more easily remembered.' - -He laughed as he ran his hand through the clustering curls of his hair, -and said gaily: - -'Yes, I am on an expedition of duty. My mother lives a little way out of -town; and the roads being in a beastly condition, and our house tedious -enough, I remained here tonight instead of going on. I have not been in -town half-a-dozen hours, and those I have been dozing and grumbling away -at the play.' - -'I have been at the play, too,' said I. 'At Covent Garden. What a -delightful and magnificent entertainment, Steerforth!' - -Steerforth laughed heartily. - -'My dear young Davy,' he said, clapping me on the shoulder again, 'you -are a very Daisy. The daisy of the field, at sunrise, is not fresher -than you are. I have been at Covent Garden, too, and there never was a -more miserable business. Holloa, you sir!' - -This was addressed to the waiter, who had been very attentive to our -recognition, at a distance, and now came forward deferentially. - -'Where have you put my friend, Mr. Copperfield?' said Steerforth. - -'Beg your pardon, sir?' - -'Where does he sleep? What's his number? You know what I mean,' said -Steerforth. - -'Well, sir,' said the waiter, with an apologetic air. 'Mr. Copperfield -is at present in forty-four, sir.' - -'And what the devil do you mean,' retorted Steerforth, 'by putting Mr. -Copperfield into a little loft over a stable?' - -'Why, you see we wasn't aware, sir,' returned the waiter, still -apologetically, 'as Mr. Copperfield was anyways particular. We can give -Mr. Copperfield seventy-two, sir, if it would be preferred. Next you, -sir.' - -'Of course it would be preferred,' said Steerforth. 'And do it at once.' -The waiter immediately withdrew to make the exchange. Steerforth, very -much amused at my having been put into forty-four, laughed again, and -clapped me on the shoulder again, and invited me to breakfast with him -next morning at ten o'clock--an invitation I was only too proud and -happy to accept. It being now pretty late, we took our candles and went -upstairs, where we parted with friendly heartiness at his door, and -where I found my new room a great improvement on my old one, it not -being at all musty, and having an immense four-post bedstead in it, -which was quite a little landed estate. Here, among pillows enough for -six, I soon fell asleep in a blissful condition, and dreamed of ancient -Rome, Steerforth, and friendship, until the early morning coaches, -rumbling out of the archway underneath, made me dream of thunder and the -gods. - - - -CHAPTER 20. STEERFORTH'S HOME - - -When the chambermaid tapped at my door at eight o'clock, and informed -me that my shaving-water was outside, I felt severely the having no -occasion for it, and blushed in my bed. The suspicion that she laughed -too, when she said it, preyed upon my mind all the time I was dressing; -and gave me, I was conscious, a sneaking and guilty air when I passed -her on the staircase, as I was going down to breakfast. I was so -sensitively aware, indeed, of being younger than I could have wished, -that for some time I could not make up my mind to pass her at all, under -the ignoble circumstances of the case; but, hearing her there with -a broom, stood peeping out of window at King Charles on horseback, -surrounded by a maze of hackney-coaches, and looking anything but regal -in a drizzling rain and a dark-brown fog, until I was admonished by the -waiter that the gentleman was waiting for me. - -It was not in the coffee-room that I found Steerforth expecting me, but -in a snug private apartment, red-curtained and Turkey-carpeted, where -the fire burnt bright, and a fine hot breakfast was set forth on a table -covered with a clean cloth; and a cheerful miniature of the room, the -fire, the breakfast, Steerforth, and all, was shining in the little -round mirror over the sideboard. I was rather bashful at first, -Steerforth being so self-possessed, and elegant, and superior to me in -all respects (age included); but his easy patronage soon put that to -rights, and made me quite at home. I could not enough admire the change -he had wrought in the Golden Cross; or compare the dull forlorn state -I had held yesterday, with this morning's comfort and this morning's -entertainment. As to the waiter's familiarity, it was quenched as if it -had never been. He attended on us, as I may say, in sackcloth and ashes. - -'Now, Copperfield,' said Steerforth, when we were alone, 'I should like -to hear what you are doing, and where you are going, and all about you. -I feel as if you were my property.' Glowing with pleasure to find that -he had still this interest in me, I told him how my aunt had proposed -the little expedition that I had before me, and whither it tended. - -'As you are in no hurry, then,' said Steerforth, 'come home with me to -Highgate, and stay a day or two. You will be pleased with my mother--she -is a little vain and prosy about me, but that you can forgive her--and -she will be pleased with you.' - -'I should like to be as sure of that, as you are kind enough to say you -are,' I answered, smiling. - -'Oh!' said Steerforth, 'everyone who likes me, has a claim on her that -is sure to be acknowledged.' - -'Then I think I shall be a favourite,' said I. - -'Good!' said Steerforth. 'Come and prove it. We will go and see the -lions for an hour or two--it's something to have a fresh fellow like you -to show them to, Copperfield--and then we'll journey out to Highgate by -the coach.' - -I could hardly believe but that I was in a dream, and that I should wake -presently in number forty-four, to the solitary box in the coffee-room -and the familiar waiter again. After I had written to my aunt and told -her of my fortunate meeting with my admired old schoolfellow, and my -acceptance of his invitation, we went out in a hackney-chariot, and saw -a Panorama and some other sights, and took a walk through the Museum, -where I could not help observing how much Steerforth knew, on an -infinite variety of subjects, and of how little account he seemed to -make his knowledge. - -'You'll take a high degree at college, Steerforth,' said I, 'if you have -not done so already; and they will have good reason to be proud of you.' - -'I take a degree!' cried Steerforth. 'Not I! my dear Daisy--will you -mind my calling you Daisy?' - -'Not at all!' said I. - -'That's a good fellow! My dear Daisy,' said Steerforth, laughing. 'I -have not the least desire or intention to distinguish myself in that -way. I have done quite sufficient for my purpose. I find that I am heavy -company enough for myself as I am.' - -'But the fame--' I was beginning. - -'You romantic Daisy!' said Steerforth, laughing still more heartily: -'why should I trouble myself, that a parcel of heavy-headed fellows may -gape and hold up their hands? Let them do it at some other man. There's -fame for him, and he's welcome to it.' - -I was abashed at having made so great a mistake, and was glad to change -the subject. Fortunately it was not difficult to do, for Steerforth -could always pass from one subject to another with a carelessness and -lightness that were his own. - -Lunch succeeded to our sight-seeing, and the short winter day wore away -so fast, that it was dusk when the stage-coach stopped with us at an -old brick house at Highgate on the summit of the hill. An elderly lady, -though not very far advanced in years, with a proud carriage and -a handsome face, was in the doorway as we alighted; and greeting -Steerforth as 'My dearest James,' folded him in her arms. To this lady -he presented me as his mother, and she gave me a stately welcome. - -It was a genteel old-fashioned house, very quiet and orderly. From the -windows of my room I saw all London lying in the distance like a great -vapour, with here and there some lights twinkling through it. I had only -time, in dressing, to glance at the solid furniture, the framed pieces -of work (done, I supposed, by Steerforth's mother when she was a girl), -and some pictures in crayons of ladies with powdered hair and bodices, -coming and going on the walls, as the newly-kindled fire crackled and -sputtered, when I was called to dinner. - -There was a second lady in the dining-room, of a slight short figure, -dark, and not agreeable to look at, but with some appearance of good -looks too, who attracted my attention: perhaps because I had not -expected to see her; perhaps because I found myself sitting opposite -to her; perhaps because of something really remarkable in her. She had -black hair and eager black eyes, and was thin, and had a scar upon her -lip. It was an old scar--I should rather call it seam, for it was not -discoloured, and had healed years ago--which had once cut through her -mouth, downward towards the chin, but was now barely visible across -the table, except above and on her upper lip, the shape of which it had -altered. I concluded in my own mind that she was about thirty years -of age, and that she wished to be married. She was a little -dilapidated--like a house--with having been so long to let; yet had, as -I have said, an appearance of good looks. Her thinness seemed to be the -effect of some wasting fire within her, which found a vent in her gaunt -eyes. - -She was introduced as Miss Dartle, and both Steerforth and his mother -called her Rosa. I found that she lived there, and had been for a long -time Mrs. Steerforth's companion. It appeared to me that she never said -anything she wanted to say, outright; but hinted it, and made a great -deal more of it by this practice. For example, when Mrs. Steerforth -observed, more in jest than earnest, that she feared her son led but a -wild life at college, Miss Dartle put in thus: - -'Oh, really? You know how ignorant I am, and that I only ask for -information, but isn't it always so? I thought that kind of life was -on all hands understood to be--eh?' 'It is education for a very grave -profession, if you mean that, Rosa,' Mrs. Steerforth answered with some -coldness. - -'Oh! Yes! That's very true,' returned Miss Dartle. 'But isn't it, -though?--I want to be put right, if I am wrong--isn't it, really?' - -'Really what?' said Mrs. Steerforth. - -'Oh! You mean it's not!' returned Miss Dartle. 'Well, I'm very glad to -hear it! Now, I know what to do! That's the advantage of asking. I shall -never allow people to talk before me about wastefulness and profligacy, -and so forth, in connexion with that life, any more.' - -'And you will be right,' said Mrs. Steerforth. 'My son's tutor is a -conscientious gentleman; and if I had not implicit reliance on my son, I -should have reliance on him.' - -'Should you?' said Miss Dartle. 'Dear me! Conscientious, is he? Really -conscientious, now?' - -'Yes, I am convinced of it,' said Mrs. Steerforth. - -'How very nice!' exclaimed Miss Dartle. 'What a comfort! Really -conscientious? Then he's not--but of course he can't be, if he's really -conscientious. Well, I shall be quite happy in my opinion of him, from -this time. You can't think how it elevates him in my opinion, to know -for certain that he's really conscientious!' - -Her own views of every question, and her correction of everything that -was said to which she was opposed, Miss Dartle insinuated in the same -way: sometimes, I could not conceal from myself, with great power, -though in contradiction even of Steerforth. An instance happened before -dinner was done. Mrs. Steerforth speaking to me about my intention -of going down into Suffolk, I said at hazard how glad I should be, if -Steerforth would only go there with me; and explaining to him that I was -going to see my old nurse, and Mr. Peggotty's family, I reminded him of -the boatman whom he had seen at school. - -'Oh! That bluff fellow!' said Steerforth. 'He had a son with him, hadn't -he?' - -'No. That was his nephew,' I replied; 'whom he adopted, though, as -a son. He has a very pretty little niece too, whom he adopted as a -daughter. In short, his house--or rather his boat, for he lives in one, -on dry land--is full of people who are objects of his generosity and -kindness. You would be delighted to see that household.' - -'Should I?' said Steerforth. 'Well, I think I should. I must see what -can be done. It would be worth a journey (not to mention the pleasure of -a journey with you, Daisy), to see that sort of people together, and to -make one of 'em.' - -My heart leaped with a new hope of pleasure. But it was in reference -to the tone in which he had spoken of 'that sort of people', that Miss -Dartle, whose sparkling eyes had been watchful of us, now broke in -again. - -'Oh, but, really? Do tell me. Are they, though?' she said. - -'Are they what? And are who what?' said Steerforth. - -'That sort of people.---Are they really animals and clods, and beings of -another order? I want to know SO much.' - -'Why, there's a pretty wide separation between them and us,' said -Steerforth, with indifference. 'They are not to be expected to be -as sensitive as we are. Their delicacy is not to be shocked, or hurt -easily. They are wonderfully virtuous, I dare say--some people contend -for that, at least; and I am sure I don't want to contradict them--but -they have not very fine natures, and they may be thankful that, like -their coarse rough skins, they are not easily wounded.' - -'Really!' said Miss Dartle. 'Well, I don't know, now, when I have been -better pleased than to hear that. It's so consoling! It's such a delight -to know that, when they suffer, they don't feel! Sometimes I have been -quite uneasy for that sort of people; but now I shall just dismiss the -idea of them, altogether. Live and learn. I had my doubts, I confess, -but now they're cleared up. I didn't know, and now I do know, and that -shows the advantage of asking--don't it?' - -I believed that Steerforth had said what he had, in jest, or to draw -Miss Dartle out; and I expected him to say as much when she was gone, -and we two were sitting before the fire. But he merely asked me what I -thought of her. - -'She is very clever, is she not?' I asked. - -'Clever! She brings everything to a grindstone,' said Steerforth, and -sharpens it, as she has sharpened her own face and figure these years -past. She has worn herself away by constant sharpening. She is all -edge.' - -'What a remarkable scar that is upon her lip!' I said. - -Steerforth's face fell, and he paused a moment. - -'Why, the fact is,' he returned, 'I did that.' - -'By an unfortunate accident!' - -'No. I was a young boy, and she exasperated me, and I threw a hammer at -her. A promising young angel I must have been!' I was deeply sorry to -have touched on such a painful theme, but that was useless now. - -'She has borne the mark ever since, as you see,' said Steerforth; 'and -she'll bear it to her grave, if she ever rests in one--though I can -hardly believe she will ever rest anywhere. She was the motherless child -of a sort of cousin of my father's. He died one day. My mother, who was -then a widow, brought her here to be company to her. She has a couple of -thousand pounds of her own, and saves the interest of it every year, to -add to the principal. There's the history of Miss Rosa Dartle for you.' - -'And I have no doubt she loves you like a brother?' said I. - -'Humph!' retorted Steerforth, looking at the fire. 'Some brothers are -not loved over much; and some love--but help yourself, Copperfield! -We'll drink the daisies of the field, in compliment to you; and the -lilies of the valley that toil not, neither do they spin, in compliment -to me--the more shame for me!' A moody smile that had overspread his -features cleared off as he said this merrily, and he was his own frank, -winning self again. - -I could not help glancing at the scar with a painful interest when we -went in to tea. It was not long before I observed that it was the most -susceptible part of her face, and that, when she turned pale, that mark -altered first, and became a dull, lead-coloured streak, lengthening out -to its full extent, like a mark in invisible ink brought to the fire. -There was a little altercation between her and Steerforth about a cast -of the dice at back gammon--when I thought her, for one moment, in a -storm of rage; and then I saw it start forth like the old writing on the -wall. - -It was no matter of wonder to me to find Mrs. Steerforth devoted to her -son. She seemed to be able to speak or think about nothing else. She -showed me his picture as an infant, in a locket, with some of his -baby-hair in it; she showed me his picture as he had been when I first -knew him; and she wore at her breast his picture as he was now. All the -letters he had ever written to her, she kept in a cabinet near her own -chair by the fire; and she would have read me some of them, and I should -have been very glad to hear them too, if he had not interposed, and -coaxed her out of the design. - -'It was at Mr. Creakle's, my son tells me, that you first became -acquainted,' said Mrs. Steerforth, as she and I were talking at one -table, while they played backgammon at another. 'Indeed, I recollect his -speaking, at that time, of a pupil younger than himself who had taken -his fancy there; but your name, as you may suppose, has not lived in my -memory.' - -'He was very generous and noble to me in those days, I assure you, -ma'am,' said I, 'and I stood in need of such a friend. I should have -been quite crushed without him.' - -'He is always generous and noble,' said Mrs. Steerforth, proudly. - -I subscribed to this with all my heart, God knows. She knew I did; for -the stateliness of her manner already abated towards me, except when she -spoke in praise of him, and then her air was always lofty. - -'It was not a fit school generally for my son,' said she; 'far from it; -but there were particular circumstances to be considered at the time, of -more importance even than that selection. My son's high spirit made -it desirable that he should be placed with some man who felt its -superiority, and would be content to bow himself before it; and we found -such a man there.' - -I knew that, knowing the fellow. And yet I did not despise him the more -for it, but thought it a redeeming quality in him if he could be allowed -any grace for not resisting one so irresistible as Steerforth. - -'My son's great capacity was tempted on, there, by a feeling of -voluntary emulation and conscious pride,' the fond lady went on to say. -'He would have risen against all constraint; but he found himself the -monarch of the place, and he haughtily determined to be worthy of his -station. It was like himself.' - -I echoed, with all my heart and soul, that it was like himself. - -'So my son took, of his own will, and on no compulsion, to the course -in which he can always, when it is his pleasure, outstrip every -competitor,' she pursued. 'My son informs me, Mr. Copperfield, that -you were quite devoted to him, and that when you met yesterday you made -yourself known to him with tears of joy. I should be an affected woman -if I made any pretence of being surprised by my son's inspiring such -emotions; but I cannot be indifferent to anyone who is so sensible of -his merit, and I am very glad to see you here, and can assure you that -he feels an unusual friendship for you, and that you may rely on his -protection.' - -Miss Dartle played backgammon as eagerly as she did everything else. -If I had seen her, first, at the board, I should have fancied that her -figure had got thin, and her eyes had got large, over that pursuit, and -no other in the world. But I am very much mistaken if she missed a -word of this, or lost a look of mine as I received it with the utmost -pleasure, and honoured by Mrs. Steerforth's confidence, felt older than -I had done since I left Canterbury. - -When the evening was pretty far spent, and a tray of glasses and -decanters came in, Steerforth promised, over the fire, that he would -seriously think of going down into the country with me. There was no -hurry, he said; a week hence would do; and his mother hospitably said -the same. While we were talking, he more than once called me Daisy; -which brought Miss Dartle out again. - -'But really, Mr. Copperfield,' she asked, 'is it a nickname? And -why does he give it you? Is it--eh?--because he thinks you young and -innocent? I am so stupid in these things.' - -I coloured in replying that I believed it was. - -'Oh!' said Miss Dartle. 'Now I am glad to know that! I ask for -information, and I am glad to know it. He thinks you young and innocent; -and so you are his friend. Well, that's quite delightful!' - -She went to bed soon after this, and Mrs. Steerforth retired too. -Steerforth and I, after lingering for half-an-hour over the fire, -talking about Traddles and all the rest of them at old Salem House, went -upstairs together. Steerforth's room was next to mine, and I went in to -look at it. It was a picture of comfort, full of easy-chairs, cushions -and footstools, worked by his mother's hand, and with no sort of thing -omitted that could help to render it complete. Finally, her handsome -features looked down on her darling from a portrait on the wall, as if -it were even something to her that her likeness should watch him while -he slept. - -I found the fire burning clear enough in my room by this time, and the -curtains drawn before the windows and round the bed, giving it a very -snug appearance. I sat down in a great chair upon the hearth to meditate -on my happiness; and had enjoyed the contemplation of it for some time, -when I found a likeness of Miss Dartle looking eagerly at me from above -the chimney-piece. - -It was a startling likeness, and necessarily had a startling look. The -painter hadn't made the scar, but I made it; and there it was, coming -and going; now confined to the upper lip as I had seen it at dinner, and -now showing the whole extent of the wound inflicted by the hammer, as I -had seen it when she was passionate. - -I wondered peevishly why they couldn't put her anywhere else instead -of quartering her on me. To get rid of her, I undressed quickly, -extinguished my light, and went to bed. But, as I fell asleep, I could -not forget that she was still there looking, 'Is it really, though? -I want to know'; and when I awoke in the night, I found that I was -uneasily asking all sorts of people in my dreams whether it really was -or not--without knowing what I meant. - - - -CHAPTER 21. LITTLE EM'LY - - -There was a servant in that house, a man who, I understood, was usually -with Steerforth, and had come into his service at the University, who -was in appearance a pattern of respectability. I believe there never -existed in his station a more respectable-looking man. He was taciturn, -soft-footed, very quiet in his manner, deferential, observant, always at -hand when wanted, and never near when not wanted; but his great claim to -consideration was his respectability. He had not a pliant face, he had -rather a stiff neck, rather a tight smooth head with short hair clinging -to it at the sides, a soft way of speaking, with a peculiar habit of -whispering the letter S so distinctly, that he seemed to use it -oftener than any other man; but every peculiarity that he had he made -respectable. If his nose had been upside-down, he would have made that -respectable. He surrounded himself with an atmosphere of respectability, -and walked secure in it. It would have been next to impossible to -suspect him of anything wrong, he was so thoroughly respectable. -Nobody could have thought of putting him in a livery, he was so highly -respectable. To have imposed any derogatory work upon him, would have -been to inflict a wanton insult on the feelings of a most respectable -man. And of this, I noticed--the women-servants in the household were -so intuitively conscious, that they always did such work themselves, and -generally while he read the paper by the pantry fire. - -Such a self-contained man I never saw. But in that quality, as in every -other he possessed, he only seemed to be the more respectable. Even the -fact that no one knew his Christian name, seemed to form a part of his -respectability. Nothing could be objected against his surname, Littimer, -by which he was known. Peter might have been hanged, or Tom transported; -but Littimer was perfectly respectable. - -It was occasioned, I suppose, by the reverend nature of respectability -in the abstract, but I felt particularly young in this man's presence. -How old he was himself, I could not guess--and that again went to his -credit on the same score; for in the calmness of respectability he might -have numbered fifty years as well as thirty. - -Littimer was in my room in the morning before I was up, to bring me that -reproachful shaving-water, and to put out my clothes. When I undrew the -curtains and looked out of bed, I saw him, in an equable temperature -of respectability, unaffected by the east wind of January, and not -even breathing frostily, standing my boots right and left in the first -dancing position, and blowing specks of dust off my coat as he laid it -down like a baby. - -I gave him good morning, and asked him what o'clock it was. He took -out of his pocket the most respectable hunting-watch I ever saw, and -preventing the spring with his thumb from opening far, looked in at the -face as if he were consulting an oracular oyster, shut it up again, and -said, if I pleased, it was half past eight. - -'Mr. Steerforth will be glad to hear how you have rested, sir.' - -'Thank you,' said I, 'very well indeed. Is Mr. Steerforth quite well?' - -'Thank you, sir, Mr. Steerforth is tolerably well.' Another of his -characteristics--no use of superlatives. A cool calm medium always. - -'Is there anything more I can have the honour of doing for you, sir? The -warning-bell will ring at nine; the family take breakfast at half past -nine.' - -'Nothing, I thank you.' - -'I thank YOU, sir, if you please'; and with that, and with a little -inclination of his head when he passed the bed-side, as an apology for -correcting me, he went out, shutting the door as delicately as if I had -just fallen into a sweet sleep on which my life depended. - -Every morning we held exactly this conversation: never any more, and -never any less: and yet, invariably, however far I might have been -lifted out of myself over-night, and advanced towards maturer years, -by Steerforth's companionship, or Mrs. Steerforth's confidence, or Miss -Dartle's conversation, in the presence of this most respectable man I -became, as our smaller poets sing, 'a boy again'. - -He got horses for us; and Steerforth, who knew everything, gave me -lessons in riding. He provided foils for us, and Steerforth gave me -lessons in fencing--gloves, and I began, of the same master, to improve -in boxing. It gave me no manner of concern that Steerforth should find -me a novice in these sciences, but I never could bear to show my want of -skill before the respectable Littimer. I had no reason to believe -that Littimer understood such arts himself; he never led me to suppose -anything of the kind, by so much as the vibration of one of his -respectable eyelashes; yet whenever he was by, while we were practising, -I felt myself the greenest and most inexperienced of mortals. - -I am particular about this man, because he made a particular effect on -me at that time, and because of what took place thereafter. - -The week passed away in a most delightful manner. It passed rapidly, as -may be supposed, to one entranced as I was; and yet it gave me so many -occasions for knowing Steerforth better, and admiring him more in a -thousand respects, that at its close I seemed to have been with him -for a much longer time. A dashing way he had of treating me like a -plaything, was more agreeable to me than any behaviour he could have -adopted. It reminded me of our old acquaintance; it seemed the natural -sequel of it; it showed me that he was unchanged; it relieved me of -any uneasiness I might have felt, in comparing my merits with his, and -measuring my claims upon his friendship by any equal standard; above -all, it was a familiar, unrestrained, affectionate demeanour that he -used towards no one else. As he had treated me at school differently -from all the rest, I joyfully believed that he treated me in life unlike -any other friend he had. I believed that I was nearer to his heart than -any other friend, and my own heart warmed with attachment to him. He -made up his mind to go with me into the country, and the day arrived for -our departure. He had been doubtful at first whether to take Littimer -or not, but decided to leave him at home. The respectable creature, -satisfied with his lot whatever it was, arranged our portmanteaux on -the little carriage that was to take us into London, as if they were -intended to defy the shocks of ages, and received my modestly proffered -donation with perfect tranquillity. - -We bade adieu to Mrs. Steerforth and Miss Dartle, with many thanks on -my part, and much kindness on the devoted mother's. The last thing I -saw was Littimer's unruffled eye; fraught, as I fancied, with the silent -conviction that I was very young indeed. - -What I felt, in returning so auspiciously to the old familiar places, -I shall not endeavour to describe. We went down by the Mail. I was -so concerned, I recollect, even for the honour of Yarmouth, that when -Steerforth said, as we drove through its dark streets to the inn, that, -as well as he could make out, it was a good, queer, out-of-the-way kind -of hole, I was highly pleased. We went to bed on our arrival (I observed -a pair of dirty shoes and gaiters in connexion with my old friend the -Dolphin as we passed that door), and breakfasted late in the morning. -Steerforth, who was in great spirits, had been strolling about the -beach before I was up, and had made acquaintance, he said, with half the -boatmen in the place. Moreover, he had seen, in the distance, what he -was sure must be the identical house of Mr. Peggotty, with smoke coming -out of the chimney; and had had a great mind, he told me, to walk in and -swear he was myself grown out of knowledge. - -'When do you propose to introduce me there, Daisy?' he said. 'I am at -your disposal. Make your own arrangements.' - -'Why, I was thinking that this evening would be a good time, Steerforth, -when they are all sitting round the fire. I should like you to see it -when it's snug, it's such a curious place.' - -'So be it!' returned Steerforth. 'This evening.' - -'I shall not give them any notice that we are here, you know,' said I, -delighted. 'We must take them by surprise.' - -'Oh, of course! It's no fun,' said Steerforth, 'unless we take them by -surprise. Let us see the natives in their aboriginal condition.' - -'Though they ARE that sort of people that you mentioned,' I returned. - -'Aha! What! you recollect my skirmishes with Rosa, do you?' he exclaimed -with a quick look. 'Confound the girl, I am half afraid of her. She's -like a goblin to me. But never mind her. Now what are you going to do? -You are going to see your nurse, I suppose?' - -'Why, yes,' I said, 'I must see Peggotty first of all.' - -'Well,' replied Steerforth, looking at his watch. 'Suppose I deliver you -up to be cried over for a couple of hours. Is that long enough?' - -I answered, laughing, that I thought we might get through it in that -time, but that he must come also; for he would find that his renown had -preceded him, and that he was almost as great a personage as I was. - -'I'll come anywhere you like,' said Steerforth, 'or do anything you -like. Tell me where to come to; and in two hours I'll produce myself in -any state you please, sentimental or comical.' - -I gave him minute directions for finding the residence of Mr. Barkis, -carrier to Blunderstone and elsewhere; and, on this understanding, went -out alone. There was a sharp bracing air; the ground was dry; the sea -was crisp and clear; the sun was diffusing abundance of light, if not -much warmth; and everything was fresh and lively. I was so fresh and -lively myself, in the pleasure of being there, that I could have stopped -the people in the streets and shaken hands with them. - -The streets looked small, of course. The streets that we have only seen -as children always do, I believe, when we go back to them. But I had -forgotten nothing in them, and found nothing changed, until I came to -Mr. Omer's shop. OMER AND Joram was now written up, where OMER used to -be; but the inscription, DRAPER, TAILOR, HABERDASHER, FUNERAL FURNISHER, -&c., remained as it was. - -My footsteps seemed to tend so naturally to the shop door, after I had -read these words from over the way, that I went across the road and -looked in. There was a pretty woman at the back of the shop, dancing -a little child in her arms, while another little fellow clung to her -apron. I had no difficulty in recognizing either Minnie or Minnie's -children. The glass door of the parlour was not open; but in the -workshop across the yard I could faintly hear the old tune playing, as -if it had never left off. - -'Is Mr. Omer at home?' said I, entering. 'I should like to see him, for -a moment, if he is.' - -'Oh yes, sir, he is at home,' said Minnie; 'the weather don't suit his -asthma out of doors. Joe, call your grandfather!' - -The little fellow, who was holding her apron, gave such a lusty shout, -that the sound of it made him bashful, and he buried his face in her -skirts, to her great admiration. I heard a heavy puffing and blowing -coming towards us, and soon Mr. Omer, shorter-winded than of yore, but -not much older-looking, stood before me. - -'Servant, sir,' said Mr. Omer. 'What can I do for you, sir?' 'You can -shake hands with me, Mr. Omer, if you please,' said I, putting out my -own. 'You were very good-natured to me once, when I am afraid I didn't -show that I thought so.' - -'Was I though?' returned the old man. 'I'm glad to hear it, but I don't -remember when. Are you sure it was me?' - -'Quite.' - -'I think my memory has got as short as my breath,' said Mr. Omer, -looking at me and shaking his head; 'for I don't remember you.' - -'Don't you remember your coming to the coach to meet me, and my having -breakfast here, and our riding out to Blunderstone together: you, and I, -and Mrs. Joram, and Mr. Joram too--who wasn't her husband then?' - -'Why, Lord bless my soul!' exclaimed Mr. Omer, after being thrown by his -surprise into a fit of coughing, 'you don't say so! Minnie, my dear, you -recollect? Dear me, yes; the party was a lady, I think?' - -'My mother,' I rejoined. - -'To--be--sure,' said Mr. Omer, touching my waistcoat with his -forefinger, 'and there was a little child too! There was two parties. -The little party was laid along with the other party. Over at -Blunderstone it was, of course. Dear me! And how have you been since?' - -Very well, I thanked him, as I hoped he had been too. - -'Oh! nothing to grumble at, you know,' said Mr. Omer. 'I find my breath -gets short, but it seldom gets longer as a man gets older. I take it as -it comes, and make the most of it. That's the best way, ain't it?' - -Mr. Omer coughed again, in consequence of laughing, and was assisted out -of his fit by his daughter, who now stood close beside us, dancing her -smallest child on the counter. - -'Dear me!' said Mr. Omer. 'Yes, to be sure. Two parties! Why, in that -very ride, if you'll believe me, the day was named for my Minnie to -marry Joram. "Do name it, sir," says Joram. "Yes, do, father," says -Minnie. And now he's come into the business. And look here! The -youngest!' - -Minnie laughed, and stroked her banded hair upon her temples, as her -father put one of his fat fingers into the hand of the child she was -dancing on the counter. - -'Two parties, of course!' said Mr. Omer, nodding his head -retrospectively. 'Ex-actly so! And Joram's at work, at this minute, on -a grey one with silver nails, not this measurement'--the measurement of -the dancing child upon the counter--'by a good two inches.---Will you -take something?' - -I thanked him, but declined. - -'Let me see,' said Mr. Omer. 'Barkis's the carrier's wife--Peggotty's -the boatman's sister--she had something to do with your family? She was -in service there, sure?' - -My answering in the affirmative gave him great satisfaction. - -'I believe my breath will get long next, my memory's getting so much -so,' said Mr. Omer. 'Well, sir, we've got a young relation of hers here, -under articles to us, that has as elegant a taste in the dress-making -business--I assure you I don't believe there's a Duchess in England can -touch her.' - -'Not little Em'ly?' said I, involuntarily. - -'Em'ly's her name,' said Mr. Omer, 'and she's little too. But if you'll -believe me, she has such a face of her own that half the women in this -town are mad against her.' - -'Nonsense, father!' cried Minnie. - -'My dear,' said Mr. Omer, 'I don't say it's the case with you,' winking -at me, 'but I say that half the women in Yarmouth--ah! and in five mile -round--are mad against that girl.' - -'Then she should have kept to her own station in life, father,' said -Minnie, 'and not have given them any hold to talk about her, and then -they couldn't have done it.' - -'Couldn't have done it, my dear!' retorted Mr. Omer. 'Couldn't have -done it! Is that YOUR knowledge of life? What is there that any woman -couldn't do, that she shouldn't do--especially on the subject of another -woman's good looks?' - -I really thought it was all over with Mr. Omer, after he had uttered -this libellous pleasantry. He coughed to that extent, and his breath -eluded all his attempts to recover it with that obstinacy, that I fully -expected to see his head go down behind the counter, and his little -black breeches, with the rusty little bunches of ribbons at the knees, -come quivering up in a last ineffectual struggle. At length, however, -he got better, though he still panted hard, and was so exhausted that he -was obliged to sit on the stool of the shop-desk. - -'You see,' he said, wiping his head, and breathing with difficulty, 'she -hasn't taken much to any companions here; she hasn't taken kindly to -any particular acquaintances and friends, not to mention sweethearts. In -consequence, an ill-natured story got about, that Em'ly wanted to be a -lady. Now my opinion is, that it came into circulation principally on -account of her sometimes saying, at the school, that if she was a lady -she would like to do so-and-so for her uncle--don't you see?--and buy -him such-and-such fine things.' - -'I assure you, Mr. Omer, she has said so to me,' I returned eagerly, -'when we were both children.' - -Mr. Omer nodded his head and rubbed his chin. 'Just so. Then out of a -very little, she could dress herself, you see, better than most others -could out of a deal, and that made things unpleasant. Moreover, she was -rather what might be called wayward--I'll go so far as to say what I -should call wayward myself,' said Mr. Omer; '--didn't know her own mind -quite--a little spoiled--and couldn't, at first, exactly bind herself -down. No more than that was ever said against her, Minnie?' - -'No, father,' said Mrs. Joram. 'That's the worst, I believe.' - -'So when she got a situation,' said Mr. Omer, 'to keep a fractious old -lady company, they didn't very well agree, and she didn't stop. At last -she came here, apprenticed for three years. Nearly two of 'em are over, -and she has been as good a girl as ever was. Worth any six! Minnie, is -she worth any six, now?' - -'Yes, father,' replied Minnie. 'Never say I detracted from her!' - -'Very good,' said Mr. Omer. 'That's right. And so, young gentleman,' he -added, after a few moments' further rubbing of his chin, 'that you may -not consider me long-winded as well as short-breathed, I believe that's -all about it.' - -As they had spoken in a subdued tone, while speaking of Em'ly, I had no -doubt that she was near. On my asking now, if that were not so, Mr. -Omer nodded yes, and nodded towards the door of the parlour. My hurried -inquiry if I might peep in, was answered with a free permission; and, -looking through the glass, I saw her sitting at her work. I saw her, a -most beautiful little creature, with the cloudless blue eyes, that had -looked into my childish heart, turned laughingly upon another child -of Minnie's who was playing near her; with enough of wilfulness in her -bright face to justify what I had heard; with much of the old capricious -coyness lurking in it; but with nothing in her pretty looks, I am sure, -but what was meant for goodness and for happiness, and what was on a -good and happy course. - -The tune across the yard that seemed as if it never had left off--alas! -it was the tune that never DOES leave off--was beating, softly, all the -while. - -'Wouldn't you like to step in,' said Mr. Omer, 'and speak to her? Walk -in and speak to her, sir! Make yourself at home!' - -I was too bashful to do so then--I was afraid of confusing her, and I -was no less afraid of confusing myself.--but I informed myself of the -hour at which she left of an evening, in order that our visit might -be timed accordingly; and taking leave of Mr. Omer, and his pretty -daughter, and her little children, went away to my dear old Peggotty's. - -Here she was, in the tiled kitchen, cooking dinner! The moment I knocked -at the door she opened it, and asked me what I pleased to want. I looked -at her with a smile, but she gave me no smile in return. I had never -ceased to write to her, but it must have been seven years since we had -met. - -'Is Mr. Barkis at home, ma'am?' I said, feigning to speak roughly to -her. - -'He's at home, sir,' returned Peggotty, 'but he's bad abed with the -rheumatics.' - -'Don't he go over to Blunderstone now?' I asked. - -'When he's well he do,' she answered. - -'Do YOU ever go there, Mrs. Barkis?' - -She looked at me more attentively, and I noticed a quick movement of her -hands towards each other. - -'Because I want to ask a question about a house there, that they call -the--what is it?--the Rookery,' said I. - -She took a step backward, and put out her hands in an undecided -frightened way, as if to keep me off. - -'Peggotty!' I cried to her. - -She cried, 'My darling boy!' and we both burst into tears, and were -locked in one another's arms. - -What extravagances she committed; what laughing and crying over me; what -pride she showed, what joy, what sorrow that she whose pride and joy I -might have been, could never hold me in a fond embrace; I have not the -heart to tell. I was troubled with no misgiving that it was young in -me to respond to her emotions. I had never laughed and cried in all my -life, I dare say--not even to her--more freely than I did that morning. - -'Barkis will be so glad,' said Peggotty, wiping her eyes with her apron, -'that it'll do him more good than pints of liniment. May I go and tell -him you are here? Will you come up and see him, my dear?' - -Of course I would. But Peggotty could not get out of the room as easily -as she meant to, for as often as she got to the door and looked round -at me, she came back again to have another laugh and another cry upon my -shoulder. At last, to make the matter easier, I went upstairs with -her; and having waited outside for a minute, while she said a word of -preparation to Mr. Barkis, presented myself before that invalid. - -He received me with absolute enthusiasm. He was too rheumatic to be -shaken hands with, but he begged me to shake the tassel on the top of -his nightcap, which I did most cordially. When I sat down by the side -of the bed, he said that it did him a world of good to feel as if he -was driving me on the Blunderstone road again. As he lay in bed, face -upward, and so covered, with that exception, that he seemed to be -nothing but a face--like a conventional cherubim--he looked the queerest -object I ever beheld. - -'What name was it, as I wrote up in the cart, sir?' said Mr. Barkis, -with a slow rheumatic smile. - -'Ah! Mr. Barkis, we had some grave talks about that matter, hadn't we?' - -'I was willin' a long time, sir?' said Mr. Barkis. - -'A long time,' said I. - -'And I don't regret it,' said Mr. Barkis. 'Do you remember what you -told me once, about her making all the apple parsties and doing all the -cooking?' - -'Yes, very well,' I returned. - -'It was as true,' said Mr. Barkis, 'as turnips is. It was as true,' said -Mr. Barkis, nodding his nightcap, which was his only means of emphasis, -'as taxes is. And nothing's truer than them.' - -Mr. Barkis turned his eyes upon me, as if for my assent to this result -of his reflections in bed; and I gave it. - -'Nothing's truer than them,' repeated Mr. Barkis; 'a man as poor as I -am, finds that out in his mind when he's laid up. I'm a very poor man, -sir!' - -'I am sorry to hear it, Mr. Barkis.' - -'A very poor man, indeed I am,' said Mr. Barkis. - -Here his right hand came slowly and feebly from under the bedclothes, -and with a purposeless uncertain grasp took hold of a stick which was -loosely tied to the side of the bed. After some poking about with -this instrument, in the course of which his face assumed a variety of -distracted expressions, Mr. Barkis poked it against a box, an end -of which had been visible to me all the time. Then his face became -composed. - -'Old clothes,' said Mr. Barkis. - -'Oh!' said I. - -'I wish it was Money, sir,' said Mr. Barkis. - -'I wish it was, indeed,' said I. - -'But it AIN'T,' said Mr. Barkis, opening both his eyes as wide as he -possibly could. - -I expressed myself quite sure of that, and Mr. Barkis, turning his eyes -more gently to his wife, said: - -'She's the usefullest and best of women, C. P. Barkis. All the praise -that anyone can give to C. P. Barkis, she deserves, and more! My dear, -you'll get a dinner today, for company; something good to eat and drink, -will you?' - -I should have protested against this unnecessary demonstration in -my honour, but that I saw Peggotty, on the opposite side of the bed, -extremely anxious I should not. So I held my peace. - -'I have got a trifle of money somewhere about me, my dear,' said Mr. -Barkis, 'but I'm a little tired. If you and Mr. David will leave me for -a short nap, I'll try and find it when I wake.' - -We left the room, in compliance with this request. When we got outside -the door, Peggotty informed me that Mr. Barkis, being now 'a little -nearer' than he used to be, always resorted to this same device before -producing a single coin from his store; and that he endured unheard-of -agonies in crawling out of bed alone, and taking it from that unlucky -box. In effect, we presently heard him uttering suppressed groans of the -most dismal nature, as this magpie proceeding racked him in every joint; -but while Peggotty's eyes were full of compassion for him, she said his -generous impulse would do him good, and it was better not to check it. -So he groaned on, until he had got into bed again, suffering, I have no -doubt, a martyrdom; and then called us in, pretending to have just -woke up from a refreshing sleep, and to produce a guinea from under his -pillow. His satisfaction in which happy imposition on us, and in -having preserved the impenetrable secret of the box, appeared to be a -sufficient compensation to him for all his tortures. - -I prepared Peggotty for Steerforth's arrival and it was not long before -he came. I am persuaded she knew no difference between his having been a -personal benefactor of hers, and a kind friend to me, and that she would -have received him with the utmost gratitude and devotion in any case. -But his easy, spirited good humour; his genial manner, his handsome -looks, his natural gift of adapting himself to whomsoever he pleased, -and making direct, when he cared to do it, to the main point of interest -in anybody's heart; bound her to him wholly in five minutes. His -manner to me, alone, would have won her. But, through all these causes -combined, I sincerely believe she had a kind of adoration for him before -he left the house that night. - -He stayed there with me to dinner--if I were to say willingly, I should -not half express how readily and gaily. He went into Mr. Barkis's room -like light and air, brightening and refreshing it as if he were healthy -weather. There was no noise, no effort, no consciousness, in anything -he did; but in everything an indescribable lightness, a seeming -impossibility of doing anything else, or doing anything better, which -was so graceful, so natural, and agreeable, that it overcomes me, even -now, in the remembrance. - -We made merry in the little parlour, where the Book of Martyrs, -unthumbed since my time, was laid out upon the desk as of old, and where -I now turned over its terrific pictures, remembering the old sensations -they had awakened, but not feeling them. When Peggotty spoke of what -she called my room, and of its being ready for me at night, and of her -hoping I would occupy it, before I could so much as look at Steerforth, -hesitating, he was possessed of the whole case. - -'Of course,' he said. 'You'll sleep here, while we stay, and I shall -sleep at the hotel.' - -'But to bring you so far,' I returned, 'and to separate, seems bad -companionship, Steerforth.' - -'Why, in the name of Heaven, where do you naturally belong?' he said. -'What is "seems", compared to that?' It was settled at once. - -He maintained all his delightful qualities to the last, until we started -forth, at eight o'clock, for Mr. Peggotty's boat. Indeed, they were more -and more brightly exhibited as the hours went on; for I thought even -then, and I have no doubt now, that the consciousness of success in his -determination to please, inspired him with a new delicacy of perception, -and made it, subtle as it was, more easy to him. If anyone had told me, -then, that all this was a brilliant game, played for the excitement of -the moment, for the employment of high spirits, in the thoughtless love -of superiority, in a mere wasteful careless course of winning what was -worthless to him, and next minute thrown away--I say, if anyone had told -me such a lie that night, I wonder in what manner of receiving it my -indignation would have found a vent! Probably only in an increase, had -that been possible, of the romantic feelings of fidelity and friendship -with which I walked beside him, over the dark wintry sands towards the -old boat; the wind sighing around us even more mournfully, than it had -sighed and moaned upon the night when I first darkened Mr. Peggotty's -door. - -'This is a wild kind of place, Steerforth, is it not?' - -'Dismal enough in the dark,' he said: 'and the sea roars as if it were -hungry for us. Is that the boat, where I see a light yonder?' 'That's -the boat,' said I. - -'And it's the same I saw this morning,' he returned. 'I came straight to -it, by instinct, I suppose.' - -We said no more as we approached the light, but made softly for the -door. I laid my hand upon the latch; and whispering Steerforth to keep -close to me, went in. - -A murmur of voices had been audible on the outside, and, at the -moment of our entrance, a clapping of hands: which latter noise, I -was surprised to see, proceeded from the generally disconsolate Mrs. -Gummidge. But Mrs. Gummidge was not the only person there who was -unusually excited. Mr. Peggotty, his face lighted up with uncommon -satisfaction, and laughing with all his might, held his rough arms -wide open, as if for little Em'ly to run into them; Ham, with a mixed -expression in his face of admiration, exultation, and a lumbering sort -of bashfulness that sat upon him very well, held little Em'ly by -the hand, as if he were presenting her to Mr. Peggotty; little Em'ly -herself, blushing and shy, but delighted with Mr. Peggotty's delight, as -her joyous eyes expressed, was stopped by our entrance (for she saw us -first) in the very act of springing from Ham to nestle in Mr. Peggotty's -embrace. In the first glimpse we had of them all, and at the moment of -our passing from the dark cold night into the warm light room, this -was the way in which they were all employed: Mrs. Gummidge in the -background, clapping her hands like a madwoman. - -The little picture was so instantaneously dissolved by our going in, -that one might have doubted whether it had ever been. I was in the midst -of the astonished family, face to face with Mr. Peggotty, and holding -out my hand to him, when Ham shouted: - -'Mas'r Davy! It's Mas'r Davy!' - -In a moment we were all shaking hands with one another, and asking one -another how we did, and telling one another how glad we were to meet, -and all talking at once. Mr. Peggotty was so proud and overjoyed to see -us, that he did not know what to say or do, but kept over and over again -shaking hands with me, and then with Steerforth, and then with me, and -then ruffling his shaggy hair all over his head, and laughing with such -glee and triumph, that it was a treat to see him. - -'Why, that you two gent'lmen--gent'lmen growed--should come to this here -roof tonight, of all nights in my life,' said Mr. Peggotty, 'is such a -thing as never happened afore, I do rightly believe! Em'ly, my darling, -come here! Come here, my little witch! There's Mas'r Davy's friend, my -dear! There's the gent'lman as you've heerd on, Em'ly. He comes to see -you, along with Mas'r Davy, on the brightest night of your uncle's life -as ever was or will be, Gorm the t'other one, and horroar for it!' - -After delivering this speech all in a breath, and with extraordinary -animation and pleasure, Mr. Peggotty put one of his large hands -rapturously on each side of his niece's face, and kissing it a dozen -times, laid it with a gentle pride and love upon his broad chest, and -patted it as if his hand had been a lady's. Then he let her go; and as -she ran into the little chamber where I used to sleep, looked round upon -us, quite hot and out of breath with his uncommon satisfaction. - -'If you two gent'lmen--gent'lmen growed now, and such gent'lmen--' said -Mr. Peggotty. - -'So th' are, so th' are!' cried Ham. 'Well said! So th' are. Mas'r Davy -bor'--gent'lmen growed--so th' are!' - -'If you two gent'lmen, gent'lmen growed,' said Mr. Peggotty, 'don't -ex-cuse me for being in a state of mind, when you understand matters, -I'll arks your pardon. Em'ly, my dear!--She knows I'm a going to tell,' -here his delight broke out again, 'and has made off. Would you be so -good as look arter her, Mawther, for a minute?' - -Mrs. Gummidge nodded and disappeared. - -'If this ain't,' said Mr. Peggotty, sitting down among us by the fire, -'the brightest night o' my life, I'm a shellfish--biled too--and more I -can't say. This here little Em'ly, sir,' in a low voice to Steerforth, -'--her as you see a blushing here just now--' - -Steerforth only nodded; but with such a pleased expression of interest, -and of participation in Mr. Peggotty's feelings, that the latter -answered him as if he had spoken. - -'To be sure,' said Mr. Peggotty. 'That's her, and so she is. Thankee, -sir.' - -Ham nodded to me several times, as if he would have said so too. - -'This here little Em'ly of ours,' said Mr. Peggotty, 'has been, in our -house, what I suppose (I'm a ignorant man, but that's my belief) no one -but a little bright-eyed creetur can be in a house. She ain't my -child; I never had one; but I couldn't love her more. You understand! I -couldn't do it!' - -'I quite understand,' said Steerforth. - -'I know you do, sir,' returned Mr. Peggotty, 'and thankee again. Mas'r -Davy, he can remember what she was; you may judge for your own self what -she is; but neither of you can't fully know what she has been, is, and -will be, to my loving art. I am rough, sir,' said Mr. Peggotty, 'I am as -rough as a Sea Porkypine; but no one, unless, mayhap, it is a woman, can -know, I think, what our little Em'ly is to me. And betwixt ourselves,' -sinking his voice lower yet, 'that woman's name ain't Missis Gummidge -neither, though she has a world of merits.' Mr. Peggotty ruffled his -hair again, with both hands, as a further preparation for what he was -going to say, and went on, with a hand upon each of his knees: - -'There was a certain person as had know'd our Em'ly, from the time when -her father was drownded; as had seen her constant; when a babby, when -a young gal, when a woman. Not much of a person to look at, he warn't,' -said Mr. Peggotty, 'something o' my own build--rough--a good deal o' -the sou'-wester in him--wery salt--but, on the whole, a honest sort of a -chap, with his art in the right place.' - -I thought I had never seen Ham grin to anything like the extent to which -he sat grinning at us now. - -'What does this here blessed tarpaulin go and do,' said Mr. Peggotty, -with his face one high noon of enjoyment, 'but he loses that there art -of his to our little Em'ly. He follers her about, he makes hisself a -sort o' servant to her, he loses in a great measure his relish for his -wittles, and in the long-run he makes it clear to me wot's amiss. Now I -could wish myself, you see, that our little Em'ly was in a fair way of -being married. I could wish to see her, at all ewents, under articles to -a honest man as had a right to defend her. I don't know how long I may -live, or how soon I may die; but I know that if I was capsized, any -night, in a gale of wind in Yarmouth Roads here, and was to see the -town-lights shining for the last time over the rollers as I couldn't -make no head against, I could go down quieter for thinking "There's a -man ashore there, iron-true to my little Em'ly, God bless her, and no -wrong can touch my Em'ly while so be as that man lives."' - -Mr. Peggotty, in simple earnestness, waved his right arm, as if he were -waving it at the town-lights for the last time, and then, exchanging a -nod with Ham, whose eye he caught, proceeded as before. - -'Well! I counsels him to speak to Em'ly. He's big enough, but he's -bashfuller than a little un, and he don't like. So I speak. "What! Him!" -says Em'ly. "Him that I've know'd so intimate so many years, and like so -much. Oh, Uncle! I never can have him. He's such a good fellow!" I gives -her a kiss, and I says no more to her than, "My dear, you're right to -speak out, you're to choose for yourself, you're as free as a little -bird." Then I aways to him, and I says, "I wish it could have been so, -but it can't. But you can both be as you was, and wot I say to you is, -Be as you was with her, like a man." He says to me, a-shaking of my -hand, "I will!" he says. And he was--honourable and manful--for two year -going on, and we was just the same at home here as afore.' - -Mr. Peggotty's face, which had varied in its expression with the various -stages of his narrative, now resumed all its former triumphant delight, -as he laid a hand upon my knee and a hand upon Steerforth's (previously -wetting them both, for the greater emphasis of the action), and divided -the following speech between us: - -'All of a sudden, one evening--as it might be tonight--comes little -Em'ly from her work, and him with her! There ain't so much in that, -you'll say. No, because he takes care on her, like a brother, arter -dark, and indeed afore dark, and at all times. But this tarpaulin chap, -he takes hold of her hand, and he cries out to me, joyful, "Look here! -This is to be my little wife!" And she says, half bold and half shy, and -half a laughing and half a crying, "Yes, Uncle! If you please."--If I -please!' cried Mr. Peggotty, rolling his head in an ecstasy at the idea; -'Lord, as if I should do anythink else!--"If you please, I am steadier -now, and I have thought better of it, and I'll be as good a little wife -as I can to him, for he's a dear, good fellow!" Then Missis Gummidge, -she claps her hands like a play, and you come in. Theer! the murder's -out!' said Mr. Peggotty--'You come in! It took place this here present -hour; and here's the man that'll marry her, the minute she's out of her -time.' - -Ham staggered, as well he might, under the blow Mr. Peggotty dealt -him in his unbounded joy, as a mark of confidence and friendship; but -feeling called upon to say something to us, he said, with much faltering -and great difficulty: - -'She warn't no higher than you was, Mas'r Davy--when you first -come--when I thought what she'd grow up to be. I see her grown -up--gent'lmen--like a flower. I'd lay down my life for -her--Mas'r Davy--Oh! most content and cheerful! She's more to -me--gent'lmen--than--she's all to me that ever I can want, and more -than ever I--than ever I could say. I--I love her true. There ain't a -gent'lman in all the land--nor yet sailing upon all the sea--that -can love his lady more than I love her, though there's many a common -man--would say better--what he meant.' - -I thought it affecting to see such a sturdy fellow as Ham was now, -trembling in the strength of what he felt for the pretty little creature -who had won his heart. I thought the simple confidence reposed in us by -Mr. Peggotty and by himself, was, in itself, affecting. I was affected -by the story altogether. How far my emotions were influenced by the -recollections of my childhood, I don't know. Whether I had come there -with any lingering fancy that I was still to love little Em'ly, I don't -know. I know that I was filled with pleasure by all this; but, at first, -with an indescribably sensitive pleasure, that a very little would have -changed to pain. - -Therefore, if it had depended upon me to touch the prevailing chord -among them with any skill, I should have made a poor hand of it. But it -depended upon Steerforth; and he did it with such address, that in a few -minutes we were all as easy and as happy as it was possible to be. - -'Mr. Peggotty,' he said, 'you are a thoroughly good fellow, and deserve -to be as happy as you are tonight. My hand upon it! Ham, I give you -joy, my boy. My hand upon that, too! Daisy, stir the fire, and make it a -brisk one! and Mr. Peggotty, unless you can induce your gentle niece to -come back (for whom I vacate this seat in the corner), I shall go. -Any gap at your fireside on such a night--such a gap least of all--I -wouldn't make, for the wealth of the Indies!' - -So Mr. Peggotty went into my old room to fetch little Em'ly. At first -little Em'ly didn't like to come, and then Ham went. Presently they -brought her to the fireside, very much confused, and very shy,--but -she soon became more assured when she found how gently and respectfully -Steerforth spoke to her; how skilfully he avoided anything that would -embarrass her; how he talked to Mr. Peggotty of boats, and ships, and -tides, and fish; how he referred to me about the time when he had seen -Mr. Peggotty at Salem House; how delighted he was with the boat and all -belonging to it; how lightly and easily he carried on, until he brought -us, by degrees, into a charmed circle, and we were all talking away -without any reserve. - -Em'ly, indeed, said little all the evening; but she looked, and -listened, and her face got animated, and she was charming. Steerforth -told a story of a dismal shipwreck (which arose out of his talk with Mr. -Peggotty), as if he saw it all before him--and little Em'ly's eyes were -fastened on him all the time, as if she saw it too. He told us a merry -adventure of his own, as a relief to that, with as much gaiety as if the -narrative were as fresh to him as it was to us--and little Em'ly -laughed until the boat rang with the musical sounds, and we all laughed -(Steerforth too), in irresistible sympathy with what was so pleasant and -light-hearted. He got Mr. Peggotty to sing, or rather to roar, 'When -the stormy winds do blow, do blow, do blow'; and he sang a sailor's -song himself, so pathetically and beautifully, that I could have almost -fancied that the real wind creeping sorrowfully round the house, and -murmuring low through our unbroken silence, was there to listen. - -As to Mrs. Gummidge, he roused that victim of despondency with a success -never attained by anyone else (so Mr. Peggotty informed me), since -the decease of the old one. He left her so little leisure for being -miserable, that she said next day she thought she must have been -bewitched. - -But he set up no monopoly of the general attention, or the conversation. -When little Em'ly grew more courageous, and talked (but still bashfully) -across the fire to me, of our old wanderings upon the beach, to pick up -shells and pebbles; and when I asked her if she recollected how I used -to be devoted to her; and when we both laughed and reddened, casting -these looks back on the pleasant old times, so unreal to look at now; he -was silent and attentive, and observed us thoughtfully. She sat, at this -time, and all the evening, on the old locker in her old little corner -by the fire--Ham beside her, where I used to sit. I could not satisfy -myself whether it was in her own little tormenting way, or in a maidenly -reserve before us, that she kept quite close to the wall, and away from -him; but I observed that she did so, all the evening. - -As I remember, it was almost midnight when we took our leave. We had had -some biscuit and dried fish for supper, and Steerforth had produced from -his pocket a full flask of Hollands, which we men (I may say we men, -now, without a blush) had emptied. We parted merrily; and as they all -stood crowded round the door to light us as far as they could upon our -road, I saw the sweet blue eyes of little Em'ly peeping after us, from -behind Ham, and heard her soft voice calling to us to be careful how we -went. - -'A most engaging little Beauty!' said Steerforth, taking my arm. 'Well! -It's a quaint place, and they are quaint company, and it's quite a new -sensation to mix with them.' - -'How fortunate we are, too,' I returned, 'to have arrived to witness -their happiness in that intended marriage! I never saw people so happy. -How delightful to see it, and to be made the sharers in their honest -joy, as we have been!' - -'That's rather a chuckle-headed fellow for the girl; isn't he?' said -Steerforth. - -He had been so hearty with him, and with them all, that I felt a shock -in this unexpected and cold reply. But turning quickly upon him, and -seeing a laugh in his eyes, I answered, much relieved: - -'Ah, Steerforth! It's well for you to joke about the poor! You may -skirmish with Miss Dartle, or try to hide your sympathies in jest from -me, but I know better. When I see how perfectly you understand them, how -exquisitely you can enter into happiness like this plain fisherman's, -or humour a love like my old nurse's, I know that there is not a joy or -sorrow, not an emotion, of such people, that can be indifferent to you. -And I admire and love you for it, Steerforth, twenty times the more!' - -He stopped, and, looking in my face, said, 'Daisy, I believe you are -in earnest, and are good. I wish we all were!' Next moment he was -gaily singing Mr. Peggotty's song, as we walked at a round pace back to -Yarmouth. - - - -CHAPTER 22. SOME OLD SCENES, AND SOME NEW PEOPLE - - -Steerforth and I stayed for more than a fortnight in that part of the -country. We were very much together, I need not say; but occasionally we -were asunder for some hours at a time. He was a good sailor, and I was -but an indifferent one; and when he went out boating with Mr. Peggotty, -which was a favourite amusement of his, I generally remained ashore. My -occupation of Peggotty's spare-room put a constraint upon me, from which -he was free: for, knowing how assiduously she attended on Mr. Barkis -all day, I did not like to remain out late at night; whereas Steerforth, -lying at the Inn, had nothing to consult but his own humour. Thus it -came about, that I heard of his making little treats for the fishermen -at Mr. Peggotty's house of call, 'The Willing Mind', after I was in bed, -and of his being afloat, wrapped in fishermen's clothes, whole moonlight -nights, and coming back when the morning tide was at flood. By this -time, however, I knew that his restless nature and bold spirits -delighted to find a vent in rough toil and hard weather, as in any other -means of excitement that presented itself freshly to him; so none of his -proceedings surprised me. - -Another cause of our being sometimes apart, was, that I had naturally an -interest in going over to Blunderstone, and revisiting the old familiar -scenes of my childhood; while Steerforth, after being there once, had -naturally no great interest in going there again. Hence, on three or -four days that I can at once recall, we went our several ways after an -early breakfast, and met again at a late dinner. I had no idea how he -employed his time in the interval, beyond a general knowledge that -he was very popular in the place, and had twenty means of actively -diverting himself where another man might not have found one. - -For my own part, my occupation in my solitary pilgrimages was to recall -every yard of the old road as I went along it, and to haunt the old -spots, of which I never tired. I haunted them, as my memory had often -done, and lingered among them as my younger thoughts had lingered when I -was far away. The grave beneath the tree, where both my parents lay--on -which I had looked out, when it was my father's only, with such curious -feelings of compassion, and by which I had stood, so desolate, when it -was opened to receive my pretty mother and her baby--the grave which -Peggotty's own faithful care had ever since kept neat, and made a garden -of, I walked near, by the hour. It lay a little off the churchyard path, -in a quiet corner, not so far removed but I could read the names -upon the stone as I walked to and fro, startled by the sound of the -church-bell when it struck the hour, for it was like a departed voice to -me. My reflections at these times were always associated with the figure -I was to make in life, and the distinguished things I was to do. My -echoing footsteps went to no other tune, but were as constant to that as -if I had come home to build my castles in the air at a living mother's -side. - -There were great changes in my old home. The ragged nests, so long -deserted by the rooks, were gone; and the trees were lopped and topped -out of their remembered shapes. The garden had run wild, and half the -windows of the house were shut up. It was occupied, but only by a poor -lunatic gentleman, and the people who took care of him. He was always -sitting at my little window, looking out into the churchyard; and I -wondered whether his rambling thoughts ever went upon any of the fancies -that used to occupy mine, on the rosy mornings when I peeped out of -that same little window in my night-clothes, and saw the sheep quietly -feeding in the light of the rising sun. - -Our old neighbours, Mr. and Mrs. Grayper, were gone to South America, -and the rain had made its way through the roof of their empty house, -and stained the outer walls. Mr. Chillip was married again to a tall, -raw-boned, high-nosed wife; and they had a weazen little baby, with a -heavy head that it couldn't hold up, and two weak staring eyes, with -which it seemed to be always wondering why it had ever been born. - -It was with a singular jumble of sadness and pleasure that I used to -linger about my native place, until the reddening winter sun admonished -me that it was time to start on my returning walk. But, when the place -was left behind, and especially when Steerforth and I were happily -seated over our dinner by a blazing fire, it was delicious to think of -having been there. So it was, though in a softened degree, when I -went to my neat room at night; and, turning over the leaves of the -crocodile-book (which was always there, upon a little table), remembered -with a grateful heart how blest I was in having such a friend as -Steerforth, such a friend as Peggotty, and such a substitute for what I -had lost as my excellent and generous aunt. - -MY nearest way to Yarmouth, in coming back from these long walks, was by -a ferry. It landed me on the flat between the town and the sea, which I -could make straight across, and so save myself a considerable circuit by -the high road. Mr. Peggotty's house being on that waste-place, and not -a hundred yards out of my track, I always looked in as I went by. -Steerforth was pretty sure to be there expecting me, and we went on -together through the frosty air and gathering fog towards the twinkling -lights of the town. - -One dark evening, when I was later than usual--for I had, that day, been -making my parting visit to Blunderstone, as we were now about to return -home--I found him alone in Mr. Peggotty's house, sitting thoughtfully -before the fire. He was so intent upon his own reflections that he was -quite unconscious of my approach. This, indeed, he might easily have -been if he had been less absorbed, for footsteps fell noiselessly on the -sandy ground outside; but even my entrance failed to rouse him. I was -standing close to him, looking at him; and still, with a heavy brow, he -was lost in his meditations. - -He gave such a start when I put my hand upon his shoulder, that he made -me start too. - -'You come upon me,' he said, almost angrily, 'like a reproachful ghost!' - -'I was obliged to announce myself, somehow,' I replied. 'Have I called -you down from the stars?' - -'No,' he answered. 'No.' - -'Up from anywhere, then?' said I, taking my seat near him. - -'I was looking at the pictures in the fire,' he returned. - -'But you are spoiling them for me,' said I, as he stirred it quickly -with a piece of burning wood, striking out of it a train of red-hot -sparks that went careering up the little chimney, and roaring out into -the air. - -'You would not have seen them,' he returned. 'I detest this mongrel -time, neither day nor night. How late you are! Where have you been?' - -'I have been taking leave of my usual walk,' said I. - -'And I have been sitting here,' said Steerforth, glancing round the -room, 'thinking that all the people we found so glad on the night of -our coming down, might--to judge from the present wasted air of the -place--be dispersed, or dead, or come to I don't know what harm. David, -I wish to God I had had a judicious father these last twenty years!' - -'My dear Steerforth, what is the matter?' - -'I wish with all my soul I had been better guided!' he exclaimed. 'I -wish with all my soul I could guide myself better!' - -There was a passionate dejection in his manner that quite amazed me. He -was more unlike himself than I could have supposed possible. - -'It would be better to be this poor Peggotty, or his lout of a nephew,' -he said, getting up and leaning moodily against the chimney-piece, with -his face towards the fire, 'than to be myself, twenty times richer and -twenty times wiser, and be the torment to myself that I have been, in -this Devil's bark of a boat, within the last half-hour!' - -I was so confounded by the alteration in him, that at first I could only -observe him in silence, as he stood leaning his head upon his hand, and -looking gloomily down at the fire. At length I begged him, with all -the earnestness I felt, to tell me what had occurred to cross him so -unusually, and to let me sympathize with him, if I could not hope to -advise him. Before I had well concluded, he began to laugh--fretfully at -first, but soon with returning gaiety. - -'Tut, it's nothing, Daisy! nothing!' he replied. 'I told you at the -inn in London, I am heavy company for myself, sometimes. I have been a -nightmare to myself, just now--must have had one, I think. At odd dull -times, nursery tales come up into the memory, unrecognized for what -they are. I believe I have been confounding myself with the bad boy who -"didn't care", and became food for lions--a grander kind of going to -the dogs, I suppose. What old women call the horrors, have been creeping -over me from head to foot. I have been afraid of myself.' - -'You are afraid of nothing else, I think,' said I. - -'Perhaps not, and yet may have enough to be afraid of too,' he answered. -'Well! So it goes by! I am not about to be hipped again, David; but I -tell you, my good fellow, once more, that it would have been well for me -(and for more than me) if I had had a steadfast and judicious father!' - -His face was always full of expression, but I never saw it express such -a dark kind of earnestness as when he said these words, with his glance -bent on the fire. - -'So much for that!' he said, making as if he tossed something light -into the air, with his hand. "'Why, being gone, I am a man again," like -Macbeth. And now for dinner! If I have not (Macbeth-like) broken up the -feast with most admired disorder, Daisy.' - -'But where are they all, I wonder!' said I. - -'God knows,' said Steerforth. 'After strolling to the ferry looking -for you, I strolled in here and found the place deserted. That set me -thinking, and you found me thinking.' - -The advent of Mrs. Gummidge with a basket, explained how the house had -happened to be empty. She had hurried out to buy something that was -needed, against Mr. Peggotty's return with the tide; and had left the -door open in the meanwhile, lest Ham and little Em'ly, with whom it was -an early night, should come home while she was gone. Steerforth, after -very much improving Mrs. Gummidge's spirits by a cheerful salutation and -a jocose embrace, took my arm, and hurried me away. - -He had improved his own spirits, no less than Mrs. Gummidge's, for -they were again at their usual flow, and he was full of vivacious -conversation as we went along. - -'And so,' he said, gaily, 'we abandon this buccaneer life tomorrow, do -we?' - -'So we agreed,' I returned. 'And our places by the coach are taken, you -know.' - -'Ay! there's no help for it, I suppose,' said Steerforth. 'I have -almost forgotten that there is anything to do in the world but to go out -tossing on the sea here. I wish there was not.' - -'As long as the novelty should last,' said I, laughing. - -'Like enough,' he returned; 'though there's a sarcastic meaning in that -observation for an amiable piece of innocence like my young friend. -Well! I dare say I am a capricious fellow, David. I know I am; but -while the iron is hot, I can strike it vigorously too. I could pass -a reasonably good examination already, as a pilot in these waters, I -think.' - -'Mr. Peggotty says you are a wonder,' I returned. - -'A nautical phenomenon, eh?' laughed Steerforth. - -'Indeed he does, and you know how truly; I know how ardent you are -in any pursuit you follow, and how easily you can master it. And that -amazes me most in you, Steerforth--that you should be contented with -such fitful uses of your powers.' - -'Contented?' he answered, merrily. 'I am never contented, except with -your freshness, my gentle Daisy. As to fitfulness, I have never learnt -the art of binding myself to any of the wheels on which the Ixions of -these days are turning round and round. I missed it somehow in a bad -apprenticeship, and now don't care about it.---You know I have bought a -boat down here?' - -'What an extraordinary fellow you are, Steerforth!' I exclaimed, -stopping--for this was the first I had heard of it. 'When you may never -care to come near the place again!' - -'I don't know that,' he returned. 'I have taken a fancy to the place. At -all events,' walking me briskly on, 'I have bought a boat that was for -sale--a clipper, Mr. Peggotty says; and so she is--and Mr. Peggotty will -be master of her in my absence.' - -'Now I understand you, Steerforth!' said I, exultingly. 'You pretend -to have bought it for yourself, but you have really done so to confer -a benefit on him. I might have known as much at first, knowing you. -My dear kind Steerforth, how can I tell you what I think of your -generosity?' - -'Tush!' he answered, turning red. 'The less said, the better.' - -'Didn't I know?' cried I, 'didn't I say that there was not a joy, or -sorrow, or any emotion of such honest hearts that was indifferent to -you?' - -'Aye, aye,' he answered, 'you told me all that. There let it rest. We -have said enough!' - -Afraid of offending him by pursuing the subject when he made so light -of it, I only pursued it in my thoughts as we went on at even a quicker -pace than before. - -'She must be newly rigged,' said Steerforth, 'and I shall leave Littimer -behind to see it done, that I may know she is quite complete. Did I tell -you Littimer had come down?' - -'No.' - -'Oh yes! came down this morning, with a letter from my mother.' - -As our looks met, I observed that he was pale even to his lips, though -he looked very steadily at me. I feared that some difference between him -and his mother might have led to his being in the frame of mind in which -I had found him at the solitary fireside. I hinted so. - -'Oh no!' he said, shaking his head, and giving a slight laugh. 'Nothing -of the sort! Yes. He is come down, that man of mine.' - -'The same as ever?' said I. - -'The same as ever,' said Steerforth. 'Distant and quiet as the North -Pole. He shall see to the boat being fresh named. She's the "Stormy -Petrel" now. What does Mr. Peggotty care for Stormy Petrels! I'll have -her christened again.' - -'By what name?' I asked. - -'The "Little Em'ly".' - -As he had continued to look steadily at me, I took it as a reminder that -he objected to being extolled for his consideration. I could not help -showing in my face how much it pleased me, but I said little, and he -resumed his usual smile, and seemed relieved. - -'But see here,' he said, looking before us, 'where the original little -Em'ly comes! And that fellow with her, eh? Upon my soul, he's a true -knight. He never leaves her!' - -Ham was a boat-builder in these days, having improved a natural -ingenuity in that handicraft, until he had become a skilled workman. He -was in his working-dress, and looked rugged enough, but manly withal, -and a very fit protector for the blooming little creature at his -side. Indeed, there was a frankness in his face, an honesty, and an -undisguised show of his pride in her, and his love for her, which were, -to me, the best of good looks. I thought, as they came towards us, that -they were well matched even in that particular. - -She withdrew her hand timidly from his arm as we stopped to speak to -them, and blushed as she gave it to Steerforth and to me. When they -passed on, after we had exchanged a few words, she did not like to -replace that hand, but, still appearing timid and constrained, walked -by herself. I thought all this very pretty and engaging, and Steerforth -seemed to think so too, as we looked after them fading away in the light -of a young moon. - -Suddenly there passed us--evidently following them--a young woman whose -approach we had not observed, but whose face I saw as she went by, and -thought I had a faint remembrance of. She was lightly dressed; looked -bold, and haggard, and flaunting, and poor; but seemed, for the time, to -have given all that to the wind which was blowing, and to have nothing -in her mind but going after them. As the dark distant level, absorbing -their figures into itself, left but itself visible between us and the -sea and clouds, her figure disappeared in like manner, still no nearer -to them than before. - -'That is a black shadow to be following the girl,' said Steerforth, -standing still; 'what does it mean?' - -He spoke in a low voice that sounded almost strange to Me. - -'She must have it in her mind to beg of them, I think,' said I. - -'A beggar would be no novelty,' said Steerforth; 'but it is a strange -thing that the beggar should take that shape tonight.' - -'Why?' I asked. - -'For no better reason, truly, than because I was thinking,' he said, -after a pause, 'of something like it, when it came by. Where the Devil -did it come from, I wonder!' - -'From the shadow of this wall, I think,' said I, as we emerged upon a -road on which a wall abutted. - -'It's gone!' he returned, looking over his shoulder. 'And all ill go -with it. Now for our dinner!' - -But he looked again over his shoulder towards the sea-line glimmering -afar off, and yet again. And he wondered about it, in some broken -expressions, several times, in the short remainder of our walk; and only -seemed to forget it when the light of fire and candle shone upon us, -seated warm and merry, at table. - -Littimer was there, and had his usual effect upon me. When I said to -him that I hoped Mrs. Steerforth and Miss Dartle were well, he answered -respectfully (and of course respectably), that they were tolerably well, -he thanked me, and had sent their compliments. This was all, and yet he -seemed to me to say as plainly as a man could say: 'You are very young, -sir; you are exceedingly young.' - -We had almost finished dinner, when taking a step or two towards the -table, from the corner where he kept watch upon us, or rather upon me, -as I felt, he said to his master: - -'I beg your pardon, sir. Miss Mowcher is down here.' - -'Who?' cried Steerforth, much astonished. - -'Miss Mowcher, sir.' - -'Why, what on earth does she do here?' said Steerforth. - -'It appears to be her native part of the country, sir. She informs me -that she makes one of her professional visits here, every year, sir. -I met her in the street this afternoon, and she wished to know if she -might have the honour of waiting on you after dinner, sir.' - -'Do you know the Giantess in question, Daisy?' inquired Steerforth. - -I was obliged to confess--I felt ashamed, even of being at this -disadvantage before Littimer--that Miss Mowcher and I were wholly -unacquainted. - -'Then you shall know her,' said Steerforth, 'for she is one of the seven -wonders of the world. When Miss Mowcher comes, show her in.' - -I felt some curiosity and excitement about this lady, especially as -Steerforth burst into a fit of laughing when I referred to her, and -positively refused to answer any question of which I made her the -subject. I remained, therefore, in a state of considerable expectation -until the cloth had been removed some half an hour, and we were sitting -over our decanter of wine before the fire, when the door opened, and -Littimer, with his habitual serenity quite undisturbed, announced: - -'Miss Mowcher!' - -I looked at the doorway and saw nothing. I was still looking at -the doorway, thinking that Miss Mowcher was a long while making her -appearance, when, to my infinite astonishment, there came waddling round -a sofa which stood between me and it, a pursy dwarf, of about forty -or forty-five, with a very large head and face, a pair of roguish grey -eyes, and such extremely little arms, that, to enable herself to lay a -finger archly against her snub nose, as she ogled Steerforth, she was -obliged to meet the finger half-way, and lay her nose against it. -Her chin, which was what is called a double chin, was so fat that it -entirely swallowed up the strings of her bonnet, bow and all. Throat she -had none; waist she had none; legs she had none, worth mentioning; for -though she was more than full-sized down to where her waist would have -been, if she had had any, and though she terminated, as human beings -generally do, in a pair of feet, she was so short that she stood at a -common-sized chair as at a table, resting a bag she carried on the seat. -This lady--dressed in an off-hand, easy style; bringing her nose and her -forefinger together, with the difficulty I have described; standing with -her head necessarily on one side, and, with one of her sharp eyes shut -up, making an uncommonly knowing face--after ogling Steerforth for a few -moments, broke into a torrent of words. - -'What! My flower!' she pleasantly began, shaking her large head at him. -'You're there, are you! Oh, you naughty boy, fie for shame, what do you -do so far away from home? Up to mischief, I'll be bound. Oh, you're a -downy fellow, Steerforth, so you are, and I'm another, ain't I? Ha, ha, -ha! You'd have betted a hundred pound to five, now, that you wouldn't -have seen me here, wouldn't you? Bless you, man alive, I'm everywhere. -I'm here and there, and where not, like the conjurer's half-crown in the -lady's handkercher. Talking of handkerchers--and talking of ladies--what -a comfort you are to your blessed mother, ain't you, my dear boy, over -one of my shoulders, and I don't say which!' - -Miss Mowcher untied her bonnet, at this passage of her discourse, threw -back the strings, and sat down, panting, on a footstool in front of -the fire--making a kind of arbour of the dining table, which spread its -mahogany shelter above her head. - -'Oh my stars and what's-their-names!' she went on, clapping a hand on -each of her little knees, and glancing shrewdly at me, 'I'm of too full -a habit, that's the fact, Steerforth. After a flight of stairs, it gives -me as much trouble to draw every breath I want, as if it was a bucket of -water. If you saw me looking out of an upper window, you'd think I was a -fine woman, wouldn't you?' - -'I should think that, wherever I saw you,' replied Steerforth. - -'Go along, you dog, do!' cried the little creature, making a whisk at -him with the handkerchief with which she was wiping her face, 'and don't -be impudent! But I give you my word and honour I was at Lady Mithers's -last week--THERE'S a woman! How SHE wears!--and Mithers himself came -into the room where I was waiting for her--THERE'S a man! How HE wears! -and his wig too, for he's had it these ten years--and he went on at -that rate in the complimentary line, that I began to think I should be -obliged to ring the bell. Ha! ha! ha! He's a pleasant wretch, but he -wants principle.' - -'What were you doing for Lady Mithers?' asked Steerforth. - -'That's tellings, my blessed infant,' she retorted, tapping her nose -again, screwing up her face, and twinkling her eyes like an imp of -supernatural intelligence. 'Never YOU mind! You'd like to know whether -I stop her hair from falling off, or dye it, or touch up her -complexion, or improve her eyebrows, wouldn't you? And so you shall, my -darling--when I tell you! Do you know what my great grandfather's name -was?' - -'No,' said Steerforth. - -'It was Walker, my sweet pet,' replied Miss Mowcher, 'and he came of a -long line of Walkers, that I inherit all the Hookey estates from.' - -I never beheld anything approaching to Miss Mowcher's wink except Miss -Mowcher's self-possession. She had a wonderful way too, when listening -to what was said to her, or when waiting for an answer to what she had -said herself, of pausing with her head cunningly on one side, and one -eye turned up like a magpie's. Altogether I was lost in amazement, -and sat staring at her, quite oblivious, I am afraid, of the laws of -politeness. - -She had by this time drawn the chair to her side, and was busily engaged -in producing from the bag (plunging in her short arm to the shoulder, at -every dive) a number of small bottles, sponges, combs, brushes, bits of -flannel, little pairs of curling-irons, and other instruments, which -she tumbled in a heap upon the chair. From this employment she suddenly -desisted, and said to Steerforth, much to my confusion: - -'Who's your friend?' - -'Mr. Copperfield,' said Steerforth; 'he wants to know you.' - -'Well, then, he shall! I thought he looked as if he did!' returned Miss -Mowcher, waddling up to me, bag in hand, and laughing on me as she came. -'Face like a peach!' standing on tiptoe to pinch my cheek as I -sat. 'Quite tempting! I'm very fond of peaches. Happy to make your -acquaintance, Mr. Copperfield, I'm sure.' - -I said that I congratulated myself on having the honour to make hers, -and that the happiness was mutual. - -'Oh, my goodness, how polite we are!' exclaimed Miss Mowcher, making a -preposterous attempt to cover her large face with her morsel of a hand. -'What a world of gammon and spinnage it is, though, ain't it!' - -This was addressed confidentially to both of us, as the morsel of a -hand came away from the face, and buried itself, arm and all, in the bag -again. - -'What do you mean, Miss Mowcher?' said Steerforth. - -'Ha! ha! ha! What a refreshing set of humbugs we are, to be sure, ain't -we, my sweet child?' replied that morsel of a woman, feeling in the bag -with her head on one side and her eye in the air. 'Look here!' taking -something out. 'Scraps of the Russian Prince's nails. Prince Alphabet -turned topsy-turvy, I call him, for his name's got all the letters in -it, higgledy-piggledy.' - -'The Russian Prince is a client of yours, is he?' said Steerforth. - -'I believe you, my pet,' replied Miss Mowcher. 'I keep his nails in -order for him. Twice a week! Fingers and toes.' - -'He pays well, I hope?' said Steerforth. - -'Pays, as he speaks, my dear child--through the nose,' replied Miss -Mowcher. 'None of your close shavers the Prince ain't. You'd say so, if -you saw his moustachios. Red by nature, black by art.' - -'By your art, of course,' said Steerforth. - -Miss Mowcher winked assent. 'Forced to send for me. Couldn't help it. -The climate affected his dye; it did very well in Russia, but it was no -go here. You never saw such a rusty Prince in all your born days as he -was. Like old iron!' 'Is that why you called him a humbug, just now?' -inquired Steerforth. - -'Oh, you're a broth of a boy, ain't you?' returned Miss Mowcher, shaking -her head violently. 'I said, what a set of humbugs we were in general, -and I showed you the scraps of the Prince's nails to prove it. The -Prince's nails do more for me in private families of the genteel sort, -than all my talents put together. I always carry 'em about. They're the -best introduction. If Miss Mowcher cuts the Prince's nails, she must be -all right. I give 'em away to the young ladies. They put 'em in albums, -I believe. Ha! ha! ha! Upon my life, "the whole social system" (as -the men call it when they make speeches in Parliament) is a system of -Prince's nails!' said this least of women, trying to fold her short -arms, and nodding her large head. - -Steerforth laughed heartily, and I laughed too. Miss Mowcher continuing -all the time to shake her head (which was very much on one side), and to -look into the air with one eye, and to wink with the other. - -'Well, well!' she said, smiting her small knees, and rising, 'this is -not business. Come, Steerforth, let's explore the polar regions, and -have it over.' - -She then selected two or three of the little instruments, and a -little bottle, and asked (to my surprise) if the table would bear. On -Steerforth's replying in the affirmative, she pushed a chair against it, -and begging the assistance of my hand, mounted up, pretty nimbly, to the -top, as if it were a stage. - -'If either of you saw my ankles,' she said, when she was safely -elevated, 'say so, and I'll go home and destroy myself!' - -'I did not,' said Steerforth. - -'I did not,' said I. - -'Well then,' cried Miss Mowcher, 'I'll consent to live. Now, ducky, -ducky, ducky, come to Mrs. Bond and be killed.' - -This was an invocation to Steerforth to place himself under her hands; -who, accordingly, sat himself down, with his back to the table, and -his laughing face towards me, and submitted his head to her inspection, -evidently for no other purpose than our entertainment. To see Miss -Mowcher standing over him, looking at his rich profusion of brown -hair through a large round magnifying glass, which she took out of her -pocket, was a most amazing spectacle. - -'You're a pretty fellow!' said Miss Mowcher, after a brief inspection. -'You'd be as bald as a friar on the top of your head in twelve months, -but for me. Just half a minute, my young friend, and we'll give you a -polishing that shall keep your curls on for the next ten years!' - -With this, she tilted some of the contents of the little bottle on to -one of the little bits of flannel, and, again imparting some of the -virtues of that preparation to one of the little brushes, began rubbing -and scraping away with both on the crown of Steerforth's head in the -busiest manner I ever witnessed, talking all the time. - -'There's Charley Pyegrave, the duke's son,' she said. 'You know -Charley?' peeping round into his face. - -'A little,' said Steerforth. - -'What a man HE is! THERE'S a whisker! As to Charley's legs, if they -were only a pair (which they ain't), they'd defy competition. Would you -believe he tried to do without me--in the Life-Guards, too?' - -'Mad!' said Steerforth. - -'It looks like it. However, mad or sane, he tried,' returned Miss -Mowcher. 'What does he do, but, lo and behold you, he goes into a -perfumer's shop, and wants to buy a bottle of the Madagascar Liquid.' - -'Charley does?' said Steerforth. - -'Charley does. But they haven't got any of the Madagascar Liquid.' - -'What is it? Something to drink?' asked Steerforth. - -'To drink?' returned Miss Mowcher, stopping to slap his cheek. 'To -doctor his own moustachios with, you know. There was a woman in the -shop--elderly female--quite a Griffin--who had never even heard of it -by name. "Begging pardon, sir," said the Griffin to Charley, "it's -not--not--not ROUGE, is it?" "Rouge," said Charley to the Griffin. "What -the unmentionable to ears polite, do you think I want with rouge?" "No -offence, sir," said the Griffin; "we have it asked for by so many names, -I thought it might be." Now that, my child,' continued Miss Mowcher, -rubbing all the time as busily as ever, 'is another instance of -the refreshing humbug I was speaking of. I do something in that way -myself--perhaps a good deal--perhaps a little--sharp's the word, my dear -boy--never mind!' - -'In what way do you mean? In the rouge way?' said Steerforth. - -'Put this and that together, my tender pupil,' returned the wary -Mowcher, touching her nose, 'work it by the rule of Secrets in all -trades, and the product will give you the desired result. I say I do a -little in that way myself. One Dowager, SHE calls it lip-salve. Another, -SHE calls it gloves. Another, SHE calls it tucker-edging. Another, SHE -calls it a fan. I call it whatever THEY call it. I supply it for 'em, -but we keep up the trick so, to one another, and make believe with -such a face, that they'd as soon think of laying it on, before a whole -drawing-room, as before me. And when I wait upon 'em, they'll say to -me sometimes--WITH IT ON--thick, and no mistake--"How am I looking, -Mowcher? Am I pale?" Ha! ha! ha! ha! Isn't THAT refreshing, my young -friend!' - -I never did in my days behold anything like Mowcher as she stood upon -the dining table, intensely enjoying this refreshment, rubbing busily at -Steerforth's head, and winking at me over it. - -'Ah!' she said. 'Such things are not much in demand hereabouts. That -sets me off again! I haven't seen a pretty woman since I've been here, -jemmy.' - -'No?' said Steerforth. - -'Not the ghost of one,' replied Miss Mowcher. - -'We could show her the substance of one, I think?' said Steerforth, -addressing his eyes to mine. 'Eh, Daisy?' - -'Yes, indeed,' said I. - -'Aha?' cried the little creature, glancing sharply at my face, and then -peeping round at Steerforth's. 'Umph?' - -The first exclamation sounded like a question put to both of us, and the -second like a question put to Steerforth only. She seemed to have found -no answer to either, but continued to rub, with her head on one side and -her eye turned up, as if she were looking for an answer in the air and -were confident of its appearing presently. - -'A sister of yours, Mr. Copperfield?' she cried, after a pause, and -still keeping the same look-out. 'Aye, aye?' - -'No,' said Steerforth, before I could reply. 'Nothing of the sort. On -the contrary, Mr. Copperfield used--or I am much mistaken--to have a -great admiration for her.' - -'Why, hasn't he now?' returned Miss Mowcher. 'Is he fickle? Oh, for -shame! Did he sip every flower, and change every hour, until Polly his -passion requited?--Is her name Polly?' - -The Elfin suddenness with which she pounced upon me with this question, -and a searching look, quite disconcerted me for a moment. - -'No, Miss Mowcher,' I replied. 'Her name is Emily.' - -'Aha?' she cried exactly as before. 'Umph? What a rattle I am! Mr. -Copperfield, ain't I volatile?' - -Her tone and look implied something that was not agreeable to me in -connexion with the subject. So I said, in a graver manner than any of us -had yet assumed: 'She is as virtuous as she is pretty. She is engaged -to be married to a most worthy and deserving man in her own station of -life. I esteem her for her good sense, as much as I admire her for her -good looks.' - -'Well said!' cried Steerforth. 'Hear, hear, hear! Now I'll quench the -curiosity of this little Fatima, my dear Daisy, by leaving her nothing -to guess at. She is at present apprenticed, Miss Mowcher, or articled, -or whatever it may be, to Omer and Joram, Haberdashers, Milliners, and -so forth, in this town. Do you observe? Omer and Joram. The promise of -which my friend has spoken, is made and entered into with her cousin; -Christian name, Ham; surname, Peggotty; occupation, boat-builder; -also of this town. She lives with a relative; Christian name, unknown; -surname, Peggotty; occupation, seafaring; also of this town. She is the -prettiest and most engaging little fairy in the world. I admire her--as -my friend does--exceedingly. If it were not that I might appear to -disparage her Intended, which I know my friend would not like, I would -add, that to me she seems to be throwing herself away; that I am sure -she might do better; and that I swear she was born to be a lady.' - -Miss Mowcher listened to these words, which were very slowly and -distinctly spoken, with her head on one side, and her eye in the air -as if she were still looking for that answer. When he ceased she became -brisk again in an instant, and rattled away with surprising volubility. - -'Oh! And that's all about it, is it?' she exclaimed, trimming his -whiskers with a little restless pair of scissors, that went glancing -round his head in all directions. 'Very well: very well! Quite a long -story. Ought to end "and they lived happy ever afterwards"; oughtn't -it? Ah! What's that game at forfeits? I love my love with an E, because -she's enticing; I hate her with an E, because she's engaged. I took her -to the sign of the exquisite, and treated her with an elopement, her -name's Emily, and she lives in the east? Ha! ha! ha! Mr. Copperfield, -ain't I volatile?' - -Merely looking at me with extravagant slyness, and not waiting for any -reply, she continued, without drawing breath: - -'There! If ever any scapegrace was trimmed and touched up to perfection, -you are, Steerforth. If I understand any noddle in the world, I -understand yours. Do you hear me when I tell you that, my darling? I -understand yours,' peeping down into his face. 'Now you may mizzle, -jemmy (as we say at Court), and if Mr. Copperfield will take the chair -I'll operate on him.' - -'What do you say, Daisy?' inquired Steerforth, laughing, and resigning -his seat. 'Will you be improved?' - -'Thank you, Miss Mowcher, not this evening.' - -'Don't say no,' returned the little woman, looking at me with the aspect -of a connoisseur; 'a little bit more eyebrow?' - -'Thank you,' I returned, 'some other time.' - -'Have it carried half a quarter of an inch towards the temple,' said -Miss Mowcher. 'We can do it in a fortnight.' - -'No, I thank you. Not at present.' - -'Go in for a tip,' she urged. 'No? Let's get the scaffolding up, then, -for a pair of whiskers. Come!' - -I could not help blushing as I declined, for I felt we were on my weak -point, now. But Miss Mowcher, finding that I was not at present disposed -for any decoration within the range of her art, and that I was, for the -time being, proof against the blandishments of the small bottle which -she held up before one eye to enforce her persuasions, said we would -make a beginning on an early day, and requested the aid of my hand to -descend from her elevated station. Thus assisted, she skipped down with -much agility, and began to tie her double chin into her bonnet. - -'The fee,' said Steerforth, 'is--' - -'Five bob,' replied Miss Mowcher, 'and dirt cheap, my chicken. Ain't I -volatile, Mr. Copperfield?' - -I replied politely: 'Not at all.' But I thought she was rather so, when -she tossed up his two half-crowns like a goblin pieman, caught them, -dropped them in her pocket, and gave it a loud slap. - -'That's the Till!' observed Miss Mowcher, standing at the chair again, -and replacing in the bag a miscellaneous collection of little objects -she had emptied out of it. 'Have I got all my traps? It seems so. It -won't do to be like long Ned Beadwood, when they took him to church "to -marry him to somebody", as he says, and left the bride behind. Ha! ha! -ha! A wicked rascal, Ned, but droll! Now, I know I'm going to break -your hearts, but I am forced to leave you. You must call up all your -fortitude, and try to bear it. Good-bye, Mr. Copperfield! Take care of -yourself, jockey of Norfolk! How I have been rattling on! It's all -the fault of you two wretches. I forgive you! "Bob swore!"--as the -Englishman said for "Good night", when he first learnt French, and -thought it so like English. "Bob swore," my ducks!' - -With the bag slung over her arm, and rattling as she waddled away, she -waddled to the door, where she stopped to inquire if she should leave -us a lock of her hair. 'Ain't I volatile?' she added, as a commentary on -this offer, and, with her finger on her nose, departed. - -Steerforth laughed to that degree, that it was impossible for me to help -laughing too; though I am not sure I should have done so, but for this -inducement. When we had had our laugh quite out, which was after some -time, he told me that Miss Mowcher had quite an extensive connexion, and -made herself useful to a variety of people in a variety of ways. Some -people trifled with her as a mere oddity, he said; but she was as -shrewdly and sharply observant as anyone he knew, and as long-headed as -she was short-armed. He told me that what she had said of being here, -and there, and everywhere, was true enough; for she made little darts -into the provinces, and seemed to pick up customers everywhere, and to -know everybody. I asked him what her disposition was: whether it was at -all mischievous, and if her sympathies were generally on the right side -of things: but, not succeeding in attracting his attention to these -questions after two or three attempts, I forbore or forgot to repeat -them. He told me instead, with much rapidity, a good deal about her -skill, and her profits; and about her being a scientific cupper, if I -should ever have occasion for her service in that capacity. - -She was the principal theme of our conversation during the evening: -and when we parted for the night Steerforth called after me over the -banisters, 'Bob swore!' as I went downstairs. - -I was surprised, when I came to Mr. Barkis's house, to find Ham walking -up and down in front of it, and still more surprised to learn from him -that little Em'ly was inside. I naturally inquired why he was not there -too, instead of pacing the streets by himself? - -'Why, you see, Mas'r Davy,' he rejoined, in a hesitating manner, 'Em'ly, -she's talking to some 'un in here.' - -'I should have thought,' said I, smiling, 'that that was a reason for -your being in here too, Ham.' - -'Well, Mas'r Davy, in a general way, so 't would be,' he returned; -'but look'ee here, Mas'r Davy,' lowering his voice, and speaking very -gravely. 'It's a young woman, sir--a young woman, that Em'ly knowed -once, and doen't ought to know no more.' - -When I heard these words, a light began to fall upon the figure I had -seen following them, some hours ago. - -'It's a poor wurem, Mas'r Davy,' said Ham, 'as is trod under foot by all -the town. Up street and down street. The mowld o' the churchyard don't -hold any that the folk shrink away from, more.' - -'Did I see her tonight, Ham, on the sand, after we met you?' - -'Keeping us in sight?' said Ham. 'It's like you did, Mas'r Davy. Not -that I know'd then, she was theer, sir, but along of her creeping soon -arterwards under Em'ly's little winder, when she see the light come, -and whispering "Em'ly, Em'ly, for Christ's sake, have a woman's heart -towards me. I was once like you!" Those was solemn words, Mas'r Davy, -fur to hear!' - -'They were indeed, Ham. What did Em'ly do?' 'Says Em'ly, "Martha, is -it you? Oh, Martha, can it be you?"--for they had sat at work together, -many a day, at Mr. Omer's.' - -'I recollect her now!' cried I, recalling one of the two girls I had -seen when I first went there. 'I recollect her quite well!' - -'Martha Endell,' said Ham. 'Two or three year older than Em'ly, but was -at the school with her.' - -'I never heard her name,' said I. 'I didn't mean to interrupt you.' - -'For the matter o' that, Mas'r Davy,' replied Ham, 'all's told a'most -in them words, "Em'ly, Em'ly, for Christ's sake, have a woman's heart -towards me. I was once like you!" She wanted to speak to Em'ly. Em'ly -couldn't speak to her theer, for her loving uncle was come home, and -he wouldn't--no, Mas'r Davy,' said Ham, with great earnestness, 'he -couldn't, kind-natur'd, tender-hearted as he is, see them two together, -side by side, for all the treasures that's wrecked in the sea.' - -I felt how true this was. I knew it, on the instant, quite as well as -Ham. - -'So Em'ly writes in pencil on a bit of paper,' he pursued, 'and gives it -to her out o' winder to bring here. "Show that," she says, "to my aunt, -Mrs. Barkis, and she'll set you down by her fire, for the love of me, -till uncle is gone out, and I can come." By and by she tells me what -I tell you, Mas'r Davy, and asks me to bring her. What can I do? She -doen't ought to know any such, but I can't deny her, when the tears is -on her face.' - -He put his hand into the breast of his shaggy jacket, and took out with -great care a pretty little purse. - -'And if I could deny her when the tears was on her face, Mas'r Davy,' -said Ham, tenderly adjusting it on the rough palm of his hand, 'how -could I deny her when she give me this to carry for her--knowing what -she brought it for? Such a toy as it is!' said Ham, thoughtfully looking -on it. 'With such a little money in it, Em'ly my dear.' - -I shook him warmly by the hand when he had put it away again--for that -was more satisfactory to me than saying anything--and we walked up -and down, for a minute or two, in silence. The door opened then, and -Peggotty appeared, beckoning to Ham to come in. I would have kept away, -but she came after me, entreating me to come in too. Even then, I -would have avoided the room where they all were, but for its being the -neat-tiled kitchen I have mentioned more than once. The door opening -immediately into it, I found myself among them before I considered -whither I was going. - -The girl--the same I had seen upon the sands--was near the fire. She -was sitting on the ground, with her head and one arm lying on a chair. -I fancied, from the disposition of her figure, that Em'ly had but newly -risen from the chair, and that the forlorn head might perhaps have been -lying on her lap. I saw but little of the girl's face, over which her -hair fell loose and scattered, as if she had been disordering it with -her own hands; but I saw that she was young, and of a fair complexion. -Peggotty had been crying. So had little Em'ly. Not a word was spoken -when we first went in; and the Dutch clock by the dresser seemed, in the -silence, to tick twice as loud as usual. Em'ly spoke first. - -'Martha wants,' she said to Ham, 'to go to London.' - -'Why to London?' returned Ham. - -He stood between them, looking on the prostrate girl with a mixture of -compassion for her, and of jealousy of her holding any companionship -with her whom he loved so well, which I have always remembered -distinctly. They both spoke as if she were ill; in a soft, suppressed -tone that was plainly heard, although it hardly rose above a whisper. - -'Better there than here,' said a third voice aloud--Martha's, though she -did not move. 'No one knows me there. Everybody knows me here.' - -'What will she do there?' inquired Ham. - -She lifted up her head, and looked darkly round at him for a moment; -then laid it down again, and curved her right arm about her neck, as -a woman in a fever, or in an agony of pain from a shot, might twist -herself. - -'She will try to do well,' said little Em'ly. 'You don't know what she -has said to us. Does he--do they--aunt?' - -Peggotty shook her head compassionately. - -'I'll try,' said Martha, 'if you'll help me away. I never can do worse -than I have done here. I may do better. Oh!' with a dreadful shiver, -'take me out of these streets, where the whole town knows me from a -child!' - -As Em'ly held out her hand to Ham, I saw him put in it a little canvas -bag. She took it, as if she thought it were her purse, and made a step -or two forward; but finding her mistake, came back to where he had -retired near me, and showed it to him. - -'It's all yourn, Em'ly,' I could hear him say. 'I haven't nowt in all -the wureld that ain't yourn, my dear. It ain't of no delight to me, -except for you!' - -The tears rose freshly in her eyes, but she turned away and went to -Martha. What she gave her, I don't know. I saw her stooping over her, -and putting money in her bosom. She whispered something, as she asked -was that enough? 'More than enough,' the other said, and took her hand -and kissed it. - -Then Martha arose, and gathering her shawl about her, covering her -face with it, and weeping aloud, went slowly to the door. She stopped -a moment before going out, as if she would have uttered something or -turned back; but no word passed her lips. Making the same low, dreary, -wretched moaning in her shawl, she went away. - -As the door closed, little Em'ly looked at us three in a hurried manner -and then hid her face in her hands, and fell to sobbing. - -'Doen't, Em'ly!' said Ham, tapping her gently on the shoulder. 'Doen't, -my dear! You doen't ought to cry so, pretty!' - -'Oh, Ham!' she exclaimed, still weeping pitifully, 'I am not so good a -girl as I ought to be! I know I have not the thankful heart, sometimes, -I ought to have!' - -'Yes, yes, you have, I'm sure,' said Ham. - -'No! no! no!' cried little Em'ly, sobbing, and shaking her head. 'I am -not as good a girl as I ought to be. Not near! not near!' And still she -cried, as if her heart would break. - -'I try your love too much. I know I do!' she sobbed. 'I'm often cross to -you, and changeable with you, when I ought to be far different. You are -never so to me. Why am I ever so to you, when I should think of nothing -but how to be grateful, and to make you happy!' - -'You always make me so,' said Ham, 'my dear! I am happy in the sight of -you. I am happy, all day long, in the thoughts of you.' - -'Ah! that's not enough!' she cried. 'That is because you are good; not -because I am! Oh, my dear, it might have been a better fortune for -you, if you had been fond of someone else--of someone steadier and -much worthier than me, who was all bound up in you, and never vain and -changeable like me!' - -'Poor little tender-heart,' said Ham, in a low voice. 'Martha has -overset her, altogether.' - -'Please, aunt,' sobbed Em'ly, 'come here, and let me lay my head upon -you. Oh, I am very miserable tonight, aunt! Oh, I am not as good a girl -as I ought to be. I am not, I know!' - -Peggotty had hastened to the chair before the fire. Em'ly, with her -arms around her neck, kneeled by her, looking up most earnestly into her -face. - -'Oh, pray, aunt, try to help me! Ham, dear, try to help me! Mr. David, -for the sake of old times, do, please, try to help me! I want to be a -better girl than I am. I want to feel a hundred times more thankful than -I do. I want to feel more, what a blessed thing it is to be the wife of -a good man, and to lead a peaceful life. Oh me, oh me! Oh my heart, my -heart!' - -She dropped her face on my old nurse's breast, and, ceasing this -supplication, which in its agony and grief was half a woman's, half a -child's, as all her manner was (being, in that, more natural, and better -suited to her beauty, as I thought, than any other manner could have -been), wept silently, while my old nurse hushed her like an infant. - -She got calmer by degrees, and then we soothed her; now talking -encouragingly, and now jesting a little with her, until she began to -raise her head and speak to us. So we got on, until she was able to -smile, and then to laugh, and then to sit up, half ashamed; while -Peggotty recalled her stray ringlets, dried her eyes, and made her neat -again, lest her uncle should wonder, when she got home, why his darling -had been crying. - -I saw her do, that night, what I had never seen her do before. I saw her -innocently kiss her chosen husband on the cheek, and creep close to his -bluff form as if it were her best support. When they went away together, -in the waning moonlight, and I looked after them, comparing their -departure in my mind with Martha's, I saw that she held his arm with -both her hands, and still kept close to him. - - - -CHAPTER 23. I CORROBORATE Mr. DICK, AND CHOOSE A PROFESSION - - -When I awoke in the morning I thought very much of little Em'ly, and her -emotion last night, after Martha had left. I felt as if I had come into -the knowledge of those domestic weaknesses and tendernesses in a sacred -confidence, and that to disclose them, even to Steerforth, would be -wrong. I had no gentler feeling towards anyone than towards the -pretty creature who had been my playmate, and whom I have always been -persuaded, and shall always be persuaded, to my dying day, I then -devotedly loved. The repetition to any ears--even to Steerforth's--of -what she had been unable to repress when her heart lay open to me by an -accident, I felt would be a rough deed, unworthy of myself, unworthy of -the light of our pure childhood, which I always saw encircling her head. -I made a resolution, therefore, to keep it in my own breast; and there -it gave her image a new grace. - -While we were at breakfast, a letter was delivered to me from my aunt. -As it contained matter on which I thought Steerforth could advise me -as well as anyone, and on which I knew I should be delighted to consult -him, I resolved to make it a subject of discussion on our journey home. -For the present we had enough to do, in taking leave of all our friends. -Mr. Barkis was far from being the last among them, in his regret at -our departure; and I believe would even have opened the box again, and -sacrificed another guinea, if it would have kept us eight-and-forty -hours in Yarmouth. Peggotty and all her family were full of grief at our -going. The whole house of Omer and Joram turned out to bid us good-bye; -and there were so many seafaring volunteers in attendance on Steerforth, -when our portmanteaux went to the coach, that if we had had the baggage -of a regiment with us, we should hardly have wanted porters to carry it. -In a word, we departed to the regret and admiration of all concerned, -and left a great many people very sorry behind US. - -'Do you stay long here, Littimer?' said I, as he stood waiting to see the -coach start. - -'No, sir,' he replied; 'probably not very long, sir.' - -'He can hardly say, just now,' observed Steerforth, carelessly. 'He -knows what he has to do, and he'll do it.' - -'That I am sure he will,' said I. - -Littimer touched his hat in acknowledgement of my good opinion, and I -felt about eight years old. He touched it once more, wishing us a good -journey; and we left him standing on the pavement, as respectable a -mystery as any pyramid in Egypt. - -For some little time we held no conversation, Steerforth being unusually -silent, and I being sufficiently engaged in wondering, within myself, -when I should see the old places again, and what new changes might -happen to me or them in the meanwhile. At length Steerforth, becoming -gay and talkative in a moment, as he could become anything he liked at -any moment, pulled me by the arm: - -'Find a voice, David. What about that letter you were speaking of at -breakfast?' - -'Oh!' said I, taking it out of my pocket. 'It's from my aunt.' - -'And what does she say, requiring consideration?' - -'Why, she reminds me, Steerforth,' said I, 'that I came out on this -expedition to look about me, and to think a little.' - -'Which, of course, you have done?' - -'Indeed I can't say I have, particularly. To tell you the truth, I am -afraid I have forgotten it.' - -'Well! look about you now, and make up for your negligence,' said -Steerforth. 'Look to the right, and you'll see a flat country, with a -good deal of marsh in it; look to the left, and you'll see the same. -Look to the front, and you'll find no difference; look to the rear, -and there it is still.' I laughed, and replied that I saw no suitable -profession in the whole prospect; which was perhaps to be attributed to -its flatness. - -'What says our aunt on the subject?' inquired Steerforth, glancing at -the letter in my hand. 'Does she suggest anything?' - -'Why, yes,' said I. 'She asks me, here, if I think I should like to be a -proctor? What do you think of it?' - -'Well, I don't know,' replied Steerforth, coolly. 'You may as well do -that as anything else, I suppose?' - -I could not help laughing again, at his balancing all callings and -professions so equally; and I told him so. - -'What is a proctor, Steerforth?' said I. - -'Why, he is a sort of monkish attorney,' replied Steerforth. 'He is, to -some faded courts held in Doctors' Commons,--a lazy old nook near St. -Paul's Churchyard--what solicitors are to the courts of law and equity. -He is a functionary whose existence, in the natural course of things, -would have terminated about two hundred years ago. I can tell you best -what he is, by telling you what Doctors' Commons is. It's a -little out-of-the-way place, where they administer what is called -ecclesiastical law, and play all kinds of tricks with obsolete old -monsters of acts of Parliament, which three-fourths of the world know -nothing about, and the other fourth supposes to have been dug up, in -a fossil state, in the days of the Edwards. It's a place that has an -ancient monopoly in suits about people's wills and people's marriages, -and disputes among ships and boats.' - -'Nonsense, Steerforth!' I exclaimed. 'You don't mean to say that there -is any affinity between nautical matters and ecclesiastical matters?' - -'I don't, indeed, my dear boy,' he returned; 'but I mean to say that -they are managed and decided by the same set of people, down in that -same Doctors' Commons. You shall go there one day, and find them -blundering through half the nautical terms in Young's Dictionary, -apropos of the "Nancy" having run down the "Sarah Jane", or Mr. Peggotty -and the Yarmouth boatmen having put off in a gale of wind with an anchor -and cable to the "Nelson" Indiaman in distress; and you shall go there -another day, and find them deep in the evidence, pro and con, respecting -a clergyman who has misbehaved himself; and you shall find the judge -in the nautical case, the advocate in the clergyman's case, or -contrariwise. They are like actors: now a man's a judge, and now he is -not a judge; now he's one thing, now he's another; now he's something -else, change and change about; but it's always a very pleasant, -profitable little affair of private theatricals, presented to an -uncommonly select audience.' - -'But advocates and proctors are not one and the same?' said I, a little -puzzled. 'Are they?' - -'No,' returned Steerforth, 'the advocates are civilians--men who have -taken a doctor's degree at college--which is the first reason of my -knowing anything about it. The proctors employ the advocates. Both get -very comfortable fees, and altogether they make a mighty snug little -party. On the whole, I would recommend you to take to Doctors' Commons -kindly, David. They plume them-selves on their gentility there, I can -tell you, if that's any satisfaction.' - -I made allowance for Steerforth's light way of treating the subject, -and, considering it with reference to the staid air of gravity and -antiquity which I associated with that 'lazy old nook near St. Paul's -Churchyard', did not feel indisposed towards my aunt's suggestion; which -she left to my free decision, making no scruple of telling me that it -had occurred to her, on her lately visiting her own proctor in Doctors' -Commons for the purpose of settling her will in my favour. - -'That's a laudable proceeding on the part of our aunt, at all events,' -said Steerforth, when I mentioned it; 'and one deserving of all -encouragement. Daisy, my advice is that you take kindly to Doctors' -Commons.' - -I quite made up my mind to do so. I then told Steerforth that my aunt -was in town awaiting me (as I found from her letter), and that she had -taken lodgings for a week at a kind of private hotel at Lincoln's Inn -Fields, where there was a stone staircase, and a convenient door in -the roof; my aunt being firmly persuaded that every house in London was -going to be burnt down every night. - -We achieved the rest of our journey pleasantly, sometimes recurring to -Doctors' Commons, and anticipating the distant days when I should be a -proctor there, which Steerforth pictured in a variety of humorous and -whimsical lights, that made us both merry. When we came to our journey's -end, he went home, engaging to call upon me next day but one; and I -drove to Lincoln's Inn Fields, where I found my aunt up, and waiting -supper. - -If I had been round the world since we parted, we could hardly have been -better pleased to meet again. My aunt cried outright as she embraced me; -and said, pretending to laugh, that if my poor mother had been alive, -that silly little creature would have shed tears, she had no doubt. - -'So you have left Mr. Dick behind, aunt?' said I. 'I am sorry for that. -Ah, Janet, how do you do?' - -As Janet curtsied, hoping I was well, I observed my aunt's visage -lengthen very much. - -'I am sorry for it, too,' said my aunt, rubbing her nose. 'I have had -no peace of mind, Trot, since I have been here.' Before I could ask why, -she told me. - -'I am convinced,' said my aunt, laying her hand with melancholy firmness -on the table, 'that Dick's character is not a character to keep the -donkeys off. I am confident he wants strength of purpose. I ought to -have left Janet at home, instead, and then my mind might perhaps have -been at ease. If ever there was a donkey trespassing on my green,' said -my aunt, with emphasis, 'there was one this afternoon at four o'clock. -A cold feeling came over me from head to foot, and I know it was a -donkey!' - -I tried to comfort her on this point, but she rejected consolation. - -'It was a donkey,' said my aunt; 'and it was the one with the stumpy -tail which that Murdering sister of a woman rode, when she came to my -house.' This had been, ever since, the only name my aunt knew for Miss -Murdstone. 'If there is any Donkey in Dover, whose audacity it is harder -to me to bear than another's, that,' said my aunt, striking the table, -'is the animal!' - -Janet ventured to suggest that my aunt might be disturbing herself -unnecessarily, and that she believed the donkey in question was then -engaged in the sand-and-gravel line of business, and was not available -for purposes of trespass. But my aunt wouldn't hear of it. - -Supper was comfortably served and hot, though my aunt's rooms were very -high up--whether that she might have more stone stairs for her money, or -might be nearer to the door in the roof, I don't know--and consisted of -a roast fowl, a steak, and some vegetables, to all of which I did ample -justice, and which were all excellent. But my aunt had her own ideas -concerning London provision, and ate but little. - -'I suppose this unfortunate fowl was born and brought up in a cellar,' -said my aunt, 'and never took the air except on a hackney coach-stand. I -hope the steak may be beef, but I don't believe it. Nothing's genuine in -the place, in my opinion, but the dirt.' - -'Don't you think the fowl may have come out of the country, aunt?' I -hinted. - -'Certainly not,' returned my aunt. 'It would be no pleasure to a London -tradesman to sell anything which was what he pretended it was.' - -I did not venture to controvert this opinion, but I made a good supper, -which it greatly satisfied her to see me do. When the table was cleared, -Janet assisted her to arrange her hair, to put on her nightcap, which -was of a smarter construction than usual ('in case of fire', my aunt -said), and to fold her gown back over her knees, these being her usual -preparations for warming herself before going to bed. I then made her, -according to certain established regulations from which no deviation, -however slight, could ever be permitted, a glass of hot wine and -water, and a slice of toast cut into long thin strips. With these -accompaniments we were left alone to finish the evening, my aunt sitting -opposite to me drinking her wine and water; soaking her strips of toast -in it, one by one, before eating them; and looking benignantly on me, -from among the borders of her nightcap. - -'Well, Trot,' she began, 'what do you think of the proctor plan? Or have -you not begun to think about it yet?' - -'I have thought a good deal about it, my dear aunt, and I have talked a -good deal about it with Steerforth. I like it very much indeed. I like -it exceedingly.' - -'Come!' said my aunt. 'That's cheering!' - -'I have only one difficulty, aunt.' - -'Say what it is, Trot,' she returned. - -'Why, I want to ask, aunt, as this seems, from what I understand, to -be a limited profession, whether my entrance into it would not be very -expensive?' - -'It will cost,' returned my aunt, 'to article you, just a thousand -pounds.' - -'Now, my dear aunt,' said I, drawing my chair nearer, 'I am uneasy in -my mind about that. It's a large sum of money. You have expended a -great deal on my education, and have always been as liberal to me in all -things as it was possible to be. You have been the soul of generosity. -Surely there are some ways in which I might begin life with hardly any -outlay, and yet begin with a good hope of getting on by resolution and -exertion. Are you sure that it would not be better to try that course? -Are you certain that you can afford to part with so much money, and that -it is right that it should be so expended? I only ask you, my second -mother, to consider. Are you certain?' - -My aunt finished eating the piece of toast on which she was then -engaged, looking me full in the face all the while; and then setting -her glass on the chimney-piece, and folding her hands upon her folded -skirts, replied as follows: - -'Trot, my child, if I have any object in life, it is to provide for -your being a good, a sensible, and a happy man. I am bent upon it--so is -Dick. I should like some people that I know to hear Dick's conversation -on the subject. Its sagacity is wonderful. But no one knows the -resources of that man's intellect, except myself!' - -She stopped for a moment to take my hand between hers, and went on: - -'It's in vain, Trot, to recall the past, unless it works some influence -upon the present. Perhaps I might have been better friends with your -poor father. Perhaps I might have been better friends with that poor -child your mother, even after your sister Betsey Trotwood disappointed -me. When you came to me, a little runaway boy, all dusty and way-worn, -perhaps I thought so. From that time until now, Trot, you have ever been -a credit to me and a pride and a pleasure. I have no other claim upon -my means; at least'--here to my surprise she hesitated, and was -confused--'no, I have no other claim upon my means--and you are my -adopted child. Only be a loving child to me in my age, and bear with my -whims and fancies; and you will do more for an old woman whose prime of -life was not so happy or conciliating as it might have been, than ever -that old woman did for you.' - -It was the first time I had heard my aunt refer to her past history. -There was a magnanimity in her quiet way of doing so, and of dismissing -it, which would have exalted her in my respect and affection, if -anything could. - -'All is agreed and understood between us, now, Trot,' said my aunt, -'and we need talk of this no more. Give me a kiss, and we'll go to the -Commons after breakfast tomorrow.' - -We had a long chat by the fire before we went to bed. I slept in a room -on the same floor with my aunt's, and was a little disturbed in the -course of the night by her knocking at my door as often as she was -agitated by a distant sound of hackney-coaches or market-carts, and -inquiring, 'if I heard the engines?' But towards morning she slept -better, and suffered me to do so too. - -At about mid-day, we set out for the office of Messrs Spenlow and -Jorkins, in Doctors' Commons. My aunt, who had this other general -opinion in reference to London, that every man she saw was a pickpocket, -gave me her purse to carry for her, which had ten guineas in it and some -silver. - -We made a pause at the toy shop in Fleet Street, to see the giants of -Saint Dunstan's strike upon the bells--we had timed our going, so as to -catch them at it, at twelve o'clock--and then went on towards Ludgate -Hill, and St. Paul's Churchyard. We were crossing to the former place, -when I found that my aunt greatly accelerated her speed, and looked -frightened. I observed, at the same time, that a lowering ill-dressed -man who had stopped and stared at us in passing, a little before, was -coming so close after us as to brush against her. - -'Trot! My dear Trot!' cried my aunt, in a terrified whisper, and -pressing my arm. 'I don't know what I am to do.' - -'Don't be alarmed,' said I. 'There's nothing to be afraid of. Step into -a shop, and I'll soon get rid of this fellow.' - -'No, no, child!' she returned. 'Don't speak to him for the world. I -entreat, I order you!' - -'Good Heaven, aunt!' said I. 'He is nothing but a sturdy beggar.' - -'You don't know what he is!' replied my aunt. 'You don't know who he is! -You don't know what you say!' - -We had stopped in an empty door-way, while this was passing, and he had -stopped too. - -'Don't look at him!' said my aunt, as I turned my head indignantly, 'but -get me a coach, my dear, and wait for me in St. Paul's Churchyard.' - -'Wait for you?' I replied. - -'Yes,' rejoined my aunt. 'I must go alone. I must go with him.' - -'With him, aunt? This man?' - -'I am in my senses,' she replied, 'and I tell you I must. Get me a -coach!' - -However much astonished I might be, I was sensible that I had no right -to refuse compliance with such a peremptory command. I hurried away a -few paces, and called a hackney-chariot which was passing empty. Almost -before I could let down the steps, my aunt sprang in, I don't know how, -and the man followed. She waved her hand to me to go away, so earnestly, -that, all confounded as I was, I turned from them at once. In doing so, -I heard her say to the coachman, 'Drive anywhere! Drive straight on!' -and presently the chariot passed me, going up the hill. - -What Mr. Dick had told me, and what I had supposed to be a delusion of -his, now came into my mind. I could not doubt that this person was the -person of whom he had made such mysterious mention, though what the -nature of his hold upon my aunt could possibly be, I was quite unable -to imagine. After half an hour's cooling in the churchyard, I saw the -chariot coming back. The driver stopped beside me, and my aunt was -sitting in it alone. - -She had not yet sufficiently recovered from her agitation to be quite -prepared for the visit we had to make. She desired me to get into the -chariot, and to tell the coachman to drive slowly up and down a little -while. She said no more, except, 'My dear child, never ask me what -it was, and don't refer to it,' until she had perfectly regained her -composure, when she told me she was quite herself now, and we might get -out. On her giving me her purse to pay the driver, I found that all the -guineas were gone, and only the loose silver remained. - -Doctors' Commons was approached by a little low archway. Before we had -taken many paces down the street beyond it, the noise of the city seemed -to melt, as if by magic, into a softened distance. A few dull courts -and narrow ways brought us to the sky-lighted offices of Spenlow and -Jorkins; in the vestibule of which temple, accessible to pilgrims -without the ceremony of knocking, three or four clerks were at work as -copyists. One of these, a little dry man, sitting by himself, who wore -a stiff brown wig that looked as if it were made of gingerbread, rose to -receive my aunt, and show us into Mr. Spenlow's room. - -'Mr. Spenlow's in Court, ma'am,' said the dry man; 'it's an Arches day; -but it's close by, and I'll send for him directly.' - -As we were left to look about us while Mr. Spenlow was fetched, I -availed myself of the opportunity. The furniture of the room was -old-fashioned and dusty; and the green baize on the top of the -writing-table had lost all its colour, and was as withered and pale as -an old pauper. There were a great many bundles of papers on it, some -endorsed as Allegations, and some (to my surprise) as Libels, and some -as being in the Consistory Court, and some in the Arches Court, and some -in the Prerogative Court, and some in the Admiralty Court, and some in -the Delegates' Court; giving me occasion to wonder much, how many Courts -there might be in the gross, and how long it would take to understand -them all. Besides these, there were sundry immense manuscript Books -of Evidence taken on affidavit, strongly bound, and tied together in -massive sets, a set to each cause, as if every cause were a history in -ten or twenty volumes. All this looked tolerably expensive, I thought, -and gave me an agreeable notion of a proctor's business. I was casting -my eyes with increasing complacency over these and many similar objects, -when hasty footsteps were heard in the room outside, and Mr. Spenlow, -in a black gown trimmed with white fur, came hurrying in, taking off his -hat as he came. - -He was a little light-haired gentleman, with undeniable boots, and the -stiffest of white cravats and shirt-collars. He was buttoned up, mighty -trim and tight, and must have taken a great deal of pains with his -whiskers, which were accurately curled. His gold watch-chain was so -massive, that a fancy came across me, that he ought to have a sinewy -golden arm, to draw it out with, like those which are put up over the -goldbeaters' shops. He was got up with such care, and was so stiff, that -he could hardly bend himself; being obliged, when he glanced at some -papers on his desk, after sitting down in his chair, to move his whole -body, from the bottom of his spine, like Punch. - -I had previously been presented by my aunt, and had been courteously -received. He now said: - -'And so, Mr. Copperfield, you think of entering into our profession? -I casually mentioned to Miss Trotwood, when I had the pleasure of an -interview with her the other day,'--with another inclination of his -body--Punch again--'that there was a vacancy here. Miss Trotwood was -good enough to mention that she had a nephew who was her peculiar care, -and for whom she was seeking to provide genteelly in life. That -nephew, I believe, I have now the pleasure of'--Punch again. I bowed my -acknowledgements, and said, my aunt had mentioned to me that there was -that opening, and that I believed I should like it very much. That I was -strongly inclined to like it, and had taken immediately to the proposal. -That I could not absolutely pledge myself to like it, until I knew -something more about it. That although it was little else than a matter -of form, I presumed I should have an opportunity of trying how I liked -it, before I bound myself to it irrevocably. - -'Oh surely! surely!' said Mr. Spenlow. 'We always, in this house, -propose a month--an initiatory month. I should be happy, myself, to -propose two months--three--an indefinite period, in fact--but I have a -partner. Mr. Jorkins.' - -'And the premium, sir,' I returned, 'is a thousand pounds?' - -'And the premium, Stamp included, is a thousand pounds,' said Mr. -Spenlow. 'As I have mentioned to Miss Trotwood, I am actuated by no -mercenary considerations; few men are less so, I believe; but Mr. -Jorkins has his opinions on these subjects, and I am bound to respect -Mr. Jorkins's opinions. Mr. Jorkins thinks a thousand pounds too little, -in short.' - -'I suppose, sir,' said I, still desiring to spare my aunt, 'that it is -not the custom here, if an articled clerk were particularly useful, -and made himself a perfect master of his profession'--I could not help -blushing, this looked so like praising myself--'I suppose it is not the -custom, in the later years of his time, to allow him any--' - -Mr. Spenlow, by a great effort, just lifted his head far enough out of -his cravat to shake it, and answered, anticipating the word 'salary': - -'No. I will not say what consideration I might give to that point -myself, Mr. Copperfield, if I were unfettered. Mr. Jorkins is -immovable.' - -I was quite dismayed by the idea of this terrible Jorkins. But I found -out afterwards that he was a mild man of a heavy temperament, whose -place in the business was to keep himself in the background, and be -constantly exhibited by name as the most obdurate and ruthless of men. -If a clerk wanted his salary raised, Mr. Jorkins wouldn't listen to such -a proposition. If a client were slow to settle his bill of costs, Mr. -Jorkins was resolved to have it paid; and however painful these things -might be (and always were) to the feelings of Mr. Spenlow, Mr. Jorkins -would have his bond. The heart and hand of the good angel Spenlow would -have been always open, but for the restraining demon Jorkins. As I have -grown older, I think I have had experience of some other houses doing -business on the principle of Spenlow and Jorkins! - -It was settled that I should begin my month's probation as soon as I -pleased, and that my aunt need neither remain in town nor return at -its expiration, as the articles of agreement, of which I was to be the -subject, could easily be sent to her at home for her signature. When -we had got so far, Mr. Spenlow offered to take me into Court then and -there, and show me what sort of place it was. As I was willing enough -to know, we went out with this object, leaving my aunt behind; who would -trust herself, she said, in no such place, and who, I think, regarded -all Courts of Law as a sort of powder-mills that might blow up at any -time. - -Mr. Spenlow conducted me through a paved courtyard formed of grave brick -houses, which I inferred, from the Doctors' names upon the doors, to be -the official abiding-places of the learned advocates of whom Steerforth -had told me; and into a large dull room, not unlike a chapel to my -thinking, on the left hand. The upper part of this room was fenced off -from the rest; and there, on the two sides of a raised platform of the -horse-shoe form, sitting on easy old-fashioned dining-room chairs, were -sundry gentlemen in red gowns and grey wigs, whom I found to be the -Doctors aforesaid. Blinking over a little desk like a pulpit-desk, in -the curve of the horse-shoe, was an old gentleman, whom, if I had seen -him in an aviary, I should certainly have taken for an owl, but who, I -learned, was the presiding judge. In the space within the horse-shoe, -lower than these, that is to say, on about the level of the floor, were -sundry other gentlemen, of Mr. Spenlow's rank, and dressed like him in -black gowns with white fur upon them, sitting at a long green table. -Their cravats were in general stiff, I thought, and their looks haughty; -but in this last respect I presently conceived I had done them an -injustice, for when two or three of them had to rise and answer a -question of the presiding dignitary, I never saw anything more sheepish. -The public, represented by a boy with a comforter, and a shabby-genteel -man secretly eating crumbs out of his coat pockets, was warming itself -at a stove in the centre of the Court. The languid stillness of the -place was only broken by the chirping of this fire and by the voice of -one of the Doctors, who was wandering slowly through a perfect library -of evidence, and stopping to put up, from time to time, at little -roadside inns of argument on the journey. Altogether, I have never, -on any occasion, made one at such a cosey, dosey, old-fashioned, -time-forgotten, sleepy-headed little family-party in all my life; and -I felt it would be quite a soothing opiate to belong to it in any -character--except perhaps as a suitor. - -Very well satisfied with the dreamy nature of this retreat, I informed -Mr. Spenlow that I had seen enough for that time, and we rejoined -my aunt; in company with whom I presently departed from the Commons, -feeling very young when I went out of Spenlow and Jorkins's, on account -of the clerks poking one another with their pens to point me out. - -We arrived at Lincoln's Inn Fields without any new adventures, except -encountering an unlucky donkey in a costermonger's cart, who suggested -painful associations to my aunt. We had another long talk about my -plans, when we were safely housed; and as I knew she was anxious to -get home, and, between fire, food, and pickpockets, could never be -considered at her ease for half-an-hour in London, I urged her not to be -uncomfortable on my account, but to leave me to take care of myself. - -'I have not been here a week tomorrow, without considering that too, my -dear,' she returned. 'There is a furnished little set of chambers to be -let in the Adelphi, Trot, which ought to suit you to a marvel.' - -With this brief introduction, she produced from her pocket an -advertisement, carefully cut out of a newspaper, setting forth that in -Buckingham Street in the Adelphi there was to be let furnished, with a -view of the river, a singularly desirable, and compact set of chambers, -forming a genteel residence for a young gentleman, a member of one -of the Inns of Court, or otherwise, with immediate possession. Terms -moderate, and could be taken for a month only, if required. - -'Why, this is the very thing, aunt!' said I, flushed with the possible -dignity of living in chambers. - -'Then come,' replied my aunt, immediately resuming the bonnet she had a -minute before laid aside. 'We'll go and look at 'em.' - -Away we went. The advertisement directed us to apply to Mrs. Crupp -on the premises, and we rung the area bell, which we supposed to -communicate with Mrs. Crupp. It was not until we had rung three or four -times that we could prevail on Mrs. Crupp to communicate with us, but -at last she appeared, being a stout lady with a flounce of flannel -petticoat below a nankeen gown. - -'Let us see these chambers of yours, if you please, ma'am,' said my -aunt. - -'For this gentleman?' said Mrs. Crupp, feeling in her pocket for her -keys. - -'Yes, for my nephew,' said my aunt. - -'And a sweet set they is for sich!' said Mrs. Crupp. - -So we went upstairs. - -They were on the top of the house--a great point with my aunt, being -near the fire-escape--and consisted of a little half-blind entry where -you could see hardly anything, a little stone-blind pantry where you -could see nothing at all, a sitting-room, and a bedroom. The furniture -was rather faded, but quite good enough for me; and, sure enough, the -river was outside the windows. - -As I was delighted with the place, my aunt and Mrs. Crupp withdrew into -the pantry to discuss the terms, while I remained on the sitting-room -sofa, hardly daring to think it possible that I could be destined to -live in such a noble residence. After a single combat of some duration -they returned, and I saw, to my joy, both in Mrs. Crupp's countenance -and in my aunt's, that the deed was done. - -'Is it the last occupant's furniture?' inquired my aunt. - -'Yes, it is, ma'am,' said Mrs. Crupp. - -'What's become of him?' asked my aunt. - -Mrs. Crupp was taken with a troublesome cough, in the midst of which -she articulated with much difficulty. 'He was took ill here, ma'am, -and--ugh! ugh! ugh! dear me!--and he died!' - -'Hey! What did he die of?' asked my aunt. - -'Well, ma'am, he died of drink,' said Mrs. Crupp, in confidence. 'And -smoke.' - -'Smoke? You don't mean chimneys?' said my aunt. - -'No, ma'am,' returned Mrs. Crupp. 'Cigars and pipes.' - -'That's not catching, Trot, at any rate,' remarked my aunt, turning to -me. - -'No, indeed,' said I. - -In short, my aunt, seeing how enraptured I was with the premises, took -them for a month, with leave to remain for twelve months when that -time was out. Mrs. Crupp was to find linen, and to cook; every other -necessary was already provided; and Mrs. Crupp expressly intimated that -she should always yearn towards me as a son. I was to take possession -the day after tomorrow, and Mrs. Crupp said, thank Heaven she had now -found summun she could care for! - -On our way back, my aunt informed me how she confidently trusted that -the life I was now to lead would make me firm and self-reliant, which -was all I wanted. She repeated this several times next day, in the -intervals of our arranging for the transmission of my clothes and books -from Mr. Wickfield's; relative to which, and to all my late holiday, I -wrote a long letter to Agnes, of which my aunt took charge, as she was -to leave on the succeeding day. Not to lengthen these particulars, I -need only add, that she made a handsome provision for all my -possible wants during my month of trial; that Steerforth, to my great -disappointment and hers too, did not make his appearance before she went -away; that I saw her safely seated in the Dover coach, exulting in the -coming discomfiture of the vagrant donkeys, with Janet at her side; and -that when the coach was gone, I turned my face to the Adelphi, pondering -on the old days when I used to roam about its subterranean arches, and -on the happy changes which had brought me to the surface. - - - -CHAPTER 24. MY FIRST DISSIPATION - - -It was a wonderfully fine thing to have that lofty castle to myself, and -to feel, when I shut my outer door, like Robinson Crusoe, when he had -got into his fortification, and pulled his ladder up after him. It was a -wonderfully fine thing to walk about town with the key of my house in my -pocket, and to know that I could ask any fellow to come home, and make -quite sure of its being inconvenient to nobody, if it were not so to me. -It was a wonderfully fine thing to let myself in and out, and to come -and go without a word to anyone, and to ring Mrs. Crupp up, gasping, -from the depths of the earth, when I wanted her--and when she was -disposed to come. All this, I say, was wonderfully fine; but I must say, -too, that there were times when it was very dreary. - -It was fine in the morning, particularly in the fine mornings. It looked -a very fresh, free life, by daylight: still fresher, and more free, by -sunlight. But as the day declined, the life seemed to go down too. I -don't know how it was; it seldom looked well by candle-light. I wanted -somebody to talk to, then. I missed Agnes. I found a tremendous blank, -in the place of that smiling repository of my confidence. Mrs. Crupp -appeared to be a long way off. I thought about my predecessor, who had -died of drink and smoke; and I could have wished he had been so good as -to live, and not bother me with his decease. - -After two days and nights, I felt as if I had lived there for a year, -and yet I was not an hour older, but was quite as much tormented by my -own youthfulness as ever. - -Steerforth not yet appearing, which induced me to apprehend that he must -be ill, I left the Commons early on the third day, and walked out to -Highgate. Mrs. Steerforth was very glad to see me, and said that he had -gone away with one of his Oxford friends to see another who lived near -St. Albans, but that she expected him to return tomorrow. I was so fond -of him, that I felt quite jealous of his Oxford friends. - -As she pressed me to stay to dinner, I remained, and I believe we talked -about nothing but him all day. I told her how much the people liked him -at Yarmouth, and what a delightful companion he had been. Miss Dartle -was full of hints and mysterious questions, but took a great interest -in all our proceedings there, and said, 'Was it really though?' and so -forth, so often, that she got everything out of me she wanted to know. -Her appearance was exactly what I have described it, when I first saw -her; but the society of the two ladies was so agreeable, and came so -natural to me, that I felt myself falling a little in love with her. I -could not help thinking, several times in the course of the evening, and -particularly when I walked home at night, what delightful company she -would be in Buckingham Street. - -I was taking my coffee and roll in the morning, before going to the -Commons--and I may observe in this place that it is surprising how -much coffee Mrs. Crupp used, and how weak it was, considering--when -Steerforth himself walked in, to my unbounded joy. - -'My dear Steerforth,' cried I, 'I began to think I should never see you -again!' - -'I was carried off, by force of arms,' said Steerforth, 'the very next -morning after I got home. Why, Daisy, what a rare old bachelor you are -here!' - -I showed him over the establishment, not omitting the pantry, with no -little pride, and he commended it highly. 'I tell you what, old boy,' he -added, 'I shall make quite a town-house of this place, unless you give -me notice to quit.' - -This was a delightful hearing. I told him if he waited for that, he -would have to wait till doomsday. - -'But you shall have some breakfast!' said I, with my hand on the -bell-rope, 'and Mrs. Crupp shall make you some fresh coffee, and I'll -toast you some bacon in a bachelor's Dutch-oven, that I have got here.' - -'No, no!' said Steerforth. 'Don't ring! I can't! I am going to breakfast -with one of these fellows who is at the Piazza Hotel, in Covent Garden.' - -'But you'll come back to dinner?' said I. - -'I can't, upon my life. There's nothing I should like better, but I must -remain with these two fellows. We are all three off together tomorrow -morning.' - -'Then bring them here to dinner,' I returned. 'Do you think they would -come?' - -'Oh! they would come fast enough,' said Steerforth; 'but we should -inconvenience you. You had better come and dine with us somewhere.' - -I would not by any means consent to this, for it occurred to me that I -really ought to have a little house-warming, and that there never -could be a better opportunity. I had a new pride in my rooms after -his approval of them, and burned with a desire to develop their utmost -resources. I therefore made him promise positively in the names of his -two friends, and we appointed six o'clock as the dinner-hour. - -When he was gone, I rang for Mrs. Crupp, and acquainted her with my -desperate design. Mrs. Crupp said, in the first place, of course it was -well known she couldn't be expected to wait, but she knew a handy young -man, who she thought could be prevailed upon to do it, and whose terms -would be five shillings, and what I pleased. I said, certainly we would -have him. Next Mrs. Crupp said it was clear she couldn't be in two -places at once (which I felt to be reasonable), and that 'a young gal' -stationed in the pantry with a bedroom candle, there never to desist -from washing plates, would be indispensable. I said, what would be -the expense of this young female? and Mrs. Crupp said she supposed -eighteenpence would neither make me nor break me. I said I supposed not; -and THAT was settled. Then Mrs. Crupp said, Now about the dinner. - -It was a remarkable instance of want of forethought on the part of the -ironmonger who had made Mrs. Crupp's kitchen fireplace, that it was -capable of cooking nothing but chops and mashed potatoes. As to a -fish-kittle, Mrs. Crupp said, well! would I only come and look at the -range? She couldn't say fairer than that. Would I come and look at -it? As I should not have been much the wiser if I HAD looked at it, I -declined, and said, 'Never mind fish.' But Mrs. Crupp said, Don't say -that; oysters was in, why not them? So THAT was settled. Mrs. Crupp -then said what she would recommend would be this. A pair of hot -roast fowls--from the pastry-cook's; a dish of stewed beef, with -vegetables--from the pastry-cook's; two little corner things, as a -raised pie and a dish of kidneys--from the pastrycook's; a tart, and (if -I liked) a shape of jelly--from the pastrycook's. This, Mrs. Crupp said, -would leave her at full liberty to concentrate her mind on the potatoes, -and to serve up the cheese and celery as she could wish to see it done. - -I acted on Mrs. Crupp's opinion, and gave the order at the pastry-cook's -myself. Walking along the Strand, afterwards, and observing a hard -mottled substance in the window of a ham and beef shop, which resembled -marble, but was labelled 'Mock Turtle', I went in and bought a slab of -it, which I have since seen reason to believe would have sufficed for -fifteen people. This preparation, Mrs. Crupp, after some difficulty, -consented to warm up; and it shrunk so much in a liquid state, that we -found it what Steerforth called 'rather a tight fit' for four. - -These preparations happily completed, I bought a little dessert in -Covent Garden Market, and gave a rather extensive order at a retail -wine-merchant's in that vicinity. When I came home in the afternoon, and -saw the bottles drawn up in a square on the pantry floor, they looked -so numerous (though there were two missing, which made Mrs. Crupp very -uncomfortable), that I was absolutely frightened at them. - -One of Steerforth's friends was named Grainger, and the other Markham. -They were both very gay and lively fellows; Grainger, something older -than Steerforth; Markham, youthful-looking, and I should say not -more than twenty. I observed that the latter always spoke of himself -indefinitely, as 'a man', and seldom or never in the first person -singular. - -'A man might get on very well here, Mr. Copperfield,' said -Markham--meaning himself. - -'It's not a bad situation,' said I, 'and the rooms are really -commodious.' - -'I hope you have both brought appetites with you?' said Steerforth. - -'Upon my honour,' returned Markham, 'town seems to sharpen a man's -appetite. A man is hungry all day long. A man is perpetually eating.' - -Being a little embarrassed at first, and feeling much too young to -preside, I made Steerforth take the head of the table when dinner was -announced, and seated myself opposite to him. Everything was very good; -we did not spare the wine; and he exerted himself so brilliantly to make -the thing pass off well, that there was no pause in our festivity. I was -not quite such good company during dinner as I could have wished to be, -for my chair was opposite the door, and my attention was distracted by -observing that the handy young man went out of the room very often, and -that his shadow always presented itself, immediately afterwards, on the -wall of the entry, with a bottle at its mouth. The 'young gal' likewise -occasioned me some uneasiness: not so much by neglecting to wash the -plates, as by breaking them. For being of an inquisitive disposition, -and unable to confine herself (as her positive instructions were) to the -pantry, she was constantly peering in at us, and constantly imagining -herself detected; in which belief, she several times retired upon the -plates (with which she had carefully paved the floor), and did a great -deal of destruction. - -These, however, were small drawbacks, and easily forgotten when the -cloth was cleared, and the dessert put on the table; at which period of -the entertainment the handy young man was discovered to be speechless. -Giving him private directions to seek the society of Mrs. Crupp, and -to remove the 'young gal' to the basement also, I abandoned myself to -enjoyment. - -I began, by being singularly cheerful and light-hearted; all sorts of -half-forgotten things to talk about, came rushing into my mind, and made -me hold forth in a most unwonted manner. I laughed heartily at my own -jokes, and everybody else's; called Steerforth to order for not passing -the wine; made several engagements to go to Oxford; announced that -I meant to have a dinner-party exactly like that, once a week, until -further notice; and madly took so much snuff out of Grainger's box, that -I was obliged to go into the pantry, and have a private fit of sneezing -ten minutes long. - -I went on, by passing the wine faster and faster yet, and continually -starting up with a corkscrew to open more wine, long before any was -needed. I proposed Steerforth's health. I said he was my dearest friend, -the protector of my boyhood, and the companion of my prime. I said I was -delighted to propose his health. I said I owed him more obligations than -I could ever repay, and held him in a higher admiration than I could -ever express. I finished by saying, 'I'll give you Steerforth! God bless -him! Hurrah!' We gave him three times three, and another, and a good one -to finish with. I broke my glass in going round the table to shake -hands with him, and I said (in two words) - -'Steerforth--you'retheguidingstarofmyexistence.' - -I went on, by finding suddenly that somebody was in the middle of a -song. Markham was the singer, and he sang 'When the heart of a man is -depressed with care'. He said, when he had sung it, he would give us -'Woman!' I took objection to that, and I couldn't allow it. I said -it was not a respectful way of proposing the toast, and I would never -permit that toast to be drunk in my house otherwise than as 'The -Ladies!' I was very high with him, mainly I think because I saw -Steerforth and Grainger laughing at me--or at him--or at both of us. He -said a man was not to be dictated to. I said a man was. He said a man -was not to be insulted, then. I said he was right there--never under -my roof, where the Lares were sacred, and the laws of hospitality -paramount. He said it was no derogation from a man's dignity to confess -that I was a devilish good fellow. I instantly proposed his health. - -Somebody was smoking. We were all smoking. I was smoking, and trying -to suppress a rising tendency to shudder. Steerforth had made a speech -about me, in the course of which I had been affected almost to tears. -I returned thanks, and hoped the present company would dine with me -tomorrow, and the day after--each day at five o'clock, that we might -enjoy the pleasures of conversation and society through a long evening. -I felt called upon to propose an individual. I would give them my aunt. -Miss Betsey Trotwood, the best of her sex! - -Somebody was leaning out of my bedroom window, refreshing his forehead -against the cool stone of the parapet, and feeling the air upon his -face. It was myself. I was addressing myself as 'Copperfield', and -saying, 'Why did you try to smoke? You might have known you couldn't -do it.' Now, somebody was unsteadily contemplating his features in the -looking-glass. That was I too. I was very pale in the looking-glass; -my eyes had a vacant appearance; and my hair--only my hair, nothing -else--looked drunk. - -Somebody said to me, 'Let us go to the theatre, Copperfield!' There was -no bedroom before me, but again the jingling table covered with glasses; -the lamp; Grainger on my right hand, Markham on my left, and Steerforth -opposite--all sitting in a mist, and a long way off. The theatre? To -be sure. The very thing. Come along! But they must excuse me if I saw -everybody out first, and turned the lamp off--in case of fire. - -Owing to some confusion in the dark, the door was gone. I was feeling -for it in the window-curtains, when Steerforth, laughing, took me by -the arm and led me out. We went downstairs, one behind another. Near -the bottom, somebody fell, and rolled down. Somebody else said it was -Copperfield. I was angry at that false report, until, finding myself on -my back in the passage, I began to think there might be some foundation -for it. - -A very foggy night, with great rings round the lamps in the streets! -There was an indistinct talk of its being wet. I considered it frosty. -Steerforth dusted me under a lamp-post, and put my hat into shape, which -somebody produced from somewhere in a most extraordinary manner, for -I hadn't had it on before. Steerforth then said, 'You are all right, -Copperfield, are you not?' and I told him, 'Neverberrer.' - -A man, sitting in a pigeon-hole-place, looked out of the fog, and took -money from somebody, inquiring if I was one of the gentlemen paid for, -and appearing rather doubtful (as I remember in the glimpse I had of -him) whether to take the money for me or not. Shortly afterwards, we -were very high up in a very hot theatre, looking down into a large pit, -that seemed to me to smoke; the people with whom it was crammed were so -indistinct. There was a great stage, too, looking very clean and -smooth after the streets; and there were people upon it, talking about -something or other, but not at all intelligibly. There was an abundance -of bright lights, and there was music, and there were ladies down in the -boxes, and I don't know what more. The whole building looked to me as if -it were learning to swim; it conducted itself in such an unaccountable -manner, when I tried to steady it. - -On somebody's motion, we resolved to go downstairs to the dress-boxes, -where the ladies were. A gentleman lounging, full dressed, on a sofa, -with an opera-glass in his hand, passed before my view, and also my own -figure at full length in a glass. Then I was being ushered into one of -these boxes, and found myself saying something as I sat down, and people -about me crying 'Silence!' to somebody, and ladies casting indignant -glances at me, and--what! yes!--Agnes, sitting on the seat before me, in -the same box, with a lady and gentleman beside her, whom I didn't -know. I see her face now, better than I did then, I dare say, with its -indelible look of regret and wonder turned upon me. - -'Agnes!' I said, thickly, 'Lorblessmer! Agnes!' - -'Hush! Pray!' she answered, I could not conceive why. 'You disturb the -company. Look at the stage!' - -I tried, on her injunction, to fix it, and to hear something of what was -going on there, but quite in vain. I looked at her again by and by, and -saw her shrink into her corner, and put her gloved hand to her forehead. - -'Agnes!' I said. 'I'mafraidyou'renorwell.' - -'Yes, yes. Do not mind me, Trotwood,' she returned. 'Listen! Are you -going away soon?' - -'Amigoarawaysoo?' I repeated. - -'Yes.' - -I had a stupid intention of replying that I was going to wait, to hand -her downstairs. I suppose I expressed it, somehow; for after she had -looked at me attentively for a little while, she appeared to understand, -and replied in a low tone: - -'I know you will do as I ask you, if I tell you I am very earnest in -it. Go away now, Trotwood, for my sake, and ask your friends to take you -home.' - -She had so far improved me, for the time, that though I was angry with -her, I felt ashamed, and with a short 'Goori!' (which I intended for -'Good night!') got up and went away. They followed, and I stepped at -once out of the box-door into my bedroom, where only Steerforth was with -me, helping me to undress, and where I was by turns telling him that -Agnes was my sister, and adjuring him to bring the corkscrew, that I -might open another bottle of wine. - -How somebody, lying in my bed, lay saying and doing all this over again, -at cross purposes, in a feverish dream all night--the bed a rocking sea -that was never still! How, as that somebody slowly settled down into -myself, did I begin to parch, and feel as if my outer covering of skin -were a hard board; my tongue the bottom of an empty kettle, furred with -long service, and burning up over a slow fire; the palms of my hands, -hot plates of metal which no ice could cool! - -But the agony of mind, the remorse, and shame I felt when I became -conscious next day! My horror of having committed a thousand offences I -had forgotten, and which nothing could ever expiate--my recollection -of that indelible look which Agnes had given me--the torturing -impossibility of communicating with her, not knowing, Beast that I was, -how she came to be in London, or where she stayed--my disgust of -the very sight of the room where the revel had been held--my racking -head--the smell of smoke, the sight of glasses, the impossibility of -going out, or even getting up! Oh, what a day it was! - -Oh, what an evening, when I sat down by my fire to a basin of mutton -broth, dimpled all over with fat, and thought I was going the way of my -predecessor, and should succeed to his dismal story as well as to his -chambers, and had half a mind to rush express to Dover and reveal -all! What an evening, when Mrs. Crupp, coming in to take away the -broth-basin, produced one kidney on a cheese-plate as the entire remains -of yesterday's feast, and I was really inclined to fall upon her nankeen -breast and say, in heartfelt penitence, 'Oh, Mrs. Crupp, Mrs. Crupp, -never mind the broken meats! I am very miserable!'--only that I doubted, -even at that pass, if Mrs. Crupp were quite the sort of woman to confide -in! - - -CHAPTER 25. GOOD AND BAD ANGELS - - -I was going out at my door on the morning after that deplorable day of -headache, sickness, and repentance, with an odd confusion in my mind -relative to the date of my dinner-party, as if a body of Titans had -taken an enormous lever and pushed the day before yesterday some months -back, when I saw a ticket-porter coming upstairs, with a letter in his -hand. He was taking his time about his errand, then; but when he saw me -on the top of the staircase, looking at him over the banisters, he swung -into a trot, and came up panting as if he had run himself into a state -of exhaustion. - -'T. Copperfield, Esquire,' said the ticket-porter, touching his hat with -his little cane. - -I could scarcely lay claim to the name: I was so disturbed by the -conviction that the letter came from Agnes. However, I told him I was T. -Copperfield, Esquire, and he believed it, and gave me the letter, which -he said required an answer. I shut him out on the landing to wait for -the answer, and went into my chambers again, in such a nervous state -that I was fain to lay the letter down on my breakfast table, and -familiarize myself with the outside of it a little, before I could -resolve to break the seal. - -I found, when I did open it, that it was a very kind note, containing -no reference to my condition at the theatre. All it said was, 'My dear -Trotwood. I am staying at the house of papa's agent, Mr. Waterbrook, in -Ely Place, Holborn. Will you come and see me today, at any time you like -to appoint? Ever yours affectionately, AGNES.' - -It took me such a long time to write an answer at all to my -satisfaction, that I don't know what the ticket-porter can have -thought, unless he thought I was learning to write. I must have written -half-a-dozen answers at least. I began one, 'How can I ever hope, -my dear Agnes, to efface from your remembrance the disgusting -impression'--there I didn't like it, and then I tore it up. I began -another, 'Shakespeare has observed, my dear Agnes, how strange it is -that a man should put an enemy into his mouth'--that reminded me of -Markham, and it got no farther. I even tried poetry. I began one note, -in a six-syllable line, 'Oh, do not remember'--but that associated -itself with the fifth of November, and became an absurdity. After many -attempts, I wrote, 'My dear Agnes. Your letter is like you, and what -could I say of it that would be higher praise than that? I will come at -four o'clock. Affectionately and sorrowfully, T.C.' With this missive -(which I was in twenty minds at once about recalling, as soon as it was -out of my hands), the ticket-porter at last departed. - -If the day were half as tremendous to any other professional gentleman -in Doctors' Commons as it was to me, I sincerely believe he made some -expiation for his share in that rotten old ecclesiastical cheese. -Although I left the office at half past three, and was prowling about -the place of appointment within a few minutes afterwards, the appointed -time was exceeded by a full quarter of an hour, according to the -clock of St. Andrew's, Holborn, before I could muster up sufficient -desperation to pull the private bell-handle let into the left-hand -door-post of Mr. Waterbrook's house. - -The professional business of Mr. Waterbrook's establishment was done on -the ground-floor, and the genteel business (of which there was a good -deal) in the upper part of the building. I was shown into a pretty but -rather close drawing-room, and there sat Agnes, netting a purse. - -She looked so quiet and good, and reminded me so strongly of my airy -fresh school days at Canterbury, and the sodden, smoky, stupid wretch -I had been the other night, that, nobody being by, I yielded to my -self-reproach and shame, and--in short, made a fool of myself. I cannot -deny that I shed tears. To this hour I am undecided whether it was upon -the whole the wisest thing I could have done, or the most ridiculous. - -'If it had been anyone but you, Agnes,' said I, turning away my head, 'I -should not have minded it half so much. But that it should have been you -who saw me! I almost wish I had been dead, first.' - -She put her hand--its touch was like no other hand--upon my arm for a -moment; and I felt so befriended and comforted, that I could not help -moving it to my lips, and gratefully kissing it. - -'Sit down,' said Agnes, cheerfully. 'Don't be unhappy, Trotwood. If you -cannot confidently trust me, whom will you trust?' - -'Ah, Agnes!' I returned. 'You are my good Angel!' - -She smiled rather sadly, I thought, and shook her head. - -'Yes, Agnes, my good Angel! Always my good Angel!' - -'If I were, indeed, Trotwood,' she returned, 'there is one thing that I -should set my heart on very much.' - -I looked at her inquiringly; but already with a foreknowledge of her -meaning. - -'On warning you,' said Agnes, with a steady glance, 'against your bad -Angel.' - -'My dear Agnes,' I began, 'if you mean Steerforth--' - -'I do, Trotwood,' she returned. 'Then, Agnes, you wrong him very much. -He my bad Angel, or anyone's! He, anything but a guide, a support, and -a friend to me! My dear Agnes! Now, is it not unjust, and unlike you, to -judge him from what you saw of me the other night?' - -'I do not judge him from what I saw of you the other night,' she quietly -replied. - -'From what, then?' - -'From many things--trifles in themselves, but they do not seem to me to -be so, when they are put together. I judge him, partly from your account -of him, Trotwood, and your character, and the influence he has over -you.' - -There was always something in her modest voice that seemed to touch a -chord within me, answering to that sound alone. It was always earnest; -but when it was very earnest, as it was now, there was a thrill in it -that quite subdued me. I sat looking at her as she cast her eyes down on -her work; I sat seeming still to listen to her; and Steerforth, in spite -of all my attachment to him, darkened in that tone. - -'It is very bold in me,' said Agnes, looking up again, 'who have lived -in such seclusion, and can know so little of the world, to give you my -advice so confidently, or even to have this strong opinion. But I know -in what it is engendered, Trotwood,--in how true a remembrance of our -having grown up together, and in how true an interest in all relating -to you. It is that which makes me bold. I am certain that what I say is -right. I am quite sure it is. I feel as if it were someone else speaking -to you, and not I, when I caution you that you have made a dangerous -friend.' - -Again I looked at her, again I listened to her after she was silent, and -again his image, though it was still fixed in my heart, darkened. - -'I am not so unreasonable as to expect,' said Agnes, resuming her usual -tone, after a little while, 'that you will, or that you can, at once, -change any sentiment that has become a conviction to you; least of all -a sentiment that is rooted in your trusting disposition. You ought not -hastily to do that. I only ask you, Trotwood, if you ever think of me--I -mean,' with a quiet smile, for I was going to interrupt her, and she -knew why, 'as often as you think of me--to think of what I have said. Do -you forgive me for all this?' - -'I will forgive you, Agnes,' I replied, 'when you come to do Steerforth -justice, and to like him as well as I do.' - -'Not until then?' said Agnes. - -I saw a passing shadow on her face when I made this mention of him, but -she returned my smile, and we were again as unreserved in our mutual -confidence as of old. - -'And when, Agnes,' said I, 'will you forgive me the other night?' - -'When I recall it,' said Agnes. - -She would have dismissed the subject so, but I was too full of it to -allow that, and insisted on telling her how it happened that I had -disgraced myself, and what chain of accidental circumstances had had the -theatre for its final link. It was a great relief to me to do this, and -to enlarge on the obligation that I owed to Steerforth for his care of -me when I was unable to take care of myself. - -'You must not forget,' said Agnes, calmly changing the conversation as -soon as I had concluded, 'that you are always to tell me, not only when -you fall into trouble, but when you fall in love. Who has succeeded to -Miss Larkins, Trotwood?' - -'No one, Agnes.' - -'Someone, Trotwood,' said Agnes, laughing, and holding up her finger. - -'No, Agnes, upon my word! There is a lady, certainly, at Mrs. -Steerforth's house, who is very clever, and whom I like to talk to--Miss -Dartle--but I don't adore her.' - -Agnes laughed again at her own penetration, and told me that if I were -faithful to her in my confidence she thought she should keep a little -register of my violent attachments, with the date, duration, and -termination of each, like the table of the reigns of the kings and -queens, in the History of England. Then she asked me if I had seen -Uriah. - -'Uriah Heep?' said I. 'No. Is he in London?' - -'He comes to the office downstairs, every day,' returned Agnes. 'He -was in London a week before me. I am afraid on disagreeable business, -Trotwood.' - -'On some business that makes you uneasy, Agnes, I see,' said I. 'What -can that be?' - -Agnes laid aside her work, and replied, folding her hands upon one -another, and looking pensively at me out of those beautiful soft eyes of -hers: - -'I believe he is going to enter into partnership with papa.' - -'What? Uriah? That mean, fawning fellow, worm himself into such -promotion!' I cried, indignantly. 'Have you made no remonstrance about -it, Agnes? Consider what a connexion it is likely to be. You must speak -out. You must not allow your father to take such a mad step. You must -prevent it, Agnes, while there's time.' - -Still looking at me, Agnes shook her head while I was speaking, with a -faint smile at my warmth: and then replied: - -'You remember our last conversation about papa? It was not long after -that--not more than two or three days--when he gave me the first -intimation of what I tell you. It was sad to see him struggling between -his desire to represent it to me as a matter of choice on his part, -and his inability to conceal that it was forced upon him. I felt very -sorry.' - -'Forced upon him, Agnes! Who forces it upon him?' - -'Uriah,' she replied, after a moment's hesitation, 'has made himself -indispensable to papa. He is subtle and watchful. He has mastered papa's -weaknesses, fostered them, and taken advantage of them, until--to say -all that I mean in a word, Trotwood,--until papa is afraid of him.' - -There was more that she might have said; more that she knew, or that she -suspected; I clearly saw. I could not give her pain by asking what it -was, for I knew that she withheld it from me, to spare her father. It -had long been going on to this, I was sensible: yes, I could not but -feel, on the least reflection, that it had been going on to this for a -long time. I remained silent. - -'His ascendancy over papa,' said Agnes, 'is very great. He professes -humility and gratitude--with truth, perhaps: I hope so--but his position -is really one of power, and I fear he makes a hard use of his power.' - -I said he was a hound, which, at the moment, was a great satisfaction to -me. - -'At the time I speak of, as the time when papa spoke to me,' pursued -Agnes, 'he had told papa that he was going away; that he was very sorry, -and unwilling to leave, but that he had better prospects. Papa was very -much depressed then, and more bowed down by care than ever you or I have -seen him; but he seemed relieved by this expedient of the partnership, -though at the same time he seemed hurt by it and ashamed of it.' - -'And how did you receive it, Agnes?' - -'I did, Trotwood,' she replied, 'what I hope was right. Feeling sure -that it was necessary for papa's peace that the sacrifice should be -made, I entreated him to make it. I said it would lighten the load -of his life--I hope it will!--and that it would give me increased -opportunities of being his companion. Oh, Trotwood!' cried Agnes, -putting her hands before her face, as her tears started on it, 'I almost -feel as if I had been papa's enemy, instead of his loving child. For -I know how he has altered, in his devotion to me. I know how he has -narrowed the circle of his sympathies and duties, in the concentration -of his whole mind upon me. I know what a multitude of things he has shut -out for my sake, and how his anxious thoughts of me have shadowed his -life, and weakened his strength and energy, by turning them always upon -one idea. If I could ever set this right! If I could ever work out his -restoration, as I have so innocently been the cause of his decline!' - -I had never before seen Agnes cry. I had seen tears in her eyes when I -had brought new honours home from school, and I had seen them there when -we last spoke about her father, and I had seen her turn her gentle head -aside when we took leave of one another; but I had never seen her grieve -like this. It made me so sorry that I could only say, in a foolish, -helpless manner, 'Pray, Agnes, don't! Don't, my dear sister!' - -But Agnes was too superior to me in character and purpose, as I know -well now, whatever I might know or not know then, to be long in need of -my entreaties. The beautiful, calm manner, which makes her so different -in my remembrance from everybody else, came back again, as if a cloud -had passed from a serene sky. - -'We are not likely to remain alone much longer,' said Agnes, 'and while -I have an opportunity, let me earnestly entreat you, Trotwood, to be -friendly to Uriah. Don't repel him. Don't resent (as I think you have a -general disposition to do) what may be uncongenial to you in him. He may -not deserve it, for we know no certain ill of him. In any case, think -first of papa and me!' - -Agnes had no time to say more, for the room door opened, and Mrs. -Waterbrook, who was a large lady--or who wore a large dress: I don't -exactly know which, for I don't know which was dress and which was -lady--came sailing in. I had a dim recollection of having seen her -at the theatre, as if I had seen her in a pale magic lantern; but she -appeared to remember me perfectly, and still to suspect me of being in a -state of intoxication. - -Finding by degrees, however, that I was sober, and (I hope) that I was -a modest young gentleman, Mrs. Waterbrook softened towards me -considerably, and inquired, firstly, if I went much into the parks, -and secondly, if I went much into society. On my replying to both these -questions in the negative, it occurred to me that I fell again in her -good opinion; but she concealed the fact gracefully, and invited me to -dinner next day. I accepted the invitation, and took my leave, making a -call on Uriah in the office as I went out, and leaving a card for him in -his absence. - -When I went to dinner next day, and on the street door being opened, -plunged into a vapour-bath of haunch of mutton, I divined that I was -not the only guest, for I immediately identified the ticket-porter in -disguise, assisting the family servant, and waiting at the foot of the -stairs to carry up my name. He looked, to the best of his ability, when -he asked me for it confidentially, as if he had never seen me before; -but well did I know him, and well did he know me. Conscience made -cowards of us both. - -I found Mr. Waterbrook to be a middle-aged gentleman, with a short -throat, and a good deal of shirt-collar, who only wanted a black nose to -be the portrait of a pug-dog. He told me he was happy to have the -honour of making my acquaintance; and when I had paid my homage to Mrs. -Waterbrook, presented me, with much ceremony, to a very awful lady in -a black velvet dress, and a great black velvet hat, whom I remember as -looking like a near relation of Hamlet's--say his aunt. - -Mrs. Henry Spiker was this lady's name; and her husband was there -too: so cold a man, that his head, instead of being grey, seemed to -be sprinkled with hoar-frost. Immense deference was shown to the Henry -Spikers, male and female; which Agnes told me was on account of Mr. -Henry Spiker being solicitor to something or to somebody, I forget what -or which, remotely connected with the Treasury. - -I found Uriah Heep among the company, in a suit of black, and in deep -humility. He told me, when I shook hands with him, that he was proud -to be noticed by me, and that he really felt obliged to me for my -condescension. I could have wished he had been less obliged to me, for -he hovered about me in his gratitude all the rest of the evening; and -whenever I said a word to Agnes, was sure, with his shadowless eyes and -cadaverous face, to be looking gauntly down upon us from behind. - -There were other guests--all iced for the occasion, as it struck me, -like the wine. But there was one who attracted my attention before he -came in, on account of my hearing him announced as Mr. Traddles! My mind -flew back to Salem House; and could it be Tommy, I thought, who used to -draw the skeletons! - -I looked for Mr. Traddles with unusual interest. He was a sober, -steady-looking young man of retiring manners, with a comic head of hair, -and eyes that were rather wide open; and he got into an obscure corner -so soon, that I had some difficulty in making him out. At length I had -a good view of him, and either my vision deceived me, or it was the old -unfortunate Tommy. - -I made my way to Mr. Waterbrook, and said, that I believed I had the -pleasure of seeing an old schoolfellow there. - -'Indeed!' said Mr. Waterbrook, surprised. 'You are too young to have -been at school with Mr. Henry Spiker?' - -'Oh, I don't mean him!' I returned. 'I mean the gentleman named -Traddles.' - -'Oh! Aye, aye! Indeed!' said my host, with much diminished interest. -'Possibly.' - -'If it's really the same person,' said I, glancing towards him, 'it -was at a place called Salem House where we were together, and he was an -excellent fellow.' - -'Oh yes. Traddles is a good fellow,' returned my host nodding his head -with an air of toleration. 'Traddles is quite a good fellow.' - -'It's a curious coincidence,' said I. - -'It is really,' returned my host, 'quite a coincidence, that Traddles -should be here at all: as Traddles was only invited this morning, when -the place at table, intended to be occupied by Mrs. Henry Spiker's -brother, became vacant, in consequence of his indisposition. A very -gentlemanly man, Mrs. Henry Spiker's brother, Mr. Copperfield.' - -I murmured an assent, which was full of feeling, considering that I -knew nothing at all about him; and I inquired what Mr. Traddles was by -profession. - -'Traddles,' returned Mr. Waterbrook, 'is a young man reading for the -bar. Yes. He is quite a good fellow--nobody's enemy but his own.' - -'Is he his own enemy?' said I, sorry to hear this. - -'Well,' returned Mr. Waterbrook, pursing up his mouth, and playing with -his watch-chain, in a comfortable, prosperous sort of way. 'I should say -he was one of those men who stand in their own light. Yes, I should say -he would never, for example, be worth five hundred pound. Traddles was -recommended to me by a professional friend. Oh yes. Yes. He has a kind -of talent for drawing briefs, and stating a case in writing, plainly. I -am able to throw something in Traddles's way, in the course of the year; -something--for him--considerable. Oh yes. Yes.' - -I was much impressed by the extremely comfortable and satisfied manner -in which Mr. Waterbrook delivered himself of this little word 'Yes', -every now and then. There was wonderful expression in it. It completely -conveyed the idea of a man who had been born, not to say with a silver -spoon, but with a scaling-ladder, and had gone on mounting all the -heights of life one after another, until now he looked, from the top of -the fortifications, with the eye of a philosopher and a patron, on the -people down in the trenches. - -My reflections on this theme were still in progress when dinner was -announced. Mr. Waterbrook went down with Hamlet's aunt. Mr. Henry Spiker -took Mrs. Waterbrook. Agnes, whom I should have liked to take myself, -was given to a simpering fellow with weak legs. Uriah, Traddles, and I, -as the junior part of the company, went down last, how we could. I was -not so vexed at losing Agnes as I might have been, since it gave me -an opportunity of making myself known to Traddles on the stairs, who -greeted me with great fervour; while Uriah writhed with such obtrusive -satisfaction and self-abasement, that I could gladly have pitched -him over the banisters. Traddles and I were separated at table, being -billeted in two remote corners: he in the glare of a red velvet lady; -I, in the gloom of Hamlet's aunt. The dinner was very long, and the -conversation was about the Aristocracy--and Blood. Mrs. Waterbrook -repeatedly told us, that if she had a weakness, it was Blood. - -It occurred to me several times that we should have got on better, if we -had not been quite so genteel. We were so exceedingly genteel, that our -scope was very limited. A Mr. and Mrs. Gulpidge were of the party, who -had something to do at second-hand (at least, Mr. Gulpidge had) with -the law business of the Bank; and what with the Bank, and what with -the Treasury, we were as exclusive as the Court Circular. To mend the -matter, Hamlet's aunt had the family failing of indulging in soliloquy, -and held forth in a desultory manner, by herself, on every topic that -was introduced. These were few enough, to be sure; but as we always fell -back upon Blood, she had as wide a field for abstract speculation as her -nephew himself. - -We might have been a party of Ogres, the conversation assumed such a -sanguine complexion. - -'I confess I am of Mrs. Waterbrook's opinion,' said Mr. Waterbrook, with -his wine-glass at his eye. 'Other things are all very well in their way, -but give me Blood!' - -'Oh! There is nothing,' observed Hamlet's aunt, 'so satisfactory to one! -There is nothing that is so much one's beau-ideal of--of all that sort -of thing, speaking generally. There are some low minds (not many, I am -happy to believe, but there are some) that would prefer to do what I -should call bow down before idols. Positively Idols! Before service, -intellect, and so on. But these are intangible points. Blood is not so. -We see Blood in a nose, and we know it. We meet with it in a chin, and -we say, "There it is! That's Blood!" It is an actual matter of fact. We -point it out. It admits of no doubt.' - -The simpering fellow with the weak legs, who had taken Agnes down, -stated the question more decisively yet, I thought. - -'Oh, you know, deuce take it,' said this gentleman, looking round the -board with an imbecile smile, 'we can't forego Blood, you know. We must -have Blood, you know. Some young fellows, you know, may be a little -behind their station, perhaps, in point of education and behaviour, and -may go a little wrong, you know, and get themselves and other people -into a variety of fixes--and all that--but deuce take it, it's -delightful to reflect that they've got Blood in 'em! Myself, I'd rather -at any time be knocked down by a man who had got Blood in him, than I'd -be picked up by a man who hadn't!' - -This sentiment, as compressing the general question into a nutshell, -gave the utmost satisfaction, and brought the gentleman into great -notice until the ladies retired. After that, I observed that Mr. -Gulpidge and Mr. Henry Spiker, who had hitherto been very distant, -entered into a defensive alliance against us, the common enemy, and -exchanged a mysterious dialogue across the table for our defeat and -overthrow. - -'That affair of the first bond for four thousand five hundred pounds has -not taken the course that was expected, Spiker,' said Mr. Gulpidge. - -'Do you mean the D. of A.'s?' said Mr. Spiker. - -'The C. of B.'s!' said Mr. Gulpidge. - -Mr. Spiker raised his eyebrows, and looked much concerned. - -'When the question was referred to Lord--I needn't name him,' said Mr. -Gulpidge, checking himself-- - -'I understand,' said Mr. Spiker, 'N.' - -Mr. Gulpidge darkly nodded--'was referred to him, his answer was, -"Money, or no release."' - -'Lord bless my soul!' cried Mr. Spiker. - -"'Money, or no release,"' repeated Mr. Gulpidge, firmly. 'The next in -reversion--you understand me?' - -'K.,' said Mr. Spiker, with an ominous look. - -'--K. then positively refused to sign. He was attended at Newmarket for -that purpose, and he point-blank refused to do it.' - -Mr. Spiker was so interested, that he became quite stony. - -'So the matter rests at this hour,' said Mr. Gulpidge, throwing himself -back in his chair. 'Our friend Waterbrook will excuse me if I forbear to -explain myself generally, on account of the magnitude of the interests -involved.' - -Mr. Waterbrook was only too happy, as it appeared to me, to have such -interests, and such names, even hinted at, across his table. He assumed -an expression of gloomy intelligence (though I am persuaded he knew -no more about the discussion than I did), and highly approved of the -discretion that had been observed. Mr. Spiker, after the receipt of such -a confidence, naturally desired to favour his friend with a confidence -of his own; therefore the foregoing dialogue was succeeded by another, -in which it was Mr. Gulpidge's turn to be surprised, and that by another -in which the surprise came round to Mr. Spiker's turn again, and so on, -turn and turn about. All this time we, the outsiders, remained oppressed -by the tremendous interests involved in the conversation; and our -host regarded us with pride, as the victims of a salutary awe and -astonishment. I was very glad indeed to get upstairs to Agnes, and to -talk with her in a corner, and to introduce Traddles to her, who was -shy, but agreeable, and the same good-natured creature still. As he -was obliged to leave early, on account of going away next morning for -a month, I had not nearly so much conversation with him as I could have -wished; but we exchanged addresses, and promised ourselves the pleasure -of another meeting when he should come back to town. He was greatly -interested to hear that I knew Steerforth, and spoke of him with such -warmth that I made him tell Agnes what he thought of him. But Agnes only -looked at me the while, and very slightly shook her head when only I -observed her. - -As she was not among people with whom I believed she could be very much -at home, I was almost glad to hear that she was going away within a few -days, though I was sorry at the prospect of parting from her again -so soon. This caused me to remain until all the company were gone. -Conversing with her, and hearing her sing, was such a delightful -reminder to me of my happy life in the grave old house she had made so -beautiful, that I could have remained there half the night; but, having -no excuse for staying any longer, when the lights of Mr. Waterbrook's -society were all snuffed out, I took my leave very much against my -inclination. I felt then, more than ever, that she was my better Angel; -and if I thought of her sweet face and placid smile, as though they had -shone on me from some removed being, like an Angel, I hope I thought no -harm. - -I have said that the company were all gone; but I ought to have excepted -Uriah, whom I don't include in that denomination, and who had never -ceased to hover near us. He was close behind me when I went downstairs. -He was close beside me, when I walked away from the house, slowly -fitting his long skeleton fingers into the still longer fingers of a -great Guy Fawkes pair of gloves. - -It was in no disposition for Uriah's company, but in remembrance of the -entreaty Agnes had made to me, that I asked him if he would come home to -my rooms, and have some coffee. - -'Oh, really, Master Copperfield,' he rejoined--'I beg your pardon, -Mister Copperfield, but the other comes so natural, I don't like that -you should put a constraint upon yourself to ask a numble person like me -to your ouse.' - -'There is no constraint in the case,' said I. 'Will you come?' - -'I should like to, very much,' replied Uriah, with a writhe. - -'Well, then, come along!' said I. - -I could not help being rather short with him, but he appeared not to -mind it. We went the nearest way, without conversing much upon the road; -and he was so humble in respect of those scarecrow gloves, that he -was still putting them on, and seemed to have made no advance in that -labour, when we got to my place. - -I led him up the dark stairs, to prevent his knocking his head against -anything, and really his damp cold hand felt so like a frog in mine, -that I was tempted to drop it and run away. Agnes and hospitality -prevailed, however, and I conducted him to my fireside. When I lighted -my candles, he fell into meek transports with the room that was revealed -to him; and when I heated the coffee in an unassuming block-tin vessel -in which Mrs. Crupp delighted to prepare it (chiefly, I believe, because -it was not intended for the purpose, being a shaving-pot, and because -there was a patent invention of great price mouldering away in the -pantry), he professed so much emotion, that I could joyfully have -scalded him. - -'Oh, really, Master Copperfield,--I mean Mister Copperfield,' said -Uriah, 'to see you waiting upon me is what I never could have expected! -But, one way and another, so many things happen to me which I never -could have expected, I am sure, in my umble station, that it seems -to rain blessings on my ed. You have heard something, I des-say, of a -change in my expectations, Master Copperfield,--I should say, Mister -Copperfield?' - -As he sat on my sofa, with his long knees drawn up under his coffee-cup, -his hat and gloves upon the ground close to him, his spoon going softly -round and round, his shadowless red eyes, which looked as if they had -scorched their lashes off, turned towards me without looking at me, the -disagreeable dints I have formerly described in his nostrils coming and -going with his breath, and a snaky undulation pervading his frame from -his chin to his boots, I decided in my own mind that I disliked him -intensely. It made me very uncomfortable to have him for a guest, for I -was young then, and unused to disguise what I so strongly felt. - -'You have heard something, I des-say, of a change in my expectations, -Master Copperfield,--I should say, Mister Copperfield?' observed Uriah. - -'Yes,' said I, 'something.' - -'Ah! I thought Miss Agnes would know of it!' he quietly returned. 'I'm -glad to find Miss Agnes knows of it. Oh, thank you, Master--Mister -Copperfield!' - -I could have thrown my bootjack at him (it lay ready on the rug), for -having entrapped me into the disclosure of anything concerning Agnes, -however immaterial. But I only drank my coffee. - -'What a prophet you have shown yourself, Mister Copperfield!' pursued -Uriah. 'Dear me, what a prophet you have proved yourself to be! Don't -you remember saying to me once, that perhaps I should be a partner in -Mr. Wickfield's business, and perhaps it might be Wickfield and -Heep? You may not recollect it; but when a person is umble, Master -Copperfield, a person treasures such things up!' - -'I recollect talking about it,' said I, 'though I certainly did not -think it very likely then.' 'Oh! who would have thought it likely, -Mister Copperfield!' returned Uriah, enthusiastically. 'I am sure I -didn't myself. I recollect saying with my own lips that I was much too -umble. So I considered myself really and truly.' - -He sat, with that carved grin on his face, looking at the fire, as I -looked at him. - -'But the umblest persons, Master Copperfield,' he presently resumed, -'may be the instruments of good. I am glad to think I have been the -instrument of good to Mr. Wickfield, and that I may be more so. Oh what -a worthy man he is, Mister Copperfield, but how imprudent he has been!' - -'I am sorry to hear it,' said I. I could not help adding, rather -pointedly, 'on all accounts.' - -'Decidedly so, Mister Copperfield,' replied Uriah. 'On all accounts. -Miss Agnes's above all! You don't remember your own eloquent -expressions, Master Copperfield; but I remember how you said one day -that everybody must admire her, and how I thanked you for it! You have -forgot that, I have no doubt, Master Copperfield?' - -'No,' said I, drily. - -'Oh how glad I am you have not!' exclaimed Uriah. 'To think that you -should be the first to kindle the sparks of ambition in my umble breast, -and that you've not forgot it! Oh!--Would you excuse me asking for a cup -more coffee?' - -Something in the emphasis he laid upon the kindling of those sparks, -and something in the glance he directed at me as he said it, had made me -start as if I had seen him illuminated by a blaze of light. Recalled by -his request, preferred in quite another tone of voice, I did the honours -of the shaving-pot; but I did them with an unsteadiness of hand, a -sudden sense of being no match for him, and a perplexed suspicious -anxiety as to what he might be going to say next, which I felt could not -escape his observation. - -He said nothing at all. He stirred his coffee round and round, he sipped -it, he felt his chin softly with his grisly hand, he looked at the fire, -he looked about the room, he gasped rather than smiled at me, he writhed -and undulated about, in his deferential servility, he stirred and sipped -again, but he left the renewal of the conversation to me. - -'So, Mr. Wickfield,' said I, at last, 'who is worth five hundred of -you--or me'; for my life, I think, I could not have helped dividing that -part of the sentence with an awkward jerk; 'has been imprudent, has he, -Mr. Heep?' - -'Oh, very imprudent indeed, Master Copperfield,' returned Uriah, sighing -modestly. 'Oh, very much so! But I wish you'd call me Uriah, if you -please. It's like old times.' - -'Well! Uriah,' said I, bolting it out with some difficulty. - -'Thank you,' he returned, with fervour. 'Thank you, Master Copperfield! -It's like the blowing of old breezes or the ringing of old bellses to -hear YOU say Uriah. I beg your pardon. Was I making any observation?' - -'About Mr. Wickfield,' I suggested. - -'Oh! Yes, truly,' said Uriah. 'Ah! Great imprudence, Master Copperfield. -It's a topic that I wouldn't touch upon, to any soul but you. Even to -you I can only touch upon it, and no more. If anyone else had been in -my place during the last few years, by this time he would have had Mr. -Wickfield (oh, what a worthy man he is, Master Copperfield, too!) under -his thumb. Un--der--his thumb,' said Uriah, very slowly, as he stretched -out his cruel-looking hand above my table, and pressed his own thumb -upon it, until it shook, and shook the room. - -If I had been obliged to look at him with him splay foot on Mr. -Wickfield's head, I think I could scarcely have hated him more. - -'Oh, dear, yes, Master Copperfield,' he proceeded, in a soft voice, -most remarkably contrasting with the action of his thumb, which did not -diminish its hard pressure in the least degree, 'there's no doubt of -it. There would have been loss, disgrace, I don't know what at all. Mr. -Wickfield knows it. I am the umble instrument of umbly serving him, -and he puts me on an eminence I hardly could have hoped to reach. How -thankful should I be!' With his face turned towards me, as he finished, -but without looking at me, he took his crooked thumb off the spot where -he had planted it, and slowly and thoughtfully scraped his lank jaw with -it, as if he were shaving himself. - -I recollect well how indignantly my heart beat, as I saw his crafty -face, with the appropriately red light of the fire upon it, preparing -for something else. - -'Master Copperfield,' he began--'but am I keeping you up?' - -'You are not keeping me up. I generally go to bed late.' - -'Thank you, Master Copperfield! I have risen from my umble station since -first you used to address me, it is true; but I am umble still. I hope I -never shall be otherwise than umble. You will not think the worse of -my umbleness, if I make a little confidence to you, Master Copperfield? -Will you?' - -'Oh no,' said I, with an effort. - -'Thank you!' He took out his pocket-handkerchief, and began wiping the -palms of his hands. 'Miss Agnes, Master Copperfield--' 'Well, Uriah?' - -'Oh, how pleasant to be called Uriah, spontaneously!' he cried; and gave -himself a jerk, like a convulsive fish. 'You thought her looking very -beautiful tonight, Master Copperfield?' - -'I thought her looking as she always does: superior, in all respects, to -everyone around her,' I returned. - -'Oh, thank you! It's so true!' he cried. 'Oh, thank you very much for -that!' - -'Not at all,' I said, loftily. 'There is no reason why you should thank -me.' - -'Why that, Master Copperfield,' said Uriah, 'is, in fact, the confidence -that I am going to take the liberty of reposing. Umble as I am,' he -wiped his hands harder, and looked at them and at the fire by turns, -'umble as my mother is, and lowly as our poor but honest roof has ever -been, the image of Miss Agnes (I don't mind trusting you with my secret, -Master Copperfield, for I have always overflowed towards you since the -first moment I had the pleasure of beholding you in a pony-shay) has -been in my breast for years. Oh, Master Copperfield, with what a pure -affection do I love the ground my Agnes walks on!' - -I believe I had a delirious idea of seizing the red-hot poker out of -the fire, and running him through with it. It went from me with a shock, -like a ball fired from a rifle: but the image of Agnes, outraged by so -much as a thought of this red-headed animal's, remained in my mind when -I looked at him, sitting all awry as if his mean soul griped his body, -and made me giddy. He seemed to swell and grow before my eyes; the room -seemed full of the echoes of his voice; and the strange feeling (to -which, perhaps, no one is quite a stranger) that all this had occurred -before, at some indefinite time, and that I knew what he was going to -say next, took possession of me. - -A timely observation of the sense of power that there was in his face, -did more to bring back to my remembrance the entreaty of Agnes, in -its full force, than any effort I could have made. I asked him, with -a better appearance of composure than I could have thought possible a -minute before, whether he had made his feelings known to Agnes. - -'Oh no, Master Copperfield!' he returned; 'oh dear, no! Not to anyone -but you. You see I am only just emerging from my lowly station. I rest a -good deal of hope on her observing how useful I am to her father (for -I trust to be very useful to him indeed, Master Copperfield), and how I -smooth the way for him, and keep him straight. She's so much attached -to her father, Master Copperfield (oh, what a lovely thing it is in a -daughter!), that I think she may come, on his account, to be kind to -me.' - -I fathomed the depth of the rascal's whole scheme, and understood why he -laid it bare. - -'If you'll have the goodness to keep my secret, Master Copperfield,' he -pursued, 'and not, in general, to go against me, I shall take it as a -particular favour. You wouldn't wish to make unpleasantness. I know -what a friendly heart you've got; but having only known me on my umble -footing (on my umblest I should say, for I am very umble still), you -might, unbeknown, go against me rather, with my Agnes. I call her mine, -you see, Master Copperfield. There's a song that says, "I'd crowns -resign, to call her mine!" I hope to do it, one of these days.' - -Dear Agnes! So much too loving and too good for anyone that I could -think of, was it possible that she was reserved to be the wife of such a -wretch as this! - -'There's no hurry at present, you know, Master Copperfield,' Uriah -proceeded, in his slimy way, as I sat gazing at him, with this thought -in my mind. 'My Agnes is very young still; and mother and me will have -to work our way upwards, and make a good many new arrangements, before -it would be quite convenient. So I shall have time gradually to make her -familiar with my hopes, as opportunities offer. Oh, I'm so much obliged -to you for this confidence! Oh, it's such a relief, you can't think, to -know that you understand our situation, and are certain (as you wouldn't -wish to make unpleasantness in the family) not to go against me!' - -He took the hand which I dared not withhold, and having given it a damp -squeeze, referred to his pale-faced watch. - -'Dear me!' he said, 'it's past one. The moments slip away so, in the -confidence of old times, Master Copperfield, that it's almost half past -one!' - -I answered that I had thought it was later. Not that I had really -thought so, but because my conversational powers were effectually -scattered. - -'Dear me!' he said, considering. 'The ouse that I am stopping at--a sort -of a private hotel and boarding ouse, Master Copperfield, near the New -River ed--will have gone to bed these two hours.' - -'I am sorry,' I returned, 'that there is only one bed here, and that -I--' - -'Oh, don't think of mentioning beds, Master Copperfield!' he rejoined -ecstatically, drawing up one leg. 'But would you have any objections to -my laying down before the fire?' - -'If it comes to that,' I said, 'pray take my bed, and I'll lie down -before the fire.' - -His repudiation of this offer was almost shrill enough, in the excess of -its surprise and humility, to have penetrated to the ears of Mrs. Crupp, -then sleeping, I suppose, in a distant chamber, situated at about the -level of low-water mark, soothed in her slumbers by the ticking of an -incorrigible clock, to which she always referred me when we had any -little difference on the score of punctuality, and which was never less -than three-quarters of an hour too slow, and had always been put right -in the morning by the best authorities. As no arguments I could urge, -in my bewildered condition, had the least effect upon his modesty -in inducing him to accept my bedroom, I was obliged to make the best -arrangements I could, for his repose before the fire. The mattress of -the sofa (which was a great deal too short for his lank figure), the -sofa pillows, a blanket, the table-cover, a clean breakfast-cloth, and -a great-coat, made him a bed and covering, for which he was more than -thankful. Having lent him a night-cap, which he put on at once, and in -which he made such an awful figure, that I have never worn one since, I -left him to his rest. - -I never shall forget that night. I never shall forget how I turned -and tumbled; how I wearied myself with thinking about Agnes and this -creature; how I considered what could I do, and what ought I to do; how -I could come to no other conclusion than that the best course for her -peace was to do nothing, and to keep to myself what I had heard. If -I went to sleep for a few moments, the image of Agnes with her tender -eyes, and of her father looking fondly on her, as I had so often seen -him look, arose before me with appealing faces, and filled me with vague -terrors. When I awoke, the recollection that Uriah was lying in the next -room, sat heavy on me like a waking nightmare; and oppressed me with a -leaden dread, as if I had had some meaner quality of devil for a lodger. - -The poker got into my dozing thoughts besides, and wouldn't come out. I -thought, between sleeping and waking, that it was still red hot, and I -had snatched it out of the fire, and run him through the body. I was so -haunted at last by the idea, though I knew there was nothing in it, that -I stole into the next room to look at him. There I saw him, lying on his -back, with his legs extending to I don't know where, gurglings taking -place in his throat, stoppages in his nose, and his mouth open like -a post-office. He was so much worse in reality than in my distempered -fancy, that afterwards I was attracted to him in very repulsion, and -could not help wandering in and out every half-hour or so, and taking -another look at him. Still, the long, long night seemed heavy and -hopeless as ever, and no promise of day was in the murky sky. - -When I saw him going downstairs early in the morning (for, thank Heaven! -he would not stay to breakfast), it appeared to me as if the night was -going away in his person. When I went out to the Commons, I charged -Mrs. Crupp with particular directions to leave the windows open, that my -sitting-room might be aired, and purged of his presence. - - - -CHAPTER 26. I FALL INTO CAPTIVITY - - -I saw no more of Uriah Heep, until the day when Agnes left town. I was -at the coach office to take leave of her and see her go; and there was -he, returning to Canterbury by the same conveyance. It was some small -satisfaction to me to observe his spare, short-waisted, high-shouldered, -mulberry-coloured great-coat perched up, in company with an umbrella -like a small tent, on the edge of the back seat on the roof, while -Agnes was, of course, inside; but what I underwent in my efforts to be -friendly with him, while Agnes looked on, perhaps deserved that little -recompense. At the coach window, as at the dinner-party, he hovered -about us without a moment's intermission, like a great vulture: gorging -himself on every syllable that I said to Agnes, or Agnes said to me. - -In the state of trouble into which his disclosure by my fire had thrown -me, I had thought very much of the words Agnes had used in reference to -the partnership. 'I did what I hope was right. Feeling sure that it -was necessary for papa's peace that the sacrifice should be made, I -entreated him to make it.' A miserable foreboding that she would -yield to, and sustain herself by, the same feeling in reference to any -sacrifice for his sake, had oppressed me ever since. I knew how she -loved him. I knew what the devotion of her nature was. I knew from her -own lips that she regarded herself as the innocent cause of his errors, -and as owing him a great debt she ardently desired to pay. I had no -consolation in seeing how different she was from this detestable Rufus -with the mulberry-coloured great-coat, for I felt that in the very -difference between them, in the self-denial of her pure soul and the -sordid baseness of his, the greatest danger lay. All this, doubtless, he -knew thoroughly, and had, in his cunning, considered well. - -Yet I was so certain that the prospect of such a sacrifice afar off, -must destroy the happiness of Agnes; and I was so sure, from her manner, -of its being unseen by her then, and having cast no shadow on her yet; -that I could as soon have injured her, as given her any warning of what -impended. Thus it was that we parted without explanation: she waving -her hand and smiling farewell from the coach window; her evil genius -writhing on the roof, as if he had her in his clutches and triumphed. - -I could not get over this farewell glimpse of them for a long time. When -Agnes wrote to tell me of her safe arrival, I was as miserable as when -I saw her going away. Whenever I fell into a thoughtful state, this -subject was sure to present itself, and all my uneasiness was sure to be -redoubled. Hardly a night passed without my dreaming of it. It became a -part of my life, and as inseparable from my life as my own head. - -I had ample leisure to refine upon my uneasiness: for Steerforth was at -Oxford, as he wrote to me, and when I was not at the Commons, I was -very much alone. I believe I had at this time some lurking distrust of -Steerforth. I wrote to him most affectionately in reply to his, but I -think I was glad, upon the whole, that he could not come to London just -then. I suspect the truth to be, that the influence of Agnes was upon -me, undisturbed by the sight of him; and that it was the more powerful -with me, because she had so large a share in my thoughts and interest. - -In the meantime, days and weeks slipped away. I was articled to Spenlow -and Jorkins. I had ninety pounds a year (exclusive of my house-rent -and sundry collateral matters) from my aunt. My rooms were engaged -for twelve months certain: and though I still found them dreary of an -evening, and the evenings long, I could settle down into a state of -equable low spirits, and resign myself to coffee; which I seem, on -looking back, to have taken by the gallon at about this period of my -existence. At about this time, too, I made three discoveries: first, -that Mrs. Crupp was a martyr to a curious disorder called 'the -spazzums', which was generally accompanied with inflammation of the -nose, and required to be constantly treated with peppermint; secondly, -that something peculiar in the temperature of my pantry, made the -brandy-bottles burst; thirdly, that I was alone in the world, and much -given to record that circumstance in fragments of English versification. - -On the day when I was articled, no festivity took place, beyond my -having sandwiches and sherry into the office for the clerks, and going -alone to the theatre at night. I went to see The Stranger, as a Doctors' -Commons sort of play, and was so dreadfully cut up, that I hardly knew -myself in my own glass when I got home. Mr. Spenlow remarked, on this -occasion, when we concluded our business, that he should have been -happy to have seen me at his house at Norwood to celebrate our becoming -connected, but for his domestic arrangements being in some disorder, -on account of the expected return of his daughter from finishing her -education at Paris. But, he intimated that when she came home he should -hope to have the pleasure of entertaining me. I knew that he was a -widower with one daughter, and expressed my acknowledgements. - -Mr. Spenlow was as good as his word. In a week or two, he referred to -this engagement, and said, that if I would do him the favour to come -down next Saturday, and stay till Monday, he would be extremely happy. -Of course I said I would do him the favour; and he was to drive me down -in his phaeton, and to bring me back. - -When the day arrived, my very carpet-bag was an object of veneration -to the stipendiary clerks, to whom the house at Norwood was a sacred -mystery. One of them informed me that he had heard that Mr. Spenlow -ate entirely off plate and china; and another hinted at champagne being -constantly on draught, after the usual custom of table-beer. The old -clerk with the wig, whose name was Mr. Tiffey, had been down on business -several times in the course of his career, and had on each occasion -penetrated to the breakfast-parlour. He described it as an apartment of -the most sumptuous nature, and said that he had drunk brown East India -sherry there, of a quality so precious as to make a man wink. We had -an adjourned cause in the Consistory that day--about excommunicating a -baker who had been objecting in a vestry to a paving-rate--and as the -evidence was just twice the length of Robinson Crusoe, according to a -calculation I made, it was rather late in the day before we finished. -However, we got him excommunicated for six weeks, and sentenced in -no end of costs; and then the baker's proctor, and the judge, and the -advocates on both sides (who were all nearly related), went out of town -together, and Mr. Spenlow and I drove away in the phaeton. - -The phaeton was a very handsome affair; the horses arched their necks -and lifted up their legs as if they knew they belonged to Doctors' -Commons. There was a good deal of competition in the Commons on all -points of display, and it turned out some very choice equipages then; -though I always have considered, and always shall consider, that in my -time the great article of competition there was starch: which I think -was worn among the proctors to as great an extent as it is in the nature -of man to bear. - -We were very pleasant, going down, and Mr. Spenlow gave me some hints in -reference to my profession. He said it was the genteelest profession in -the world, and must on no account be confounded with the profession of a -solicitor: being quite another sort of thing, infinitely more exclusive, -less mechanical, and more profitable. We took things much more easily -in the Commons than they could be taken anywhere else, he observed, and -that set us, as a privileged class, apart. He said it was impossible -to conceal the disagreeable fact, that we were chiefly employed by -solicitors; but he gave me to understand that they were an inferior race -of men, universally looked down upon by all proctors of any pretensions. - -I asked Mr. Spenlow what he considered the best sort of professional -business? He replied, that a good case of a disputed will, where there -was a neat little estate of thirty or forty thousand pounds, was, -perhaps, the best of all. In such a case, he said, not only were there -very pretty pickings, in the way of arguments at every stage of the -proceedings, and mountains upon mountains of evidence on interrogatory -and counter-interrogatory (to say nothing of an appeal lying, first to -the Delegates, and then to the Lords), but, the costs being pretty sure -to come out of the estate at last, both sides went at it in a lively -and spirited manner, and expense was no consideration. Then, he launched -into a general eulogium on the Commons. What was to be particularly -admired (he said) in the Commons, was its compactness. It was the most -conveniently organized place in the world. It was the complete idea of -snugness. It lay in a nutshell. For example: You brought a divorce case, -or a restitution case, into the Consistory. Very good. You tried it in -the Consistory. You made a quiet little round game of it, among a family -group, and you played it out at leisure. Suppose you were not satisfied -with the Consistory, what did you do then? Why, you went into the -Arches. What was the Arches? The same court, in the same room, with the -same bar, and the same practitioners, but another judge, for there the -Consistory judge could plead any court-day as an advocate. Well, you -played your round game out again. Still you were not satisfied. Very -good. What did you do then? Why, you went to the Delegates. Who were the -Delegates? Why, the Ecclesiastical Delegates were the advocates without -any business, who had looked on at the round game when it was playing in -both courts, and had seen the cards shuffled, and cut, and played, and -had talked to all the players about it, and now came fresh, as judges, -to settle the matter to the satisfaction of everybody! Discontented -people might talk of corruption in the Commons, closeness in the -Commons, and the necessity of reforming the Commons, said Mr. Spenlow -solemnly, in conclusion; but when the price of wheat per bushel had been -highest, the Commons had been busiest; and a man might lay his hand upon -his heart, and say this to the whole world,--'Touch the Commons, and -down comes the country!' - -I listened to all this with attention; and though, I must say, I had my -doubts whether the country was quite as much obliged to the Commons as -Mr. Spenlow made out, I respectfully deferred to his opinion. That -about the price of wheat per bushel, I modestly felt was too much for -my strength, and quite settled the question. I have never, to this hour, -got the better of that bushel of wheat. It has reappeared to annihilate -me, all through my life, in connexion with all kinds of subjects. I -don't know now, exactly, what it has to do with me, or what right it has -to crush me, on an infinite variety of occasions; but whenever I see my -old friend the bushel brought in by the head and shoulders (as he always -is, I observe), I give up a subject for lost. - -This is a digression. I was not the man to touch the Commons, and -bring down the country. I submissively expressed, by my silence, my -acquiescence in all I had heard from my superior in years and knowledge; -and we talked about The Stranger and the Drama, and the pairs of horses, -until we came to Mr. Spenlow's gate. - -There was a lovely garden to Mr. Spenlow's house; and though that was -not the best time of the year for seeing a garden, it was so beautifully -kept, that I was quite enchanted. There was a charming lawn, there were -clusters of trees, and there were perspective walks that I could just -distinguish in the dark, arched over with trellis-work, on which shrubs -and flowers grew in the growing season. 'Here Miss Spenlow walks by -herself,' I thought. 'Dear me!' - -We went into the house, which was cheerfully lighted up, and into a hall -where there were all sorts of hats, caps, great-coats, plaids, gloves, -whips, and walking-sticks. 'Where is Miss Dora?' said Mr. Spenlow to the -servant. 'Dora!' I thought. 'What a beautiful name!' - -We turned into a room near at hand (I think it was the identical -breakfast-room, made memorable by the brown East Indian sherry), and I -heard a voice say, 'Mr. Copperfield, my daughter Dora, and my daughter -Dora's confidential friend!' It was, no doubt, Mr. Spenlow's voice, -but I didn't know it, and I didn't care whose it was. All was over in a -moment. I had fulfilled my destiny. I was a captive and a slave. I loved -Dora Spenlow to distraction! - -She was more than human to me. She was a Fairy, a Sylph, I don't -know what she was--anything that no one ever saw, and everything that -everybody ever wanted. I was swallowed up in an abyss of love in an -instant. There was no pausing on the brink; no looking down, or looking -back; I was gone, headlong, before I had sense to say a word to her. - -'I,' observed a well-remembered voice, when I had bowed and murmured -something, 'have seen Mr. Copperfield before.' - -The speaker was not Dora. No; the confidential friend, Miss Murdstone! - -I don't think I was much astonished. To the best of my judgement, -no capacity of astonishment was left in me. There was nothing worth -mentioning in the material world, but Dora Spenlow, to be astonished -about. I said, 'How do you do, Miss Murdstone? I hope you are well.' She -answered, 'Very well.' I said, 'How is Mr. Murdstone?' She replied, 'My -brother is robust, I am obliged to you.' - -Mr. Spenlow, who, I suppose, had been surprised to see us recognize each -other, then put in his word. - -'I am glad to find,' he said, 'Copperfield, that you and Miss Murdstone -are already acquainted.' - -'Mr. Copperfield and myself,' said Miss Murdstone, with severe -composure, 'are connexions. We were once slightly acquainted. It was in -his childish days. Circumstances have separated us since. I should not -have known him.' - -I replied that I should have known her, anywhere. Which was true enough. - -'Miss Murdstone has had the goodness,' said Mr. Spenlow to me, 'to -accept the office--if I may so describe it--of my daughter Dora's -confidential friend. My daughter Dora having, unhappily, no mother, Miss -Murdstone is obliging enough to become her companion and protector.' - -A passing thought occurred to me that Miss Murdstone, like the pocket -instrument called a life-preserver, was not so much designed for -purposes of protection as of assault. But as I had none but passing -thoughts for any subject save Dora, I glanced at her, directly -afterwards, and was thinking that I saw, in her prettily pettish manner, -that she was not very much inclined to be particularly confidential to -her companion and protector, when a bell rang, which Mr. Spenlow said -was the first dinner-bell, and so carried me off to dress. - -The idea of dressing one's self, or doing anything in the way of action, -in that state of love, was a little too ridiculous. I could only sit -down before my fire, biting the key of my carpet-bag, and think of the -captivating, girlish, bright-eyed lovely Dora. What a form she had, what -a face she had, what a graceful, variable, enchanting manner! - -The bell rang again so soon that I made a mere scramble of my dressing, -instead of the careful operation I could have wished under the -circumstances, and went downstairs. There was some company. Dora was -talking to an old gentleman with a grey head. Grey as he was--and a -great-grandfather into the bargain, for he said so--I was madly jealous -of him. - -What a state of mind I was in! I was jealous of everybody. I couldn't -bear the idea of anybody knowing Mr. Spenlow better than I did. It was -torturing to me to hear them talk of occurrences in which I had had no -share. When a most amiable person, with a highly polished bald head, -asked me across the dinner table, if that were the first occasion of my -seeing the grounds, I could have done anything to him that was savage -and revengeful. - -I don't remember who was there, except Dora. I have not the least idea -what we had for dinner, besides Dora. My impression is, that I dined off -Dora, entirely, and sent away half-a-dozen plates untouched. I sat next -to her. I talked to her. She had the most delightful little voice, the -gayest little laugh, the pleasantest and most fascinating little -ways, that ever led a lost youth into hopeless slavery. She was rather -diminutive altogether. So much the more precious, I thought. - -When she went out of the room with Miss Murdstone (no other ladies -were of the party), I fell into a reverie, only disturbed by the cruel -apprehension that Miss Murdstone would disparage me to her. The amiable -creature with the polished head told me a long story, which I think was -about gardening. I think I heard him say, 'my gardener', several times. -I seemed to pay the deepest attention to him, but I was wandering in a -garden of Eden all the while, with Dora. - -My apprehensions of being disparaged to the object of my engrossing -affection were revived when we went into the drawing-room, by the grim -and distant aspect of Miss Murdstone. But I was relieved of them in an -unexpected manner. - -'David Copperfield,' said Miss Murdstone, beckoning me aside into a -window. 'A word.' - -I confronted Miss Murdstone alone. - -'David Copperfield,' said Miss Murdstone, 'I need not enlarge upon -family circumstances. They are not a tempting subject.' 'Far from it, -ma'am,' I returned. - -'Far from it,' assented Miss Murdstone. 'I do not wish to revive -the memory of past differences, or of past outrages. I have received -outrages from a person--a female I am sorry to say, for the credit of my -sex--who is not to be mentioned without scorn and disgust; and therefore -I would rather not mention her.' - -I felt very fiery on my aunt's account; but I said it would certainly be -better, if Miss Murdstone pleased, not to mention her. I could not hear -her disrespectfully mentioned, I added, without expressing my opinion in -a decided tone. - -Miss Murdstone shut her eyes, and disdainfully inclined her head; then, -slowly opening her eyes, resumed: - -'David Copperfield, I shall not attempt to disguise the fact, that I -formed an unfavourable opinion of you in your childhood. It may have -been a mistaken one, or you may have ceased to justify it. That is not -in question between us now. I belong to a family remarkable, I believe, -for some firmness; and I am not the creature of circumstance or change. -I may have my opinion of you. You may have your opinion of me.' - -I inclined my head, in my turn. - -'But it is not necessary,' said Miss Murdstone, 'that these opinions -should come into collision here. Under existing circumstances, it is as -well on all accounts that they should not. As the chances of life have -brought us together again, and may bring us together on other occasions, -I would say, let us meet here as distant acquaintances. Family -circumstances are a sufficient reason for our only meeting on that -footing, and it is quite unnecessary that either of us should make the -other the subject of remark. Do you approve of this?' - -'Miss Murdstone,' I returned, 'I think you and Mr. Murdstone used me -very cruelly, and treated my mother with great unkindness. I shall -always think so, as long as I live. But I quite agree in what you -propose.' - -Miss Murdstone shut her eyes again, and bent her head. Then, just -touching the back of my hand with the tips of her cold, stiff fingers, -she walked away, arranging the little fetters on her wrists and round -her neck; which seemed to be the same set, in exactly the same state, -as when I had seen her last. These reminded me, in reference to Miss -Murdstone's nature, of the fetters over a jail door; suggesting on the -outside, to all beholders, what was to be expected within. - -All I know of the rest of the evening is, that I heard the empress of -my heart sing enchanted ballads in the French language, generally to the -effect that, whatever was the matter, we ought always to dance, Ta ra -la, Ta ra la! accompanying herself on a glorified instrument, resembling -a guitar. That I was lost in blissful delirium. That I refused -refreshment. That my soul recoiled from punch particularly. That when -Miss Murdstone took her into custody and led her away, she smiled and -gave me her delicious hand. That I caught a view of myself in a mirror, -looking perfectly imbecile and idiotic. That I retired to bed in a most -maudlin state of mind, and got up in a crisis of feeble infatuation. - -It was a fine morning, and early, and I thought I would go and take a -stroll down one of those wire-arched walks, and indulge my passion by -dwelling on her image. On my way through the hall, I encountered her -little dog, who was called Jip--short for Gipsy. I approached him -tenderly, for I loved even him; but he showed his whole set of teeth, -got under a chair expressly to snarl, and wouldn't hear of the least -familiarity. - -The garden was cool and solitary. I walked about, wondering what my -feelings of happiness would be, if I could ever become engaged to this -dear wonder. As to marriage, and fortune, and all that, I believe I was -almost as innocently undesigning then, as when I loved little Em'ly. To -be allowed to call her 'Dora', to write to her, to dote upon and worship -her, to have reason to think that when she was with other people she was -yet mindful of me, seemed to me the summit of human ambition--I am -sure it was the summit of mine. There is no doubt whatever that I was -a lackadaisical young spooney; but there was a purity of heart in all -this, that prevents my having quite a contemptuous recollection of it, -let me laugh as I may. - -I had not been walking long, when I turned a corner, and met her. I -tingle again from head to foot as my recollection turns that corner, and -my pen shakes in my hand. - -'You--are--out early, Miss Spenlow,' said I. - -'It's so stupid at home,' she replied, 'and Miss Murdstone is so absurd! -She talks such nonsense about its being necessary for the day to be -aired, before I come out. Aired!' (She laughed, here, in the most -melodious manner.) 'On a Sunday morning, when I don't practise, I must -do something. So I told papa last night I must come out. Besides, it's -the brightest time of the whole day. Don't you think so?' - -I hazarded a bold flight, and said (not without stammering) that it -was very bright to me then, though it had been very dark to me a minute -before. - -'Do you mean a compliment?' said Dora, 'or that the weather has really -changed?' - -I stammered worse than before, in replying that I meant no compliment, -but the plain truth; though I was not aware of any change having taken -place in the weather. It was in the state of my own feelings, I added -bashfully: to clench the explanation. - -I never saw such curls--how could I, for there never were such -curls!--as those she shook out to hide her blushes. As to the straw hat -and blue ribbons which was on the top of the curls, if I could only have -hung it up in my room in Buckingham Street, what a priceless possession -it would have been! - -'You have just come home from Paris,' said I. - -'Yes,' said she. 'Have you ever been there?' - -'No.' - -'Oh! I hope you'll go soon! You would like it so much!' - -Traces of deep-seated anguish appeared in my countenance. That she -should hope I would go, that she should think it possible I could go, -was insupportable. I depreciated Paris; I depreciated France. I said I -wouldn't leave England, under existing circumstances, for any earthly -consideration. Nothing should induce me. In short, she was shaking the -curls again, when the little dog came running along the walk to our -relief. - -He was mortally jealous of me, and persisted in barking at me. She took -him up in her arms--oh my goodness!--and caressed him, but he persisted -upon barking still. He wouldn't let me touch him, when I tried; and then -she beat him. It increased my sufferings greatly to see the pats she -gave him for punishment on the bridge of his blunt nose, while he winked -his eyes, and licked her hand, and still growled within himself like a -little double-bass. At length he was quiet--well he might be with her -dimpled chin upon his head!--and we walked away to look at a greenhouse. - -'You are not very intimate with Miss Murdstone, are you?' said Dora. ---'My pet.' - -(The two last words were to the dog. Oh, if they had only been to me!) - -'No,' I replied. 'Not at all so.' - -'She is a tiresome creature,' said Dora, pouting. 'I can't think what -papa can have been about, when he chose such a vexatious thing to be my -companion. Who wants a protector? I am sure I don't want a protector. -Jip can protect me a great deal better than Miss Murdstone,--can't you, -Jip, dear?' - -He only winked lazily, when she kissed his ball of a head. - -'Papa calls her my confidential friend, but I am sure she is no such -thing--is she, Jip? We are not going to confide in any such cross -people, Jip and I. We mean to bestow our confidence where we like, -and to find out our own friends, instead of having them found out for -us--don't we, Jip?' - -Jip made a comfortable noise, in answer, a little like a tea-kettle when -it sings. As for me, every word was a new heap of fetters, riveted above -the last. - -'It is very hard, because we have not a kind Mama, that we are to have, -instead, a sulky, gloomy old thing like Miss Murdstone, always following -us about--isn't it, Jip? Never mind, Jip. We won't be confidential, and -we'll make ourselves as happy as we can in spite of her, and we'll tease -her, and not please her--won't we, Jip?' - -If it had lasted any longer, I think I must have gone down on my knees -on the gravel, with the probability before me of grazing them, and of -being presently ejected from the premises besides. But, by good fortune -the greenhouse was not far off, and these words brought us to it. - -It contained quite a show of beautiful geraniums. We loitered along in -front of them, and Dora often stopped to admire this one or that one, -and I stopped to admire the same one, and Dora, laughing, held the dog -up childishly, to smell the flowers; and if we were not all three in -Fairyland, certainly I was. The scent of a geranium leaf, at this day, -strikes me with a half comical half serious wonder as to what change has -come over me in a moment; and then I see a straw hat and blue ribbons, -and a quantity of curls, and a little black dog being held up, in two -slender arms, against a bank of blossoms and bright leaves. - -Miss Murdstone had been looking for us. She found us here; and presented -her uncongenial cheek, the little wrinkles in it filled with hair -powder, to Dora to be kissed. Then she took Dora's arm in hers, and -marched us into breakfast as if it were a soldier's funeral. - -How many cups of tea I drank, because Dora made it, I don't know. But, -I perfectly remember that I sat swilling tea until my whole nervous -system, if I had had any in those days, must have gone by the board. By -and by we went to church. Miss Murdstone was between Dora and me in the -pew; but I heard her sing, and the congregation vanished. A sermon was -delivered--about Dora, of course--and I am afraid that is all I know of -the service. - -We had a quiet day. No company, a walk, a family dinner of four, and an -evening of looking over books and pictures; Miss Murdstone with a homily -before her, and her eye upon us, keeping guard vigilantly. Ah! little -did Mr. Spenlow imagine, when he sat opposite to me after dinner that -day, with his pocket-handkerchief over his head, how fervently I was -embracing him, in my fancy, as his son-in-law! Little did he think, when -I took leave of him at night, that he had just given his full consent to -my being engaged to Dora, and that I was invoking blessings on his head! - -We departed early in the morning, for we had a Salvage case coming on in -the Admiralty Court, requiring a rather accurate knowledge of the whole -science of navigation, in which (as we couldn't be expected to know -much about those matters in the Commons) the judge had entreated two old -Trinity Masters, for charity's sake, to come and help him out. Dora was -at the breakfast-table to make the tea again, however; and I had the -melancholy pleasure of taking off my hat to her in the phaeton, as she -stood on the door-step with Jip in her arms. - -What the Admiralty was to me that day; what nonsense I made of our case -in my mind, as I listened to it; how I saw 'DORA' engraved upon the -blade of the silver oar which they lay upon the table, as the emblem -of that high jurisdiction; and how I felt when Mr. Spenlow went home -without me (I had had an insane hope that he might take me back again), -as if I were a mariner myself, and the ship to which I belonged had -sailed away and left me on a desert island; I shall make no fruitless -effort to describe. If that sleepy old court could rouse itself, and -present in any visible form the daydreams I have had in it about Dora, -it would reveal my truth. - -I don't mean the dreams that I dreamed on that day alone, but day after -day, from week to week, and term to term. I went there, not to attend to -what was going on, but to think about Dora. If ever I bestowed a thought -upon the cases, as they dragged their slow length before me, it was only -to wonder, in the matrimonial cases (remembering Dora), how it was -that married people could ever be otherwise than happy; and, in the -Prerogative cases, to consider, if the money in question had been left -to me, what were the foremost steps I should immediately have taken -in regard to Dora. Within the first week of my passion, I bought four -sumptuous waistcoats--not for myself; I had no pride in them; for -Dora--and took to wearing straw-coloured kid gloves in the streets, and -laid the foundations of all the corns I have ever had. If the boots I -wore at that period could only be produced and compared with the natural -size of my feet, they would show what the state of my heart was, in a -most affecting manner. - -And yet, wretched cripple as I made myself by this act of homage to -Dora, I walked miles upon miles daily in the hope of seeing her. Not -only was I soon as well known on the Norwood Road as the postmen on that -beat, but I pervaded London likewise. I walked about the streets where -the best shops for ladies were, I haunted the Bazaar like an unquiet -spirit, I fagged through the Park again and again, long after I was -quite knocked up. Sometimes, at long intervals and on rare occasions, I -saw her. Perhaps I saw her glove waved in a carriage window; perhaps I -met her, walked with her and Miss Murdstone a little way, and spoke to -her. In the latter case I was always very miserable afterwards, to think -that I had said nothing to the purpose; or that she had no idea of the -extent of my devotion, or that she cared nothing about me. I was always -looking out, as may be supposed, for another invitation to Mr. Spenlow's -house. I was always being disappointed, for I got none. - -Mrs. Crupp must have been a woman of penetration; for when this -attachment was but a few weeks old, and I had not had the courage -to write more explicitly even to Agnes, than that I had been to Mr. -Spenlow's house, 'whose family,' I added, 'consists of one daughter';--I -say Mrs. Crupp must have been a woman of penetration, for, even in that -early stage, she found it out. She came up to me one evening, when I -was very low, to ask (she being then afflicted with the disorder I have -mentioned) if I could oblige her with a little tincture of cardamums -mixed with rhubarb, and flavoured with seven drops of the essence of -cloves, which was the best remedy for her complaint;--or, if I had not -such a thing by me, with a little brandy, which was the next best. It -was not, she remarked, so palatable to her, but it was the next best. As -I had never even heard of the first remedy, and always had the second in -the closet, I gave Mrs. Crupp a glass of the second, which (that I might -have no suspicion of its being devoted to any improper use) she began to -take in my presence. - -'Cheer up, sir,' said Mrs. Crupp. 'I can't abear to see you so, sir: I'm -a mother myself.' - -I did not quite perceive the application of this fact to myself, but I -smiled on Mrs. Crupp, as benignly as was in my power. - -'Come, sir,' said Mrs. Crupp. 'Excuse me. I know what it is, sir. -There's a lady in the case.' - -'Mrs. Crupp?' I returned, reddening. - -'Oh, bless you! Keep a good heart, sir!' said Mrs. Crupp, nodding -encouragement. 'Never say die, sir! If She don't smile upon you, -there's a many as will. You are a young gentleman to be smiled on, Mr. -Copperfull, and you must learn your walue, sir.' - -Mrs. Crupp always called me Mr. Copperfull: firstly, no doubt, because -it was not my name; and secondly, I am inclined to think, in some -indistinct association with a washing-day. - -'What makes you suppose there is any young lady in the case, Mrs. -Crupp?' said I. - -'Mr. Copperfull,' said Mrs. Crupp, with a great deal of feeling, 'I'm a -mother myself.' - -For some time Mrs. Crupp could only lay her hand upon her nankeen bosom, -and fortify herself against returning pain with sips of her medicine. At -length she spoke again. - -'When the present set were took for you by your dear aunt, Mr. -Copperfull,' said Mrs. Crupp, 'my remark were, I had now found summun -I could care for. "Thank Ev'in!" were the expression, "I have now found -summun I can care for!"--You don't eat enough, sir, nor yet drink.' - -'Is that what you found your supposition on, Mrs. Crupp?' said I. - -'Sir,' said Mrs. Crupp, in a tone approaching to severity, 'I've -laundressed other young gentlemen besides yourself. A young gentleman -may be over-careful of himself, or he may be under-careful of himself. -He may brush his hair too regular, or too un-regular. He may wear his -boots much too large for him, or much too small. That is according as -the young gentleman has his original character formed. But let him go to -which extreme he may, sir, there's a young lady in both of 'em.' - -Mrs. Crupp shook her head in such a determined manner, that I had not an -inch of vantage-ground left. - -'It was but the gentleman which died here before yourself,' said Mrs. -Crupp, 'that fell in love--with a barmaid--and had his waistcoats took -in directly, though much swelled by drinking.' - -'Mrs. Crupp,' said I, 'I must beg you not to connect the young lady in -my case with a barmaid, or anything of that sort, if you please.' - -'Mr. Copperfull,' returned Mrs. Crupp, 'I'm a mother myself, and not -likely. I ask your pardon, sir, if I intrude. I should never wish to -intrude where I were not welcome. But you are a young gentleman, Mr. -Copperfull, and my adwice to you is, to cheer up, sir, to keep a good -heart, and to know your own walue. If you was to take to something, -sir,' said Mrs. Crupp, 'if you was to take to skittles, now, which is -healthy, you might find it divert your mind, and do you good.' - -With these words, Mrs. Crupp, affecting to be very careful of the -brandy--which was all gone--thanked me with a majestic curtsey, and -retired. As her figure disappeared into the gloom of the entry, this -counsel certainly presented itself to my mind in the light of a slight -liberty on Mrs. Crupp's part; but, at the same time, I was content -to receive it, in another point of view, as a word to the wise, and a -warning in future to keep my secret better. - - - -CHAPTER 27. TOMMY TRADDLES - - -It may have been in consequence of Mrs. Crupp's advice, and, perhaps, -for no better reason than because there was a certain similarity in the -sound of the word skittles and Traddles, that it came into my head, next -day, to go and look after Traddles. The time he had mentioned was more -than out, and he lived in a little street near the Veterinary College -at Camden Town, which was principally tenanted, as one of our clerks who -lived in that direction informed me, by gentlemen students, who bought -live donkeys, and made experiments on those quadrupeds in their private -apartments. Having obtained from this clerk a direction to the academic -grove in question, I set out, the same afternoon, to visit my old -schoolfellow. - -I found that the street was not as desirable a one as I could have -wished it to be, for the sake of Traddles. The inhabitants appeared to -have a propensity to throw any little trifles they were not in want of, -into the road: which not only made it rank and sloppy, but untidy too, -on account of the cabbage-leaves. The refuse was not wholly vegetable -either, for I myself saw a shoe, a doubled-up saucepan, a black bonnet, -and an umbrella, in various stages of decomposition, as I was looking -out for the number I wanted. - -The general air of the place reminded me forcibly of the days when I -lived with Mr. and Mrs. Micawber. An indescribable character of faded -gentility that attached to the house I sought, and made it unlike -all the other houses in the street--though they were all built on one -monotonous pattern, and looked like the early copies of a blundering boy -who was learning to make houses, and had not yet got out of his cramped -brick-and-mortar pothooks--reminded me still more of Mr. and Mrs. -Micawber. Happening to arrive at the door as it was opened to the -afternoon milkman, I was reminded of Mr. and Mrs. Micawber more forcibly -yet. - -'Now,' said the milkman to a very youthful servant girl. 'Has that there -little bill of mine been heerd on?' - -'Oh, master says he'll attend to it immediate,' was the reply. - -'Because,' said the milkman, going on as if he had received no answer, -and speaking, as I judged from his tone, rather for the edification of -somebody within the house, than of the youthful servant--an -impression which was strengthened by his manner of glaring down the -passage--'because that there little bill has been running so long, that -I begin to believe it's run away altogether, and never won't be heerd -of. Now, I'm not a going to stand it, you know!' said the milkman, still -throwing his voice into the house, and glaring down the passage. - -As to his dealing in the mild article of milk, by the by, there never -was a greater anomaly. His deportment would have been fierce in a -butcher or a brandy-merchant. - -The voice of the youthful servant became faint, but she seemed to me, -from the action of her lips, again to murmur that it would be attended -to immediate. - -'I tell you what,' said the milkman, looking hard at her for the first -time, and taking her by the chin, 'are you fond of milk?' - -'Yes, I likes it,' she replied. 'Good,' said the milkman. 'Then you -won't have none tomorrow. D'ye hear? Not a fragment of milk you won't -have tomorrow.' - -I thought she seemed, upon the whole, relieved by the prospect of having -any today. The milkman, after shaking his head at her darkly, released -her chin, and with anything rather than good-will opened his can, and -deposited the usual quantity in the family jug. This done, he went away, -muttering, and uttered the cry of his trade next door, in a vindictive -shriek. - -'Does Mr. Traddles live here?' I then inquired. - -A mysterious voice from the end of the passage replied 'Yes.' Upon which -the youthful servant replied 'Yes.' - -'Is he at home?' said I. - -Again the mysterious voice replied in the affirmative, and again the -servant echoed it. Upon this, I walked in, and in pursuance of the -servant's directions walked upstairs; conscious, as I passed the -back parlour-door, that I was surveyed by a mysterious eye, probably -belonging to the mysterious voice. - -When I got to the top of the stairs--the house was only a story high -above the ground floor--Traddles was on the landing to meet me. He was -delighted to see me, and gave me welcome, with great heartiness, to -his little room. It was in the front of the house, and extremely neat, -though sparely furnished. It was his only room, I saw; for there was a -sofa-bedstead in it, and his blacking-brushes and blacking were among -his books--on the top shelf, behind a dictionary. His table was covered -with papers, and he was hard at work in an old coat. I looked at -nothing, that I know of, but I saw everything, even to the prospect of -a church upon his china inkstand, as I sat down--and this, too, was a -faculty confirmed in me in the old Micawber times. Various ingenious -arrangements he had made, for the disguise of his chest of drawers, -and the accommodation of his boots, his shaving-glass, and so forth, -particularly impressed themselves upon me, as evidences of the same -Traddles who used to make models of elephants' dens in writing-paper to -put flies in; and to comfort himself under ill usage, with the memorable -works of art I have so often mentioned. - -In a corner of the room was something neatly covered up with a large -white cloth. I could not make out what that was. - -'Traddles,' said I, shaking hands with him again, after I had sat down, -'I am delighted to see you.' - -'I am delighted to see YOU, Copperfield,' he returned. 'I am very glad -indeed to see you. It was because I was thoroughly glad to see you when -we met in Ely Place, and was sure you were thoroughly glad to see me, -that I gave you this address instead of my address at chambers.' 'Oh! -You have chambers?' said I. - -'Why, I have the fourth of a room and a passage, and the fourth of a -clerk,' returned Traddles. 'Three others and myself unite to have a -set of chambers--to look business-like--and we quarter the clerk too. -Half-a-crown a week he costs me.' - -His old simple character and good temper, and something of his old -unlucky fortune also, I thought, smiled at me in the smile with which he -made this explanation. - -'It's not because I have the least pride, Copperfield, you understand,' -said Traddles, 'that I don't usually give my address here. It's only on -account of those who come to me, who might not like to come here. For -myself, I am fighting my way on in the world against difficulties, and -it would be ridiculous if I made a pretence of doing anything else.' - -'You are reading for the bar, Mr. Waterbrook informed me?' said I. - -'Why, yes,' said Traddles, rubbing his hands slowly over one another. 'I -am reading for the bar. The fact is, I have just begun to keep my terms, -after rather a long delay. It's some time since I was articled, but the -payment of that hundred pounds was a great pull. A great pull!' said -Traddles, with a wince, as if he had had a tooth out. - -'Do you know what I can't help thinking of, Traddles, as I sit here -looking at you?' I asked him. - -'No,' said he. - -'That sky-blue suit you used to wear.' - -'Lord, to be sure!' cried Traddles, laughing. 'Tight in the arms and -legs, you know? Dear me! Well! Those were happy times, weren't they?' - -'I think our schoolmaster might have made them happier, without doing -any harm to any of us, I acknowledge,' I returned. - -'Perhaps he might,' said Traddles. 'But dear me, there was a good deal -of fun going on. Do you remember the nights in the bedroom? When we used -to have the suppers? And when you used to tell the stories? Ha, ha, -ha! And do you remember when I got caned for crying about Mr. Mell? Old -Creakle! I should like to see him again, too!' - -'He was a brute to you, Traddles,' said I, indignantly; for his good -humour made me feel as if I had seen him beaten but yesterday. - -'Do you think so?' returned Traddles. 'Really? Perhaps he was rather. -But it's all over, a long while. Old Creakle!' - -'You were brought up by an uncle, then?' said I. - -'Of course I was!' said Traddles. 'The one I was always going to write -to. And always didn't, eh! Ha, ha, ha! Yes, I had an uncle then. He died -soon after I left school.' - -'Indeed!' - -'Yes. He was a retired--what do you call -it!--draper--cloth-merchant--and had made me his heir. But he didn't -like me when I grew up.' - -'Do you really mean that?' said I. He was so composed, that I fancied he -must have some other meaning. - -'Oh dear, yes, Copperfield! I mean it,' replied Traddles. 'It was an -unfortunate thing, but he didn't like me at all. He said I wasn't at all -what he expected, and so he married his housekeeper.' - -'And what did you do?' I asked. - -'I didn't do anything in particular,' said Traddles. 'I lived with them, -waiting to be put out in the world, until his gout unfortunately flew -to his stomach--and so he died, and so she married a young man, and so I -wasn't provided for.' - -'Did you get nothing, Traddles, after all?' - -'Oh dear, yes!' said Traddles. 'I got fifty pounds. I had never been -brought up to any profession, and at first I was at a loss what to -do for myself. However, I began, with the assistance of the son of a -professional man, who had been to Salem House--Yawler, with his nose on -one side. Do you recollect him?' - -No. He had not been there with me; all the noses were straight in my -day. - -'It don't matter,' said Traddles. 'I began, by means of his assistance, -to copy law writings. That didn't answer very well; and then I began to -state cases for them, and make abstracts, and that sort of work. For -I am a plodding kind of fellow, Copperfield, and had learnt the way of -doing such things pithily. Well! That put it in my head to enter myself -as a law student; and that ran away with all that was left of the fifty -pounds. Yawler recommended me to one or two other offices, however--Mr. -Waterbrook's for one--and I got a good many jobs. I was fortunate -enough, too, to become acquainted with a person in the publishing way, -who was getting up an Encyclopaedia, and he set me to work; and, indeed' -(glancing at his table), 'I am at work for him at this minute. I am not -a bad compiler, Copperfield,' said Traddles, preserving the same air of -cheerful confidence in all he said, 'but I have no invention at all; not -a particle. I suppose there never was a young man with less originality -than I have.' - -As Traddles seemed to expect that I should assent to this as a matter -of course, I nodded; and he went on, with the same sprightly patience--I -can find no better expression--as before. - -'So, by little and little, and not living high, I managed to scrape up -the hundred pounds at last,' said Traddles; 'and thank Heaven that's -paid--though it was--though it certainly was,' said Traddles, wincing -again as if he had had another tooth out, 'a pull. I am living by the -sort of work I have mentioned, still, and I hope, one of these days, to -get connected with some newspaper: which would almost be the making of -my fortune. Now, Copperfield, you are so exactly what you used to -be, with that agreeable face, and it's so pleasant to see you, that I -sha'n't conceal anything. Therefore you must know that I am engaged.' - -Engaged! Oh, Dora! - -'She is a curate's daughter,' said Traddles; 'one of ten, down in -Devonshire. Yes!' For he saw me glance, involuntarily, at the prospect -on the inkstand. 'That's the church! You come round here to the left, -out of this gate,' tracing his finger along the inkstand, 'and exactly -where I hold this pen, there stands the house--facing, you understand, -towards the church.' - -The delight with which he entered into these particulars, did not fully -present itself to me until afterwards; for my selfish thoughts were -making a ground-plan of Mr. Spenlow's house and garden at the same -moment. - -'She is such a dear girl!' said Traddles; 'a little older than me, but -the dearest girl! I told you I was going out of town? I have been down -there. I walked there, and I walked back, and I had the most delightful -time! I dare say ours is likely to be a rather long engagement, but our -motto is "Wait and hope!" We always say that. "Wait and hope," we always -say. And she would wait, Copperfield, till she was sixty--any age you -can mention--for me!' - -Traddles rose from his chair, and, with a triumphant smile, put his hand -upon the white cloth I had observed. - -'However,' he said, 'it's not that we haven't made a beginning towards -housekeeping. No, no; we have begun. We must get on by degrees, but we -have begun. Here,' drawing the cloth off with great pride and care, 'are -two pieces of furniture to commence with. This flower-pot and stand, -she bought herself. You put that in a parlour window,' said Traddles, -falling a little back from it to survey it with the greater admiration, -'with a plant in it, and--and there you are! This little round table -with the marble top (it's two feet ten in circumference), I bought. You -want to lay a book down, you know, or somebody comes to see you or your -wife, and wants a place to stand a cup of tea upon, and--and there you -are again!' said Traddles. 'It's an admirable piece of workmanship--firm -as a rock!' I praised them both, highly, and Traddles replaced the -covering as carefully as he had removed it. - -'It's not a great deal towards the furnishing,' said Traddles, 'but -it's something. The table-cloths, and pillow-cases, and articles of -that kind, are what discourage me most, Copperfield. So does -the ironmongery--candle-boxes, and gridirons, and that sort of -necessaries--because those things tell, and mount up. However, "wait and -hope!" And I assure you she's the dearest girl!' - -'I am quite certain of it,' said I. - -'In the meantime,' said Traddles, coming back to his chair; 'and this is -the end of my prosing about myself, I get on as well as I can. I don't -make much, but I don't spend much. In general, I board with the people -downstairs, who are very agreeable people indeed. Both Mr. and Mrs. -Micawber have seen a good deal of life, and are excellent company.' - -'My dear Traddles!' I quickly exclaimed. 'What are you talking about?' - -Traddles looked at me, as if he wondered what I was talking about. - -'Mr. and Mrs. Micawber!' I repeated. 'Why, I am intimately acquainted -with them!' - -An opportune double knock at the door, which I knew well from old -experience in Windsor Terrace, and which nobody but Mr. Micawber could -ever have knocked at that door, resolved any doubt in my mind as to -their being my old friends. I begged Traddles to ask his landlord -to walk up. Traddles accordingly did so, over the banister; and Mr. -Micawber, not a bit changed--his tights, his stick, his shirt-collar, -and his eye-glass, all the same as ever--came into the room with a -genteel and youthful air. - -'I beg your pardon, Mr. Traddles,' said Mr. Micawber, with the old roll -in his voice, as he checked himself in humming a soft tune. 'I was not -aware that there was any individual, alien to this tenement, in your -sanctum.' - -Mr. Micawber slightly bowed to me, and pulled up his shirt-collar. - -'How do you do, Mr. Micawber?' said I. - -'Sir,' said Mr. Micawber, 'you are exceedingly obliging. I am in statu -quo.' - -'And Mrs. Micawber?' I pursued. - -'Sir,' said Mr. Micawber, 'she is also, thank God, in statu quo.' - -'And the children, Mr. Micawber?' - -'Sir,' said Mr. Micawber, 'I rejoice to reply that they are, likewise, -in the enjoyment of salubrity.' - -All this time, Mr. Micawber had not known me in the least, though he -had stood face to face with me. But now, seeing me smile, he examined my -features with more attention, fell back, cried, 'Is it possible! Have I -the pleasure of again beholding Copperfield!' and shook me by both hands -with the utmost fervour. - -'Good Heaven, Mr. Traddles!' said Mr. Micawber, 'to think that I should -find you acquainted with the friend of my youth, the companion of -earlier days! My dear!' calling over the banisters to Mrs. Micawber, -while Traddles looked (with reason) not a little amazed at this -description of me. 'Here is a gentleman in Mr. Traddles's apartment, -whom he wishes to have the pleasure of presenting to you, my love!' - -Mr. Micawber immediately reappeared, and shook hands with me again. - -'And how is our good friend the Doctor, Copperfield?' said Mr. Micawber, -'and all the circle at Canterbury?' - -'I have none but good accounts of them,' said I. - -'I am most delighted to hear it,' said Mr. Micawber. 'It was at -Canterbury where we last met. Within the shadow, I may figuratively say, -of that religious edifice immortalized by Chaucer, which was anciently -the resort of Pilgrims from the remotest corners of--in short,' said Mr. -Micawber, 'in the immediate neighbourhood of the Cathedral.' - -I replied that it was. Mr. Micawber continued talking as volubly as he -could; but not, I thought, without showing, by some marks of concern in -his countenance, that he was sensible of sounds in the next room, as -of Mrs. Micawber washing her hands, and hurriedly opening and shutting -drawers that were uneasy in their action. - -'You find us, Copperfield,' said Mr. Micawber, with one eye on Traddles, -'at present established, on what may be designated as a small and -unassuming scale; but, you are aware that I have, in the course of my -career, surmounted difficulties, and conquered obstacles. You are no -stranger to the fact, that there have been periods of my life, when it -has been requisite that I should pause, until certain expected events -should turn up; when it has been necessary that I should fall back, -before making what I trust I shall not be accused of presumption in -terming--a spring. The present is one of those momentous stages in the -life of man. You find me, fallen back, FOR a spring; and I have every -reason to believe that a vigorous leap will shortly be the result.' - -I was expressing my satisfaction, when Mrs. Micawber came in; a little -more slatternly than she used to be, or so she seemed now, to my -unaccustomed eyes, but still with some preparation of herself for -company, and with a pair of brown gloves on. - -'My dear,' said Mr. Micawber, leading her towards me, 'here is -a gentleman of the name of Copperfield, who wishes to renew his -acquaintance with you.' - -It would have been better, as it turned out, to have led gently up -to this announcement, for Mrs. Micawber, being in a delicate state of -health, was overcome by it, and was taken so unwell, that Mr. Micawber -was obliged, in great trepidation, to run down to the water-butt in -the backyard, and draw a basinful to lave her brow with. She -presently revived, however, and was really pleased to see me. We had -half-an-hour's talk, all together; and I asked her about the twins, -who, she said, were 'grown great creatures'; and after Master and Miss -Micawber, whom she described as 'absolute giants', but they were not -produced on that occasion. - -Mr. Micawber was very anxious that I should stay to dinner. I should not -have been averse to do so, but that I imagined I detected trouble, and -calculation relative to the extent of the cold meat, in Mrs. Micawber's -eye. I therefore pleaded another engagement; and observing that Mrs. -Micawber's spirits were immediately lightened, I resisted all persuasion -to forego it. - -But I told Traddles, and Mr. and Mrs. Micawber, that before I could -think of leaving, they must appoint a day when they would come and dine -with me. The occupations to which Traddles stood pledged, rendered it -necessary to fix a somewhat distant one; but an appointment was made for -the purpose, that suited us all, and then I took my leave. - -Mr. Micawber, under pretence of showing me a nearer way than that by -which I had come, accompanied me to the corner of the street; being -anxious (he explained to me) to say a few words to an old friend, in -confidence. - -'My dear Copperfield,' said Mr. Micawber, 'I need hardly tell you that -to have beneath our roof, under existing circumstances, a mind like that -which gleams--if I may be allowed the expression--which gleams--in your -friend Traddles, is an unspeakable comfort. With a washerwoman, who -exposes hard-bake for sale in her parlour-window, dwelling next door, -and a Bow-street officer residing over the way, you may imagine that his -society is a source of consolation to myself and to Mrs. Micawber. I -am at present, my dear Copperfield, engaged in the sale of corn upon -commission. It is not an avocation of a remunerative description--in -other words, it does not pay--and some temporary embarrassments of a -pecuniary nature have been the consequence. I am, however, delighted to -add that I have now an immediate prospect of something turning up (I am -not at liberty to say in what direction), which I trust will enable me -to provide, permanently, both for myself and for your friend Traddles, -in whom I have an unaffected interest. You may, perhaps, be prepared -to hear that Mrs. Micawber is in a state of health which renders it -not wholly improbable that an addition may be ultimately made to those -pledges of affection which--in short, to the infantine group. Mrs. -Micawber's family have been so good as to express their dissatisfaction -at this state of things. I have merely to observe, that I am not aware -that it is any business of theirs, and that I repel that exhibition of -feeling with scorn, and with defiance!' - -Mr. Micawber then shook hands with me again, and left me. - - - -CHAPTER 28. Mr. MICAWBER'S GAUNTLET - - -Until the day arrived on which I was to entertain my newly-found -old friends, I lived principally on Dora and coffee. In my love-lorn -condition, my appetite languished; and I was glad of it, for I felt -as though it would have been an act of perfidy towards Dora to have a -natural relish for my dinner. The quantity of walking exercise I took, -was not in this respect attended with its usual consequence, as the -disappointment counteracted the fresh air. I have my doubts, too, -founded on the acute experience acquired at this period of my life, -whether a sound enjoyment of animal food can develop itself freely in -any human subject who is always in torment from tight boots. I think -the extremities require to be at peace before the stomach will conduct -itself with vigour. - -On the occasion of this domestic little party, I did not repeat my -former extensive preparations. I merely provided a pair of soles, -a small leg of mutton, and a pigeon-pie. Mrs. Crupp broke out into -rebellion on my first bashful hint in reference to the cooking of the -fish and joint, and said, with a dignified sense of injury, 'No! No, -sir! You will not ask me sich a thing, for you are better acquainted -with me than to suppose me capable of doing what I cannot do with ampial -satisfaction to my own feelings!' But, in the end, a compromise was -effected; and Mrs. Crupp consented to achieve this feat, on condition -that I dined from home for a fortnight afterwards. - -And here I may remark, that what I underwent from Mrs. Crupp, in -consequence of the tyranny she established over me, was dreadful. I -never was so much afraid of anyone. We made a compromise of everything. -If I hesitated, she was taken with that wonderful disorder which was -always lying in ambush in her system, ready, at the shortest notice, to -prey upon her vitals. If I rang the bell impatiently, after half-a-dozen -unavailing modest pulls, and she appeared at last--which was not by any -means to be relied upon--she would appear with a reproachful aspect, -sink breathless on a chair near the door, lay her hand upon her nankeen -bosom, and become so ill, that I was glad, at any sacrifice of brandy or -anything else, to get rid of her. If I objected to having my bed made at -five o'clock in the afternoon--which I do still think an uncomfortable -arrangement--one motion of her hand towards the same nankeen region of -wounded sensibility was enough to make me falter an apology. In short, -I would have done anything in an honourable way rather than give Mrs. -Crupp offence; and she was the terror of my life. - -I bought a second-hand dumb-waiter for this dinner-party, in preference -to re-engaging the handy young man; against whom I had conceived a -prejudice, in consequence of meeting him in the Strand, one Sunday -morning, in a waistcoat remarkably like one of mine, which had been -missing since the former occasion. The 'young gal' was re-engaged; but -on the stipulation that she should only bring in the dishes, and then -withdraw to the landing-place, beyond the outer door; where a habit of -sniffing she had contracted would be lost upon the guests, and where her -retiring on the plates would be a physical impossibility. - -Having laid in the materials for a bowl of punch, to be compounded -by Mr. Micawber; having provided a bottle of lavender-water, two -wax-candles, a paper of mixed pins, and a pincushion, to assist Mrs. -Micawber in her toilette at my dressing-table; having also caused the -fire in my bedroom to be lighted for Mrs. Micawber's convenience; and -having laid the cloth with my own hands, I awaited the result with -composure. - -At the appointed time, my three visitors arrived together. Mr. Micawber -with more shirt-collar than usual, and a new ribbon to his eye-glass; -Mrs. Micawber with her cap in a whitey-brown paper parcel; Traddles -carrying the parcel, and supporting Mrs. Micawber on his arm. They were -all delighted with my residence. When I conducted Mrs. Micawber to my -dressing-table, and she saw the scale on which it was prepared for her, -she was in such raptures, that she called Mr. Micawber to come in and -look. - -'My dear Copperfield,' said Mr. Micawber, 'this is luxurious. This is a -way of life which reminds me of the period when I was myself in a state -of celibacy, and Mrs. Micawber had not yet been solicited to plight her -faith at the Hymeneal altar.' - -'He means, solicited by him, Mr. Copperfield,' said Mrs. Micawber, -archly. 'He cannot answer for others.' - -'My dear,' returned Mr. Micawber with sudden seriousness, 'I have no -desire to answer for others. I am too well aware that when, in the -inscrutable decrees of Fate, you were reserved for me, it is possible -you may have been reserved for one, destined, after a protracted -struggle, at length to fall a victim to pecuniary involvements of a -complicated nature. I understand your allusion, my love. I regret it, -but I can bear it.' - -'Micawber!' exclaimed Mrs. Micawber, in tears. 'Have I deserved this! I, -who never have deserted you; who never WILL desert you, Micawber!' 'My -love,' said Mr. Micawber, much affected, 'you will forgive, and our old -and tried friend Copperfield will, I am sure, forgive, the momentary -laceration of a wounded spirit, made sensitive by a recent collision -with the Minion of Power--in other words, with a ribald Turncock -attached to the water-works--and will pity, not condemn, its excesses.' - -Mr. Micawber then embraced Mrs. Micawber, and pressed my hand; leaving -me to infer from this broken allusion that his domestic supply of -water had been cut off that afternoon, in consequence of default in the -payment of the company's rates. - -To divert his thoughts from this melancholy subject, I informed Mr. -Micawber that I relied upon him for a bowl of punch, and led him to -the lemons. His recent despondency, not to say despair, was gone in a -moment. I never saw a man so thoroughly enjoy himself amid the fragrance -of lemon-peel and sugar, the odour of burning rum, and the steam of -boiling water, as Mr. Micawber did that afternoon. It was wonderful to -see his face shining at us out of a thin cloud of these delicate fumes, -as he stirred, and mixed, and tasted, and looked as if he were making, -instead of punch, a fortune for his family down to the latest posterity. -As to Mrs. Micawber, I don't know whether it was the effect of the cap, -or the lavender-water, or the pins, or the fire, or the wax-candles, but -she came out of my room, comparatively speaking, lovely. And the lark -was never gayer than that excellent woman. - -I suppose--I never ventured to inquire, but I suppose--that Mrs. Crupp, -after frying the soles, was taken ill. Because we broke down at that -point. The leg of mutton came up very red within, and very pale without: -besides having a foreign substance of a gritty nature sprinkled over -it, as if if had had a fall into the ashes of that remarkable kitchen -fireplace. But we were not in condition to judge of this fact from the -appearance of the gravy, forasmuch as the 'young gal' had dropped it all -upon the stairs--where it remained, by the by, in a long train, until it -was worn out. The pigeon-pie was not bad, but it was a delusive pie: the -crust being like a disappointing head, phrenologically speaking: full -of lumps and bumps, with nothing particular underneath. In short, the -banquet was such a failure that I should have been quite unhappy--about -the failure, I mean, for I was always unhappy about Dora--if I had not -been relieved by the great good humour of my company, and by a bright -suggestion from Mr. Micawber. - -'My dear friend Copperfield,' said Mr. Micawber, 'accidents will occur -in the best-regulated families; and in families not regulated by that -pervading influence which sanctifies while it enhances the--a--I would -say, in short, by the influence of Woman, in the lofty character of -Wife, they may be expected with confidence, and must be borne with -philosophy. If you will allow me to take the liberty of remarking that -there are few comestibles better, in their way, than a Devil, and that -I believe, with a little division of labour, we could accomplish a good -one if the young person in attendance could produce a gridiron, I would -put it to you, that this little misfortune may be easily repaired.' - -There was a gridiron in the pantry, on which my morning rasher of -bacon was cooked. We had it in, in a twinkling, and immediately applied -ourselves to carrying Mr. Micawber's idea into effect. The division of -labour to which he had referred was this:--Traddles cut the mutton into -slices; Mr. Micawber (who could do anything of this sort to perfection) -covered them with pepper, mustard, salt, and cayenne; I put them on -the gridiron, turned them with a fork, and took them off, under Mr. -Micawber's direction; and Mrs. Micawber heated, and continually stirred, -some mushroom ketchup in a little saucepan. When we had slices enough -done to begin upon, we fell-to, with our sleeves still tucked up at the -wrist, more slices sputtering and blazing on the fire, and our attention -divided between the mutton on our plates, and the mutton then preparing. - -What with the novelty of this cookery, the excellence of it, the bustle -of it, the frequent starting up to look after it, the frequent sitting -down to dispose of it as the crisp slices came off the gridiron hot and -hot, the being so busy, so flushed with the fire, so amused, and in the -midst of such a tempting noise and savour, we reduced the leg of mutton -to the bone. My own appetite came back miraculously. I am ashamed to -record it, but I really believe I forgot Dora for a little while. I am -satisfied that Mr. and Mrs. Micawber could not have enjoyed the -feast more, if they had sold a bed to provide it. Traddles laughed as -heartily, almost the whole time, as he ate and worked. Indeed we all -did, all at once; and I dare say there was never a greater success. - -We were at the height of our enjoyment, and were all busily engaged, in -our several departments, endeavouring to bring the last batch of slices -to a state of perfection that should crown the feast, when I was aware -of a strange presence in the room, and my eyes encountered those of the -staid Littimer, standing hat in hand before me. - -'What's the matter?' I involuntarily asked. - -'I beg your pardon, sir, I was directed to come in. Is my master not -here, sir?' - -'No.' - -'Have you not seen him, sir?' - -'No; don't you come from him?' - -'Not immediately so, sir.' - -'Did he tell you you would find him here?' - -'Not exactly so, sir. But I should think he might be here tomorrow, as -he has not been here today.' 'Is he coming up from Oxford?' - -'I beg, sir,' he returned respectfully, 'that you will be seated, and -allow me to do this.' With which he took the fork from my unresisting -hand, and bent over the gridiron, as if his whole attention were -concentrated on it. - -We should not have been much discomposed, I dare say, by the appearance -of Steerforth himself, but we became in a moment the meekest of the meek -before his respectable serving-man. Mr. Micawber, humming a tune, to -show that he was quite at ease, subsided into his chair, with the handle -of a hastily concealed fork sticking out of the bosom of his coat, as -if he had stabbed himself. Mrs. Micawber put on her brown gloves, and -assumed a genteel languor. Traddles ran his greasy hands through -his hair, and stood it bolt upright, and stared in confusion on the -table-cloth. As for me, I was a mere infant at the head of my own table; -and hardly ventured to glance at the respectable phenomenon, who had -come from Heaven knows where, to put my establishment to rights. - -Meanwhile he took the mutton off the gridiron, and gravely handed it -round. We all took some, but our appreciation of it was gone, and we -merely made a show of eating it. As we severally pushed away our plates, -he noiselessly removed them, and set on the cheese. He took that off, -too, when it was done with; cleared the table; piled everything on the -dumb-waiter; gave us our wine-glasses; and, of his own accord, wheeled -the dumb-waiter into the pantry. All this was done in a perfect manner, -and he never raised his eyes from what he was about. Yet his very -elbows, when he had his back towards me, seemed to teem with the -expression of his fixed opinion that I was extremely young. - -'Can I do anything more, sir?' - -I thanked him and said, No; but would he take no dinner himself? - -'None, I am obliged to you, sir.' - -'Is Mr. Steerforth coming from Oxford?' - -'I beg your pardon, sir?' - -'Is Mr. Steerforth coming from Oxford?' - -'I should imagine that he might be here tomorrow, sir. I rather thought -he might have been here today, sir. The mistake is mine, no doubt, sir.' - -'If you should see him first--' said I. - -'If you'll excuse me, sir, I don't think I shall see him first.' - -'In case you do,' said I, 'pray say that I am sorry he was not here -today, as an old schoolfellow of his was here.' - -'Indeed, sir!' and he divided a bow between me and Traddles, with a -glance at the latter. - -He was moving softly to the door, when, in a forlorn hope of saying -something naturally--which I never could, to this man--I said: - -'Oh! Littimer!' - -'Sir!' - -'Did you remain long at Yarmouth, that time?' - -'Not particularly so, sir.' - -'You saw the boat completed?' - -'Yes, sir. I remained behind on purpose to see the boat completed.' - -'I know!' He raised his eyes to mine respectfully. - -'Mr. Steerforth has not seen it yet, I suppose?' - -'I really can't say, sir. I think--but I really can't say, sir. I wish -you good night, sir.' - -He comprehended everybody present, in the respectful bow with which he -followed these words, and disappeared. My visitors seemed to breathe -more freely when he was gone; but my own relief was very great, for -besides the constraint, arising from that extraordinary sense of -being at a disadvantage which I always had in this man's presence, my -conscience had embarrassed me with whispers that I had mistrusted his -master, and I could not repress a vague uneasy dread that he might -find it out. How was it, having so little in reality to conceal, that I -always DID feel as if this man were finding me out? - -Mr. Micawber roused me from this reflection, which was blended with -a certain remorseful apprehension of seeing Steerforth himself, by -bestowing many encomiums on the absent Littimer as a most respectable -fellow, and a thoroughly admirable servant. Mr. Micawber, I may remark, -had taken his full share of the general bow, and had received it with -infinite condescension. - -'But punch, my dear Copperfield,' said Mr. Micawber, tasting it, 'like -time and tide, waits for no man. Ah! it is at the present moment in high -flavour. My love, will you give me your opinion?' - -Mrs. Micawber pronounced it excellent. - -'Then I will drink,' said Mr. Micawber, 'if my friend Copperfield -will permit me to take that social liberty, to the days when my friend -Copperfield and myself were younger, and fought our way in the world -side by side. I may say, of myself and Copperfield, in words we have -sung together before now, that - - We twa hae run about the braes - And pu'd the gowans' fine ---in a figurative point of view--on several occasions. I am not exactly -aware,' said Mr. Micawber, with the old roll in his voice, and the old -indescribable air of saying something genteel, 'what gowans may be, but -I have no doubt that Copperfield and myself would frequently have taken -a pull at them, if it had been feasible.' - -Mr. Micawber, at the then present moment, took a pull at his punch. So -we all did: Traddles evidently lost in wondering at what distant time -Mr. Micawber and I could have been comrades in the battle of the world. - -'Ahem!' said Mr. Micawber, clearing his throat, and warming with the -punch and with the fire. 'My dear, another glass?' - -Mrs. Micawber said it must be very little; but we couldn't allow that, -so it was a glassful. - -'As we are quite confidential here, Mr. Copperfield,' said Mrs. -Micawber, sipping her punch, 'Mr. Traddles being a part of our -domesticity, I should much like to have your opinion on Mr. Micawber's -prospects. For corn,' said Mrs. Micawber argumentatively, 'as I have -repeatedly said to Mr. Micawber, may be gentlemanly, but it is not -remunerative. Commission to the extent of two and ninepence in -a fortnight cannot, however limited our ideas, be considered -remunerative.' - -We were all agreed upon that. - -'Then,' said Mrs. Micawber, who prided herself on taking a clear view of -things, and keeping Mr. Micawber straight by her woman's wisdom, when he -might otherwise go a little crooked, 'then I ask myself this question. -If corn is not to be relied upon, what is? Are coals to be relied upon? -Not at all. We have turned our attention to that experiment, on the -suggestion of my family, and we find it fallacious.' - -Mr. Micawber, leaning back in his chair with his hands in his pockets, -eyed us aside, and nodded his head, as much as to say that the case was -very clearly put. - -'The articles of corn and coals,' said Mrs. Micawber, still more -argumentatively, 'being equally out of the question, Mr. Copperfield, -I naturally look round the world, and say, "What is there in which a -person of Mr. Micawber's talent is likely to succeed?" And I exclude -the doing anything on commission, because commission is not a certainty. -What is best suited to a person of Mr. Micawber's peculiar temperament -is, I am convinced, a certainty.' - -Traddles and I both expressed, by a feeling murmur, that this great -discovery was no doubt true of Mr. Micawber, and that it did him much -credit. - -'I will not conceal from you, my dear Mr. Copperfield,' said Mrs. -Micawber, 'that I have long felt the Brewing business to be particularly -adapted to Mr. Micawber. Look at Barclay and Perkins! Look at Truman, -Hanbury, and Buxton! It is on that extensive footing that Mr. Micawber, -I know from my own knowledge of him, is calculated to shine; and the -profits, I am told, are e-NOR-MOUS! But if Mr. Micawber cannot get into -those firms--which decline to answer his letters, when he offers his -services even in an inferior capacity--what is the use of dwelling upon -that idea? None. I may have a conviction that Mr. Micawber's manners--' - -'Hem! Really, my dear,' interposed Mr. Micawber. - -'My love, be silent,' said Mrs. Micawber, laying her brown glove on his -hand. 'I may have a conviction, Mr. Copperfield, that Mr. Micawber's -manners peculiarly qualify him for the Banking business. I may argue -within myself, that if I had a deposit at a banking-house, the manners -of Mr. Micawber, as representing that banking-house, would inspire -confidence, and must extend the connexion. But if the various -banking-houses refuse to avail themselves of Mr. Micawber's abilities, -or receive the offer of them with contumely, what is the use of dwelling -upon THAT idea? None. As to originating a banking-business, I may know -that there are members of my family who, if they chose to place their -money in Mr. Micawber's hands, might found an establishment of that -description. But if they do NOT choose to place their money in Mr. -Micawber's hands--which they don't--what is the use of that? Again I -contend that we are no farther advanced than we were before.' - -I shook my head, and said, 'Not a bit.' Traddles also shook his head, -and said, 'Not a bit.' - -'What do I deduce from this?' Mrs. Micawber went on to say, still with -the same air of putting a case lucidly. 'What is the conclusion, my -dear Mr. Copperfield, to which I am irresistibly brought? Am I wrong in -saying, it is clear that we must live?' - -I answered 'Not at all!' and Traddles answered 'Not at all!' and I found -myself afterwards sagely adding, alone, that a person must either live -or die. - -'Just so,' returned Mrs. Micawber, 'It is precisely that. And the fact -is, my dear Mr. Copperfield, that we can not live without something -widely different from existing circumstances shortly turning up. Now -I am convinced, myself, and this I have pointed out to Mr. Micawber -several times of late, that things cannot be expected to turn up of -themselves. We must, in a measure, assist to turn them up. I may be -wrong, but I have formed that opinion.' - -Both Traddles and I applauded it highly. - -'Very well,' said Mrs. Micawber. 'Then what do I recommend? Here is Mr. -Micawber with a variety of qualifications--with great talent--' - -'Really, my love,' said Mr. Micawber. - -'Pray, my dear, allow me to conclude. Here is Mr. Micawber, with a -variety of qualifications, with great talent--I should say, with genius, -but that may be the partiality of a wife--' - -Traddles and I both murmured 'No.' - -'And here is Mr. Micawber without any suitable position or employment. -Where does that responsibility rest? Clearly on society. Then I would -make a fact so disgraceful known, and boldly challenge society to set it -right. It appears to me, my dear Mr. Copperfield,' said Mrs. Micawber, -forcibly, 'that what Mr. Micawber has to do, is to throw down the -gauntlet to society, and say, in effect, "Show me who will take that up. -Let the party immediately step forward."' - -I ventured to ask Mrs. Micawber how this was to be done. - -'By advertising,' said Mrs. Micawber--'in all the papers. It appears to -me, that what Mr. Micawber has to do, in justice to himself, in justice -to his family, and I will even go so far as to say in justice to -society, by which he has been hitherto overlooked, is to advertise in -all the papers; to describe himself plainly as so-and-so, with such and -such qualifications and to put it thus: "Now employ me, on remunerative -terms, and address, post-paid, to W. M., Post Office, Camden Town."' - -'This idea of Mrs. Micawber's, my dear Copperfield,' said Mr. Micawber, -making his shirt-collar meet in front of his chin, and glancing at me -sideways, 'is, in fact, the Leap to which I alluded, when I last had the -pleasure of seeing you.' - -'Advertising is rather expensive,' I remarked, dubiously. - -'Exactly so!' said Mrs. Micawber, preserving the same logical air. -'Quite true, my dear Mr. Copperfield! I have made the identical -observation to Mr. Micawber. It is for that reason especially, that I -think Mr. Micawber ought (as I have already said, in justice to himself, -in justice to his family, and in justice to society) to raise a certain -sum of money--on a bill.' - -Mr. Micawber, leaning back in his chair, trifled with his eye-glass -and cast his eyes up at the ceiling; but I thought him observant of -Traddles, too, who was looking at the fire. - -'If no member of my family,' said Mrs. Micawber, 'is possessed of -sufficient natural feeling to negotiate that bill--I believe there is a -better business-term to express what I mean--' - -Mr. Micawber, with his eyes still cast up at the ceiling, suggested -'Discount.' - -'To discount that bill,' said Mrs. Micawber, 'then my opinion is, that -Mr. Micawber should go into the City, should take that bill into the -Money Market, and should dispose of it for what he can get. If the -individuals in the Money Market oblige Mr. Micawber to sustain a great -sacrifice, that is between themselves and their consciences. I view -it, steadily, as an investment. I recommend Mr. Micawber, my dear Mr. -Copperfield, to do the same; to regard it as an investment which is sure -of return, and to make up his mind to any sacrifice.' - -I felt, but I am sure I don't know why, that this was self-denying -and devoted in Mrs. Micawber, and I uttered a murmur to that effect. -Traddles, who took his tone from me, did likewise, still looking at the -fire. - -'I will not,' said Mrs. Micawber, finishing her punch, and gathering her -scarf about her shoulders, preparatory to her withdrawal to my bedroom: -'I will not protract these remarks on the subject of Mr. Micawber's -pecuniary affairs. At your fireside, my dear Mr. Copperfield, and in the -presence of Mr. Traddles, who, though not so old a friend, is quite one -of ourselves, I could not refrain from making you acquainted with the -course I advise Mr. Micawber to take. I feel that the time is arrived -when Mr. Micawber should exert himself and--I will add--assert himself, -and it appears to me that these are the means. I am aware that I am -merely a female, and that a masculine judgement is usually considered -more competent to the discussion of such questions; still I must not -forget that, when I lived at home with my papa and mama, my papa was in -the habit of saying, "Emma's form is fragile, but her grasp of a subject -is inferior to none." That my papa was too partial, I well know; but -that he was an observer of character in some degree, my duty and my -reason equally forbid me to doubt.' - -With these words, and resisting our entreaties that she would grace -the remaining circulation of the punch with her presence, Mrs. Micawber -retired to my bedroom. And really I felt that she was a noble woman--the -sort of woman who might have been a Roman matron, and done all manner of -heroic things, in times of public trouble. - -In the fervour of this impression, I congratulated Mr. Micawber on the -treasure he possessed. So did Traddles. Mr. Micawber extended his -hand to each of us in succession, and then covered his face with his -pocket-handkerchief, which I think had more snuff upon it than he -was aware of. He then returned to the punch, in the highest state of -exhilaration. - -He was full of eloquence. He gave us to understand that in our children -we lived again, and that, under the pressure of pecuniary difficulties, -any accession to their number was doubly welcome. He said that Mrs. -Micawber had latterly had her doubts on this point, but that he had -dispelled them, and reassured her. As to her family, they were totally -unworthy of her, and their sentiments were utterly indifferent to him, -and they might--I quote his own expression--go to the Devil. - -Mr. Micawber then delivered a warm eulogy on Traddles. He said -Traddles's was a character, to the steady virtues of which he (Mr. -Micawber) could lay no claim, but which, he thanked Heaven, he could -admire. He feelingly alluded to the young lady, unknown, whom Traddles -had honoured with his affection, and who had reciprocated that affection -by honouring and blessing Traddles with her affection. Mr. Micawber -pledged her. So did I. Traddles thanked us both, by saying, with a -simplicity and honesty I had sense enough to be quite charmed with, -'I am very much obliged to you indeed. And I do assure you, she's the -dearest girl!--' - -Mr. Micawber took an early opportunity, after that, of hinting, with the -utmost delicacy and ceremony, at the state of my affections. Nothing -but the serious assurance of his friend Copperfield to the contrary, -he observed, could deprive him of the impression that his friend -Copperfield loved and was beloved. After feeling very hot and -uncomfortable for some time, and after a good deal of blushing, -stammering, and denying, I said, having my glass in my hand, 'Well! I -would give them D.!' which so excited and gratified Mr. Micawber, -that he ran with a glass of punch into my bedroom, in order that Mrs. -Micawber might drink D., who drank it with enthusiasm, crying from -within, in a shrill voice, 'Hear, hear! My dear Mr. Copperfield, I am -delighted. Hear!' and tapping at the wall, by way of applause. - -Our conversation, afterwards, took a more worldly turn; Mr. Micawber -telling us that he found Camden Town inconvenient, and that the first -thing he contemplated doing, when the advertisement should have been the -cause of something satisfactory turning up, was to move. He mentioned -a terrace at the western end of Oxford Street, fronting Hyde Park, on -which he had always had his eye, but which he did not expect to attain -immediately, as it would require a large establishment. There would -probably be an interval, he explained, in which he should content -himself with the upper part of a house, over some respectable place of -business--say in Piccadilly,--which would be a cheerful situation for -Mrs. Micawber; and where, by throwing out a bow-window, or carrying up -the roof another story, or making some little alteration of that sort, -they might live, comfortably and reputably, for a few years. Whatever -was reserved for him, he expressly said, or wherever his abode might be, -we might rely on this--there would always be a room for Traddles, and a -knife and fork for me. We acknowledged his kindness; and he begged us -to forgive his having launched into these practical and business-like -details, and to excuse it as natural in one who was making entirely new -arrangements in life. - -Mrs. Micawber, tapping at the wall again to know if tea were ready, -broke up this particular phase of our friendly conversation. She made -tea for us in a most agreeable manner; and, whenever I went near her, in -handing about the tea-cups and bread-and-butter, asked me, in a whisper, -whether D. was fair, or dark, or whether she was short, or tall: or -something of that kind; which I think I liked. After tea, we discussed a -variety of topics before the fire; and Mrs. Micawber was good enough -to sing us (in a small, thin, flat voice, which I remembered to have -considered, when I first knew her, the very table-beer of acoustics) the -favourite ballads of 'The Dashing White Sergeant', and 'Little Tafflin'. -For both of these songs Mrs. Micawber had been famous when she lived at -home with her papa and mama. Mr. Micawber told us, that when he heard -her sing the first one, on the first occasion of his seeing her beneath -the parental roof, she had attracted his attention in an extraordinary -degree; but that when it came to Little Tafflin, he had resolved to win -that woman or perish in the attempt. - -It was between ten and eleven o'clock when Mrs. Micawber rose to replace -her cap in the whitey-brown paper parcel, and to put on her bonnet. Mr. -Micawber took the opportunity of Traddles putting on his great-coat, to -slip a letter into my hand, with a whispered request that I would read -it at my leisure. I also took the opportunity of my holding a candle -over the banisters to light them down, when Mr. Micawber was going -first, leading Mrs. Micawber, and Traddles was following with the cap, -to detain Traddles for a moment on the top of the stairs. - -'Traddles,' said I, 'Mr. Micawber don't mean any harm, poor fellow: but, -if I were you, I wouldn't lend him anything.' - -'My dear Copperfield,' returned Traddles, smiling, 'I haven't got -anything to lend.' - -'You have got a name, you know,' said I. - -'Oh! You call THAT something to lend?' returned Traddles, with a -thoughtful look. - -'Certainly.' - -'Oh!' said Traddles. 'Yes, to be sure! I am very much obliged to you, -Copperfield; but--I am afraid I have lent him that already.' - -'For the bill that is to be a certain investment?' I inquired. - -'No,' said Traddles. 'Not for that one. This is the first I have heard -of that one. I have been thinking that he will most likely propose that -one, on the way home. Mine's another.' - -'I hope there will be nothing wrong about it,' said I. 'I hope not,' -said Traddles. 'I should think not, though, because he told me, only the -other day, that it was provided for. That was Mr. Micawber's expression, -"Provided for."' - -Mr. Micawber looking up at this juncture to where we were standing, I -had only time to repeat my caution. Traddles thanked me, and descended. -But I was much afraid, when I observed the good-natured manner in which -he went down with the cap in his hand, and gave Mrs. Micawber his arm, -that he would be carried into the Money Market neck and heels. - -I returned to my fireside, and was musing, half gravely and half -laughing, on the character of Mr. Micawber and the old relations between -us, when I heard a quick step ascending the stairs. At first, I thought -it was Traddles coming back for something Mrs. Micawber had left behind; -but as the step approached, I knew it, and felt my heart beat high, and -the blood rush to my face, for it was Steerforth's. - -I was never unmindful of Agnes, and she never left that sanctuary in my -thoughts--if I may call it so--where I had placed her from the first. -But when he entered, and stood before me with his hand out, the darkness -that had fallen on him changed to light, and I felt confounded and -ashamed of having doubted one I loved so heartily. I loved her none the -less; I thought of her as the same benignant, gentle angel in my life; I -reproached myself, not her, with having done him an injury; and I would -have made him any atonement if I had known what to make, and how to make -it. - -'Why, Daisy, old boy, dumb-foundered!' laughed Steerforth, shaking -my hand heartily, and throwing it gaily away. 'Have I detected you in -another feast, you Sybarite! These Doctors' Commons fellows are the -gayest men in town, I believe, and beat us sober Oxford people all to -nothing!' His bright glance went merrily round the room, as he took -the seat on the sofa opposite to me, which Mrs. Micawber had recently -vacated, and stirred the fire into a blaze. - -'I was so surprised at first,' said I, giving him welcome with all -the cordiality I felt, 'that I had hardly breath to greet you with, -Steerforth.' - -'Well, the sight of me is good for sore eyes, as the Scotch say,' -replied Steerforth, 'and so is the sight of you, Daisy, in full bloom. -How are you, my Bacchanal?' - -'I am very well,' said I; 'and not at all Bacchanalian tonight, though I -confess to another party of three.' - -'All of whom I met in the street, talking loud in your praise,' returned -Steerforth. 'Who's our friend in the tights?' - -I gave him the best idea I could, in a few words, of Mr. Micawber. He -laughed heartily at my feeble portrait of that gentleman, and said he -was a man to know, and he must know him. 'But who do you suppose our -other friend is?' said I, in my turn. - -'Heaven knows,' said Steerforth. 'Not a bore, I hope? I thought he -looked a little like one.' - -'Traddles!' I replied, triumphantly. - -'Who's he?' asked Steerforth, in his careless way. - -'Don't you remember Traddles? Traddles in our room at Salem House?' - -'Oh! That fellow!' said Steerforth, beating a lump of coal on the top -of the fire, with the poker. 'Is he as soft as ever? And where the deuce -did you pick him up?' - -I extolled Traddles in reply, as highly as I could; for I felt that -Steerforth rather slighted him. Steerforth, dismissing the subject with -a light nod, and a smile, and the remark that he would be glad to see -the old fellow too, for he had always been an odd fish, inquired if I -could give him anything to eat? During most of this short dialogue, when -he had not been speaking in a wild vivacious manner, he had sat idly -beating on the lump of coal with the poker. I observed that he did the -same thing while I was getting out the remains of the pigeon-pie, and so -forth. - -'Why, Daisy, here's a supper for a king!' he exclaimed, starting out of -his silence with a burst, and taking his seat at the table. 'I shall do -it justice, for I have come from Yarmouth.' - -'I thought you came from Oxford?' I returned. - -'Not I,' said Steerforth. 'I have been seafaring--better employed.' - -'Littimer was here today, to inquire for you,' I remarked, 'and I -understood him that you were at Oxford; though, now I think of it, he -certainly did not say so.' - -'Littimer is a greater fool than I thought him, to have been inquiring -for me at all,' said Steerforth, jovially pouring out a glass of wine, -and drinking to me. 'As to understanding him, you are a cleverer fellow -than most of us, Daisy, if you can do that.' - -'That's true, indeed,' said I, moving my chair to the table. 'So you -have been at Yarmouth, Steerforth!' interested to know all about it. -'Have you been there long?' - -'No,' he returned. 'An escapade of a week or so.' - -'And how are they all? Of course, little Emily is not married yet?' - -'Not yet. Going to be, I believe--in so many weeks, or months, or -something or other. I have not seen much of 'em. By the by'; he laid -down his knife and fork, which he had been using with great diligence, -and began feeling in his pockets; 'I have a letter for you.' - -'From whom?' - -'Why, from your old nurse,' he returned, taking some papers out of his -breast pocket. "'J. Steerforth, Esquire, debtor, to The Willing -Mind"; that's not it. Patience, and we'll find it presently. Old -what's-his-name's in a bad way, and it's about that, I believe.' - -'Barkis, do you mean?' - -'Yes!' still feeling in his pockets, and looking over their contents: -'it's all over with poor Barkis, I am afraid. I saw a little apothecary -there--surgeon, or whatever he is--who brought your worship into the -world. He was mighty learned about the case, to me; but the upshot of -his opinion was, that the carrier was making his last journey rather -fast.---Put your hand into the breast pocket of my great-coat on the -chair yonder, and I think you'll find the letter. Is it there?' - -'Here it is!' said I. - -'That's right!' - -It was from Peggotty; something less legible than usual, and brief. It -informed me of her husband's hopeless state, and hinted at his being -'a little nearer' than heretofore, and consequently more difficult -to manage for his own comfort. It said nothing of her weariness -and watching, and praised him highly. It was written with a plain, -unaffected, homely piety that I knew to be genuine, and ended with 'my -duty to my ever darling'--meaning myself. - -While I deciphered it, Steerforth continued to eat and drink. - -'It's a bad job,' he said, when I had done; 'but the sun sets every day, -and people die every minute, and we mustn't be scared by the common lot. -If we failed to hold our own, because that equal foot at all men's doors -was heard knocking somewhere, every object in this world would slip from -us. No! Ride on! Rough-shod if need be, smooth-shod if that will do, but -ride on! Ride on over all obstacles, and win the race!' - -'And win what race?' said I. - -'The race that one has started in,' said he. 'Ride on!' - -I noticed, I remember, as he paused, looking at me with his handsome -head a little thrown back, and his glass raised in his hand, that, -though the freshness of the sea-wind was on his face, and it was ruddy, -there were traces in it, made since I last saw it, as if he had applied -himself to some habitual strain of the fervent energy which, when -roused, was so passionately roused within him. I had it in my thoughts -to remonstrate with him upon his desperate way of pursuing any fancy -that he took--such as this buffeting of rough seas, and braving of hard -weather, for example--when my mind glanced off to the immediate subject -of our conversation again, and pursued that instead. - -'I tell you what, Steerforth,' said I, 'if your high spirits will listen -to me--' - -'They are potent spirits, and will do whatever you like,' he answered, -moving from the table to the fireside again. - -'Then I tell you what, Steerforth. I think I will go down and see my -old nurse. It is not that I can do her any good, or render her any real -service; but she is so attached to me that my visit will have as much -effect on her, as if I could do both. She will take it so kindly that it -will be a comfort and support to her. It is no great effort to make, -I am sure, for such a friend as she has been to me. Wouldn't you go a -day's journey, if you were in my place?' - -His face was thoughtful, and he sat considering a little before he -answered, in a low voice, 'Well! Go. You can do no harm.' - -'You have just come back,' said I, 'and it would be in vain to ask you -to go with me?' - -'Quite,' he returned. 'I am for Highgate tonight. I have not seen -my mother this long time, and it lies upon my conscience, for -it's something to be loved as she loves her prodigal son.---Bah! -Nonsense!--You mean to go tomorrow, I suppose?' he said, holding me out -at arm's length, with a hand on each of my shoulders. - -'Yes, I think so.' - -'Well, then, don't go till next day. I wanted you to come and stay a -few days with us. Here I am, on purpose to bid you, and you fly off to -Yarmouth!' - -'You are a nice fellow to talk of flying off, Steerforth, who are always -running wild on some unknown expedition or other!' - -He looked at me for a moment without speaking, and then rejoined, still -holding me as before, and giving me a shake: - -'Come! Say the next day, and pass as much of tomorrow as you can with -us! Who knows when we may meet again, else? Come! Say the next day! I -want you to stand between Rosa Dartle and me, and keep us asunder.' - -'Would you love each other too much, without me?' - -'Yes; or hate,' laughed Steerforth; 'no matter which. Come! Say the next -day!' - -I said the next day; and he put on his great-coat and lighted his cigar, -and set off to walk home. Finding him in this intention, I put on my own -great-coat (but did not light my own cigar, having had enough of that -for one while) and walked with him as far as the open road: a dull road, -then, at night. He was in great spirits all the way; and when we parted, -and I looked after him going so gallantly and airily homeward, I thought -of his saying, 'Ride on over all obstacles, and win the race!' and -wished, for the first time, that he had some worthy race to run. - -I was undressing in my own room, when Mr. Micawber's letter tumbled on -the floor. Thus reminded of it, I broke the seal and read as follows. It -was dated an hour and a half before dinner. I am not sure whether I -have mentioned that, when Mr. Micawber was at any particularly desperate -crisis, he used a sort of legal phraseology, which he seemed to think -equivalent to winding up his affairs. - - -'SIR--for I dare not say my dear Copperfield, - -'It is expedient that I should inform you that the undersigned is -Crushed. Some flickering efforts to spare you the premature knowledge of -his calamitous position, you may observe in him this day; but hope has -sunk beneath the horizon, and the undersigned is Crushed. - -'The present communication is penned within the personal range (I cannot -call it the society) of an individual, in a state closely bordering -on intoxication, employed by a broker. That individual is in legal -possession of the premises, under a distress for rent. His inventory -includes, not only the chattels and effects of every description -belonging to the undersigned, as yearly tenant of this habitation, but -also those appertaining to Mr. Thomas Traddles, lodger, a member of the -Honourable Society of the Inner Temple. - -'If any drop of gloom were wanting in the overflowing cup, which is now -"commended" (in the language of an immortal Writer) to the lips of the -undersigned, it would be found in the fact, that a friendly acceptance -granted to the undersigned, by the before-mentioned Mr. Thomas Traddles, -for the sum Of 23l 4s 9 1/2d is over due, and is NOT provided for. Also, -in the fact that the living responsibilities clinging to the undersigned -will, in the course of nature, be increased by the sum of one more -helpless victim; whose miserable appearance may be looked for--in round -numbers--at the expiration of a period not exceeding six lunar months -from the present date. - -'After premising thus much, it would be a work of supererogation to add, -that dust and ashes are for ever scattered - - 'On - 'The - 'Head - 'Of - 'WILKINS MICAWBER.' - - -Poor Traddles! I knew enough of Mr. Micawber by this time, to foresee -that he might be expected to recover the blow; but my night's rest was -sorely distressed by thoughts of Traddles, and of the curate's daughter, -who was one of ten, down in Devonshire, and who was such a dear girl, -and who would wait for Traddles (ominous praise!) until she was sixty, -or any age that could be mentioned. - - - -CHAPTER 29. I VISIT STEERFORTH AT HIS HOME, AGAIN - - -I mentioned to Mr. Spenlow in the morning, that I wanted leave of -absence for a short time; and as I was not in the receipt of any salary, -and consequently was not obnoxious to the implacable Jorkins, there was -no difficulty about it. I took that opportunity, with my voice sticking -in my throat, and my sight failing as I uttered the words, to express -my hope that Miss Spenlow was quite well; to which Mr. Spenlow replied, -with no more emotion than if he had been speaking of an ordinary human -being, that he was much obliged to me, and she was very well. - -We articled clerks, as germs of the patrician order of proctors, were -treated with so much consideration, that I was almost my own master at -all times. As I did not care, however, to get to Highgate before one -or two o'clock in the day, and as we had another little excommunication -case in court that morning, which was called The office of the judge -promoted by Tipkins against Bullock for his soul's correction, I passed -an hour or two in attendance on it with Mr. Spenlow very agreeably. -It arose out of a scuffle between two churchwardens, one of whom was -alleged to have pushed the other against a pump; the handle of which -pump projecting into a school-house, which school-house was under a -gable of the church-roof, made the push an ecclesiastical offence. -It was an amusing case; and sent me up to Highgate, on the box of the -stage-coach, thinking about the Commons, and what Mr. Spenlow had said -about touching the Commons and bringing down the country. - -Mrs. Steerforth was pleased to see me, and so was Rosa Dartle. I was -agreeably surprised to find that Littimer was not there, and that we -were attended by a modest little parlour-maid, with blue ribbons in her -cap, whose eye it was much more pleasant, and much less disconcerting, -to catch by accident, than the eye of that respectable man. But what I -particularly observed, before I had been half-an-hour in the house, was -the close and attentive watch Miss Dartle kept upon me; and the lurking -manner in which she seemed to compare my face with Steerforth's, and -Steerforth's with mine, and to lie in wait for something to come out -between the two. So surely as I looked towards her, did I see that eager -visage, with its gaunt black eyes and searching brow, intent on mine; or -passing suddenly from mine to Steerforth's; or comprehending both of us -at once. In this lynx-like scrutiny she was so far from faltering when -she saw I observed it, that at such a time she only fixed her piercing -look upon me with a more intent expression still. Blameless as I was, -and knew that I was, in reference to any wrong she could possibly -suspect me of, I shrunk before her strange eyes, quite unable to endure -their hungry lustre. - -All day, she seemed to pervade the whole house. If I talked to -Steerforth in his room, I heard her dress rustle in the little gallery -outside. When he and I engaged in some of our old exercises on the lawn -behind the house, I saw her face pass from window to window, like a -wandering light, until it fixed itself in one, and watched us. When we -all four went out walking in the afternoon, she closed her thin hand on -my arm like a spring, to keep me back, while Steerforth and his mother -went on out of hearing: and then spoke to me. - -'You have been a long time,' she said, 'without coming here. Is your -profession really so engaging and interesting as to absorb your whole -attention? I ask because I always want to be informed, when I am -ignorant. Is it really, though?' - -I replied that I liked it well enough, but that I certainly could not -claim so much for it. - -'Oh! I am glad to know that, because I always like to be put right when -I am wrong,' said Rosa Dartle. 'You mean it is a little dry, perhaps?' - -'Well,' I replied; 'perhaps it was a little dry.' - -'Oh! and that's a reason why you want relief and change--excitement and -all that?' said she. 'Ah! very true! But isn't it a little--Eh?--for -him; I don't mean you?' - -A quick glance of her eye towards the spot where Steerforth was walking, -with his mother leaning on his arm, showed me whom she meant; but beyond -that, I was quite lost. And I looked so, I have no doubt. - -'Don't it--I don't say that it does, mind I want to know--don't it -rather engross him? Don't it make him, perhaps, a little more remiss -than usual in his visits to his blindly-doting--eh?' With another -quick glance at them, and such a glance at me as seemed to look into my -innermost thoughts. - -'Miss Dartle,' I returned, 'pray do not think--' - -'I don't!' she said. 'Oh dear me, don't suppose that I think anything! -I am not suspicious. I only ask a question. I don't state any opinion. I -want to found an opinion on what you tell me. Then, it's not so? Well! I -am very glad to know it.' - -'It certainly is not the fact,' said I, perplexed, 'that I am -accountable for Steerforth's having been away from home longer than -usual--if he has been: which I really don't know at this moment, unless -I understand it from you. I have not seen him this long while, until -last night.' - -'No?' - -'Indeed, Miss Dartle, no!' - -As she looked full at me, I saw her face grow sharper and paler, and the -marks of the old wound lengthen out until it cut through the disfigured -lip, and deep into the nether lip, and slanted down the face. There was -something positively awful to me in this, and in the brightness of her -eyes, as she said, looking fixedly at me: - -'What is he doing?' - -I repeated the words, more to myself than her, being so amazed. - -'What is he doing?' she said, with an eagerness that seemed enough to -consume her like a fire. 'In what is that man assisting him, who never -looks at me without an inscrutable falsehood in his eyes? If you are -honourable and faithful, I don't ask you to betray your friend. I ask -you only to tell me, is it anger, is it hatred, is it pride, is it -restlessness, is it some wild fancy, is it love, what is it, that is -leading him?' - -'Miss Dartle,' I returned, 'how shall I tell you, so that you will -believe me, that I know of nothing in Steerforth different from what -there was when I first came here? I can think of nothing. I firmly -believe there is nothing. I hardly understand even what you mean.' - -As she still stood looking fixedly at me, a twitching or throbbing, -from which I could not dissociate the idea of pain, came into that cruel -mark; and lifted up the corner of her lip as if with scorn, or with a -pity that despised its object. She put her hand upon it hurriedly--a -hand so thin and delicate, that when I had seen her hold it up before -the fire to shade her face, I had compared it in my thoughts to fine -porcelain--and saying, in a quick, fierce, passionate way, 'I swear you -to secrecy about this!' said not a word more. - -Mrs. Steerforth was particularly happy in her son's society, and -Steerforth was, on this occasion, particularly attentive and respectful -to her. It was very interesting to me to see them together, not only on -account of their mutual affection, but because of the strong personal -resemblance between them, and the manner in which what was haughty or -impetuous in him was softened by age and sex, in her, to a gracious -dignity. I thought, more than once, that it was well no serious cause of -division had ever come between them; or two such natures--I ought rather -to express it, two such shades of the same nature--might have been -harder to reconcile than the two extremest opposites in creation. The -idea did not originate in my own discernment, I am bound to confess, but -in a speech of Rosa Dartle's. - -She said at dinner: - -'Oh, but do tell me, though, somebody, because I have been thinking -about it all day, and I want to know.' - -'You want to know what, Rosa?' returned Mrs. Steerforth. 'Pray, pray, -Rosa, do not be mysterious.' - -'Mysterious!' she cried. 'Oh! really? Do you consider me so?' - -'Do I constantly entreat you,' said Mrs. Steerforth, 'to speak plainly, -in your own natural manner?' - -'Oh! then this is not my natural manner?' she rejoined. 'Now you must -really bear with me, because I ask for information. We never know -ourselves.' - -'It has become a second nature,' said Mrs. Steerforth, without any -displeasure; 'but I remember,--and so must you, I think,--when your -manner was different, Rosa; when it was not so guarded, and was more -trustful.' - -'I am sure you are right,' she returned; 'and so it is that bad habits -grow upon one! Really? Less guarded and more trustful? How can I, -imperceptibly, have changed, I wonder! Well, that's very odd! I must -study to regain my former self.' - -'I wish you would,' said Mrs. Steerforth, with a smile. - -'Oh! I really will, you know!' she answered. 'I will learn frankness -from--let me see--from James.' - -'You cannot learn frankness, Rosa,' said Mrs. Steerforth quickly--for -there was always some effect of sarcasm in what Rosa Dartle said, -though it was said, as this was, in the most unconscious manner in the -world--'in a better school.' - -'That I am sure of,' she answered, with uncommon fervour. 'If I am sure -of anything, of course, you know, I am sure of that.' - -Mrs. Steerforth appeared to me to regret having been a little nettled; -for she presently said, in a kind tone: - -'Well, my dear Rosa, we have not heard what it is that you want to be -satisfied about?' - -'That I want to be satisfied about?' she replied, with provoking -coldness. 'Oh! It was only whether people, who are like each other in -their moral constitution--is that the phrase?' - -'It's as good a phrase as another,' said Steerforth. - -'Thank you:--whether people, who are like each other in their moral -constitution, are in greater danger than people not so circumstanced, -supposing any serious cause of variance to arise between them, of being -divided angrily and deeply?' - -'I should say yes,' said Steerforth. - -'Should you?' she retorted. 'Dear me! Supposing then, for instance--any -unlikely thing will do for a supposition--that you and your mother were -to have a serious quarrel.' - -'My dear Rosa,' interposed Mrs. Steerforth, laughing good-naturedly, -'suggest some other supposition! James and I know our duty to each other -better, I pray Heaven!' - -'Oh!' said Miss Dartle, nodding her head thoughtfully. 'To be sure. That -would prevent it? Why, of course it would. Exactly. Now, I am glad I -have been so foolish as to put the case, for it is so very good to know -that your duty to each other would prevent it! Thank you very much.' - -One other little circumstance connected with Miss Dartle I must -not omit; for I had reason to remember it thereafter, when all the -irremediable past was rendered plain. During the whole of this day, but -especially from this period of it, Steerforth exerted himself with his -utmost skill, and that was with his utmost ease, to charm this singular -creature into a pleasant and pleased companion. That he should succeed, -was no matter of surprise to me. That she should struggle against the -fascinating influence of his delightful art--delightful nature I thought -it then--did not surprise me either; for I knew that she was sometimes -jaundiced and perverse. I saw her features and her manner slowly change; -I saw her look at him with growing admiration; I saw her try, more and -more faintly, but always angrily, as if she condemned a weakness in -herself, to resist the captivating power that he possessed; and finally, -I saw her sharp glance soften, and her smile become quite gentle, and I -ceased to be afraid of her as I had really been all day, and we all sat -about the fire, talking and laughing together, with as little reserve as -if we had been children. - -Whether it was because we had sat there so long, or because Steerforth -was resolved not to lose the advantage he had gained, I do not know; but -we did not remain in the dining-room more than five minutes after her -departure. 'She is playing her harp,' said Steerforth, softly, at the -drawing-room door, 'and nobody but my mother has heard her do that, I -believe, these three years.' He said it with a curious smile, which was -gone directly; and we went into the room and found her alone. - -'Don't get up,' said Steerforth (which she had already done)' my dear -Rosa, don't! Be kind for once, and sing us an Irish song.' - -'What do you care for an Irish song?' she returned. - -'Much!' said Steerforth. 'Much more than for any other. Here is Daisy, -too, loves music from his soul. Sing us an Irish song, Rosa! and let me -sit and listen as I used to do.' - -He did not touch her, or the chair from which she had risen, but sat -himself near the harp. She stood beside it for some little while, in a -curious way, going through the motion of playing it with her right hand, -but not sounding it. At length she sat down, and drew it to her with one -sudden action, and played and sang. - -I don't know what it was, in her touch or voice, that made that song the -most unearthly I have ever heard in my life, or can imagine. There was -something fearful in the reality of it. It was as if it had never been -written, or set to music, but sprung out of passion within her; which -found imperfect utterance in the low sounds of her voice, and crouched -again when all was still. I was dumb when she leaned beside the harp -again, playing it, but not sounding it, with her right hand. - -A minute more, and this had roused me from my trance:--Steerforth had -left his seat, and gone to her, and had put his arm laughingly about -her, and had said, 'Come, Rosa, for the future we will love each other -very much!' And she had struck him, and had thrown him off with the fury -of a wild cat, and had burst out of the room. - -'What is the matter with Rosa?' said Mrs. Steerforth, coming in. - -'She has been an angel, mother,' returned Steerforth, 'for a little -while; and has run into the opposite extreme, since, by way of -compensation.' - -'You should be careful not to irritate her, James. Her temper has been -soured, remember, and ought not to be tried.' - -Rosa did not come back; and no other mention was made of her, until I -went with Steerforth into his room to say Good night. Then he laughed -about her, and asked me if I had ever seen such a fierce little piece of -incomprehensibility. - -I expressed as much of my astonishment as was then capable of -expression, and asked if he could guess what it was that she had taken -so much amiss, so suddenly. - -'Oh, Heaven knows,' said Steerforth. 'Anything you like--or nothing! -I told you she took everything, herself included, to a grindstone, and -sharpened it. She is an edge-tool, and requires great care in dealing -with. She is always dangerous. Good night!' - -'Good night!' said I, 'my dear Steerforth! I shall be gone before you -wake in the morning. Good night!' - -He was unwilling to let me go; and stood, holding me out, with a hand on -each of my shoulders, as he had done in my own room. - -'Daisy,' he said, with a smile--'for though that's not the name your -godfathers and godmothers gave you, it's the name I like best to call -you by--and I wish, I wish, I wish, you could give it to me!' - -'Why so I can, if I choose,' said I. - -'Daisy, if anything should ever separate us, you must think of me at my -best, old boy. Come! Let us make that bargain. Think of me at my best, -if circumstances should ever part us!' - -'You have no best to me, Steerforth,' said I, 'and no worst. You are -always equally loved, and cherished in my heart.' - -So much compunction for having ever wronged him, even by a shapeless -thought, did I feel within me, that the confession of having done so was -rising to my lips. But for the reluctance I had to betray the confidence -of Agnes, but for my uncertainty how to approach the subject with no -risk of doing so, it would have reached them before he said, 'God bless -you, Daisy, and good night!' In my doubt, it did NOT reach them; and we -shook hands, and we parted. - -I was up with the dull dawn, and, having dressed as quietly as I could, -looked into his room. He was fast asleep; lying, easily, with his head -upon his arm, as I had often seen him lie at school. - -The time came in its season, and that was very soon, when I almost -wondered that nothing troubled his repose, as I looked at him. But he -slept--let me think of him so again--as I had often seen him sleep at -school; and thus, in this silent hour, I left him. --Never more, oh -God forgive you, Steerforth! to touch that passive hand in love and -friendship. Never, never more! - - - -CHAPTER 30. A LOSS - - -I got down to Yarmouth in the evening, and went to the inn. I knew that -Peggotty's spare room--my room--was likely to have occupation enough -in a little while, if that great Visitor, before whose presence all -the living must give place, were not already in the house; so I betook -myself to the inn, and dined there, and engaged my bed. - -It was ten o'clock when I went out. Many of the shops were shut, and the -town was dull. When I came to Omer and Joram's, I found the shutters up, -but the shop door standing open. As I could obtain a perspective view -of Mr. Omer inside, smoking his pipe by the parlour door, I entered, and -asked him how he was. - -'Why, bless my life and soul!' said Mr. Omer, 'how do you find yourself? -Take a seat.---Smoke not disagreeable, I hope?' - -'By no means,' said I. 'I like it--in somebody else's pipe.' - -'What, not in your own, eh?' Mr. Omer returned, laughing. 'All the -better, sir. Bad habit for a young man. Take a seat. I smoke, myself, -for the asthma.' - -Mr. Omer had made room for me, and placed a chair. He now sat down again -very much out of breath, gasping at his pipe as if it contained a supply -of that necessary, without which he must perish. - -'I am sorry to have heard bad news of Mr. Barkis,' said I. - -Mr. Omer looked at me, with a steady countenance, and shook his head. - -'Do you know how he is tonight?' I asked. - -'The very question I should have put to you, sir,' returned Mr. Omer, -'but on account of delicacy. It's one of the drawbacks of our line of -business. When a party's ill, we can't ask how the party is.' - -The difficulty had not occurred to me; though I had had my apprehensions -too, when I went in, of hearing the old tune. On its being mentioned, I -recognized it, however, and said as much. - -'Yes, yes, you understand,' said Mr. Omer, nodding his head. 'We dursn't -do it. Bless you, it would be a shock that the generality of parties -mightn't recover, to say "Omer and Joram's compliments, and how do you -find yourself this morning?"--or this afternoon--as it may be.' - -Mr. Omer and I nodded at each other, and Mr. Omer recruited his wind by -the aid of his pipe. - -'It's one of the things that cut the trade off from attentions they -could often wish to show,' said Mr. Omer. 'Take myself. If I have known -Barkis a year, to move to as he went by, I have known him forty years. -But I can't go and say, "how is he?"' - -I felt it was rather hard on Mr. Omer, and I told him so. - -'I'm not more self-interested, I hope, than another man,' said Mr. Omer. -'Look at me! My wind may fail me at any moment, and it ain't -likely that, to my own knowledge, I'd be self-interested under such -circumstances. I say it ain't likely, in a man who knows his wind will -go, when it DOES go, as if a pair of bellows was cut open; and that man -a grandfather,' said Mr. Omer. - -I said, 'Not at all.' - -'It ain't that I complain of my line of business,' said Mr. Omer. 'It -ain't that. Some good and some bad goes, no doubt, to all callings. What -I wish is, that parties was brought up stronger-minded.' - -Mr. Omer, with a very complacent and amiable face, took several puffs in -silence; and then said, resuming his first point: - -'Accordingly we're obleeged, in ascertaining how Barkis goes on, to -limit ourselves to Em'ly. She knows what our real objects are, and she -don't have any more alarms or suspicions about us, than if we was so -many lambs. Minnie and Joram have just stepped down to the house, in -fact (she's there, after hours, helping her aunt a bit), to ask her how -he is tonight; and if you was to please to wait till they come back, -they'd give you full partic'lers. Will you take something? A glass of -srub and water, now? I smoke on srub and water, myself,' said Mr. Omer, -taking up his glass, 'because it's considered softening to the passages, -by which this troublesome breath of mine gets into action. But, Lord -bless you,' said Mr. Omer, huskily, 'it ain't the passages that's out of -order! "Give me breath enough," said I to my daughter Minnie, "and I'll -find passages, my dear."' - -He really had no breath to spare, and it was very alarming to see him -laugh. When he was again in a condition to be talked to, I thanked -him for the proffered refreshment, which I declined, as I had just had -dinner; and, observing that I would wait, since he was so good as to -invite me, until his daughter and his son-in-law came back, I inquired -how little Emily was? - -'Well, sir,' said Mr. Omer, removing his pipe, that he might rub his -chin: 'I tell you truly, I shall be glad when her marriage has taken -place.' - -'Why so?' I inquired. - -'Well, she's unsettled at present,' said Mr. Omer. 'It ain't that she's -not as pretty as ever, for she's prettier--I do assure you, she is -prettier. It ain't that she don't work as well as ever, for she does. -She WAS worth any six, and she IS worth any six. But somehow she wants -heart. If you understand,' said Mr. Omer, after rubbing his chin again, -and smoking a little, 'what I mean in a general way by the expression, -"A long pull, and a strong pull, and a pull altogether, my hearties, -hurrah!" I should say to you, that that was--in a general way--what I -miss in Em'ly.' - -Mr. Omer's face and manner went for so much, that I could -conscientiously nod my head, as divining his meaning. My quickness of -apprehension seemed to please him, and he went on: 'Now I consider this -is principally on account of her being in an unsettled state, you -see. We have talked it over a good deal, her uncle and myself, and her -sweetheart and myself, after business; and I consider it is principally -on account of her being unsettled. You must always recollect of Em'ly,' -said Mr. Omer, shaking his head gently, 'that she's a most extraordinary -affectionate little thing. The proverb says, "You can't make a silk -purse out of a sow's ear." Well, I don't know about that. I rather think -you may, if you begin early in life. She has made a home out of that old -boat, sir, that stone and marble couldn't beat.' - -'I am sure she has!' said I. - -'To see the clinging of that pretty little thing to her uncle,' said -Mr. Omer; 'to see the way she holds on to him, tighter and tighter, and -closer and closer, every day, is to see a sight. Now, you know, there's -a struggle going on when that's the case. Why should it be made a longer -one than is needful?' - -I listened attentively to the good old fellow, and acquiesced, with all -my heart, in what he said. - -'Therefore, I mentioned to them,' said Mr. Omer, in a comfortable, -easy-going tone, 'this. I said, "Now, don't consider Em'ly nailed down -in point of time, at all. Make it your own time. Her services have been -more valuable than was supposed; her learning has been quicker than was -supposed; Omer and Joram can run their pen through what remains; and -she's free when you wish. If she likes to make any little arrangement, -afterwards, in the way of doing any little thing for us at home, -very well. If she don't, very well still. We're no losers, anyhow." -For--don't you see,' said Mr. Omer, touching me with his pipe, 'it ain't -likely that a man so short of breath as myself, and a grandfather too, -would go and strain points with a little bit of a blue-eyed blossom, -like her?' - -'Not at all, I am certain,' said I. - -'Not at all! You're right!' said Mr. Omer. 'Well, sir, her cousin--you -know it's a cousin she's going to be married to?' - -'Oh yes,' I replied. 'I know him well.' - -'Of course you do,' said Mr. Omer. 'Well, sir! Her cousin being, as it -appears, in good work, and well to do, thanked me in a very manly sort -of manner for this (conducting himself altogether, I must say, in a way -that gives me a high opinion of him), and went and took as comfortable -a little house as you or I could wish to clap eyes on. That little -house is now furnished right through, as neat and complete as a doll's -parlour; and but for Barkis's illness having taken this bad turn, poor -fellow, they would have been man and wife--I dare say, by this time. As -it is, there's a postponement.' - -'And Emily, Mr. Omer?' I inquired. 'Has she become more settled?' - -'Why that, you know,' he returned, rubbing his double chin again, 'can't -naturally be expected. The prospect of the change and separation, and -all that, is, as one may say, close to her and far away from her, both -at once. Barkis's death needn't put it off much, but his lingering -might. Anyway, it's an uncertain state of matters, you see.' - -'I see,' said I. - -'Consequently,' pursued Mr. Omer, 'Em'ly's still a little down, and a -little fluttered; perhaps, upon the whole, she's more so than she was. -Every day she seems to get fonder and fonder of her uncle, and more loth -to part from all of us. A kind word from me brings the tears into her -eyes; and if you was to see her with my daughter Minnie's little girl, -you'd never forget it. Bless my heart alive!' said Mr. Omer, pondering, -'how she loves that child!' - -Having so favourable an opportunity, it occurred to me to ask Mr. Omer, -before our conversation should be interrupted by the return of his -daughter and her husband, whether he knew anything of Martha. - -'Ah!' he rejoined, shaking his head, and looking very much dejected. -'No good. A sad story, sir, however you come to know it. I never thought -there was harm in the girl. I wouldn't wish to mention it before my -daughter Minnie--for she'd take me up directly--but I never did. None of -us ever did.' - -Mr. Omer, hearing his daughter's footstep before I heard it, touched me -with his pipe, and shut up one eye, as a caution. She and her husband -came in immediately afterwards. - -Their report was, that Mr. Barkis was 'as bad as bad could be'; that he -was quite unconscious; and that Mr. Chillip had mournfully said in the -kitchen, on going away just now, that the College of Physicians, the -College of Surgeons, and Apothecaries' Hall, if they were all called -in together, couldn't help him. He was past both Colleges, Mr. Chillip -said, and the Hall could only poison him. - -Hearing this, and learning that Mr. Peggotty was there, I determined to -go to the house at once. I bade good night to Mr. Omer, and to Mr. and -Mrs. Joram; and directed my steps thither, with a solemn feeling, which -made Mr. Barkis quite a new and different creature. - -My low tap at the door was answered by Mr. Peggotty. He was not so much -surprised to see me as I had expected. I remarked this in Peggotty, -too, when she came down; and I have seen it since; and I think, in the -expectation of that dread surprise, all other changes and surprises -dwindle into nothing. - -I shook hands with Mr. Peggotty, and passed into the kitchen, while he -softly closed the door. Little Emily was sitting by the fire, with her -hands before her face. Ham was standing near her. - -We spoke in whispers; listening, between whiles, for any sound in the -room above. I had not thought of it on the occasion of my last visit, -but how strange it was to me, now, to miss Mr. Barkis out of the -kitchen! - -'This is very kind of you, Mas'r Davy,' said Mr. Peggotty. - -'It's oncommon kind,' said Ham. - -'Em'ly, my dear,' cried Mr. Peggotty. 'See here! Here's Mas'r Davy come! -What, cheer up, pretty! Not a wured to Mas'r Davy?' - -There was a trembling upon her, that I can see now. The coldness of her -hand when I touched it, I can feel yet. Its only sign of animation was -to shrink from mine; and then she glided from the chair, and creeping -to the other side of her uncle, bowed herself, silently and trembling -still, upon his breast. - -'It's such a loving art,' said Mr. Peggotty, smoothing her rich hair -with his great hard hand, 'that it can't abear the sorrer of this. -It's nat'ral in young folk, Mas'r Davy, when they're new to these here -trials, and timid, like my little bird,--it's nat'ral.' - -She clung the closer to him, but neither lifted up her face, nor spoke a -word. - -'It's getting late, my dear,' said Mr. Peggotty, 'and here's Ham come -fur to take you home. Theer! Go along with t'other loving art! What' -Em'ly? Eh, my pretty?' - -The sound of her voice had not reached me, but he bent his head as if he -listened to her, and then said: - -'Let you stay with your uncle? Why, you doen't mean to ask me that! Stay -with your uncle, Moppet? When your husband that'll be so soon, is here -fur to take you home? Now a person wouldn't think it, fur to see this -little thing alongside a rough-weather chap like me,' said Mr. Peggotty, -looking round at both of us, with infinite pride; 'but the sea ain't -more salt in it than she has fondness in her for her uncle--a foolish -little Em'ly!' - -'Em'ly's in the right in that, Mas'r Davy!' said Ham. 'Lookee here! As -Em'ly wishes of it, and as she's hurried and frightened, like, besides, -I'll leave her till morning. Let me stay too!' - -'No, no,' said Mr. Peggotty. 'You doen't ought--a married man like -you--or what's as good--to take and hull away a day's work. And you -doen't ought to watch and work both. That won't do. You go home and turn -in. You ain't afeerd of Em'ly not being took good care on, I know.' - -Ham yielded to this persuasion, and took his hat to go. Even when he -kissed her--and I never saw him approach her, but I felt that nature -had given him the soul of a gentleman--she seemed to cling closer to -her uncle, even to the avoidance of her chosen husband. I shut the -door after him, that it might cause no disturbance of the quiet that -prevailed; and when I turned back, I found Mr. Peggotty still talking to -her. - -'Now, I'm a going upstairs to tell your aunt as Mas'r Davy's here, and -that'll cheer her up a bit,' he said. 'Sit ye down by the fire, the -while, my dear, and warm those mortal cold hands. You doen't need to be -so fearsome, and take on so much. What? You'll go along with me?--Well! -come along with me--come! If her uncle was turned out of house and home, -and forced to lay down in a dyke, Mas'r Davy,' said Mr. Peggotty, with -no less pride than before, 'it's my belief she'd go along with him, now! -But there'll be someone else, soon,--someone else, soon, Em'ly!' - -Afterwards, when I went upstairs, as I passed the door of my little -chamber, which was dark, I had an indistinct impression of her being -within it, cast down upon the floor. But, whether it was really she, or -whether it was a confusion of the shadows in the room, I don't know now. - -I had leisure to think, before the kitchen fire, of pretty little -Emily's dread of death--which, added to what Mr. Omer had told me, I -took to be the cause of her being so unlike herself--and I had leisure, -before Peggotty came down, even to think more leniently of the weakness -of it: as I sat counting the ticking of the clock, and deepening my -sense of the solemn hush around me. Peggotty took me in her arms, and -blessed and thanked me over and over again for being such a comfort to -her (that was what she said) in her distress. She then entreated me to -come upstairs, sobbing that Mr. Barkis had always liked me and admired -me; that he had often talked of me, before he fell into a stupor; and -that she believed, in case of his coming to himself again, he would -brighten up at sight of me, if he could brighten up at any earthly -thing. - -The probability of his ever doing so, appeared to me, when I saw him, to -be very small. He was lying with his head and shoulders out of bed, in -an uncomfortable attitude, half resting on the box which had cost him so -much pain and trouble. I learned, that, when he was past creeping out of -bed to open it, and past assuring himself of its safety by means of the -divining rod I had seen him use, he had required to have it placed on -the chair at the bed-side, where he had ever since embraced it, night -and day. His arm lay on it now. Time and the world were slipping from -beneath him, but the box was there; and the last words he had uttered -were (in an explanatory tone) 'Old clothes!' - -'Barkis, my dear!' said Peggotty, almost cheerfully: bending over him, -while her brother and I stood at the bed's foot. 'Here's my dear boy--my -dear boy, Master Davy, who brought us together, Barkis! That you sent -messages by, you know! Won't you speak to Master Davy?' - -He was as mute and senseless as the box, from which his form derived the -only expression it had. - -'He's a going out with the tide,' said Mr. Peggotty to me, behind his -hand. - -My eyes were dim and so were Mr. Peggotty's; but I repeated in a -whisper, 'With the tide?' - -'People can't die, along the coast,' said Mr. Peggotty, 'except when -the tide's pretty nigh out. They can't be born, unless it's pretty nigh -in--not properly born, till flood. He's a going out with the tide. It's -ebb at half-arter three, slack water half an hour. If he lives till it -turns, he'll hold his own till past the flood, and go out with the next -tide.' - -We remained there, watching him, a long time--hours. What mysterious -influence my presence had upon him in that state of his senses, I shall -not pretend to say; but when he at last began to wander feebly, it is -certain he was muttering about driving me to school. - -'He's coming to himself,' said Peggotty. - -Mr. Peggotty touched me, and whispered with much awe and reverence. -'They are both a-going out fast.' - -'Barkis, my dear!' said Peggotty. - -'C. P. Barkis,' he cried faintly. 'No better woman anywhere!' - -'Look! Here's Master Davy!' said Peggotty. For he now opened his eyes. - -I was on the point of asking him if he knew me, when he tried to stretch -out his arm, and said to me, distinctly, with a pleasant smile: - -'Barkis is willin'!' - -And, it being low water, he went out with the tide. - - - -CHAPTER 31. A GREATER LOSS - - -It was not difficult for me, on Peggotty's solicitation, to resolve to -stay where I was, until after the remains of the poor carrier should -have made their last journey to Blunderstone. She had long ago bought, -out of her own savings, a little piece of ground in our old churchyard -near the grave of 'her sweet girl', as she always called my mother; and -there they were to rest. - -In keeping Peggotty company, and doing all I could for her (little -enough at the utmost), I was as grateful, I rejoice to think, as even -now I could wish myself to have been. But I am afraid I had a supreme -satisfaction, of a personal and professional nature, in taking charge of -Mr. Barkis's will, and expounding its contents. - -I may claim the merit of having originated the suggestion that the will -should be looked for in the box. After some search, it was found in the -box, at the bottom of a horse's nose-bag; wherein (besides hay) there -was discovered an old gold watch, with chain and seals, which Mr. Barkis -had worn on his wedding-day, and which had never been seen before or -since; a silver tobacco-stopper, in the form of a leg; an imitation -lemon, full of minute cups and saucers, which I have some idea Mr. -Barkis must have purchased to present to me when I was a child, and -afterwards found himself unable to part with; eighty-seven guineas and -a half, in guineas and half-guineas; two hundred and ten pounds, in -perfectly clean Bank notes; certain receipts for Bank of England -stock; an old horseshoe, a bad shilling, a piece of camphor, and an -oyster-shell. From the circumstance of the latter article having -been much polished, and displaying prismatic colours on the inside, -I conclude that Mr. Barkis had some general ideas about pearls, which -never resolved themselves into anything definite. - -For years and years, Mr. Barkis had carried this box, on all his -journeys, every day. That it might the better escape notice, he had -invented a fiction that it belonged to 'Mr. Blackboy', and was 'to be -left with Barkis till called for'; a fable he had elaborately written on -the lid, in characters now scarcely legible. - -He had hoarded, all these years, I found, to good purpose. His property -in money amounted to nearly three thousand pounds. Of this he bequeathed -the interest of one thousand to Mr. Peggotty for his life; on his -decease, the principal to be equally divided between Peggotty, little -Emily, and me, or the survivor or survivors of us, share and share -alike. All the rest he died possessed of, he bequeathed to Peggotty; -whom he left residuary legatee, and sole executrix of that his last will -and testament. - -I felt myself quite a proctor when I read this document aloud with all -possible ceremony, and set forth its provisions, any number of times, -to those whom they concerned. I began to think there was more in the -Commons than I had supposed. I examined the will with the deepest -attention, pronounced it perfectly formal in all respects, made a -pencil-mark or so in the margin, and thought it rather extraordinary -that I knew so much. - -In this abstruse pursuit; in making an account for Peggotty, of all the -property into which she had come; in arranging all the affairs in an -orderly manner; and in being her referee and adviser on every point, to -our joint delight; I passed the week before the funeral. I did not see -little Emily in that interval, but they told me she was to be quietly -married in a fortnight. - -I did not attend the funeral in character, if I may venture to say so. -I mean I was not dressed up in a black coat and a streamer, to frighten -the birds; but I walked over to Blunderstone early in the morning, and -was in the churchyard when it came, attended only by Peggotty and her -brother. The mad gentleman looked on, out of my little window; Mr. -Chillip's baby wagged its heavy head, and rolled its goggle eyes, at -the clergyman, over its nurse's shoulder; Mr. Omer breathed short in -the background; no one else was there; and it was very quiet. We walked -about the churchyard for an hour, after all was over; and pulled some -young leaves from the tree above my mother's grave. - -A dread falls on me here. A cloud is lowering on the distant town, -towards which I retraced my solitary steps. I fear to approach it. I -cannot bear to think of what did come, upon that memorable night; of -what must come again, if I go on. - -It is no worse, because I write of it. It would be no better, if I -stopped my most unwilling hand. It is done. Nothing can undo it; nothing -can make it otherwise than as it was. - -My old nurse was to go to London with me next day, on the business of -the will. Little Emily was passing that day at Mr. Omer's. We were all -to meet in the old boathouse that night. Ham would bring Emily at the -usual hour. I would walk back at my leisure. The brother and sister -would return as they had come, and be expecting us, when the day closed -in, at the fireside. - -I parted from them at the wicket-gate, where visionary Strap had rested -with Roderick Random's knapsack in the days of yore; and, instead of -going straight back, walked a little distance on the road to Lowestoft. -Then I turned, and walked back towards Yarmouth. I stayed to dine at -a decent alehouse, some mile or two from the Ferry I have mentioned -before; and thus the day wore away, and it was evening when I reached -it. Rain was falling heavily by that time, and it was a wild night; but -there was a moon behind the clouds, and it was not dark. - -I was soon within sight of Mr. Peggotty's house, and of the light within -it shining through the window. A little floundering across the sand, -which was heavy, brought me to the door, and I went in. - -It looked very comfortable indeed. Mr. Peggotty had smoked his evening -pipe and there were preparations for some supper by and by. The fire was -bright, the ashes were thrown up, the locker was ready for little Emily -in her old place. In her own old place sat Peggotty, once more, looking -(but for her dress) as if she had never left it. She had fallen back, -already, on the society of the work-box with St. Paul's upon the lid, -the yard-measure in the cottage, and the bit of wax-candle; and there -they all were, just as if they had never been disturbed. Mrs. Gummidge -appeared to be fretting a little, in her old corner; and consequently -looked quite natural, too. - -'You're first of the lot, Mas'r Davy!' said Mr. Peggotty with a happy -face. 'Doen't keep in that coat, sir, if it's wet.' - -'Thank you, Mr. Peggotty,' said I, giving him my outer coat to hang up. -'It's quite dry.' - -'So 'tis!' said Mr. Peggotty, feeling my shoulders. 'As a chip! Sit ye -down, sir. It ain't o' no use saying welcome to you, but you're welcome, -kind and hearty.' - -'Thank you, Mr. Peggotty, I am sure of that. Well, Peggotty!' said I, -giving her a kiss. 'And how are you, old woman?' - -'Ha, ha!' laughed Mr. Peggotty, sitting down beside us, and rubbing his -hands in his sense of relief from recent trouble, and in the genuine -heartiness of his nature; 'there's not a woman in the wureld, sir--as I -tell her--that need to feel more easy in her mind than her! She done her -dooty by the departed, and the departed know'd it; and the departed -done what was right by her, as she done what was right by the -departed;--and--and--and it's all right!' - -Mrs. Gummidge groaned. - -'Cheer up, my pritty mawther!' said Mr. Peggotty. (But he shook his head -aside at us, evidently sensible of the tendency of the late occurrences -to recall the memory of the old one.) 'Doen't be down! Cheer up, for -your own self, on'y a little bit, and see if a good deal more doen't -come nat'ral!' - -'Not to me, Dan'l,' returned Mrs. Gummidge. 'Nothink's nat'ral to me but -to be lone and lorn.' - -'No, no,' said Mr. Peggotty, soothing her sorrows. - -'Yes, yes, Dan'l!' said Mrs. Gummidge. 'I ain't a person to live with -them as has had money left. Things go too contrary with me. I had better -be a riddance.' - -'Why, how should I ever spend it without you?' said Mr. Peggotty, with -an air of serious remonstrance. 'What are you a talking on? Doen't I -want you more now, than ever I did?' - -'I know'd I was never wanted before!' cried Mrs. Gummidge, with a -pitiable whimper, 'and now I'm told so! How could I expect to be wanted, -being so lone and lorn, and so contrary!' - -Mr. Peggotty seemed very much shocked at himself for having made a -speech capable of this unfeeling construction, but was prevented from -replying, by Peggotty's pulling his sleeve, and shaking her head. After -looking at Mrs. Gummidge for some moments, in sore distress of mind, he -glanced at the Dutch clock, rose, snuffed the candle, and put it in the -window. - -'Theer!' said Mr. Peggotty, cheerily. 'Theer we are, Missis Gummidge!' -Mrs. Gummidge slightly groaned. 'Lighted up, accordin' to custom! You're -a wonderin' what that's fur, sir! Well, it's fur our little Em'ly. You -see, the path ain't over light or cheerful arter dark; and when I'm -here at the hour as she's a comin' home, I puts the light in the winder. -That, you see,' said Mr. Peggotty, bending over me with great glee, -'meets two objects. She says, says Em'ly, "Theer's home!" she says. And -likewise, says Em'ly, "My uncle's theer!" Fur if I ain't theer, I never -have no light showed.' - -'You're a baby!' said Peggotty; very fond of him for it, if she thought -so. - -'Well,' returned Mr. Peggotty, standing with his legs pretty wide apart, -and rubbing his hands up and down them in his comfortable satisfaction, -as he looked alternately at us and at the fire. 'I doen't know but I am. -Not, you see, to look at.' - -'Not azackly,' observed Peggotty. - -'No,' laughed Mr. Peggotty, 'not to look at, but to--to consider on, you -know. I doen't care, bless you! Now I tell you. When I go a looking and -looking about that theer pritty house of our Em'ly's, I'm--I'm Gormed,' -said Mr. Peggotty, with sudden emphasis--'theer! I can't say more--if -I doen't feel as if the littlest things was her, a'most. I takes 'em up -and I put 'em down, and I touches of 'em as delicate as if they was our -Em'ly. So 'tis with her little bonnets and that. I couldn't see one on -'em rough used a purpose--not fur the whole wureld. There's a babby fur -you, in the form of a great Sea Porkypine!' said Mr. Peggotty, relieving -his earnestness with a roar of laughter. - -Peggotty and I both laughed, but not so loud. - -'It's my opinion, you see,' said Mr. Peggotty, with a delighted face, -after some further rubbing of his legs, 'as this is along of my havin' -played with her so much, and made believe as we was Turks, and French, -and sharks, and every wariety of forinners--bless you, yes; and lions -and whales, and I doen't know what all!--when she warn't no higher than -my knee. I've got into the way on it, you know. Why, this here candle, -now!' said Mr. Peggotty, gleefully holding out his hand towards it, -'I know wery well that arter she's married and gone, I shall put that -candle theer, just the same as now. I know wery well that when I'm -here o' nights (and where else should I live, bless your arts, whatever -fortun' I come into!) and she ain't here or I ain't theer, I shall -put the candle in the winder, and sit afore the fire, pretending I'm -expecting of her, like I'm a doing now. THERE'S a babby for you,' said -Mr. Peggotty, with another roar, 'in the form of a Sea Porkypine! Why, -at the present minute, when I see the candle sparkle up, I says to -myself, "She's a looking at it! Em'ly's a coming!" THERE'S a babby -for you, in the form of a Sea Porkypine! Right for all that,' said Mr. -Peggotty, stopping in his roar, and smiting his hands together; 'fur -here she is!' - -It was only Ham. The night should have turned more wet since I came in, -for he had a large sou'wester hat on, slouched over his face. - -'Wheer's Em'ly?' said Mr. Peggotty. - -Ham made a motion with his head, as if she were outside. Mr. Peggotty -took the light from the window, trimmed it, put it on the table, and was -busily stirring the fire, when Ham, who had not moved, said: - -'Mas'r Davy, will you come out a minute, and see what Em'ly and me has -got to show you?' - -We went out. As I passed him at the door, I saw, to my astonishment and -fright, that he was deadly pale. He pushed me hastily into the open air, -and closed the door upon us. Only upon us two. - -'Ham! what's the matter?' - -'Mas'r Davy!--' Oh, for his broken heart, how dreadfully he wept! - -I was paralysed by the sight of such grief. I don't know what I thought, -or what I dreaded. I could only look at him. - -'Ham! Poor good fellow! For Heaven's sake, tell me what's the matter!' - -'My love, Mas'r Davy--the pride and hope of my art--her that I'd have -died for, and would die for now--she's gone!' - -'Gone!' - -'Em'ly's run away! Oh, Mas'r Davy, think HOW she's run away, when I -pray my good and gracious God to kill her (her that is so dear above all -things) sooner than let her come to ruin and disgrace!' - -The face he turned up to the troubled sky, the quivering of his clasped -hands, the agony of his figure, remain associated with the lonely waste, -in my remembrance, to this hour. It is always night there, and he is the -only object in the scene. - -'You're a scholar,' he said, hurriedly, 'and know what's right and -best. What am I to say, indoors? How am I ever to break it to him, Mas'r -Davy?' - -I saw the door move, and instinctively tried to hold the latch on the -outside, to gain a moment's time. It was too late. Mr. Peggotty thrust -forth his face; and never could I forget the change that came upon it -when he saw us, if I were to live five hundred years. - -I remember a great wail and cry, and the women hanging about him, and we -all standing in the room; I with a paper in my hand, which Ham had given -me; Mr. Peggotty, with his vest torn open, his hair wild, his face and -lips quite white, and blood trickling down his bosom (it had sprung from -his mouth, I think), looking fixedly at me. - -'Read it, sir,' he said, in a low shivering voice. 'Slow, please. I -doen't know as I can understand.' - -In the midst of the silence of death, I read thus, from a blotted -letter: - - -'"When you, who love me so much better than I ever have deserved, even -when my mind was innocent, see this, I shall be far away."' - - -'I shall be fur away,' he repeated slowly. 'Stop! Em'ly fur away. Well!' - - -'"When I leave my dear home--my dear home--oh, my dear home!--in the -morning,"' - -the letter bore date on the previous night: - - -'"--it will be never to come back, unless he brings me back a lady. This -will be found at night, many hours after, instead of me. Oh, if you knew -how my heart is torn. If even you, that I have wronged so much, that -never can forgive me, could only know what I suffer! I am too wicked to -write about myself! Oh, take comfort in thinking that I am so bad. Oh, -for mercy's sake, tell uncle that I never loved him half so dear as -now. Oh, don't remember how affectionate and kind you have all been to -me--don't remember we were ever to be married--but try to think as if I -died when I was little, and was buried somewhere. Pray Heaven that I -am going away from, have compassion on my uncle! Tell him that I never -loved him half so dear. Be his comfort. Love some good girl that will -be what I was once to uncle, and be true to you, and worthy of you, and -know no shame but me. God bless all! I'll pray for all, often, on my -knees. If he don't bring me back a lady, and I don't pray for my own -self, I'll pray for all. My parting love to uncle. My last tears, and my -last thanks, for uncle!"' - -That was all. - -He stood, long after I had ceased to read, still looking at me. At -length I ventured to take his hand, and to entreat him, as well as -I could, to endeavour to get some command of himself. He replied, 'I -thankee, sir, I thankee!' without moving. - -Ham spoke to him. Mr. Peggotty was so far sensible of HIS affliction, -that he wrung his hand; but, otherwise, he remained in the same state, -and no one dared to disturb him. - -Slowly, at last, he moved his eyes from my face, as if he were waking -from a vision, and cast them round the room. Then he said, in a low -voice: - -'Who's the man? I want to know his name.' - -Ham glanced at me, and suddenly I felt a shock that struck me back. - -'There's a man suspected,' said Mr. Peggotty. 'Who is it?' - -'Mas'r Davy!' implored Ham. 'Go out a bit, and let me tell him what I -must. You doen't ought to hear it, sir.' - -I felt the shock again. I sank down in a chair, and tried to utter some -reply; but my tongue was fettered, and my sight was weak. - -'I want to know his name!' I heard said once more. - -'For some time past,' Ham faltered, 'there's been a servant about here, -at odd times. There's been a gen'lm'n too. Both of 'em belonged to one -another.' - -Mr. Peggotty stood fixed as before, but now looking at him. - -'The servant,' pursued Ham, 'was seen along with--our poor girl--last -night. He's been in hiding about here, this week or over. He was thought -to have gone, but he was hiding. Doen't stay, Mas'r Davy, doen't!' - -I felt Peggotty's arm round my neck, but I could not have moved if the -house had been about to fall upon me. - -'A strange chay and hosses was outside town, this morning, on the -Norwich road, a'most afore the day broke,' Ham went on. 'The servant -went to it, and come from it, and went to it again. When he went to it -again, Em'ly was nigh him. The t'other was inside. He's the man.' - -'For the Lord's love,' said Mr. Peggotty, falling back, and putting out -his hand, as if to keep off what he dreaded. 'Doen't tell me his name's -Steerforth!' - -'Mas'r Davy,' exclaimed Ham, in a broken voice, 'it ain't no fault -of yourn--and I am far from laying of it to you--but his name is -Steerforth, and he's a damned villain!' - -Mr. Peggotty uttered no cry, and shed no tear, and moved no more, until -he seemed to wake again, all at once, and pulled down his rough coat -from its peg in a corner. - -'Bear a hand with this! I'm struck of a heap, and can't do it,' he said, -impatiently. 'Bear a hand and help me. Well!' when somebody had done so. -'Now give me that theer hat!' - -Ham asked him whither he was going. - -'I'm a going to seek my niece. I'm a going to seek my Em'ly. I'm a -going, first, to stave in that theer boat, and sink it where I would -have drownded him, as I'm a living soul, if I had had one thought of -what was in him! As he sat afore me,' he said, wildly, holding out his -clenched right hand, 'as he sat afore me, face to face, strike me down -dead, but I'd have drownded him, and thought it right!--I'm a going to -seek my niece.' - -'Where?' cried Ham, interposing himself before the door. - -'Anywhere! I'm a going to seek my niece through the wureld. I'm a going -to find my poor niece in her shame, and bring her back. No one stop me! -I tell you I'm a going to seek my niece!' - -'No, no!' cried Mrs. Gummidge, coming between them, in a fit of crying. -'No, no, Dan'l, not as you are now. Seek her in a little while, my lone -lorn Dan'l, and that'll be but right! but not as you are now. Sit ye -down, and give me your forgiveness for having ever been a worrit to you, -Dan'l--what have my contraries ever been to this!--and let us speak a -word about them times when she was first an orphan, and when Ham was -too, and when I was a poor widder woman, and you took me in. It'll -soften your poor heart, Dan'l,' laying her head upon his shoulder, 'and -you'll bear your sorrow better; for you know the promise, Dan'l, "As -you have done it unto one of the least of these, you have done it unto -me",--and that can never fail under this roof, that's been our shelter -for so many, many year!' - -He was quite passive now; and when I heard him crying, the impulse that -had been upon me to go down upon my knees, and ask their pardon for the -desolation I had caused, and curse Steerforth, yielded to a better -feeling. My overcharged heart found the same relief, and I cried too. - - - -CHAPTER 32. THE BEGINNING OF A LONG JOURNEY - - -What is natural in me, is natural in many other men, I infer, and so -I am not afraid to write that I never had loved Steerforth better than -when the ties that bound me to him were broken. In the keen distress -of the discovery of his unworthiness, I thought more of all that was -brilliant in him, I softened more towards all that was good in him, I -did more justice to the qualities that might have made him a man of a -noble nature and a great name, than ever I had done in the height of -my devotion to him. Deeply as I felt my own unconscious part in his -pollution of an honest home, I believed that if I had been brought face -to face with him, I could not have uttered one reproach. I should have -loved him so well still--though he fascinated me no longer--I should -have held in so much tenderness the memory of my affection for him, that -I think I should have been as weak as a spirit-wounded child, in all -but the entertainment of a thought that we could ever be re-united. -That thought I never had. I felt, as he had felt, that all was at an end -between us. What his remembrances of me were, I have never known--they -were light enough, perhaps, and easily dismissed--but mine of him were -as the remembrances of a cherished friend, who was dead. - -Yes, Steerforth, long removed from the scenes of this poor history! My -sorrow may bear involuntary witness against you at the judgement Throne; -but my angry thoughts or my reproaches never will, I know! - -The news of what had happened soon spread through the town; insomuch -that as I passed along the streets next morning, I overheard the people -speaking of it at their doors. Many were hard upon her, some few were -hard upon him, but towards her second father and her lover there was -but one sentiment. Among all kinds of people a respect for them in -their distress prevailed, which was full of gentleness and delicacy. The -seafaring men kept apart, when those two were seen early, walking with -slow steps on the beach; and stood in knots, talking compassionately -among themselves. - -It was on the beach, close down by the sea, that I found them. It would -have been easy to perceive that they had not slept all last night, even -if Peggotty had failed to tell me of their still sitting just as I -left them, when it was broad day. They looked worn; and I thought Mr. -Peggotty's head was bowed in one night more than in all the years I had -known him. But they were both as grave and steady as the sea itself, -then lying beneath a dark sky, waveless--yet with a heavy roll upon it, -as if it breathed in its rest--and touched, on the horizon, with a strip -of silvery light from the unseen sun. - -'We have had a mort of talk, sir,' said Mr. Peggotty to me, when we had -all three walked a little while in silence, 'of what we ought and doen't -ought to do. But we see our course now.' - -I happened to glance at Ham, then looking out to sea upon the distant -light, and a frightful thought came into my mind--not that his face -was angry, for it was not; I recall nothing but an expression of stern -determination in it--that if ever he encountered Steerforth, he would -kill him. - -'My dooty here, sir,' said Mr. Peggotty, 'is done. I'm a going to seek -my--' he stopped, and went on in a firmer voice: 'I'm a going to seek -her. That's my dooty evermore.' - -He shook his head when I asked him where he would seek her, and inquired -if I were going to London tomorrow? I told him I had not gone today, -fearing to lose the chance of being of any service to him; but that I -was ready to go when he would. - -'I'll go along with you, sir,' he rejoined, 'if you're agreeable, -tomorrow.' - -We walked again, for a while, in silence. - -'Ham,'he presently resumed,'he'll hold to his present work, and go and -live along with my sister. The old boat yonder--' - -'Will you desert the old boat, Mr. Peggotty?' I gently interposed. - -'My station, Mas'r Davy,' he returned, 'ain't there no longer; and if -ever a boat foundered, since there was darkness on the face of the deep, -that one's gone down. But no, sir, no; I doen't mean as it should be -deserted. Fur from that.' - -We walked again for a while, as before, until he explained: - -'My wishes is, sir, as it shall look, day and night, winter and summer, -as it has always looked, since she fust know'd it. If ever she should -come a wandering back, I wouldn't have the old place seem to cast her -off, you understand, but seem to tempt her to draw nigher to 't, and to -peep in, maybe, like a ghost, out of the wind and rain, through the old -winder, at the old seat by the fire. Then, maybe, Mas'r Davy, seein' -none but Missis Gummidge there, she might take heart to creep in, -trembling; and might come to be laid down in her old bed, and rest her -weary head where it was once so gay.' - -I could not speak to him in reply, though I tried. - -'Every night,' said Mr. Peggotty, 'as reg'lar as the night comes, the -candle must be stood in its old pane of glass, that if ever she should -see it, it may seem to say "Come back, my child, come back!" If ever -there's a knock, Ham (partic'ler a soft knock), arter dark, at your -aunt's door, doen't you go nigh it. Let it be her--not you--that sees my -fallen child!' - -He walked a little in front of us, and kept before us for some minutes. -During this interval, I glanced at Ham again, and observing the same -expression on his face, and his eyes still directed to the distant -light, I touched his arm. - -Twice I called him by his name, in the tone in which I might have tried -to rouse a sleeper, before he heeded me. When I at last inquired on what -his thoughts were so bent, he replied: - -'On what's afore me, Mas'r Davy; and over yon.' 'On the life before you, -do you mean?' He had pointed confusedly out to sea. - -'Ay, Mas'r Davy. I doen't rightly know how 'tis, but from over yon there -seemed to me to come--the end of it like,' looking at me as if he were -waking, but with the same determined face. - -'What end?' I asked, possessed by my former fear. - -'I doen't know,'he said, thoughtfully; 'I was calling to mind that the -beginning of it all did take place here--and then the end come. But it's -gone! Mas'r Davy,' he added; answering, as I think, my look; 'you han't -no call to be afeerd of me: but I'm kiender muddled; I don't fare to -feel no matters,'--which was as much as to say that he was not himself, -and quite confounded. - -Mr. Peggotty stopping for us to join him: we did so, and said no more. -The remembrance of this, in connexion with my former thought, however, -haunted me at intervals, even until the inexorable end came at its -appointed time. - -We insensibly approached the old boat, and entered. Mrs. Gummidge, no -longer moping in her especial corner, was busy preparing breakfast. -She took Mr. Peggotty's hat, and placed his seat for him, and spoke so -comfortably and softly, that I hardly knew her. - -'Dan'l, my good man,' said she, 'you must eat and drink, and keep up -your strength, for without it you'll do nowt. Try, that's a dear soul! -An if I disturb you with my clicketten,' she meant her chattering, 'tell -me so, Dan'l, and I won't.' - -When she had served us all, she withdrew to the window, where she -sedulously employed herself in repairing some shirts and other clothes -belonging to Mr. Peggotty, and neatly folding and packing them in an old -oilskin bag, such as sailors carry. Meanwhile, she continued talking, in -the same quiet manner: - -'All times and seasons, you know, Dan'l,' said Mrs. Gummidge, 'I shall -be allus here, and everythink will look accordin' to your wishes. I'm a -poor scholar, but I shall write to you, odd times, when you're away, and -send my letters to Mas'r Davy. Maybe you'll write to me too, Dan'l, odd -times, and tell me how you fare to feel upon your lone lorn journies.' - -'You'll be a solitary woman heer, I'm afeerd!' said Mr. Peggotty. - -'No, no, Dan'l,' she returned, 'I shan't be that. Doen't you mind me. I -shall have enough to do to keep a Beein for you' (Mrs. Gummidge meant a -home), 'again you come back--to keep a Beein here for any that may hap -to come back, Dan'l. In the fine time, I shall set outside the door as I -used to do. If any should come nigh, they shall see the old widder woman -true to 'em, a long way off.' - -What a change in Mrs. Gummidge in a little time! She was another woman. -She was so devoted, she had such a quick perception of what it would -be well to say, and what it would be well to leave unsaid; she was so -forgetful of herself, and so regardful of the sorrow about her, that I -held her in a sort of veneration. The work she did that day! There -were many things to be brought up from the beach and stored in the -outhouse--as oars, nets, sails, cordage, spars, lobster-pots, bags of -ballast, and the like; and though there was abundance of assistance -rendered, there being not a pair of working hands on all that shore but -would have laboured hard for Mr. Peggotty, and been well paid in being -asked to do it, yet she persisted, all day long, in toiling under -weights that she was quite unequal to, and fagging to and fro on all -sorts of unnecessary errands. As to deploring her misfortunes, she -appeared to have entirely lost the recollection of ever having had any. -She preserved an equable cheerfulness in the midst of her sympathy, -which was not the least astonishing part of the change that had come -over her. Querulousness was out of the question. I did not even observe -her voice to falter, or a tear to escape from her eyes, the whole day -through, until twilight; when she and I and Mr. Peggotty being alone -together, and he having fallen asleep in perfect exhaustion, she broke -into a half-suppressed fit of sobbing and crying, and taking me to the -door, said, 'Ever bless you, Mas'r Davy, be a friend to him, poor dear!' -Then, she immediately ran out of the house to wash her face, in order -that she might sit quietly beside him, and be found at work there, when -he should awake. In short I left her, when I went away at night, the -prop and staff of Mr. Peggotty's affliction; and I could not meditate -enough upon the lesson that I read in Mrs. Gummidge, and the new -experience she unfolded to me. - -It was between nine and ten o'clock when, strolling in a melancholy -manner through the town, I stopped at Mr. Omer's door. Mr. Omer had -taken it so much to heart, his daughter told me, that he had been very -low and poorly all day, and had gone to bed without his pipe. - -'A deceitful, bad-hearted girl,' said Mrs. Joram. 'There was no good in -her, ever!' - -'Don't say so,' I returned. 'You don't think so.' - -'Yes, I do!' cried Mrs. Joram, angrily. - -'No, no,' said I. - -Mrs. Joram tossed her head, endeavouring to be very stern and cross; but -she could not command her softer self, and began to cry. I was young, -to be sure; but I thought much the better of her for this sympathy, and -fancied it became her, as a virtuous wife and mother, very well indeed. - -'What will she ever do!' sobbed Minnie. 'Where will she go! What will -become of her! Oh, how could she be so cruel, to herself and him!' - -I remembered the time when Minnie was a young and pretty girl; and I was -glad she remembered it too, so feelingly. - -'My little Minnie,' said Mrs. Joram, 'has only just now been got to -sleep. Even in her sleep she is sobbing for Em'ly. All day long, little -Minnie has cried for her, and asked me, over and over again, whether -Em'ly was wicked? What can I say to her, when Em'ly tied a ribbon off -her own neck round little Minnie's the last night she was here, and laid -her head down on the pillow beside her till she was fast asleep! The -ribbon's round my little Minnie's neck now. It ought not to be, perhaps, -but what can I do? Em'ly is very bad, but they were fond of one another. -And the child knows nothing!' - -Mrs. Joram was so unhappy that her husband came out to take care of -her. Leaving them together, I went home to Peggotty's; more melancholy -myself, if possible, than I had been yet. - -That good creature--I mean Peggotty--all untired by her late anxieties -and sleepless nights, was at her brother's, where she meant to stay till -morning. An old woman, who had been employed about the house for some -weeks past, while Peggotty had been unable to attend to it, was the -house's only other occupant besides myself. As I had no occasion for her -services, I sent her to bed, by no means against her will, and sat down -before the kitchen fire a little while, to think about all this. - -I was blending it with the deathbed of the late Mr. Barkis, and was -driving out with the tide towards the distance at which Ham had looked -so singularly in the morning, when I was recalled from my wanderings by -a knock at the door. There was a knocker upon the door, but it was not -that which made the sound. The tap was from a hand, and low down upon -the door, as if it were given by a child. - -It made me start as much as if it had been the knock of a footman to a -person of distinction. I opened the door; and at first looked down, -to my amazement, on nothing but a great umbrella that appeared to be -walking about of itself. But presently I discovered underneath it, Miss -Mowcher. - -I might not have been prepared to give the little creature a very kind -reception, if, on her removing the umbrella, which her utmost efforts -were unable to shut up, she had shown me the 'volatile' expression of -face which had made so great an impression on me at our first and last -meeting. But her face, as she turned it up to mine, was so earnest; -and when I relieved her of the umbrella (which would have been an -inconvenient one for the Irish Giant), she wrung her little hands in -such an afflicted manner; that I rather inclined towards her. - -'Miss Mowcher!' said I, after glancing up and down the empty street, -without distinctly knowing what I expected to see besides; 'how do you -come here? What is the matter?' She motioned to me with her short right -arm, to shut the umbrella for her; and passing me hurriedly, went into -the kitchen. When I had closed the door, and followed, with the umbrella -in my hand, I found her sitting on the corner of the fender--it was a -low iron one, with two flat bars at top to stand plates upon--in the -shadow of the boiler, swaying herself backwards and forwards, and -chafing her hands upon her knees like a person in pain. - -Quite alarmed at being the only recipient of this untimely visit, and -the only spectator of this portentous behaviour, I exclaimed again, -'Pray tell me, Miss Mowcher, what is the matter! are you ill?' - -'My dear young soul,' returned Miss Mowcher, squeezing her hands upon -her heart one over the other. 'I am ill here, I am very ill. To think -that it should come to this, when I might have known it and perhaps -prevented it, if I hadn't been a thoughtless fool!' - -Again her large bonnet (very disproportionate to the figure) went -backwards and forwards, in her swaying of her little body to and fro; -while a most gigantic bonnet rocked, in unison with it, upon the wall. - -'I am surprised,' I began, 'to see you so distressed and serious'--when -she interrupted me. - -'Yes, it's always so!' she said. 'They are all surprised, these -inconsiderate young people, fairly and full grown, to see any natural -feeling in a little thing like me! They make a plaything of me, use me -for their amusement, throw me away when they are tired, and wonder that -I feel more than a toy horse or a wooden soldier! Yes, yes, that's the -way. The old way!' - -'It may be, with others,' I returned, 'but I do assure you it is not -with me. Perhaps I ought not to be at all surprised to see you as you -are now: I know so little of you. I said, without consideration, what I -thought.' - -'What can I do?' returned the little woman, standing up, and holding out -her arms to show herself. 'See! What I am, my father was; and my sister -is; and my brother is. I have worked for sister and brother these many -years--hard, Mr. Copperfield--all day. I must live. I do no harm. If -there are people so unreflecting or so cruel, as to make a jest of -me, what is left for me to do but to make a jest of myself, them, and -everything? If I do so, for the time, whose fault is that? Mine?' - -No. Not Miss Mowcher's, I perceived. - -'If I had shown myself a sensitive dwarf to your false friend,' pursued -the little woman, shaking her head at me, with reproachful earnestness, -'how much of his help or good will do you think I should ever have had? -If little Mowcher (who had no hand, young gentleman, in the making of -herself) addressed herself to him, or the like of him, because of her -misfortunes, when do you suppose her small voice would have been heard? -Little Mowcher would have as much need to live, if she was the bitterest -and dullest of pigmies; but she couldn't do it. No. She might whistle -for her bread and butter till she died of Air.' - -Miss Mowcher sat down on the fender again, and took out her -handkerchief, and wiped her eyes. - -'Be thankful for me, if you have a kind heart, as I think you have,' she -said, 'that while I know well what I am, I can be cheerful and endure it -all. I am thankful for myself, at any rate, that I can find my tiny way -through the world, without being beholden to anyone; and that in return -for all that is thrown at me, in folly or vanity, as I go along, I can -throw bubbles back. If I don't brood over all I want, it is the better -for me, and not the worse for anyone. If I am a plaything for you -giants, be gentle with me.' - -Miss Mowcher replaced her handkerchief in her pocket, looking at me with -very intent expression all the while, and pursued: - -'I saw you in the street just now. You may suppose I am not able to -walk as fast as you, with my short legs and short breath, and I couldn't -overtake you; but I guessed where you came, and came after you. I have -been here before, today, but the good woman wasn't at home.' - -'Do you know her?' I demanded. - -'I know of her, and about her,' she replied, 'from Omer and Joram. I -was there at seven o'clock this morning. Do you remember what Steerforth -said to me about this unfortunate girl, that time when I saw you both at -the inn?' - -The great bonnet on Miss Mowcher's head, and the greater bonnet on -the wall, began to go backwards and forwards again when she asked this -question. - -I remembered very well what she referred to, having had it in my -thoughts many times that day. I told her so. - -'May the Father of all Evil confound him,' said the little woman, -holding up her forefinger between me and her sparkling eyes, 'and ten -times more confound that wicked servant; but I believed it was YOU who -had a boyish passion for her!' - -'I?' I repeated. - -'Child, child! In the name of blind ill-fortune,' cried Miss Mowcher, -wringing her hands impatiently, as she went to and fro again upon the -fender, 'why did you praise her so, and blush, and look disturbed?' - -I could not conceal from myself that I had done this, though for a -reason very different from her supposition. - -'What did I know?' said Miss Mowcher, taking out her handkerchief again, -and giving one little stamp on the ground whenever, at short intervals, -she applied it to her eyes with both hands at once. 'He was crossing you -and wheedling you, I saw; and you were soft wax in his hands, I saw. Had -I left the room a minute, when his man told me that "Young Innocence" -(so he called you, and you may call him "Old Guilt" all the days of your -life) had set his heart upon her, and she was giddy and liked him, but -his master was resolved that no harm should come of it--more for your -sake than for hers--and that that was their business here? How could I -BUT believe him? I saw Steerforth soothe and please you by his praise -of her! You were the first to mention her name. You owned to an old -admiration of her. You were hot and cold, and red and white, all at once -when I spoke to you of her. What could I think--what DID I think--but -that you were a young libertine in everything but experience, and had -fallen into hands that had experience enough, and could manage you -(having the fancy) for your own good? Oh! oh! oh! They were afraid of my -finding out the truth,' exclaimed Miss Mowcher, getting off the -fender, and trotting up and down the kitchen with her two short arms -distressfully lifted up, 'because I am a sharp little thing--I need be, -to get through the world at all!--and they deceived me altogether, and -I gave the poor unfortunate girl a letter, which I fully believe was -the beginning of her ever speaking to Littimer, who was left behind on -purpose!' - -I stood amazed at the revelation of all this perfidy, looking at Miss -Mowcher as she walked up and down the kitchen until she was out of -breath: when she sat upon the fender again, and, drying her face with -her handkerchief, shook her head for a long time, without otherwise -moving, and without breaking silence. - -'My country rounds,' she added at length, 'brought me to Norwich, Mr. -Copperfield, the night before last. What I happened to find there, -about their secret way of coming and going, without you--which was -strange--led to my suspecting something wrong. I got into the coach -from London last night, as it came through Norwich, and was here this -morning. Oh, oh, oh! too late!' - -Poor little Mowcher turned so chilly after all her crying and fretting, -that she turned round on the fender, putting her poor little wet feet in -among the ashes to warm them, and sat looking at the fire, like a large -doll. I sat in a chair on the other side of the hearth, lost in unhappy -reflections, and looking at the fire too, and sometimes at her. - -'I must go,' she said at last, rising as she spoke. 'It's late. You -don't mistrust me?' - -Meeting her sharp glance, which was as sharp as ever when she asked me, -I could not on that short challenge answer no, quite frankly. - -'Come!' said she, accepting the offer of my hand to help her over the -fender, and looking wistfully up into my face, 'you know you wouldn't -mistrust me, if I was a full-sized woman!' - -I felt that there was much truth in this; and I felt rather ashamed of -myself. - -'You are a young man,' she said, nodding. 'Take a word of advice, -even from three foot nothing. Try not to associate bodily defects with -mental, my good friend, except for a solid reason.' - -She had got over the fender now, and I had got over my suspicion. I told -her that I believed she had given me a faithful account of herself, -and that we had both been hapless instruments in designing hands. She -thanked me, and said I was a good fellow. - -'Now, mind!' she exclaimed, turning back on her way to the door, and -looking shrewdly at me, with her forefinger up again.--'I have some -reason to suspect, from what I have heard--my ears are always open; I -can't afford to spare what powers I have--that they are gone abroad. But -if ever they return, if ever any one of them returns, while I am alive, -I am more likely than another, going about as I do, to find it out soon. -Whatever I know, you shall know. If ever I can do anything to serve the -poor betrayed girl, I will do it faithfully, please Heaven! And Littimer -had better have a bloodhound at his back, than little Mowcher!' - -I placed implicit faith in this last statement, when I marked the look -with which it was accompanied. - -'Trust me no more, but trust me no less, than you would trust a -full-sized woman,' said the little creature, touching me appealingly -on the wrist. 'If ever you see me again, unlike what I am now, and like -what I was when you first saw me, observe what company I am in. Call to -mind that I am a very helpless and defenceless little thing. Think of -me at home with my brother like myself and sister like myself, when my -day's work is done. Perhaps you won't, then, be very hard upon me, or -surprised if I can be distressed and serious. Good night!' - -I gave Miss Mowcher my hand, with a very different opinion of her from -that which I had hitherto entertained, and opened the door to let her -out. It was not a trifling business to get the great umbrella up, and -properly balanced in her grasp; but at last I successfully accomplished -this, and saw it go bobbing down the street through the rain, without -the least appearance of having anybody underneath it, except when a -heavier fall than usual from some over-charged water-spout sent it -toppling over, on one side, and discovered Miss Mowcher struggling -violently to get it right. After making one or two sallies to her -relief, which were rendered futile by the umbrella's hopping on again, -like an immense bird, before I could reach it, I came in, went to bed, -and slept till morning. - -In the morning I was joined by Mr. Peggotty and by my old nurse, and we -went at an early hour to the coach office, where Mrs. Gummidge and Ham -were waiting to take leave of us. - -'Mas'r Davy,' Ham whispered, drawing me aside, while Mr. Peggotty was -stowing his bag among the luggage, 'his life is quite broke up. He -doen't know wheer he's going; he doen't know--what's afore him; he's -bound upon a voyage that'll last, on and off, all the rest of his days, -take my wured for 't, unless he finds what he's a seeking of. I am sure -you'll be a friend to him, Mas'r Davy?' - -'Trust me, I will indeed,' said I, shaking hands with Ham earnestly. - -'Thankee. Thankee, very kind, sir. One thing furder. I'm in good employ, -you know, Mas'r Davy, and I han't no way now of spending what I gets. -Money's of no use to me no more, except to live. If you can lay it out -for him, I shall do my work with a better art. Though as to that, sir,' -and he spoke very steadily and mildly, 'you're not to think but I shall -work at all times, like a man, and act the best that lays in my power!' - -I told him I was well convinced of it; and I hinted that I hoped the -time might even come, when he would cease to lead the lonely life he -naturally contemplated now. - -'No, sir,' he said, shaking his head, 'all that's past and over with me, -sir. No one can never fill the place that's empty. But you'll bear in -mind about the money, as theer's at all times some laying by for him?' - -Reminding him of the fact, that Mr. Peggotty derived a steady, -though certainly a very moderate income from the bequest of his late -brother-in-law, I promised to do so. We then took leave of each other. I -cannot leave him even now, without remembering with a pang, at once his -modest fortitude and his great sorrow. - -As to Mrs. Gummidge, if I were to endeavour to describe how she ran down -the street by the side of the coach, seeing nothing but Mr. Peggotty on -the roof, through the tears she tried to repress, and dashing herself -against the people who were coming in the opposite direction, I should -enter on a task of some difficulty. Therefore I had better leave her -sitting on a baker's door-step, out of breath, with no shape at all -remaining in her bonnet, and one of her shoes off, lying on the pavement -at a considerable distance. - -When we got to our journey's end, our first pursuit was to look about -for a little lodging for Peggotty, where her brother could have a -bed. We were so fortunate as to find one, of a very clean and cheap -description, over a chandler's shop, only two streets removed from -me. When we had engaged this domicile, I bought some cold meat at an -eating-house, and took my fellow-travellers home to tea; a proceeding, -I regret to state, which did not meet with Mrs. Crupp's approval, but -quite the contrary. I ought to observe, however, in explanation of that -lady's state of mind, that she was much offended by Peggotty's tucking -up her widow's gown before she had been ten minutes in the place, and -setting to work to dust my bedroom. This Mrs. Crupp regarded in the -light of a liberty, and a liberty, she said, was a thing she never -allowed. - -Mr. Peggotty had made a communication to me on the way to London for -which I was not unprepared. It was, that he purposed first seeing Mrs. -Steerforth. As I felt bound to assist him in this, and also to mediate -between them; with the view of sparing the mother's feelings as much -as possible, I wrote to her that night. I told her as mildly as I could -what his wrong was, and what my own share in his injury. I said he was a -man in very common life, but of a most gentle and upright character; and -that I ventured to express a hope that she would not refuse to see him -in his heavy trouble. I mentioned two o'clock in the afternoon as the -hour of our coming, and I sent the letter myself by the first coach in -the morning. - -At the appointed time, we stood at the door--the door of that house -where I had been, a few days since, so happy: where my youthful -confidence and warmth of heart had been yielded up so freely: which was -closed against me henceforth: which was now a waste, a ruin. - -No Littimer appeared. The pleasanter face which had replaced his, on the -occasion of my last visit, answered to our summons, and went before -us to the drawing-room. Mrs. Steerforth was sitting there. Rosa Dartle -glided, as we went in, from another part of the room and stood behind -her chair. - -I saw, directly, in his mother's face, that she knew from himself what -he had done. It was very pale; and bore the traces of deeper emotion -than my letter alone, weakened by the doubts her fondness would have -raised upon it, would have been likely to create. I thought her more -like him than ever I had thought her; and I felt, rather than saw, that -the resemblance was not lost on my companion. - -She sat upright in her arm-chair, with a stately, immovable, passionless -air, that it seemed as if nothing could disturb. She looked very -steadfastly at Mr. Peggotty when he stood before her; and he looked -quite as steadfastly at her. Rosa Dartle's keen glance comprehended all -of us. For some moments not a word was spoken. - -She motioned to Mr. Peggotty to be seated. He said, in a low voice, 'I -shouldn't feel it nat'ral, ma'am, to sit down in this house. I'd sooner -stand.' And this was succeeded by another silence, which she broke thus: - -'I know, with deep regret, what has brought you here. What do you want -of me? What do you ask me to do?' - -He put his hat under his arm, and feeling in his breast for Emily's -letter, took it out, unfolded it, and gave it to her. 'Please to read -that, ma'am. That's my niece's hand!' - -She read it, in the same stately and impassive way,--untouched by its -contents, as far as I could see,--and returned it to him. - -'"Unless he brings me back a lady,"' said Mr. Peggotty, tracing out that -part with his finger. 'I come to know, ma'am, whether he will keep his -wured?' - -'No,' she returned. - -'Why not?' said Mr. Peggotty. - -'It is impossible. He would disgrace himself. You cannot fail to know -that she is far below him.' - -'Raise her up!' said Mr. Peggotty. - -'She is uneducated and ignorant.' - -'Maybe she's not; maybe she is,' said Mr. Peggotty. 'I think not, ma'am; -but I'm no judge of them things. Teach her better!' - -'Since you oblige me to speak more plainly, which I am very unwilling -to do, her humble connexions would render such a thing impossible, if -nothing else did.' - -'Hark to this, ma'am,' he returned, slowly and quietly. 'You know what -it is to love your child. So do I. If she was a hundred times my child, -I couldn't love her more. You doen't know what it is to lose your child. -I do. All the heaps of riches in the wureld would be nowt to me (if they -was mine) to buy her back! But, save her from this disgrace, and she -shall never be disgraced by us. Not one of us that she's growed up -among, not one of us that's lived along with her and had her for their -all in all, these many year, will ever look upon her pritty face again. -We'll be content to let her be; we'll be content to think of her, far -off, as if she was underneath another sun and sky; we'll be content to -trust her to her husband,--to her little children, p'raps,--and bide the -time when all of us shall be alike in quality afore our God!' - -The rugged eloquence with which he spoke, was not devoid of all effect. -She still preserved her proud manner, but there was a touch of softness -in her voice, as she answered: - -'I justify nothing. I make no counter-accusations. But I am sorry to -repeat, it is impossible. Such a marriage would irretrievably blight my -son's career, and ruin his prospects. Nothing is more certain than -that it never can take place, and never will. If there is any other -compensation--' - -'I am looking at the likeness of the face,' interrupted Mr. Peggotty, -with a steady but a kindling eye, 'that has looked at me, in my home, at -my fireside, in my boat--wheer not?---smiling and friendly, when it was -so treacherous, that I go half wild when I think of it. If the likeness -of that face don't turn to burning fire, at the thought of offering -money to me for my child's blight and ruin, it's as bad. I doen't know, -being a lady's, but what it's worse.' - -She changed now, in a moment. An angry flush overspread her features; -and she said, in an intolerant manner, grasping the arm-chair tightly -with her hands: - -'What compensation can you make to ME for opening such a pit between me -and my son? What is your love to mine? What is your separation to ours?' - -Miss Dartle softly touched her, and bent down her head to whisper, but -she would not hear a word. - -'No, Rosa, not a word! Let the man listen to what I say! My son, who has -been the object of my life, to whom its every thought has been devoted, -whom I have gratified from a child in every wish, from whom I have had -no separate existence since his birth,--to take up in a moment with a -miserable girl, and avoid me! To repay my confidence with systematic -deception, for her sake, and quit me for her! To set this wretched -fancy, against his mother's claims upon his duty, love, respect, -gratitude--claims that every day and hour of his life should have -strengthened into ties that nothing could be proof against! Is this no -injury?' - -Again Rosa Dartle tried to soothe her; again ineffectually. - -'I say, Rosa, not a word! If he can stake his all upon the lightest -object, I can stake my all upon a greater purpose. Let him go where he -will, with the means that my love has secured to him! Does he think to -reduce me by long absence? He knows his mother very little if he does. -Let him put away his whim now, and he is welcome back. Let him not put -her away now, and he never shall come near me, living or dying, while -I can raise my hand to make a sign against it, unless, being rid of her -for ever, he comes humbly to me and begs for my forgiveness. This is my -right. This is the acknowledgement I WILL HAVE. This is the separation -that there is between us! And is this,' she added, looking at her -visitor with the proud intolerant air with which she had begun, 'no -injury?' - -While I heard and saw the mother as she said these words, I seemed to -hear and see the son, defying them. All that I had ever seen in him of -an unyielding, wilful spirit, I saw in her. All the understanding that -I had now of his misdirected energy, became an understanding of her -character too, and a perception that it was, in its strongest springs, -the same. - -She now observed to me, aloud, resuming her former restraint, that it -was useless to hear more, or to say more, and that she begged to put an -end to the interview. She rose with an air of dignity to leave the room, -when Mr. Peggotty signified that it was needless. - -'Doen't fear me being any hindrance to you, I have no more to say, -ma'am,' he remarked, as he moved towards the door. 'I come heer with no -hope, and I take away no hope. I have done what I thowt should be done, -but I never looked fur any good to come of my stan'ning where I do. -This has been too evil a house fur me and mine, fur me to be in my right -senses and expect it.' - -With this, we departed; leaving her standing by her elbow-chair, a -picture of a noble presence and a handsome face. - -We had, on our way out, to cross a paved hall, with glass sides and -roof, over which a vine was trained. Its leaves and shoots were green -then, and the day being sunny, a pair of glass doors leading to the -garden were thrown open. Rosa Dartle, entering this way with a noiseless -step, when we were close to them, addressed herself to me: - -'You do well,' she said, 'indeed, to bring this fellow here!' - -Such a concentration of rage and scorn as darkened her face, and flashed -in her jet-black eyes, I could not have thought compressible even into -that face. The scar made by the hammer was, as usual in this excited -state of her features, strongly marked. When the throbbing I had seen -before, came into it as I looked at her, she absolutely lifted up her -hand, and struck it. - -'This is a fellow,' she said, 'to champion and bring here, is he not? -You are a true man!' - -'Miss Dartle,' I returned, 'you are surely not so unjust as to condemn -ME!' - -'Why do you bring division between these two mad creatures?' she -returned. 'Don't you know that they are both mad with their own -self-will and pride?' - -'Is it my doing?' I returned. - -'Is it your doing!' she retorted. 'Why do you bring this man here?' - -'He is a deeply-injured man, Miss Dartle,' I replied. 'You may not know -it.' - -'I know that James Steerforth,' she said, with her hand on her bosom, as -if to prevent the storm that was raging there, from being loud, 'has -a false, corrupt heart, and is a traitor. But what need I know or care -about this fellow, and his common niece?' - -'Miss Dartle,' I returned, 'you deepen the injury. It is sufficient -already. I will only say, at parting, that you do him a great wrong.' - -'I do him no wrong,' she returned. 'They are a depraved, worthless set. -I would have her whipped!' - -Mr. Peggotty passed on, without a word, and went out at the door. - -'Oh, shame, Miss Dartle! shame!' I said indignantly. 'How can you bear -to trample on his undeserved affliction!' - -'I would trample on them all,' she answered. 'I would have his house -pulled down. I would have her branded on the face, dressed in rags, -and cast out in the streets to starve. If I had the power to sit in -judgement on her, I would see it done. See it done? I would do it! I -detest her. If I ever could reproach her with her infamous condition, I -would go anywhere to do so. If I could hunt her to her grave, I would. -If there was any word of comfort that would be a solace to her in her -dying hour, and only I possessed it, I wouldn't part with it for Life -itself.' - -The mere vehemence of her words can convey, I am sensible, but a weak -impression of the passion by which she was possessed, and which made -itself articulate in her whole figure, though her voice, instead of -being raised, was lower than usual. No description I could give of her -would do justice to my recollection of her, or to her entire deliverance -of herself to her anger. I have seen passion in many forms, but I have -never seen it in such a form as that. - -When I joined Mr. Peggotty, he was walking slowly and thoughtfully down -the hill. He told me, as soon as I came up with him, that having now -discharged his mind of what he had purposed doing in London, he meant -'to set out on his travels', that night. I asked him where he meant to -go? He only answered, 'I'm a going, sir, to seek my niece.' - -We went back to the little lodging over the chandler's shop, and there -I found an opportunity of repeating to Peggotty what he had said to -me. She informed me, in return, that he had said the same to her that -morning. She knew no more than I did, where he was going, but she -thought he had some project shaped out in his mind. - -I did not like to leave him, under such circumstances, and we all three -dined together off a beefsteak pie--which was one of the many good -things for which Peggotty was famous--and which was curiously flavoured -on this occasion, I recollect well, by a miscellaneous taste of tea, -coffee, butter, bacon, cheese, new loaves, firewood, candles, and walnut -ketchup, continually ascending from the shop. After dinner we sat for an -hour or so near the window, without talking much; and then Mr. Peggotty -got up, and brought his oilskin bag and his stout stick, and laid them -on the table. - -He accepted, from his sister's stock of ready money, a small sum on -account of his legacy; barely enough, I should have thought, to keep him -for a month. He promised to communicate with me, when anything befell -him; and he slung his bag about him, took his hat and stick, and bade us -both 'Good-bye!' - -'All good attend you, dear old woman,' he said, embracing Peggotty, 'and -you too, Mas'r Davy!' shaking hands with me. 'I'm a-going to seek her, -fur and wide. If she should come home while I'm away--but ah, that ain't -like to be!--or if I should bring her back, my meaning is, that she -and me shall live and die where no one can't reproach her. If any hurt -should come to me, remember that the last words I left for her was, "My -unchanged love is with my darling child, and I forgive her!"' - -He said this solemnly, bare-headed; then, putting on his hat, he went -down the stairs, and away. We followed to the door. It was a warm, dusty -evening, just the time when, in the great main thoroughfare out of which -that by-way turned, there was a temporary lull in the eternal tread of -feet upon the pavement, and a strong red sunshine. He turned, alone, at -the corner of our shady street, into a glow of light, in which we lost -him. - -Rarely did that hour of the evening come, rarely did I wake at night, -rarely did I look up at the moon, or stars, or watch the falling rain, -or hear the wind, but I thought of his solitary figure toiling on, poor -pilgrim, and recalled the words: - -'I'm a going to seek her, fur and wide. If any hurt should come to me, -remember that the last words I left for her was, "My unchanged love is -with my darling child, and I forgive her!"' - - - -CHAPTER 33. BLISSFUL - - -All this time, I had gone on loving Dora, harder than ever. Her idea was -my refuge in disappointment and distress, and made some amends to me, -even for the loss of my friend. The more I pitied myself, or pitied -others, the more I sought for consolation in the image of Dora. The -greater the accumulation of deceit and trouble in the world, the -brighter and the purer shone the star of Dora high above the world. I -don't think I had any definite idea where Dora came from, or in what -degree she was related to a higher order of beings; but I am quite sure -I should have scouted the notion of her being simply human, like any -other young lady, with indignation and contempt. - -If I may so express it, I was steeped in Dora. I was not merely over -head and ears in love with her, but I was saturated through and through. -Enough love might have been wrung out of me, metaphorically speaking, -to drown anybody in; and yet there would have remained enough within me, -and all over me, to pervade my entire existence. - -The first thing I did, on my own account, when I came back, was to take -a night-walk to Norwood, and, like the subject of a venerable riddle of -my childhood, to go 'round and round the house, without ever -touching the house', thinking about Dora. I believe the theme of this -incomprehensible conundrum was the moon. No matter what it was, I, the -moon-struck slave of Dora, perambulated round and round the house and -garden for two hours, looking through crevices in the palings, getting -my chin by dint of violent exertion above the rusty nails on the top, -blowing kisses at the lights in the windows, and romantically calling -on the night, at intervals, to shield my Dora--I don't exactly know what -from, I suppose from fire. Perhaps from mice, to which she had a great -objection. - -My love was so much in my mind and it was so natural to me to confide in -Peggotty, when I found her again by my side of an evening with the old -set of industrial implements, busily making the tour of my wardrobe, -that I imparted to her, in a sufficiently roundabout way, my great -secret. Peggotty was strongly interested, but I could not get her into -my view of the case at all. She was audaciously prejudiced in my favour, -and quite unable to understand why I should have any misgivings, or be -low-spirited about it. 'The young lady might think herself well off,' -she observed, 'to have such a beau. And as to her Pa,' she said, 'what -did the gentleman expect, for gracious sake!' - -I observed, however, that Mr. Spenlow's proctorial gown and stiff cravat -took Peggotty down a little, and inspired her with a greater reverence -for the man who was gradually becoming more and more etherealized in my -eyes every day, and about whom a reflected radiance seemed to me to beam -when he sat erect in Court among his papers, like a little lighthouse in -a sea of stationery. And by the by, it used to be uncommonly strange -to me to consider, I remember, as I sat in Court too, how those dim old -judges and doctors wouldn't have cared for Dora, if they had known -her; how they wouldn't have gone out of their senses with rapture, if -marriage with Dora had been proposed to them; how Dora might have sung, -and played upon that glorified guitar, until she led me to the verge of -madness, yet not have tempted one of those slow-goers an inch out of his -road! - -I despised them, to a man. Frozen-out old gardeners in the flower-beds -of the heart, I took a personal offence against them all. The Bench -was nothing to me but an insensible blunderer. The Bar had no more -tenderness or poetry in it, than the bar of a public-house. - -Taking the management of Peggotty's affairs into my own hands, with -no little pride, I proved the will, and came to a settlement with the -Legacy Duty-office, and took her to the Bank, and soon got everything -into an orderly train. We varied the legal character of these -proceedings by going to see some perspiring Wax-work, in Fleet Street -(melted, I should hope, these twenty years); and by visiting Miss -Linwood's Exhibition, which I remember as a Mausoleum of needlework, -favourable to self-examination and repentance; and by inspecting the -Tower of London; and going to the top of St. Paul's. All these wonders -afforded Peggotty as much pleasure as she was able to enjoy, under -existing circumstances: except, I think, St. Paul's, which, from her -long attachment to her work-box, became a rival of the picture on the -lid, and was, in some particulars, vanquished, she considered, by that -work of art. - -Peggotty's business, which was what we used to call 'common-form -business' in the Commons (and very light and lucrative the common-form -business was), being settled, I took her down to the office one morning -to pay her bill. Mr. Spenlow had stepped out, old Tiffey said, to get a -gentleman sworn for a marriage licence; but as I knew he would be -back directly, our place lying close to the Surrogate's, and to the -Vicar-General's office too, I told Peggotty to wait. - -We were a little like undertakers, in the Commons, as regarded Probate -transactions; generally making it a rule to look more or less cut up, -when we had to deal with clients in mourning. In a similar feeling -of delicacy, we were always blithe and light-hearted with the licence -clients. Therefore I hinted to Peggotty that she would find Mr. Spenlow -much recovered from the shock of Mr. Barkis's decease; and indeed he -came in like a bridegroom. - -But neither Peggotty nor I had eyes for him, when we saw, in company -with him, Mr. Murdstone. He was very little changed. His hair looked as -thick, and was certainly as black, as ever; and his glance was as little -to be trusted as of old. - -'Ah, Copperfield?' said Mr. Spenlow. 'You know this gentleman, I -believe?' - -I made my gentleman a distant bow, and Peggotty barely recognized him. -He was, at first, somewhat disconcerted to meet us two together; but -quickly decided what to do, and came up to me. - -'I hope,' he said, 'that you are doing well?' - -'It can hardly be interesting to you,' said I. 'Yes, if you wish to -know.' - -We looked at each other, and he addressed himself to Peggotty. - -'And you,' said he. 'I am sorry to observe that you have lost your -husband.' - -'It's not the first loss I have had in my life, Mr. Murdstone,' replied -Peggotty, trembling from head to foot. 'I am glad to hope that there is -nobody to blame for this one,--nobody to answer for it.' - -'Ha!' said he; 'that's a comfortable reflection. You have done your -duty?' - -'I have not worn anybody's life away,' said Peggotty, 'I am thankful to -think! No, Mr. Murdstone, I have not worrited and frightened any sweet -creetur to an early grave!' - -He eyed her gloomily--remorsefully I thought--for an instant; and said, -turning his head towards me, but looking at my feet instead of my face: - -'We are not likely to encounter soon again;--a source of satisfaction to -us both, no doubt, for such meetings as this can never be agreeable. I -do not expect that you, who always rebelled against my just authority, -exerted for your benefit and reformation, should owe me any good-will -now. There is an antipathy between us--' - -'An old one, I believe?' said I, interrupting him. - -He smiled, and shot as evil a glance at me as could come from his dark -eyes. - -'It rankled in your baby breast,' he said. 'It embittered the life of -your poor mother. You are right. I hope you may do better, yet; I hope -you may correct yourself.' - -Here he ended the dialogue, which had been carried on in a low voice, -in a corner of the outer office, by passing into Mr. Spenlow's room, and -saying aloud, in his smoothest manner: - -'Gentlemen of Mr. Spenlow's profession are accustomed to family -differences, and know how complicated and difficult they always are!' -With that, he paid the money for his licence; and, receiving it neatly -folded from Mr. Spenlow, together with a shake of the hand, and a polite -wish for his happiness and the lady's, went out of the office. - -I might have had more difficulty in constraining myself to be silent -under his words, if I had had less difficulty in impressing upon -Peggotty (who was only angry on my account, good creature!) that we were -not in a place for recrimination, and that I besought her to hold her -peace. She was so unusually roused, that I was glad to compound for -an affectionate hug, elicited by this revival in her mind of our old -injuries, and to make the best I could of it, before Mr. Spenlow and the -clerks. - -Mr. Spenlow did not appear to know what the connexion between Mr. -Murdstone and myself was; which I was glad of, for I could not bear to -acknowledge him, even in my own breast, remembering what I did of the -history of my poor mother. Mr. Spenlow seemed to think, if he thought -anything about the matter, that my aunt was the leader of the state -party in our family, and that there was a rebel party commanded by -somebody else--so I gathered at least from what he said, while we were -waiting for Mr. Tiffey to make out Peggotty's bill of costs. - -'Miss Trotwood,' he remarked, 'is very firm, no doubt, and not likely -to give way to opposition. I have an admiration for her character, and -I may congratulate you, Copperfield, on being on the right side. -Differences between relations are much to be deplored--but they are -extremely general--and the great thing is, to be on the right side': -meaning, I take it, on the side of the moneyed interest. - -'Rather a good marriage this, I believe?' said Mr. Spenlow. - -I explained that I knew nothing about it. - -'Indeed!' he said. 'Speaking from the few words Mr. Murdstone -dropped--as a man frequently does on these occasions--and from what Miss -Murdstone let fall, I should say it was rather a good marriage.' - -'Do you mean that there is money, sir?' I asked. - -'Yes,' said Mr. Spenlow, 'I understand there's money. Beauty too, I am -told.' - -'Indeed! Is his new wife young?' - -'Just of age,' said Mr. Spenlow. 'So lately, that I should think they -had been waiting for that.' - -'Lord deliver her!' said Peggotty. So very emphatically and -unexpectedly, that we were all three discomposed; until Tiffey came in -with the bill. - -Old Tiffey soon appeared, however, and handed it to Mr. Spenlow, to -look over. Mr. Spenlow, settling his chin in his cravat and rubbing it -softly, went over the items with a deprecatory air--as if it were all -Jorkins's doing--and handed it back to Tiffey with a bland sigh. - -'Yes,' he said. 'That's right. Quite right. I should have been extremely -happy, Copperfield, to have limited these charges to the actual -expenditure out of pocket, but it is an irksome incident in my -professional life, that I am not at liberty to consult my own wishes. I -have a partner--Mr. Jorkins.' - -As he said this with a gentle melancholy, which was the next thing to -making no charge at all, I expressed my acknowledgements on Peggotty's -behalf, and paid Tiffey in banknotes. Peggotty then retired to -her lodging, and Mr. Spenlow and I went into Court, where we had a -divorce-suit coming on, under an ingenious little statute (repealed -now, I believe, but in virtue of which I have seen several marriages -annulled), of which the merits were these. The husband, whose name was -Thomas Benjamin, had taken out his marriage licence as Thomas only; -suppressing the Benjamin, in case he should not find himself as -comfortable as he expected. NOT finding himself as comfortable as he -expected, or being a little fatigued with his wife, poor fellow, he -now came forward, by a friend, after being married a year or two, and -declared that his name was Thomas Benjamin, and therefore he was not -married at all. Which the Court confirmed, to his great satisfaction. - -I must say that I had my doubts about the strict justice of this, -and was not even frightened out of them by the bushel of wheat which -reconciles all anomalies. But Mr. Spenlow argued the matter with me. He -said, Look at the world, there was good and evil in that; look at the -ecclesiastical law, there was good and evil in THAT. It was all part of -a system. Very good. There you were! - -I had not the hardihood to suggest to Dora's father that possibly -we might even improve the world a little, if we got up early in the -morning, and took off our coats to the work; but I confessed that I -thought we might improve the Commons. Mr. Spenlow replied that he would -particularly advise me to dismiss that idea from my mind, as not being -worthy of my gentlemanly character; but that he would be glad to hear -from me of what improvement I thought the Commons susceptible? - -Taking that part of the Commons which happened to be nearest to us--for -our man was unmarried by this time, and we were out of Court, and -strolling past the Prerogative Office--I submitted that I thought the -Prerogative Office rather a queerly managed institution. Mr. Spenlow -inquired in what respect? I replied, with all due deference to his -experience (but with more deference, I am afraid, to his being Dora's -father), that perhaps it was a little nonsensical that the Registry of -that Court, containing the original wills of all persons leaving effects -within the immense province of Canterbury, for three whole centuries, -should be an accidental building, never designed for the purpose, leased -by the registrars for their Own private emolument, unsafe, not even -ascertained to be fire-proof, choked with the important documents -it held, and positively, from the roof to the basement, a mercenary -speculation of the registrars, who took great fees from the public, and -crammed the public's wills away anyhow and anywhere, having no other -object than to get rid of them cheaply. That, perhaps, it was a little -unreasonable that these registrars in the receipt of profits amounting -to eight or nine thousand pounds a year (to say nothing of the profits -of the deputy registrars, and clerks of seats), should not be obliged to -spend a little of that money, in finding a reasonably safe place for the -important documents which all classes of people were compelled to hand -over to them, whether they would or no. That, perhaps, it was a little -unjust, that all the great offices in this great office should be -magnificent sinecures, while the unfortunate working-clerks in the cold -dark room upstairs were the worst rewarded, and the least considered -men, doing important services, in London. That perhaps it was a little -indecent that the principal registrar of all, whose duty it was to -find the public, constantly resorting to this place, all needful -accommodation, should be an enormous sinecurist in virtue of that post -(and might be, besides, a clergyman, a pluralist, the holder of a -staff in a cathedral, and what not),--while the public was put to the -inconvenience of which we had a specimen every afternoon when the office -was busy, and which we knew to be quite monstrous. That, perhaps, -in short, this Prerogative Office of the diocese of Canterbury was -altogether such a pestilent job, and such a pernicious absurdity, that -but for its being squeezed away in a corner of St. Paul's Churchyard, -which few people knew, it must have been turned completely inside out, -and upside down, long ago. - -Mr. Spenlow smiled as I became modestly warm on the subject, and then -argued this question with me as he had argued the other. He said, what -was it after all? It was a question of feeling. If the public felt -that their wills were in safe keeping, and took it for granted that the -office was not to be made better, who was the worse for it? Nobody. Who -was the better for it? All the Sinecurists. Very well. Then the good -predominated. It might not be a perfect system; nothing was perfect; -but what he objected to, was, the insertion of the wedge. Under the -Prerogative Office, the country had been glorious. Insert the wedge into -the Prerogative Office, and the country would cease to be glorious. He -considered it the principle of a gentleman to take things as he found -them; and he had no doubt the Prerogative Office would last our time. I -deferred to his opinion, though I had great doubts of it myself. I find -he was right, however; for it has not only lasted to the present moment, -but has done so in the teeth of a great parliamentary report made (not -too willingly) eighteen years ago, when all these objections of mine -were set forth in detail, and when the existing stowage for wills was -described as equal to the accumulation of only two years and a half -more. What they have done with them since; whether they have lost many, -or whether they sell any, now and then, to the butter shops; I don't -know. I am glad mine is not there, and I hope it may not go there, yet -awhile. - -I have set all this down, in my present blissful chapter, because here -it comes into its natural place. Mr. Spenlow and I falling into this -conversation, prolonged it and our saunter to and fro, until we diverged -into general topics. And so it came about, in the end, that Mr. Spenlow -told me this day week was Dora's birthday, and he would be glad if I -would come down and join a little picnic on the occasion. I went out of -my senses immediately; became a mere driveller next day, on receipt of -a little lace-edged sheet of note-paper, 'Favoured by papa. To remind'; -and passed the intervening period in a state of dotage. - -I think I committed every possible absurdity in the way of preparation -for this blessed event. I turn hot when I remember the cravat I bought. -My boots might be placed in any collection of instruments of torture. -I provided, and sent down by the Norwood coach the night before, a -delicate little hamper, amounting in itself, I thought, almost to a -declaration. There were crackers in it with the tenderest mottoes that -could be got for money. At six in the morning, I was in Covent Garden -Market, buying a bouquet for Dora. At ten I was on horseback (I hired a -gallant grey, for the occasion), with the bouquet in my hat, to keep it -fresh, trotting down to Norwood. - -I suppose that when I saw Dora in the garden and pretended not to see -her, and rode past the house pretending to be anxiously looking for -it, I committed two small fooleries which other young gentlemen in my -circumstances might have committed--because they came so very natural -to me. But oh! when I DID find the house, and DID dismount at the -garden-gate, and drag those stony-hearted boots across the lawn to Dora -sitting on a garden-seat under a lilac tree, what a spectacle she was, -upon that beautiful morning, among the butterflies, in a white chip -bonnet and a dress of celestial blue! There was a young lady with -her--comparatively stricken in years--almost twenty, I should say. Her -name was Miss Mills. And Dora called her Julia. She was the bosom friend -of Dora. Happy Miss Mills! - -Jip was there, and Jip WOULD bark at me again. When I presented my -bouquet, he gnashed his teeth with jealousy. Well he might. If he had -the least idea how I adored his mistress, well he might! - -'Oh, thank you, Mr. Copperfield! What dear flowers!' said Dora. - -I had had an intention of saying (and had been studying the best form of -words for three miles) that I thought them beautiful before I saw them -so near HER. But I couldn't manage it. She was too bewildering. To see -her lay the flowers against her little dimpled chin, was to lose all -presence of mind and power of language in a feeble ecstasy. I wonder I -didn't say, 'Kill me, if you have a heart, Miss Mills. Let me die here!' - -Then Dora held my flowers to Jip to smell. Then Jip growled, and -wouldn't smell them. Then Dora laughed, and held them a little closer -to Jip, to make him. Then Jip laid hold of a bit of geranium with his -teeth, and worried imaginary cats in it. Then Dora beat him, and pouted, -and said, 'My poor beautiful flowers!' as compassionately, I thought, as -if Jip had laid hold of me. I wished he had! - -'You'll be so glad to hear, Mr. Copperfield,' said Dora, 'that that -cross Miss Murdstone is not here. She has gone to her brother's -marriage, and will be away at least three weeks. Isn't that delightful?' - -I said I was sure it must be delightful to her, and all that was -delightful to her was delightful to me. Miss Mills, with an air of -superior wisdom and benevolence, smiled upon us. - -'She is the most disagreeable thing I ever saw,' said Dora. 'You can't -believe how ill-tempered and shocking she is, Julia.' - -'Yes, I can, my dear!' said Julia. - -'YOU can, perhaps, love,' returned Dora, with her hand on Julia's. -'Forgive my not excepting you, my dear, at first.' - -I learnt, from this, that Miss Mills had had her trials in the course -of a chequered existence; and that to these, perhaps, I might refer that -wise benignity of manner which I had already noticed. I found, in -the course of the day, that this was the case: Miss Mills having been -unhappy in a misplaced affection, and being understood to have retired -from the world on her awful stock of experience, but still to take a -calm interest in the unblighted hopes and loves of youth. - -But now Mr. Spenlow came out of the house, and Dora went to him, -saying, 'Look, papa, what beautiful flowers!' And Miss Mills smiled -thoughtfully, as who should say, 'Ye Mayflies, enjoy your brief -existence in the bright morning of life!' And we all walked from the -lawn towards the carriage, which was getting ready. - -I shall never have such a ride again. I have never had such another. -There were only those three, their hamper, my hamper, and the -guitar-case, in the phaeton; and, of course, the phaeton was open; and -I rode behind it, and Dora sat with her back to the horses, looking -towards me. She kept the bouquet close to her on the cushion, and -wouldn't allow Jip to sit on that side of her at all, for fear he should -crush it. She often carried it in her hand, often refreshed herself -with its fragrance. Our eyes at those times often met; and my great -astonishment is that I didn't go over the head of my gallant grey into -the carriage. - -There was dust, I believe. There was a good deal of dust, I believe. I -have a faint impression that Mr. Spenlow remonstrated with me for riding -in it; but I knew of none. I was sensible of a mist of love and beauty -about Dora, but of nothing else. He stood up sometimes, and asked me -what I thought of the prospect. I said it was delightful, and I dare -say it was; but it was all Dora to me. The sun shone Dora, and the birds -sang Dora. The south wind blew Dora, and the wild flowers in the hedges -were all Doras, to a bud. My comfort is, Miss Mills understood me. Miss -Mills alone could enter into my feelings thoroughly. - -I don't know how long we were going, and to this hour I know as little -where we went. Perhaps it was near Guildford. Perhaps some Arabian-night -magician, opened up the place for the day, and shut it up for ever when -we came away. It was a green spot, on a hill, carpeted with soft turf. -There were shady trees, and heather, and, as far as the eye could see, a -rich landscape. - -It was a trying thing to find people here, waiting for us; and my -jealousy, even of the ladies, knew no bounds. But all of my own -sex--especially one impostor, three or four years my elder, with a red -whisker, on which he established an amount of presumption not to be -endured--were my mortal foes. - -We all unpacked our baskets, and employed ourselves in getting dinner -ready. Red Whisker pretended he could make a salad (which I don't -believe), and obtruded himself on public notice. Some of the young -ladies washed the lettuces for him, and sliced them under his -directions. Dora was among these. I felt that fate had pitted me against -this man, and one of us must fall. - -Red Whisker made his salad (I wondered how they could eat it. Nothing -should have induced ME to touch it!) and voted himself into the charge -of the wine-cellar, which he constructed, being an ingenious beast, in -the hollow trunk of a tree. By and by, I saw him, with the majority of a -lobster on his plate, eating his dinner at the feet of Dora! - -I have but an indistinct idea of what happened for some time after this -baleful object presented itself to my view. I was very merry, I know; -but it was hollow merriment. I attached myself to a young creature in -pink, with little eyes, and flirted with her desperately. She received -my attentions with favour; but whether on my account solely, or because -she had any designs on Red Whisker, I can't say. Dora's health was -drunk. When I drank it, I affected to interrupt my conversation for that -purpose, and to resume it immediately afterwards. I caught Dora's eye as -I bowed to her, and I thought it looked appealing. But it looked at me -over the head of Red Whisker, and I was adamant. - -The young creature in pink had a mother in green; and I rather think the -latter separated us from motives of policy. Howbeit, there was a general -breaking up of the party, while the remnants of the dinner were being -put away; and I strolled off by myself among the trees, in a raging and -remorseful state. I was debating whether I should pretend that I was not -well, and fly--I don't know where--upon my gallant grey, when Dora and -Miss Mills met me. - -'Mr. Copperfield,' said Miss Mills, 'you are dull.' - -I begged her pardon. Not at all. - -'And Dora,' said Miss Mills, 'YOU are dull.' - -Oh dear no! Not in the least. - -'Mr. Copperfield and Dora,' said Miss Mills, with an almost venerable -air. 'Enough of this. Do not allow a trivial misunderstanding to wither -the blossoms of spring, which, once put forth and blighted, cannot be -renewed. I speak,' said Miss Mills, 'from experience of the past--the -remote, irrevocable past. The gushing fountains which sparkle in the -sun, must not be stopped in mere caprice; the oasis in the desert of -Sahara must not be plucked up idly.' - -I hardly knew what I did, I was burning all over to that extraordinary -extent; but I took Dora's little hand and kissed it--and she let me! -I kissed Miss Mills's hand; and we all seemed, to my thinking, to go -straight up to the seventh heaven. We did not come down again. We stayed -up there all the evening. At first we strayed to and fro among the -trees: I with Dora's shy arm drawn through mine: and Heaven knows, -folly as it all was, it would have been a happy fate to have been struck -immortal with those foolish feelings, and have stayed among the trees -for ever! - -But, much too soon, we heard the others laughing and talking, and -calling 'where's Dora?' So we went back, and they wanted Dora to sing. -Red Whisker would have got the guitar-case out of the carriage, but Dora -told him nobody knew where it was, but I. So Red Whisker was done for -in a moment; and I got it, and I unlocked it, and I took the guitar out, -and I sat by her, and I held her handkerchief and gloves, and I drank in -every note of her dear voice, and she sang to ME who loved her, and all -the others might applaud as much as they liked, but they had nothing to -do with it! - -I was intoxicated with joy. I was afraid it was too happy to be real, -and that I should wake in Buckingham Street presently, and hear Mrs. -Crupp clinking the teacups in getting breakfast ready. But Dora sang, -and others sang, and Miss Mills sang--about the slumbering echoes in the -caverns of Memory; as if she were a hundred years old--and the evening -came on; and we had tea, with the kettle boiling gipsy-fashion; and I -was still as happy as ever. - -I was happier than ever when the party broke up, and the other people, -defeated Red Whisker and all, went their several ways, and we went ours -through the still evening and the dying light, with sweet scents -rising up around us. Mr. Spenlow being a little drowsy after the -champagne--honour to the soil that grew the grape, to the grape that -made the wine, to the sun that ripened it, and to the merchant who -adulterated it!--and being fast asleep in a corner of the carriage, I -rode by the side and talked to Dora. She admired my horse and patted -him--oh, what a dear little hand it looked upon a horse!--and her shawl -would not keep right, and now and then I drew it round her with my arm; -and I even fancied that Jip began to see how it was, and to understand -that he must make up his mind to be friends with me. - -That sagacious Miss Mills, too; that amiable, though quite used up, -recluse; that little patriarch of something less than twenty, who had -done with the world, and mustn't on any account have the slumbering -echoes in the caverns of Memory awakened; what a kind thing she did! - -'Mr. Copperfield,' said Miss Mills, 'come to this side of the carriage a -moment--if you can spare a moment. I want to speak to you.' - -Behold me, on my gallant grey, bending at the side of Miss Mills, with -my hand upon the carriage door! - -'Dora is coming to stay with me. She is coming home with me the day -after tomorrow. If you would like to call, I am sure papa would be -happy to see you.' What could I do but invoke a silent blessing on Miss -Mills's head, and store Miss Mills's address in the securest corner of -my memory! What could I do but tell Miss Mills, with grateful looks -and fervent words, how much I appreciated her good offices, and what an -inestimable value I set upon her friendship! - -Then Miss Mills benignantly dismissed me, saying, 'Go back to Dora!' and -I went; and Dora leaned out of the carriage to talk to me, and we talked -all the rest of the way; and I rode my gallant grey so close to the -wheel that I grazed his near fore leg against it, and 'took the bark -off', as his owner told me, 'to the tune of three pun' sivin'--which I -paid, and thought extremely cheap for so much joy. What time Miss Mills -sat looking at the moon, murmuring verses--and recalling, I suppose, the -ancient days when she and earth had anything in common. - -Norwood was many miles too near, and we reached it many hours too soon; -but Mr. Spenlow came to himself a little short of it, and said, -'You must come in, Copperfield, and rest!' and I consenting, we had -sandwiches and wine-and-water. In the light room, Dora blushing looked -so lovely, that I could not tear myself away, but sat there staring, in -a dream, until the snoring of Mr. Spenlow inspired me with sufficient -consciousness to take my leave. So we parted; I riding all the way -to London with the farewell touch of Dora's hand still light on mine, -recalling every incident and word ten thousand times; lying down in my -own bed at last, as enraptured a young noodle as ever was carried out of -his five wits by love. - -When I awoke next morning, I was resolute to declare my passion to Dora, -and know my fate. Happiness or misery was now the question. There was no -other question that I knew of in the world, and only Dora could give the -answer to it. I passed three days in a luxury of wretchedness, torturing -myself by putting every conceivable variety of discouraging construction -on all that ever had taken place between Dora and me. At last, arrayed -for the purpose at a vast expense, I went to Miss Mills's, fraught with -a declaration. - -How many times I went up and down the street, and round the -square--painfully aware of being a much better answer to the old riddle -than the original one--before I could persuade myself to go up the steps -and knock, is no matter now. Even when, at last, I had knocked, and was -waiting at the door, I had some flurried thought of asking if that -were Mr. Blackboy's (in imitation of poor Barkis), begging pardon, and -retreating. But I kept my ground. - -Mr. Mills was not at home. I did not expect he would be. Nobody wanted -HIM. Miss Mills was at home. Miss Mills would do. - -I was shown into a room upstairs, where Miss Mills and Dora were. Jip -was there. Miss Mills was copying music (I recollect, it was a new song, -called 'Affection's Dirge'), and Dora was painting flowers. What were my -feelings, when I recognized my own flowers; the identical Covent Garden -Market purchase! I cannot say that they were very like, or that -they particularly resembled any flowers that have ever come under my -observation; but I knew from the paper round them which was accurately -copied, what the composition was. - -Miss Mills was very glad to see me, and very sorry her papa was not at -home: though I thought we all bore that with fortitude. Miss Mills was -conversational for a few minutes, and then, laying down her pen upon -'Affection's Dirge', got up, and left the room. - -I began to think I would put it off till tomorrow. - -'I hope your poor horse was not tired, when he got home at night,' said -Dora, lifting up her beautiful eyes. 'It was a long way for him.' - -I began to think I would do it today. - -'It was a long way for him,' said I, 'for he had nothing to uphold him -on the journey.' - -'Wasn't he fed, poor thing?' asked Dora. - -I began to think I would put it off till tomorrow. - -'Ye-yes,' I said, 'he was well taken care of. I mean he had not the -unutterable happiness that I had in being so near you.' - -Dora bent her head over her drawing and said, after a little while--I -had sat, in the interval, in a burning fever, and with my legs in a very -rigid state-- - -'You didn't seem to be sensible of that happiness yourself, at one time -of the day.' - -I saw now that I was in for it, and it must be done on the spot. - -'You didn't care for that happiness in the least,' said Dora, slightly -raising her eyebrows, and shaking her head, 'when you were sitting by -Miss Kitt.' - -Kitt, I should observe, was the name of the creature in pink, with the -little eyes. - -'Though certainly I don't know why you should,' said Dora, 'or why you -should call it a happiness at all. But of course you don't mean what you -say. And I am sure no one doubts your being at liberty to do whatever -you like. Jip, you naughty boy, come here!' - -I don't know how I did it. I did it in a moment. I intercepted Jip. -I had Dora in my arms. I was full of eloquence. I never stopped for a -word. I told her how I loved her. I told her I should die without her. -I told her that I idolized and worshipped her. Jip barked madly all the -time. - -When Dora hung her head and cried, and trembled, my eloquence increased -so much the more. If she would like me to die for her, she had but to -say the word, and I was ready. Life without Dora's love was not a thing -to have on any terms. I couldn't bear it, and I wouldn't. I had loved -her every minute, day and night, since I first saw her. I loved her at -that minute to distraction. I should always love her, every minute, to -distraction. Lovers had loved before, and lovers would love again; but -no lover had loved, might, could, would, or should ever love, as I loved -Dora. The more I raved, the more Jip barked. Each of us, in his own way, -got more mad every moment. - -Well, well! Dora and I were sitting on the sofa by and by, quiet enough, -and Jip was lying in her lap, winking peacefully at me. It was off my -mind. I was in a state of perfect rapture. Dora and I were engaged. - -I suppose we had some notion that this was to end in marriage. We must -have had some, because Dora stipulated that we were never to be married -without her papa's consent. But, in our youthful ecstasy, I don't think -that we really looked before us or behind us; or had any aspiration -beyond the ignorant present. We were to keep our secret from Mr. -Spenlow; but I am sure the idea never entered my head, then, that there -was anything dishonourable in that. - -Miss Mills was more than usually pensive when Dora, going to find her, -brought her back;--I apprehend, because there was a tendency in what had -passed to awaken the slumbering echoes in the caverns of Memory. But she -gave us her blessing, and the assurance of her lasting friendship, and -spoke to us, generally, as became a Voice from the Cloister. - -What an idle time it was! What an insubstantial, happy, foolish time it -was! - -When I measured Dora's finger for a ring that was to be made of -Forget-me-nots, and when the jeweller, to whom I took the measure, found -me out, and laughed over his order-book, and charged me anything he -liked for the pretty little toy, with its blue stones--so associated -in my remembrance with Dora's hand, that yesterday, when I saw such -another, by chance, on the finger of my own daughter, there was a -momentary stirring in my heart, like pain! - -When I walked about, exalted with my secret, and full of my own -interest, and felt the dignity of loving Dora, and of being beloved, so -much, that if I had walked the air, I could not have been more above the -people not so situated, who were creeping on the earth! - -When we had those meetings in the garden of the square, and sat within -the dingy summer-house, so happy, that I love the London sparrows to -this hour, for nothing else, and see the plumage of the tropics in their -smoky feathers! When we had our first great quarrel (within a week -of our betrothal), and when Dora sent me back the ring, enclosed in a -despairing cocked-hat note, wherein she used the terrible expression -that 'our love had begun in folly, and ended in madness!' which dreadful -words occasioned me to tear my hair, and cry that all was over! - -When, under cover of the night, I flew to Miss Mills, whom I saw by -stealth in a back kitchen where there was a mangle, and implored Miss -Mills to interpose between us and avert insanity. When Miss Mills -undertook the office and returned with Dora, exhorting us, from the -pulpit of her own bitter youth, to mutual concession, and the avoidance -of the Desert of Sahara! - -When we cried, and made it up, and were so blest again, that the back -kitchen, mangle and all, changed to Love's own temple, where we arranged -a plan of correspondence through Miss Mills, always to comprehend at -least one letter on each side every day! - -What an idle time! What an insubstantial, happy, foolish time! Of all -the times of mine that Time has in his grip, there is none that in one -retrospect I can smile at half so much, and think of half so tenderly. - - - -CHAPTER 34. MY AUNT ASTONISHES ME - - -I wrote to Agnes as soon as Dora and I were engaged. I wrote her a long -letter, in which I tried to make her comprehend how blest I was, and -what a darling Dora was. I entreated Agnes not to regard this as a -thoughtless passion which could ever yield to any other, or had the -least resemblance to the boyish fancies that we used to joke about. I -assured her that its profundity was quite unfathomable, and expressed my -belief that nothing like it had ever been known. - -Somehow, as I wrote to Agnes on a fine evening by my open window, and -the remembrance of her clear calm eyes and gentle face came stealing -over me, it shed such a peaceful influence upon the hurry and agitation -in which I had been living lately, and of which my very happiness -partook in some degree, that it soothed me into tears. I remember that -I sat resting my head upon my hand, when the letter was half done, -cherishing a general fancy as if Agnes were one of the elements of my -natural home. As if, in the retirement of the house made almost sacred -to me by her presence, Dora and I must be happier than anywhere. As if, -in love, joy, sorrow, hope, or disappointment; in all emotions; my heart -turned naturally there, and found its refuge and best friend. - -Of Steerforth I said nothing. I only told her there had been sad grief -at Yarmouth, on account of Emily's flight; and that on me it made a -double wound, by reason of the circumstances attending it. I knew how -quick she always was to divine the truth, and that she would never be -the first to breathe his name. - -To this letter, I received an answer by return of post. As I read it, I -seemed to hear Agnes speaking to me. It was like her cordial voice in my -ears. What can I say more! - -While I had been away from home lately, Traddles had called twice or -thrice. Finding Peggotty within, and being informed by Peggotty (who -always volunteered that information to whomsoever would receive -it), that she was my old nurse, he had established a good-humoured -acquaintance with her, and had stayed to have a little chat with her -about me. So Peggotty said; but I am afraid the chat was all on her -own side, and of immoderate length, as she was very difficult indeed to -stop, God bless her! when she had me for her theme. - -This reminds me, not only that I expected Traddles on a certain -afternoon of his own appointing, which was now come, but that Mrs. Crupp -had resigned everything appertaining to her office (the salary excepted) -until Peggotty should cease to present herself. Mrs. Crupp, after -holding divers conversations respecting Peggotty, in a very high-pitched -voice, on the staircase--with some invisible Familiar it would appear, -for corporeally speaking she was quite alone at those times--addressed a -letter to me, developing her views. Beginning it with that statement -of universal application, which fitted every occurrence of her life, -namely, that she was a mother herself, she went on to inform me that -she had once seen very different days, but that at all periods of her -existence she had had a constitutional objection to spies, intruders, -and informers. She named no names, she said; let them the cap fitted, -wear it; but spies, intruders, and informers, especially in widders' -weeds (this clause was underlined), she had ever accustomed herself to -look down upon. If a gentleman was the victim of spies, intruders, and -informers (but still naming no names), that was his own pleasure. He -had a right to please himself; so let him do. All that she, Mrs. Crupp, -stipulated for, was, that she should not be 'brought in contract' -with such persons. Therefore she begged to be excused from any further -attendance on the top set, until things were as they formerly was, and -as they could be wished to be; and further mentioned that her little -book would be found upon the breakfast-table every Saturday morning, -when she requested an immediate settlement of the same, with the -benevolent view of saving trouble 'and an ill-conwenience' to all -parties. - -After this, Mrs. Crupp confined herself to making pitfalls on the -stairs, principally with pitchers, and endeavouring to delude Peggotty -into breaking her legs. I found it rather harassing to live in this -state of siege, but was too much afraid of Mrs. Crupp to see any way out -of it. - -'My dear Copperfield,' cried Traddles, punctually appearing at my door, -in spite of all these obstacles, 'how do you do?' - -'My dear Traddles,' said I, 'I am delighted to see you at last, and very -sorry I have not been at home before. But I have been so much engaged--' - -'Yes, yes, I know,' said Traddles, 'of course. Yours lives in London, I -think.' - -'What did you say?' - -'She--excuse me--Miss D., you know,' said Traddles, colouring in his -great delicacy, 'lives in London, I believe?' - -'Oh yes. Near London.' - -'Mine, perhaps you recollect,' said Traddles, with a serious look, -'lives down in Devonshire--one of ten. Consequently, I am not so much -engaged as you--in that sense.' - -'I wonder you can bear,' I returned, 'to see her so seldom.' - -'Hah!' said Traddles, thoughtfully. 'It does seem a wonder. I suppose it -is, Copperfield, because there is no help for it?' - -'I suppose so,' I replied with a smile, and not without a blush. 'And -because you have so much constancy and patience, Traddles.' - -'Dear me!' said Traddles, considering about it, 'do I strike you in that -way, Copperfield? Really I didn't know that I had. But she is such -an extraordinarily dear girl herself, that it's possible she may -have imparted something of those virtues to me. Now you mention it, -Copperfield, I shouldn't wonder at all. I assure you she is always -forgetting herself, and taking care of the other nine.' - -'Is she the eldest?' I inquired. - -'Oh dear, no,' said Traddles. 'The eldest is a Beauty.' - -He saw, I suppose, that I could not help smiling at the simplicity of -this reply; and added, with a smile upon his own ingenuous face: - -'Not, of course, but that my Sophy--pretty name, Copperfield, I always -think?' - -'Very pretty!' said I. - -'Not, of course, but that Sophy is beautiful too in my eyes, and would -be one of the dearest girls that ever was, in anybody's eyes (I should -think). But when I say the eldest is a Beauty, I mean she really is -a--' he seemed to be describing clouds about himself, with both hands: -'Splendid, you know,' said Traddles, energetically. 'Indeed!' said I. - -'Oh, I assure you,' said Traddles, 'something very uncommon, indeed! -Then, you know, being formed for society and admiration, and not being -able to enjoy much of it in consequence of their limited means, she -naturally gets a little irritable and exacting, sometimes. Sophy puts -her in good humour!' - -'Is Sophy the youngest?' I hazarded. - -'Oh dear, no!' said Traddles, stroking his chin. 'The two youngest are -only nine and ten. Sophy educates 'em.' - -'The second daughter, perhaps?' I hazarded. - -'No,' said Traddles. 'Sarah's the second. Sarah has something the matter -with her spine, poor girl. The malady will wear out by and by, the -doctors say, but in the meantime she has to lie down for a twelvemonth. -Sophy nurses her. Sophy's the fourth.' - -'Is the mother living?' I inquired. - -'Oh yes,' said Traddles, 'she is alive. She is a very superior woman -indeed, but the damp country is not adapted to her constitution, and--in -fact, she has lost the use of her limbs.' - -'Dear me!' said I. - -'Very sad, is it not?' returned Traddles. 'But in a merely domestic view -it is not so bad as it might be, because Sophy takes her place. She is -quite as much a mother to her mother, as she is to the other nine.' - -I felt the greatest admiration for the virtues of this young lady; and, -honestly with the view of doing my best to prevent the good-nature -of Traddles from being imposed upon, to the detriment of their joint -prospects in life, inquired how Mr. Micawber was? - -'He is quite well, Copperfield, thank you,' said Traddles. 'I am not -living with him at present.' - -'No?' - -'No. You see the truth is,' said Traddles, in a whisper, 'he had changed -his name to Mortimer, in consequence of his temporary embarrassments; -and he don't come out till after dark--and then in spectacles. There was -an execution put into our house, for rent. Mrs. Micawber was in such -a dreadful state that I really couldn't resist giving my name to that -second bill we spoke of here. You may imagine how delightful it was to -my feelings, Copperfield, to see the matter settled with it, and Mrs. -Micawber recover her spirits.' - -'Hum!' said I. 'Not that her happiness was of long duration,' pursued -Traddles, 'for, unfortunately, within a week another execution came -in. It broke up the establishment. I have been living in a furnished -apartment since then, and the Mortimers have been very private indeed. -I hope you won't think it selfish, Copperfield, if I mention that -the broker carried off my little round table with the marble top, and -Sophy's flower-pot and stand?' - -'What a hard thing!' I exclaimed indignantly. - -'It was a--it was a pull,' said Traddles, with his usual wince at that -expression. 'I don't mention it reproachfully, however, but with a -motive. The fact is, Copperfield, I was unable to repurchase them at the -time of their seizure; in the first place, because the broker, having an -idea that I wanted them, ran the price up to an extravagant extent; and, -in the second place, because I--hadn't any money. Now, I have kept -my eye since, upon the broker's shop,' said Traddles, with a great -enjoyment of his mystery, 'which is up at the top of Tottenham Court -Road, and, at last, today I find them put out for sale. I have only -noticed them from over the way, because if the broker saw me, bless you, -he'd ask any price for them! What has occurred to me, having now the -money, is, that perhaps you wouldn't object to ask that good nurse of -yours to come with me to the shop--I can show it her from round the -corner of the next street--and make the best bargain for them, as if -they were for herself, that she can!' - -The delight with which Traddles propounded this plan to me, and the -sense he had of its uncommon artfulness, are among the freshest things -in my remembrance. - -I told him that my old nurse would be delighted to assist him, and that -we would all three take the field together, but on one condition. That -condition was, that he should make a solemn resolution to grant no more -loans of his name, or anything else, to Mr. Micawber. - -'My dear Copperfield,' said Traddles, 'I have already done so, because -I begin to feel that I have not only been inconsiderate, but that I have -been positively unjust to Sophy. My word being passed to myself, there -is no longer any apprehension; but I pledge it to you, too, with the -greatest readiness. That first unlucky obligation, I have paid. I have -no doubt Mr. Micawber would have paid it if he could, but he could not. -One thing I ought to mention, which I like very much in Mr. Micawber, -Copperfield. It refers to the second obligation, which is not yet due. -He don't tell me that it is provided for, but he says it WILL BE. Now, I -think there is something very fair and honest about that!' - -I was unwilling to damp my good friend's confidence, and therefore -assented. After a little further conversation, we went round to the -chandler's shop, to enlist Peggotty; Traddles declining to pass the -evening with me, both because he endured the liveliest apprehensions -that his property would be bought by somebody else before he could -re-purchase it, and because it was the evening he always devoted to -writing to the dearest girl in the world. - -I never shall forget him peeping round the corner of the street in -Tottenham Court Road, while Peggotty was bargaining for the precious -articles; or his agitation when she came slowly towards us after vainly -offering a price, and was hailed by the relenting broker, and went back -again. The end of the negotiation was, that she bought the property on -tolerably easy terms, and Traddles was transported with pleasure. - -'I am very much obliged to you, indeed,' said Traddles, on hearing it -was to be sent to where he lived, that night. 'If I might ask one other -favour, I hope you would not think it absurd, Copperfield?' - -I said beforehand, certainly not. - -'Then if you WOULD be good enough,' said Traddles to Peggotty, 'to -get the flower-pot now, I think I should like (it being Sophy's, -Copperfield) to carry it home myself!' - -Peggotty was glad to get it for him, and he overwhelmed her with thanks, -and went his way up Tottenham Court Road, carrying the flower-pot -affectionately in his arms, with one of the most delighted expressions -of countenance I ever saw. - -We then turned back towards my chambers. As the shops had charms for -Peggotty which I never knew them possess in the same degree for anybody -else, I sauntered easily along, amused by her staring in at the windows, -and waiting for her as often as she chose. We were thus a good while in -getting to the Adelphi. - -On our way upstairs, I called her attention to the sudden disappearance -of Mrs. Crupp's pitfalls, and also to the prints of recent footsteps. We -were both very much surprised, coming higher up, to find my outer door -standing open (which I had shut) and to hear voices inside. - -We looked at one another, without knowing what to make of this, and went -into the sitting-room. What was my amazement to find, of all people upon -earth, my aunt there, and Mr. Dick! My aunt sitting on a quantity of -luggage, with her two birds before her, and her cat on her knee, like a -female Robinson Crusoe, drinking tea. Mr. Dick leaning thoughtfully on -a great kite, such as we had often been out together to fly, with more -luggage piled about him! - -'My dear aunt!' cried I. 'Why, what an unexpected pleasure!' - -We cordially embraced; and Mr. Dick and I cordially shook hands; and -Mrs. Crupp, who was busy making tea, and could not be too attentive, -cordially said she had knowed well as Mr. Copperfull would have his -heart in his mouth, when he see his dear relations. - -'Holloa!' said my aunt to Peggotty, who quailed before her awful -presence. 'How are YOU?' - -'You remember my aunt, Peggotty?' said I. - -'For the love of goodness, child,' exclaimed my aunt, 'don't call the -woman by that South Sea Island name! If she married and got rid of -it, which was the best thing she could do, why don't you give her the -benefit of the change? What's your name now,--P?' said my aunt, as a -compromise for the obnoxious appellation. - -'Barkis, ma'am,' said Peggotty, with a curtsey. - -'Well! That's human,' said my aunt. 'It sounds less as if you wanted a -missionary. How d'ye do, Barkis? I hope you're well?' - -Encouraged by these gracious words, and by my aunt's extending her -hand, Barkis came forward, and took the hand, and curtseyed her -acknowledgements. - -'We are older than we were, I see,' said my aunt. 'We have only met each -other once before, you know. A nice business we made of it then! Trot, -my dear, another cup.' - -I handed it dutifully to my aunt, who was in her usual inflexible state -of figure; and ventured a remonstrance with her on the subject of her -sitting on a box. - -'Let me draw the sofa here, or the easy-chair, aunt,' said I. 'Why -should you be so uncomfortable?' - -'Thank you, Trot,' replied my aunt, 'I prefer to sit upon my property.' -Here my aunt looked hard at Mrs. Crupp, and observed, 'We needn't -trouble you to wait, ma'am.' - -'Shall I put a little more tea in the pot afore I go, ma'am?' said Mrs. -Crupp. - -'No, I thank you, ma'am,' replied my aunt. - -'Would you let me fetch another pat of butter, ma'am?' said Mrs. Crupp. -'Or would you be persuaded to try a new-laid hegg? or should I brile -a rasher? Ain't there nothing I could do for your dear aunt, Mr. -Copperfull?' - -'Nothing, ma'am,' returned my aunt. 'I shall do very well, I thank you.' - -Mrs. Crupp, who had been incessantly smiling to express sweet temper, -and incessantly holding her head on one side, to express a general -feebleness of constitution, and incessantly rubbing her hands, to -express a desire to be of service to all deserving objects, gradually -smiled herself, one-sided herself, and rubbed herself, out of the room. -'Dick!' said my aunt. 'You know what I told you about time-servers and -wealth-worshippers?' - -Mr. Dick--with rather a scared look, as if he had forgotten it--returned -a hasty answer in the affirmative. - -'Mrs. Crupp is one of them,' said my aunt. 'Barkis, I'll trouble you to -look after the tea, and let me have another cup, for I don't fancy that -woman's pouring-out!' - -I knew my aunt sufficiently well to know that she had something of -importance on her mind, and that there was far more matter in this -arrival than a stranger might have supposed. I noticed how her eye -lighted on me, when she thought my attention otherwise occupied; and -what a curious process of hesitation appeared to be going on within -her, while she preserved her outward stiffness and composure. I began -to reflect whether I had done anything to offend her; and my conscience -whispered me that I had not yet told her about Dora. Could it by any -means be that, I wondered! - -As I knew she would only speak in her own good time, I sat down near -her, and spoke to the birds, and played with the cat, and was as easy -as I could be. But I was very far from being really easy; and I should -still have been so, even if Mr. Dick, leaning over the great kite behind -my aunt, had not taken every secret opportunity of shaking his head -darkly at me, and pointing at her. - -'Trot,' said my aunt at last, when she had finished her tea, and -carefully smoothed down her dress, and wiped her lips--'you needn't go, -Barkis!--Trot, have you got to be firm and self-reliant?' - -'I hope so, aunt.' - -'What do you think?' inquired Miss Betsey. - -'I think so, aunt.' - -'Then why, my love,' said my aunt, looking earnestly at me, 'why do you -think I prefer to sit upon this property of mine tonight?' - -I shook my head, unable to guess. - -'Because,' said my aunt, 'it's all I have. Because I'm ruined, my dear!' - -If the house, and every one of us, had tumbled out into the river -together, I could hardly have received a greater shock. - -'Dick knows it,' said my aunt, laying her hand calmly on my shoulder. 'I -am ruined, my dear Trot! All I have in the world is in this room, except -the cottage; and that I have left Janet to let. Barkis, I want to get a -bed for this gentleman tonight. To save expense, perhaps you can make -up something here for myself. Anything will do. It's only for tonight. -We'll talk about this, more, tomorrow.' - -I was roused from my amazement, and concern for her--I am sure, for -her--by her falling on my neck, for a moment, and crying that she only -grieved for me. In another moment she suppressed this emotion; and said -with an aspect more triumphant than dejected: - -'We must meet reverses boldly, and not suffer them to frighten us, my -dear. We must learn to act the play out. We must live misfortune down, -Trot!' - - - -CHAPTER 35. DEPRESSION - - -As soon as I could recover my presence of mind, which quite deserted me -in the first overpowering shock of my aunt's intelligence, I proposed -to Mr. Dick to come round to the chandler's shop, and take possession of -the bed which Mr. Peggotty had lately vacated. The chandler's shop being -in Hungerford Market, and Hungerford Market being a very different place -in those days, there was a low wooden colonnade before the door (not -very unlike that before the house where the little man and woman used -to live, in the old weather-glass), which pleased Mr. Dick mightily. The -glory of lodging over this structure would have compensated him, I dare -say, for many inconveniences; but, as there were really few to bear, -beyond the compound of flavours I have already mentioned, and perhaps -the want of a little more elbow-room, he was perfectly charmed with his -accommodation. Mrs. Crupp had indignantly assured him that there wasn't -room to swing a cat there; but, as Mr. Dick justly observed to me, -sitting down on the foot of the bed, nursing his leg, 'You know, -Trotwood, I don't want to swing a cat. I never do swing a cat. -Therefore, what does that signify to ME!' - -I tried to ascertain whether Mr. Dick had any understanding of the -causes of this sudden and great change in my aunt's affairs. As I might -have expected, he had none at all. The only account he could give of it -was, that my aunt had said to him, the day before yesterday, 'Now, Dick, -are you really and truly the philosopher I take you for?' That then -he had said, Yes, he hoped so. That then my aunt had said, 'Dick, I -am ruined.' That then he had said, 'Oh, indeed!' That then my aunt had -praised him highly, which he was glad of. And that then they had come to -me, and had had bottled porter and sandwiches on the road. - -Mr. Dick was so very complacent, sitting on the foot of the bed, nursing -his leg, and telling me this, with his eyes wide open and a surprised -smile, that I am sorry to say I was provoked into explaining to him -that ruin meant distress, want, and starvation; but I was soon bitterly -reproved for this harshness, by seeing his face turn pale, and tears -course down his lengthened cheeks, while he fixed upon me a look of such -unutterable woe, that it might have softened a far harder heart than -mine. I took infinitely greater pains to cheer him up again than I had -taken to depress him; and I soon understood (as I ought to have known at -first) that he had been so confident, merely because of his faith in -the wisest and most wonderful of women, and his unbounded reliance on my -intellectual resources. The latter, I believe, he considered a match for -any kind of disaster not absolutely mortal. - -'What can we do, Trotwood?' said Mr. Dick. 'There's the Memorial-' - -'To be sure there is,' said I. 'But all we can do just now, Mr. Dick, -is to keep a cheerful countenance, and not let my aunt see that we are -thinking about it.' - -He assented to this in the most earnest manner; and implored me, if I -should see him wandering an inch out of the right course, to recall him -by some of those superior methods which were always at my command. But I -regret to state that the fright I had given him proved too much for his -best attempts at concealment. All the evening his eyes wandered to my -aunt's face, with an expression of the most dismal apprehension, as if -he saw her growing thin on the spot. He was conscious of this, and put -a constraint upon his head; but his keeping that immovable, and sitting -rolling his eyes like a piece of machinery, did not mend the matter at -all. I saw him look at the loaf at supper (which happened to be a small -one), as if nothing else stood between us and famine; and when my aunt -insisted on his making his customary repast, I detected him in the act -of pocketing fragments of his bread and cheese; I have no doubt for the -purpose of reviving us with those savings, when we should have reached -an advanced stage of attenuation. - -My aunt, on the other hand, was in a composed frame of mind, which was -a lesson to all of us--to me, I am sure. She was extremely gracious -to Peggotty, except when I inadvertently called her by that name; and, -strange as I knew she felt in London, appeared quite at home. She was -to have my bed, and I was to lie in the sitting-room, to keep guard over -her. She made a great point of being so near the river, in case of a -conflagration; and I suppose really did find some satisfaction in that -circumstance. - -'Trot, my dear,' said my aunt, when she saw me making preparations for -compounding her usual night-draught, 'No!' - -'Nothing, aunt?' - -'Not wine, my dear. Ale.' - -'But there is wine here, aunt. And you always have it made of wine.' - -'Keep that, in case of sickness,' said my aunt. 'We mustn't use it -carelessly, Trot. Ale for me. Half a pint.' - -I thought Mr. Dick would have fallen, insensible. My aunt being -resolute, I went out and got the ale myself. As it was growing late, -Peggotty and Mr. Dick took that opportunity of repairing to the -chandler's shop together. I parted from him, poor fellow, at the corner -of the street, with his great kite at his back, a very monument of human -misery. - -My aunt was walking up and down the room when I returned, crimping the -borders of her nightcap with her fingers. I warmed the ale and made the -toast on the usual infallible principles. When it was ready for her, she -was ready for it, with her nightcap on, and the skirt of her gown turned -back on her knees. - -'My dear,' said my aunt, after taking a spoonful of it; 'it's a great -deal better than wine. Not half so bilious.' - -I suppose I looked doubtful, for she added: - -'Tut, tut, child. If nothing worse than Ale happens to us, we are well -off.' - -'I should think so myself, aunt, I am sure,' said I. - -'Well, then, why DON'T you think so?' said my aunt. - -'Because you and I are very different people,' I returned. - -'Stuff and nonsense, Trot!' replied my aunt. - -My aunt went on with a quiet enjoyment, in which there was very little -affectation, if any; drinking the warm ale with a tea-spoon, and soaking -her strips of toast in it. - -'Trot,' said she, 'I don't care for strange faces in general, but I -rather like that Barkis of yours, do you know!' - -'It's better than a hundred pounds to hear you say so!' said I. - -'It's a most extraordinary world,' observed my aunt, rubbing her nose; -'how that woman ever got into it with that name, is unaccountable to me. -It would be much more easy to be born a Jackson, or something of that -sort, one would think.' - -'Perhaps she thinks so, too; it's not her fault,' said I. - -'I suppose not,' returned my aunt, rather grudging the admission; 'but -it's very aggravating. However, she's Barkis now. That's some comfort. -Barkis is uncommonly fond of you, Trot.' - -'There is nothing she would leave undone to prove it,' said I. - -'Nothing, I believe,' returned my aunt. 'Here, the poor fool has been -begging and praying about handing over some of her money--because she -has got too much of it. A simpleton!' - -My aunt's tears of pleasure were positively trickling down into the warm -ale. - -'She's the most ridiculous creature that ever was born,' said my aunt. -'I knew, from the first moment when I saw her with that poor dear -blessed baby of a mother of yours, that she was the most ridiculous of -mortals. But there are good points in Barkis!' - -Affecting to laugh, she got an opportunity of putting her hand to -her eyes. Having availed herself of it, she resumed her toast and her -discourse together. - -'Ah! Mercy upon us!' sighed my aunt. 'I know all about it, Trot! Barkis -and myself had quite a gossip while you were out with Dick. I know all -about it. I don't know where these wretched girls expect to go to, for -my part. I wonder they don't knock out their brains against--against -mantelpieces,' said my aunt; an idea which was probably suggested to her -by her contemplation of mine. - -'Poor Emily!' said I. - -'Oh, don't talk to me about poor,' returned my aunt. 'She should have -thought of that, before she caused so much misery! Give me a kiss, Trot. -I am sorry for your early experience.' - -As I bent forward, she put her tumbler on my knee to detain me, and -said: - -'Oh, Trot, Trot! And so you fancy yourself in love! Do you?' - -'Fancy, aunt!' I exclaimed, as red as I could be. 'I adore her with my -whole soul!' - -'Dora, indeed!' returned my aunt. 'And you mean to say the little thing -is very fascinating, I suppose?' - -'My dear aunt,' I replied, 'no one can form the least idea what she is!' - -'Ah! And not silly?' said my aunt. - -'Silly, aunt!' - -I seriously believe it had never once entered my head for a single -moment, to consider whether she was or not. I resented the idea, of -course; but I was in a manner struck by it, as a new one altogether. - -'Not light-headed?' said my aunt. - -'Light-headed, aunt!' I could only repeat this daring speculation -with the same kind of feeling with which I had repeated the preceding -question. - -'Well, well!' said my aunt. 'I only ask. I don't depreciate her. Poor -little couple! And so you think you were formed for one another, and are -to go through a party-supper-table kind of life, like two pretty pieces -of confectionery, do you, Trot?' - -She asked me this so kindly, and with such a gentle air, half playful -and half sorrowful, that I was quite touched. - -'We are young and inexperienced, aunt, I know,' I replied; 'and I dare -say we say and think a good deal that is rather foolish. But we love -one another truly, I am sure. If I thought Dora could ever love anybody -else, or cease to love me; or that I could ever love anybody else, or -cease to love her; I don't know what I should do--go out of my mind, I -think!' - -'Ah, Trot!' said my aunt, shaking her head, and smiling gravely; 'blind, -blind, blind!' - -'Someone that I know, Trot,' my aunt pursued, after a pause, 'though of -a very pliant disposition, has an earnestness of affection in him that -reminds me of poor Baby. Earnestness is what that Somebody must look -for, to sustain him and improve him, Trot. Deep, downright, faithful -earnestness.' - -'If you only knew the earnestness of Dora, aunt!' I cried. - -'Oh, Trot!' she said again; 'blind, blind!' and without knowing why, -I felt a vague unhappy loss or want of something overshadow me like a -cloud. - -'However,' said my aunt, 'I don't want to put two young creatures out -of conceit with themselves, or to make them unhappy; so, though it is a -girl and boy attachment, and girl and boy attachments very often--mind! -I don't say always!--come to nothing, still we'll be serious about it, -and hope for a prosperous issue one of these days. There's time enough -for it to come to anything!' - -This was not upon the whole very comforting to a rapturous lover; but -I was glad to have my aunt in my confidence, and I was mindful of -her being fatigued. So I thanked her ardently for this mark of her -affection, and for all her other kindnesses towards me; and after a -tender good night, she took her nightcap into my bedroom. - -How miserable I was, when I lay down! How I thought and thought about my -being poor, in Mr. Spenlow's eyes; about my not being what I thought I -was, when I proposed to Dora; about the chivalrous necessity of -telling Dora what my worldly condition was, and releasing her from her -engagement if she thought fit; about how I should contrive to live, -during the long term of my articles, when I was earning nothing; about -doing something to assist my aunt, and seeing no way of doing anything; -about coming down to have no money in my pocket, and to wear a shabby -coat, and to be able to carry Dora no little presents, and to ride no -gallant greys, and to show myself in no agreeable light! Sordid and -selfish as I knew it was, and as I tortured myself by knowing that it -was, to let my mind run on my own distress so much, I was so devoted -to Dora that I could not help it. I knew that it was base in me not to -think more of my aunt, and less of myself; but, so far, selfishness -was inseparable from Dora, and I could not put Dora on one side for any -mortal creature. How exceedingly miserable I was, that night! - -As to sleep, I had dreams of poverty in all sorts of shapes, but I -seemed to dream without the previous ceremony of going to sleep. Now I -was ragged, wanting to sell Dora matches, six bundles for a halfpenny; -now I was at the office in a nightgown and boots, remonstrated with by -Mr. Spenlow on appearing before the clients in that airy attire; now -I was hungrily picking up the crumbs that fell from old Tiffey's -daily biscuit, regularly eaten when St. Paul's struck one; now I was -hopelessly endeavouring to get a licence to marry Dora, having nothing -but one of Uriah Heep's gloves to offer in exchange, which the whole -Commons rejected; and still, more or less conscious of my own room, I -was always tossing about like a distressed ship in a sea of bed-clothes. - -My aunt was restless, too, for I frequently heard her walking to and -fro. Two or three times in the course of the night, attired in a long -flannel wrapper in which she looked seven feet high, she appeared, like -a disturbed ghost, in my room, and came to the side of the sofa on which -I lay. On the first occasion I started up in alarm, to learn that she -inferred from a particular light in the sky, that Westminster Abbey -was on fire; and to be consulted in reference to the probability of its -igniting Buckingham Street, in case the wind changed. Lying still, after -that, I found that she sat down near me, whispering to herself 'Poor -boy!' And then it made me twenty times more wretched, to know how -unselfishly mindful she was of me, and how selfishly mindful I was of -myself. - -It was difficult to believe that a night so long to me, could be short -to anybody else. This consideration set me thinking and thinking of an -imaginary party where people were dancing the hours away, until that -became a dream too, and I heard the music incessantly playing one tune, -and saw Dora incessantly dancing one dance, without taking the least -notice of me. The man who had been playing the harp all night, was -trying in vain to cover it with an ordinary-sized nightcap, when I -awoke; or I should rather say, when I left off trying to go to sleep, -and saw the sun shining in through the window at last. - -There was an old Roman bath in those days at the bottom of one of the -streets out of the Strand--it may be there still--in which I have had -many a cold plunge. Dressing myself as quietly as I could, and leaving -Peggotty to look after my aunt, I tumbled head foremost into it, -and then went for a walk to Hampstead. I had a hope that this brisk -treatment might freshen my wits a little; and I think it did them good, -for I soon came to the conclusion that the first step I ought to take -was, to try if my articles could be cancelled and the premium recovered. -I got some breakfast on the Heath, and walked back to Doctors' Commons, -along the watered roads and through a pleasant smell of summer flowers, -growing in gardens and carried into town on hucksters' heads, intent on -this first effort to meet our altered circumstances. - -I arrived at the office so soon, after all, that I had half an hour's -loitering about the Commons, before old Tiffey, who was always first, -appeared with his key. Then I sat down in my shady corner, looking up -at the sunlight on the opposite chimney-pots, and thinking about Dora; -until Mr. Spenlow came in, crisp and curly. - -'How are you, Copperfield?' said he. 'Fine morning!' - -'Beautiful morning, sir,' said I. 'Could I say a word to you before you -go into Court?' - -'By all means,' said he. 'Come into my room.' - -I followed him into his room, and he began putting on his gown, and -touching himself up before a little glass he had, hanging inside a -closet door. - -'I am sorry to say,' said I, 'that I have some rather disheartening -intelligence from my aunt.' - -'No!' said he. 'Dear me! Not paralysis, I hope?' - -'It has no reference to her health, sir,' I replied. 'She has met with -some large losses. In fact, she has very little left, indeed.' - -'You as-tound me, Copperfield!' cried Mr. Spenlow. - -I shook my head. 'Indeed, sir,' said I, 'her affairs are so changed, -that I wished to ask you whether it would be possible--at a sacrifice on -our part of some portion of the premium, of course,' I put in this, on -the spur of the moment, warned by the blank expression of his face--'to -cancel my articles?' - -What it cost me to make this proposal, nobody knows. It was like asking, -as a favour, to be sentenced to transportation from Dora. - -'To cancel your articles, Copperfield? Cancel?' - -I explained with tolerable firmness, that I really did not know where -my means of subsistence were to come from, unless I could earn them for -myself. I had no fear for the future, I said--and I laid great emphasis -on that, as if to imply that I should still be decidedly eligible for a -son-in-law one of these days--but, for the present, I was thrown upon -my own resources. 'I am extremely sorry to hear this, Copperfield,' said -Mr. Spenlow. 'Extremely sorry. It is not usual to cancel articles for -any such reason. It is not a professional course of proceeding. It is -not a convenient precedent at all. Far from it. At the same time--' - -'You are very good, sir,' I murmured, anticipating a concession. - -'Not at all. Don't mention it,' said Mr. Spenlow. 'At the same time, I -was going to say, if it had been my lot to have my hands unfettered--if -I had not a partner--Mr. Jorkins--' - -My hopes were dashed in a moment, but I made another effort. - -'Do you think, sir,' said I, 'if I were to mention it to Mr. Jorkins--' - -Mr. Spenlow shook his head discouragingly. 'Heaven forbid, Copperfield,' -he replied, 'that I should do any man an injustice: still less, Mr. -Jorkins. But I know my partner, Copperfield. Mr. Jorkins is not a man -to respond to a proposition of this peculiar nature. Mr. Jorkins is very -difficult to move from the beaten track. You know what he is!' - -I am sure I knew nothing about him, except that he had originally been -alone in the business, and now lived by himself in a house near Montagu -Square, which was fearfully in want of painting; that he came very -late of a day, and went away very early; that he never appeared to be -consulted about anything; and that he had a dingy little black-hole of -his own upstairs, where no business was ever done, and where there was -a yellow old cartridge-paper pad upon his desk, unsoiled by ink, and -reported to be twenty years of age. - -'Would you object to my mentioning it to him, sir?' I asked. - -'By no means,' said Mr. Spenlow. 'But I have some experience of Mr. -Jorkins, Copperfield. I wish it were otherwise, for I should be happy -to meet your views in any respect. I cannot have the objection to your -mentioning it to Mr. Jorkins, Copperfield, if you think it worth while.' - -Availing myself of this permission, which was given with a warm shake -of the hand, I sat thinking about Dora, and looking at the sunlight -stealing from the chimney-pots down the wall of the opposite house, -until Mr. Jorkins came. I then went up to Mr. Jorkins's room, and -evidently astonished Mr. Jorkins very much by making my appearance -there. - -'Come in, Mr. Copperfield,' said Mr. Jorkins. 'Come in!' - -I went in, and sat down; and stated my case to Mr. Jorkins pretty much -as I had stated it to Mr. Spenlow. Mr. Jorkins was not by any means the -awful creature one might have expected, but a large, mild, smooth-faced -man of sixty, who took so much snuff that there was a tradition in the -Commons that he lived principally on that stimulant, having little room -in his system for any other article of diet. - -'You have mentioned this to Mr. Spenlow, I suppose?' said Mr. Jorkins; -when he had heard me, very restlessly, to an end. - -I answered Yes, and told him that Mr. Spenlow had introduced his name. - -'He said I should object?' asked Mr. Jorkins. - -I was obliged to admit that Mr. Spenlow had considered it probable. - -'I am sorry to say, Mr. Copperfield, I can't advance your object,' said -Mr. Jorkins, nervously. 'The fact is--but I have an appointment at the -Bank, if you'll have the goodness to excuse me.' - -With that he rose in a great hurry, and was going out of the room, when -I made bold to say that I feared, then, there was no way of arranging -the matter? - -'No!' said Mr. Jorkins, stopping at the door to shake his head. 'Oh, no! -I object, you know,' which he said very rapidly, and went out. 'You must -be aware, Mr. Copperfield,' he added, looking restlessly in at the door -again, 'if Mr. Spenlow objects--' - -'Personally, he does not object, sir,' said I. - -'Oh! Personally!' repeated Mr. Jorkins, in an impatient manner. 'I -assure you there's an objection, Mr. Copperfield. Hopeless! What you -wish to be done, can't be done. I--I really have got an appointment -at the Bank.' With that he fairly ran away; and to the best of my -knowledge, it was three days before he showed himself in the Commons -again. - -Being very anxious to leave no stone unturned, I waited until Mr. -Spenlow came in, and then described what had passed; giving him to -understand that I was not hopeless of his being able to soften the -adamantine Jorkins, if he would undertake the task. - -'Copperfield,' returned Mr. Spenlow, with a gracious smile, 'you have -not known my partner, Mr. Jorkins, as long as I have. Nothing is -farther from my thoughts than to attribute any degree of artifice to Mr. -Jorkins. But Mr. Jorkins has a way of stating his objections which often -deceives people. No, Copperfield!' shaking his head. 'Mr. Jorkins is not -to be moved, believe me!' - -I was completely bewildered between Mr. Spenlow and Mr. Jorkins, as -to which of them really was the objecting partner; but I saw with -sufficient clearness that there was obduracy somewhere in the firm, and -that the recovery of my aunt's thousand pounds was out of the -question. In a state of despondency, which I remember with anything -but satisfaction, for I know it still had too much reference to myself -(though always in connexion with Dora), I left the office, and went -homeward. - -I was trying to familiarize my mind with the worst, and to present to -myself the arrangements we should have to make for the future in their -sternest aspect, when a hackney-chariot coming after me, and stopping at -my very feet, occasioned me to look up. A fair hand was stretched forth -to me from the window; and the face I had never seen without a feeling -of serenity and happiness, from the moment when it first turned back -on the old oak staircase with the great broad balustrade, and when I -associated its softened beauty with the stained-glass window in the -church, was smiling on me. - -'Agnes!' I joyfully exclaimed. 'Oh, my dear Agnes, of all people in the -world, what a pleasure to see you!' - -'Is it, indeed?' she said, in her cordial voice. - -'I want to talk to you so much!' said I. 'It's such a lightening of my -heart, only to look at you! If I had had a conjuror's cap, there is no -one I should have wished for but you!' - -'What?' returned Agnes. - -'Well! perhaps Dora first,' I admitted, with a blush. - -'Certainly, Dora first, I hope,' said Agnes, laughing. - -'But you next!' said I. 'Where are you going?' - -She was going to my rooms to see my aunt. The day being very fine, she -was glad to come out of the chariot, which smelt (I had my head in it -all this time) like a stable put under a cucumber-frame. I dismissed the -coachman, and she took my arm, and we walked on together. She was like -Hope embodied, to me. How different I felt in one short minute, having -Agnes at my side! - -My aunt had written her one of the odd, abrupt notes--very little longer -than a Bank note--to which her epistolary efforts were usually limited. -She had stated therein that she had fallen into adversity, and was -leaving Dover for good, but had quite made up her mind to it, and was -so well that nobody need be uncomfortable about her. Agnes had come to -London to see my aunt, between whom and herself there had been a mutual -liking these many years: indeed, it dated from the time of my taking up -my residence in Mr. Wickfield's house. She was not alone, she said. Her -papa was with her--and Uriah Heep. - -'And now they are partners,' said I. 'Confound him!' - -'Yes,' said Agnes. 'They have some business here; and I took advantage -of their coming, to come too. You must not think my visit all friendly -and disinterested, Trotwood, for--I am afraid I may be cruelly -prejudiced--I do not like to let papa go away alone, with him.' 'Does he -exercise the same influence over Mr. Wickfield still, Agnes?' - -Agnes shook her head. 'There is such a change at home,' said she, 'that -you would scarcely know the dear old house. They live with us now.' - -'They?' said I. - -'Mr. Heep and his mother. He sleeps in your old room,' said Agnes, -looking up into my face. - -'I wish I had the ordering of his dreams,' said I. 'He wouldn't sleep -there long.' - -'I keep my own little room,' said Agnes, 'where I used to learn my -lessons. How the time goes! You remember? The little panelled room that -opens from the drawing-room?' - -'Remember, Agnes? When I saw you, for the first time, coming out at the -door, with your quaint little basket of keys hanging at your side?' - -'It is just the same,' said Agnes, smiling. 'I am glad you think of it -so pleasantly. We were very happy.' - -'We were, indeed,' said I. - -'I keep that room to myself still; but I cannot always desert Mrs. Heep, -you know. And so,' said Agnes, quietly, 'I feel obliged to bear her -company, when I might prefer to be alone. But I have no other reason to -complain of her. If she tires me, sometimes, by her praises of her son, -it is only natural in a mother. He is a very good son to her.' - -I looked at Agnes when she said these words, without detecting in her -any consciousness of Uriah's design. Her mild but earnest eyes met -mine with their own beautiful frankness, and there was no change in her -gentle face. - -'The chief evil of their presence in the house,' said Agnes, 'is that I -cannot be as near papa as I could wish--Uriah Heep being so much between -us--and cannot watch over him, if that is not too bold a thing to say, -as closely as I would. But if any fraud or treachery is practising -against him, I hope that simple love and truth will be strong in the -end. I hope that real love and truth are stronger in the end than any -evil or misfortune in the world.' - -A certain bright smile, which I never saw on any other face, died away, -even while I thought how good it was, and how familiar it had once been -to me; and she asked me, with a quick change of expression (we were -drawing very near my street), if I knew how the reverse in my aunt's -circumstances had been brought about. On my replying no, she had not -told me yet, Agnes became thoughtful, and I fancied I felt her arm -tremble in mine. - -We found my aunt alone, in a state of some excitement. A difference -of opinion had arisen between herself and Mrs. Crupp, on an abstract -question (the propriety of chambers being inhabited by the gentler sex); -and my aunt, utterly indifferent to spasms on the part of Mrs. Crupp, -had cut the dispute short, by informing that lady that she smelt of -my brandy, and that she would trouble her to walk out. Both of these -expressions Mrs. Crupp considered actionable, and had expressed her -intention of bringing before a 'British Judy'--meaning, it was supposed, -the bulwark of our national liberties. - -My aunt, however, having had time to cool, while Peggotty was out -showing Mr. Dick the soldiers at the Horse Guards--and being, besides, -greatly pleased to see Agnes--rather plumed herself on the affair than -otherwise, and received us with unimpaired good humour. When Agnes laid -her bonnet on the table, and sat down beside her, I could not but think, -looking on her mild eyes and her radiant forehead, how natural it -seemed to have her there; how trustfully, although she was so young and -inexperienced, my aunt confided in her; how strong she was, indeed, in -simple love and truth. - -We began to talk about my aunt's losses, and I told them what I had -tried to do that morning. - -'Which was injudicious, Trot,' said my aunt, 'but well meant. You are -a generous boy--I suppose I must say, young man, now--and I am proud of -you, my dear. So far, so good. Now, Trot and Agnes, let us look the case -of Betsey Trotwood in the face, and see how it stands.' - -I observed Agnes turn pale, as she looked very attentively at my aunt. -My aunt, patting her cat, looked very attentively at Agnes. - -'Betsey Trotwood,' said my aunt, who had always kept her money matters -to herself. '--I don't mean your sister, Trot, my dear, but myself--had -a certain property. It don't matter how much; enough to live on. More; -for she had saved a little, and added to it. Betsey funded her property -for some time, and then, by the advice of her man of business, laid -it out on landed security. That did very well, and returned very good -interest, till Betsey was paid off. I am talking of Betsey as if she -was a man-of-war. Well! Then, Betsey had to look about her, for a new -investment. She thought she was wiser, now, than her man of business, -who was not such a good man of business by this time, as he used to -be--I am alluding to your father, Agnes--and she took it into her head -to lay it out for herself. So she took her pigs,' said my aunt, 'to a -foreign market; and a very bad market it turned out to be. First, she -lost in the mining way, and then she lost in the diving way--fishing up -treasure, or some such Tom Tiddler nonsense,' explained my aunt, rubbing -her nose; 'and then she lost in the mining way again, and, last of all, -to set the thing entirely to rights, she lost in the banking way. I -don't know what the Bank shares were worth for a little while,' said my -aunt; 'cent per cent was the lowest of it, I believe; but the Bank was -at the other end of the world, and tumbled into space, for what I know; -anyhow, it fell to pieces, and never will and never can pay sixpence; -and Betsey's sixpences were all there, and there's an end of them. Least -said, soonest mended!' - -My aunt concluded this philosophical summary, by fixing her eyes with a -kind of triumph on Agnes, whose colour was gradually returning. - -'Dear Miss Trotwood, is that all the history?' said Agnes. - -'I hope it's enough, child,' said my aunt. 'If there had been more -money to lose, it wouldn't have been all, I dare say. Betsey would have -contrived to throw that after the rest, and make another chapter, I have -little doubt. But there was no more money, and there's no more story.' - -Agnes had listened at first with suspended breath. Her colour still came -and went, but she breathed more freely. I thought I knew why. I thought -she had had some fear that her unhappy father might be in some way to -blame for what had happened. My aunt took her hand in hers, and laughed. - -'Is that all?' repeated my aunt. 'Why, yes, that's all, except, "And she -lived happy ever afterwards." Perhaps I may add that of Betsey yet, one -of these days. Now, Agnes, you have a wise head. So have you, Trot, in -some things, though I can't compliment you always'; and here my aunt -shook her own at me, with an energy peculiar to herself. 'What's to be -done? Here's the cottage, taking one time with another, will produce -say seventy pounds a year. I think we may safely put it down at -that. Well!--That's all we've got,' said my aunt; with whom it was an -idiosyncrasy, as it is with some horses, to stop very short when she -appeared to be in a fair way of going on for a long while. - -'Then,' said my aunt, after a rest, 'there's Dick. He's good for a -hundred a-year, but of course that must be expended on himself. I would -sooner send him away, though I know I am the only person who appreciates -him, than have him, and not spend his money on himself. How can Trot and -I do best, upon our means? What do you say, Agnes?' - -'I say, aunt,' I interposed, 'that I must do something!' - -'Go for a soldier, do you mean?' returned my aunt, alarmed; 'or go to -sea? I won't hear of it. You are to be a proctor. We're not going to -have any knockings on the head in THIS family, if you please, sir.' - -I was about to explain that I was not desirous of introducing that mode -of provision into the family, when Agnes inquired if my rooms were held -for any long term? - -'You come to the point, my dear,' said my aunt. 'They are not to be got -rid of, for six months at least, unless they could be underlet, and that -I don't believe. The last man died here. Five people out of six would -die--of course--of that woman in nankeen with the flannel petticoat. I -have a little ready money; and I agree with you, the best thing we can -do, is, to live the term out here, and get a bedroom hard by.' - -I thought it my duty to hint at the discomfort my aunt would sustain, -from living in a continual state of guerilla warfare with Mrs. Crupp; -but she disposed of that objection summarily by declaring that, on the -first demonstration of hostilities, she was prepared to astonish Mrs. -Crupp for the whole remainder of her natural life. - -'I have been thinking, Trotwood,' said Agnes, diffidently, 'that if you -had time--' - -'I have a good deal of time, Agnes. I am always disengaged after four -or five o'clock, and I have time early in the morning. In one way and -another,' said I, conscious of reddening a little as I thought of the -hours and hours I had devoted to fagging about town, and to and fro upon -the Norwood Road, 'I have abundance of time.' - -'I know you would not mind,' said Agnes, coming to me, and speaking in -a low voice, so full of sweet and hopeful consideration that I hear it -now, 'the duties of a secretary.' - -'Mind, my dear Agnes?' - -'Because,' continued Agnes, 'Doctor Strong has acted on his intention of -retiring, and has come to live in London; and he asked papa, I know, -if he could recommend him one. Don't you think he would rather have his -favourite old pupil near him, than anybody else?' - -'Dear Agnes!' said I. 'What should I do without you! You are always my -good angel. I told you so. I never think of you in any other light.' - -Agnes answered with her pleasant laugh, that one good Angel (meaning -Dora) was enough; and went on to remind me that the Doctor had been -used to occupy himself in his study, early in the morning, and in the -evening--and that probably my leisure would suit his requirements very -well. I was scarcely more delighted with the prospect of earning my own -bread, than with the hope of earning it under my old master; in short, -acting on the advice of Agnes, I sat down and wrote a letter to the -Doctor, stating my object, and appointing to call on him next day at -ten in the forenoon. This I addressed to Highgate--for in that place, so -memorable to me, he lived--and went and posted, myself, without losing a -minute. - -Wherever Agnes was, some agreeable token of her noiseless presence -seemed inseparable from the place. When I came back, I found my aunt's -birds hanging, just as they had hung so long in the parlour window of -the cottage; and my easy-chair imitating my aunt's much easier chair in -its position at the open window; and even the round green fan, which my -aunt had brought away with her, screwed on to the window-sill. I knew -who had done all this, by its seeming to have quietly done itself; and I -should have known in a moment who had arranged my neglected books in the -old order of my school days, even if I had supposed Agnes to be miles -away, instead of seeing her busy with them, and smiling at the disorder -into which they had fallen. - -My aunt was quite gracious on the subject of the Thames (it really did -look very well with the sun upon it, though not like the sea before the -cottage), but she could not relent towards the London smoke, which, she -said, 'peppered everything'. A complete revolution, in which Peggotty -bore a prominent part, was being effected in every corner of my rooms, -in regard of this pepper; and I was looking on, thinking how little even -Peggotty seemed to do with a good deal of bustle, and how much Agnes did -without any bustle at all, when a knock came at the door. - -'I think,' said Agnes, turning pale, 'it's papa. He promised me that he -would come.' - -I opened the door, and admitted, not only Mr. Wickfield, but Uriah Heep. -I had not seen Mr. Wickfield for some time. I was prepared for a great -change in him, after what I had heard from Agnes, but his appearance -shocked me. - -It was not that he looked many years older, though still dressed -with the old scrupulous cleanliness; or that there was an unwholesome -ruddiness upon his face; or that his eyes were full and bloodshot; or -that there was a nervous trembling in his hand, the cause of which I -knew, and had for some years seen at work. It was not that he had lost -his good looks, or his old bearing of a gentleman--for that he had -not--but the thing that struck me most, was, that with the evidences of -his native superiority still upon him, he should submit himself to that -crawling impersonation of meanness, Uriah Heep. The reversal of the -two natures, in their relative positions, Uriah's of power and Mr. -Wickfield's of dependence, was a sight more painful to me than I can -express. If I had seen an Ape taking command of a Man, I should hardly -have thought it a more degrading spectacle. - -He appeared to be only too conscious of it himself. When he came in, he -stood still; and with his head bowed, as if he felt it. This was -only for a moment; for Agnes softly said to him, 'Papa! Here is Miss -Trotwood--and Trotwood, whom you have not seen for a long while!' and -then he approached, and constrainedly gave my aunt his hand, and shook -hands more cordially with me. In the moment's pause I speak of, I saw -Uriah's countenance form itself into a most ill-favoured smile. Agnes -saw it too, I think, for she shrank from him. - -What my aunt saw, or did not see, I defy the science of physiognomy -to have made out, without her own consent. I believe there never was -anybody with such an imperturbable countenance when she chose. Her face -might have been a dead-wall on the occasion in question, for any light -it threw upon her thoughts; until she broke silence with her usual -abruptness. - -'Well, Wickfield!' said my aunt; and he looked up at her for the first -time. 'I have been telling your daughter how well I have been disposing -of my money for myself, because I couldn't trust it to you, as you were -growing rusty in business matters. We have been taking counsel together, -and getting on very well, all things considered. Agnes is worth the -whole firm, in my opinion.' - -'If I may umbly make the remark,' said Uriah Heep, with a writhe, 'I -fully agree with Miss Betsey Trotwood, and should be only too appy if -Miss Agnes was a partner.' - -'You're a partner yourself, you know,' returned my aunt, 'and that's -about enough for you, I expect. How do you find yourself, sir?' - -In acknowledgement of this question, addressed to him with extraordinary -curtness, Mr. Heep, uncomfortably clutching the blue bag he carried, -replied that he was pretty well, he thanked my aunt, and hoped she was -the same. - -'And you, Master--I should say, Mister Copperfield,' pursued Uriah. 'I -hope I see you well! I am rejoiced to see you, Mister Copperfield, even -under present circumstances.' I believed that; for he seemed to relish -them very much. 'Present circumstances is not what your friends would -wish for you, Mister Copperfield, but it isn't money makes the man: -it's--I am really unequal with my umble powers to express what it is,' -said Uriah, with a fawning jerk, 'but it isn't money!' - -Here he shook hands with me: not in the common way, but standing at -a good distance from me, and lifting my hand up and down like a pump -handle, that he was a little afraid of. - -'And how do you think we are looking, Master Copperfield,--I should -say, Mister?' fawned Uriah. 'Don't you find Mr. Wickfield blooming, sir? -Years don't tell much in our firm, Master Copperfield, except in raising -up the umble, namely, mother and self--and in developing,' he added, as -an afterthought, 'the beautiful, namely, Miss Agnes.' - -He jerked himself about, after this compliment, in such an intolerable -manner, that my aunt, who had sat looking straight at him, lost all -patience. - -'Deuce take the man!' said my aunt, sternly, 'what's he about? Don't be -galvanic, sir!' - -'I ask your pardon, Miss Trotwood,' returned Uriah; 'I'm aware you're -nervous.' - -'Go along with you, sir!' said my aunt, anything but appeased. 'Don't -presume to say so! I am nothing of the sort. If you're an eel, sir, -conduct yourself like one. If you're a man, control your limbs, sir! -Good God!' said my aunt, with great indignation, 'I am not going to be -serpentined and corkscrewed out of my senses!' - -Mr. Heep was rather abashed, as most people might have been, by this -explosion; which derived great additional force from the indignant -manner in which my aunt afterwards moved in her chair, and shook her -head as if she were making snaps or bounces at him. But he said to me -aside in a meek voice: - -'I am well aware, Master Copperfield, that Miss Trotwood, though an -excellent lady, has a quick temper (indeed I think I had the pleasure -of knowing her, when I was a numble clerk, before you did, Master -Copperfield), and it's only natural, I am sure, that it should be made -quicker by present circumstances. The wonder is, that it isn't much -worse! I only called to say that if there was anything we could do, in -present circumstances, mother or self, or Wickfield and Heep,--we should -be really glad. I may go so far?' said Uriah, with a sickly smile at his -partner. - -'Uriah Heep,' said Mr. Wickfield, in a monotonous forced way, 'is active -in the business, Trotwood. What he says, I quite concur in. You know -I had an old interest in you. Apart from that, what Uriah says I quite -concur in!' - -'Oh, what a reward it is,' said Uriah, drawing up one leg, at the risk -of bringing down upon himself another visitation from my aunt, 'to be so -trusted in! But I hope I am able to do something to relieve him from the -fatigues of business, Master Copperfield!' - -'Uriah Heep is a great relief to me,' said Mr. Wickfield, in the same -dull voice. 'It's a load off my mind, Trotwood, to have such a partner.' - -The red fox made him say all this, I knew, to exhibit him to me in the -light he had indicated on the night when he poisoned my rest. I saw the -same ill-favoured smile upon his face again, and saw how he watched me. - -'You are not going, papa?' said Agnes, anxiously. 'Will you not walk -back with Trotwood and me?' - -He would have looked to Uriah, I believe, before replying, if that -worthy had not anticipated him. - -'I am bespoke myself,' said Uriah, 'on business; otherwise I should -have been appy to have kept with my friends. But I leave my partner to -represent the firm. Miss Agnes, ever yours! I wish you good-day, Master -Copperfield, and leave my umble respects for Miss Betsey Trotwood.' - -With those words, he retired, kissing his great hand, and leering at us -like a mask. - -We sat there, talking about our pleasant old Canterbury days, an hour -or two. Mr. Wickfield, left to Agnes, soon became more like his former -self; though there was a settled depression upon him, which he never -shook off. For all that, he brightened; and had an evident pleasure in -hearing us recall the little incidents of our old life, many of which he -remembered very well. He said it was like those times, to be alone with -Agnes and me again; and he wished to Heaven they had never changed. I am -sure there was an influence in the placid face of Agnes, and in the very -touch of her hand upon his arm, that did wonders for him. - -My aunt (who was busy nearly all this while with Peggotty, in the inner -room) would not accompany us to the place where they were staying, but -insisted on my going; and I went. We dined together. After dinner, Agnes -sat beside him, as of old, and poured out his wine. He took what she -gave him, and no more--like a child--and we all three sat together at a -window as the evening gathered in. When it was almost dark, he lay down -on a sofa, Agnes pillowing his head and bending over him a little while; -and when she came back to the window, it was not so dark but I could see -tears glittering in her eyes. - -I pray Heaven that I never may forget the dear girl in her love and -truth, at that time of my life; for if I should, I must be drawing near -the end, and then I would desire to remember her best! She filled my -heart with such good resolutions, strengthened my weakness so, by her -example, so directed--I know not how, she was too modest and gentle -to advise me in many words--the wandering ardour and unsettled purpose -within me, that all the little good I have done, and all the harm I have -forborne, I solemnly believe I may refer to her. - -And how she spoke to me of Dora, sitting at the window in the dark; -listened to my praises of her; praised again; and round the little -fairy-figure shed some glimpses of her own pure light, that made it yet -more precious and more innocent to me! Oh, Agnes, sister of my boyhood, -if I had known then, what I knew long afterwards--! - -There was a beggar in the street, when I went down; and as I turned my -head towards the window, thinking of her calm seraphic eyes, he made me -start by muttering, as if he were an echo of the morning: 'Blind! Blind! -Blind!' - - - -CHAPTER 36. ENTHUSIASM - -I began the next day with another dive into the Roman bath, and then -started for Highgate. I was not dispirited now. I was not afraid of the -shabby coat, and had no yearnings after gallant greys. My whole manner -of thinking of our late misfortune was changed. What I had to do, was, -to show my aunt that her past goodness to me had not been thrown away -on an insensible, ungrateful object. What I had to do, was, to turn the -painful discipline of my younger days to account, by going to work with -a resolute and steady heart. What I had to do, was, to take my woodman's -axe in my hand, and clear my own way through the forest of difficulty, -by cutting down the trees until I came to Dora. And I went on at a -mighty rate, as if it could be done by walking. - -When I found myself on the familiar Highgate road, pursuing such a -different errand from that old one of pleasure, with which it was -associated, it seemed as if a complete change had come on my whole life. -But that did not discourage me. With the new life, came new purpose, -new intention. Great was the labour; priceless the reward. Dora was the -reward, and Dora must be won. - -I got into such a transport, that I felt quite sorry my coat was not -a little shabby already. I wanted to be cutting at those trees in the -forest of difficulty, under circumstances that should prove my strength. -I had a good mind to ask an old man, in wire spectacles, who was -breaking stones upon the road, to lend me his hammer for a little while, -and let me begin to beat a path to Dora out of granite. I stimulated -myself into such a heat, and got so out of breath, that I felt as if I -had been earning I don't know how much. - -In this state, I went into a cottage that I saw was to let, and examined -it narrowly,--for I felt it necessary to be practical. It would do for -me and Dora admirably: with a little front garden for Jip to run about -in, and bark at the tradespeople through the railings, and a capital -room upstairs for my aunt. I came out again, hotter and faster than -ever, and dashed up to Highgate, at such a rate that I was there an -hour too early; and, though I had not been, should have been obliged to -stroll about to cool myself, before I was at all presentable. - -My first care, after putting myself under this necessary course of -preparation, was to find the Doctor's house. It was not in that part of -Highgate where Mrs. Steerforth lived, but quite on the opposite side -of the little town. When I had made this discovery, I went back, in -an attraction I could not resist, to a lane by Mrs. Steerforth's, and -looked over the corner of the garden wall. His room was shut up close. -The conservatory doors were standing open, and Rosa Dartle was walking, -bareheaded, with a quick, impetuous step, up and down a gravel walk on -one side of the lawn. She gave me the idea of some fierce thing, that -was dragging the length of its chain to and fro upon a beaten track, and -wearing its heart out. - -I came softly away from my place of observation, and avoiding that part -of the neighbourhood, and wishing I had not gone near it, strolled about -until it was ten o'clock. The church with the slender spire, that stands -on the top of the hill now, was not there then to tell me the time. An -old red-brick mansion, used as a school, was in its place; and a fine -old house it must have been to go to school at, as I recollect it. - -When I approached the Doctor's cottage--a pretty old place, on which -he seemed to have expended some money, if I might judge from the -embellishments and repairs that had the look of being just completed--I -saw him walking in the garden at the side, gaiters and all, as if he -had never left off walking since the days of my pupilage. He had his old -companions about him, too; for there were plenty of high trees in the -neighbourhood, and two or three rooks were on the grass, looking after -him, as if they had been written to about him by the Canterbury rooks, -and were observing him closely in consequence. - -Knowing the utter hopelessness of attracting his attention from that -distance, I made bold to open the gate, and walk after him, so as to -meet him when he should turn round. When he did, and came towards me, he -looked at me thoughtfully for a few moments, evidently without thinking -about me at all; and then his benevolent face expressed extraordinary -pleasure, and he took me by both hands. - -'Why, my dear Copperfield,' said the Doctor, 'you are a man! How do you -do? I am delighted to see you. My dear Copperfield, how very much you -have improved! You are quite--yes--dear me!' - -I hoped he was well, and Mrs. Strong too. - -'Oh dear, yes!' said the Doctor; 'Annie's quite well, and she'll be -delighted to see you. You were always her favourite. She said so, -last night, when I showed her your letter. And--yes, to be sure--you -recollect Mr. Jack Maldon, Copperfield?' - -'Perfectly, sir.' - -'Of course,' said the Doctor. 'To be sure. He's pretty well, too.' - -'Has he come home, sir?' I inquired. - -'From India?' said the Doctor. 'Yes. Mr. Jack Maldon couldn't bear -the climate, my dear. Mrs. Markleham--you have not forgotten Mrs. -Markleham?' - -Forgotten the Old Soldier! And in that short time! - -'Mrs. Markleham,' said the Doctor, 'was quite vexed about him, poor -thing; so we have got him at home again; and we have bought him a little -Patent place, which agrees with him much better.' I knew enough of Mr. -Jack Maldon to suspect from this account that it was a place where there -was not much to do, and which was pretty well paid. The Doctor, walking -up and down with his hand on my shoulder, and his kind face turned -encouragingly to mine, went on: - -'Now, my dear Copperfield, in reference to this proposal of yours. It's -very gratifying and agreeable to me, I am sure; but don't you think you -could do better? You achieved distinction, you know, when you were with -us. You are qualified for many good things. You have laid a foundation -that any edifice may be raised upon; and is it not a pity that you -should devote the spring-time of your life to such a poor pursuit as I -can offer?' - -I became very glowing again, and, expressing myself in a rhapsodical -style, I am afraid, urged my request strongly; reminding the Doctor that -I had already a profession. - -'Well, well,' said the Doctor, 'that's true. Certainly, your having -a profession, and being actually engaged in studying it, makes a -difference. But, my good young friend, what's seventy pounds a year?' - -'It doubles our income, Doctor Strong,' said I. - -'Dear me!' replied the Doctor. 'To think of that! Not that I mean to -say it's rigidly limited to seventy pounds a-year, because I have always -contemplated making any young friend I might thus employ, a present too. -Undoubtedly,' said the Doctor, still walking me up and down with -his hand on my shoulder. 'I have always taken an annual present into -account.' - -'My dear tutor,' said I (now, really, without any nonsense), 'to whom I -owe more obligations already than I ever can acknowledge--' - -'No, no,' interposed the Doctor. 'Pardon me!' - -'If you will take such time as I have, and that is my mornings and -evenings, and can think it worth seventy pounds a year, you will do me -such a service as I cannot express.' - -'Dear me!' said the Doctor, innocently. 'To think that so little should -go for so much! Dear, dear! And when you can do better, you will? On -your word, now?' said the Doctor,--which he had always made a very grave -appeal to the honour of us boys. - -'On my word, sir!' I returned, answering in our old school manner. - -'Then be it so,' said the Doctor, clapping me on the shoulder, and still -keeping his hand there, as we still walked up and down. - -'And I shall be twenty times happier, sir,' said I, with a little--I -hope innocent--flattery, 'if my employment is to be on the Dictionary.' - -The Doctor stopped, smilingly clapped me on the shoulder again, and -exclaimed, with a triumph most delightful to behold, as if I had -penetrated to the profoundest depths of mortal sagacity, 'My dear young -friend, you have hit it. It IS the Dictionary!' - -How could it be anything else! His pockets were as full of it as his -head. It was sticking out of him in all directions. He told me that -since his retirement from scholastic life, he had been advancing with -it wonderfully; and that nothing could suit him better than the proposed -arrangements for morning and evening work, as it was his custom to walk -about in the daytime with his considering cap on. His papers were in -a little confusion, in consequence of Mr. Jack Maldon having lately -proffered his occasional services as an amanuensis, and not being -accustomed to that occupation; but we should soon put right what was -amiss, and go on swimmingly. Afterwards, when we were fairly at our -work, I found Mr. Jack Maldon's efforts more troublesome to me than -I had expected, as he had not confined himself to making numerous -mistakes, but had sketched so many soldiers, and ladies' heads, over -the Doctor's manuscript, that I often became involved in labyrinths of -obscurity. - -The Doctor was quite happy in the prospect of our going to work together -on that wonderful performance, and we settled to begin next morning at -seven o'clock. We were to work two hours every morning, and two or three -hours every night, except on Saturdays, when I was to rest. On Sundays, -of course, I was to rest also, and I considered these very easy terms. - -Our plans being thus arranged to our mutual satisfaction, the Doctor -took me into the house to present me to Mrs. Strong, whom we found in -the Doctor's new study, dusting his books,--a freedom which he never -permitted anybody else to take with those sacred favourites. - -They had postponed their breakfast on my account, and we sat down to -table together. We had not been seated long, when I saw an approaching -arrival in Mrs. Strong's face, before I heard any sound of it. A -gentleman on horseback came to the gate, and leading his horse into the -little court, with the bridle over his arm, as if he were quite at home, -tied him to a ring in the empty coach-house wall, and came into the -breakfast parlour, whip in hand. It was Mr. Jack Maldon; and Mr. Jack -Maldon was not at all improved by India, I thought. I was in a state -of ferocious virtue, however, as to young men who were not cutting down -trees in the forest of difficulty; and my impression must be received -with due allowance. - -'Mr. Jack!' said the Doctor. 'Copperfield!' - -Mr. Jack Maldon shook hands with me; but not very warmly, I believed; -and with an air of languid patronage, at which I secretly took great -umbrage. But his languor altogether was quite a wonderful sight; except -when he addressed himself to his cousin Annie. 'Have you breakfasted -this morning, Mr. Jack?' said the Doctor. - -'I hardly ever take breakfast, sir,' he replied, with his head thrown -back in an easy-chair. 'I find it bores me.' - -'Is there any news today?' inquired the Doctor. - -'Nothing at all, sir,' replied Mr. Maldon. 'There's an account about -the people being hungry and discontented down in the North, but they are -always being hungry and discontented somewhere.' - -The Doctor looked grave, and said, as though he wished to change the -subject, 'Then there's no news at all; and no news, they say, is good -news.' - -'There's a long statement in the papers, sir, about a murder,' observed -Mr. Maldon. 'But somebody is always being murdered, and I didn't read -it.' - -A display of indifference to all the actions and passions of mankind was -not supposed to be such a distinguished quality at that time, I think, -as I have observed it to be considered since. I have known it very -fashionable indeed. I have seen it displayed with such success, that I -have encountered some fine ladies and gentlemen who might as well have -been born caterpillars. Perhaps it impressed me the more then, because -it was new to me, but it certainly did not tend to exalt my opinion of, -or to strengthen my confidence in, Mr. Jack Maldon. - -'I came out to inquire whether Annie would like to go to the opera -tonight,' said Mr. Maldon, turning to her. 'It's the last good night -there will be, this season; and there's a singer there, whom she really -ought to hear. She is perfectly exquisite. Besides which, she is so -charmingly ugly,' relapsing into languor. - -The Doctor, ever pleased with what was likely to please his young wife, -turned to her and said: - -'You must go, Annie. You must go.' - -'I would rather not,' she said to the Doctor. 'I prefer to remain at -home. I would much rather remain at home.' - -Without looking at her cousin, she then addressed me, and asked me about -Agnes, and whether she should see her, and whether she was not likely to -come that day; and was so much disturbed, that I wondered how even the -Doctor, buttering his toast, could be blind to what was so obvious. - -But he saw nothing. He told her, good-naturedly, that she was young and -ought to be amused and entertained, and must not allow herself to be -made dull by a dull old fellow. Moreover, he said, he wanted to hear her -sing all the new singer's songs to him; and how could she do that well, -unless she went? So the Doctor persisted in making the engagement for -her, and Mr. Jack Maldon was to come back to dinner. This concluded, he -went to his Patent place, I suppose; but at all events went away on his -horse, looking very idle. - -I was curious to find out next morning, whether she had been. She had -not, but had sent into London to put her cousin off; and had gone out in -the afternoon to see Agnes, and had prevailed upon the Doctor to go with -her; and they had walked home by the fields, the Doctor told me, the -evening being delightful. I wondered then, whether she would have gone -if Agnes had not been in town, and whether Agnes had some good influence -over her too! - -She did not look very happy, I thought; but it was a good face, or a -very false one. I often glanced at it, for she sat in the window all the -time we were at work; and made our breakfast, which we took by snatches -as we were employed. When I left, at nine o'clock, she was kneeling on -the ground at the Doctor's feet, putting on his shoes and gaiters for -him. There was a softened shade upon her face, thrown from some green -leaves overhanging the open window of the low room; and I thought all -the way to Doctors' Commons, of the night when I had seen it looking at -him as he read. - -I was pretty busy now; up at five in the morning, and home at nine -or ten at night. But I had infinite satisfaction in being so -closely engaged, and never walked slowly on any account, and felt -enthusiastically that the more I tired myself, the more I was doing to -deserve Dora. I had not revealed myself in my altered character to -Dora yet, because she was coming to see Miss Mills in a few days, and -I deferred all I had to tell her until then; merely informing her in -my letters (all our communications were secretly forwarded through Miss -Mills), that I had much to tell her. In the meantime, I put myself on -a short allowance of bear's grease, wholly abandoned scented soap and -lavender water, and sold off three waistcoats at a prodigious sacrifice, -as being too luxurious for my stern career. - -Not satisfied with all these proceedings, but burning with impatience -to do something more, I went to see Traddles, now lodging up behind the -parapet of a house in Castle Street, Holborn. Mr. Dick, who had been -with me to Highgate twice already, and had resumed his companionship -with the Doctor, I took with me. - -I took Mr. Dick with me, because, acutely sensitive to my aunt's -reverses, and sincerely believing that no galley-slave or convict worked -as I did, he had begun to fret and worry himself out of spirits and -appetite, as having nothing useful to do. In this condition, he felt -more incapable of finishing the Memorial than ever; and the harder he -worked at it, the oftener that unlucky head of King Charles the First -got into it. Seriously apprehending that his malady would increase, -unless we put some innocent deception upon him and caused him to believe -that he was useful, or unless we could put him in the way of being -really useful (which would be better), I made up my mind to try -if Traddles could help us. Before we went, I wrote Traddles a full -statement of all that had happened, and Traddles wrote me back a capital -answer, expressive of his sympathy and friendship. - -We found him hard at work with his inkstand and papers, refreshed by the -sight of the flower-pot stand and the little round table in a corner of -the small apartment. He received us cordially, and made friends with -Mr. Dick in a moment. Mr. Dick professed an absolute certainty of having -seen him before, and we both said, 'Very likely.' - -The first subject on which I had to consult Traddles was this,--I had -heard that many men distinguished in various pursuits had begun life -by reporting the debates in Parliament. Traddles having mentioned -newspapers to me, as one of his hopes, I had put the two things -together, and told Traddles in my letter that I wished to know how I -could qualify myself for this pursuit. Traddles now informed me, as the -result of his inquiries, that the mere mechanical acquisition necessary, -except in rare cases, for thorough excellence in it, that is to say, -a perfect and entire command of the mystery of short-hand writing and -reading, was about equal in difficulty to the mastery of six languages; -and that it might perhaps be attained, by dint of perseverance, in the -course of a few years. Traddles reasonably supposed that this would -settle the business; but I, only feeling that here indeed were a few -tall trees to be hewn down, immediately resolved to work my way on to -Dora through this thicket, axe in hand. - -'I am very much obliged to you, my dear Traddles!' said I. 'I'll begin -tomorrow.' - -Traddles looked astonished, as he well might; but he had no notion as -yet of my rapturous condition. - -'I'll buy a book,' said I, 'with a good scheme of this art in it; I'll -work at it at the Commons, where I haven't half enough to do; I'll take -down the speeches in our court for practice--Traddles, my dear fellow, -I'll master it!' - -'Dear me,' said Traddles, opening his eyes, 'I had no idea you were such -a determined character, Copperfield!' - -I don't know how he should have had, for it was new enough to me. I -passed that off, and brought Mr. Dick on the carpet. - -'You see,' said Mr. Dick, wistfully, 'if I could exert myself, Mr. -Traddles--if I could beat a drum--or blow anything!' - -Poor fellow! I have little doubt he would have preferred such an -employment in his heart to all others. Traddles, who would not have -smiled for the world, replied composedly: - -'But you are a very good penman, sir. You told me so, Copperfield?' -'Excellent!' said I. And indeed he was. He wrote with extraordinary -neatness. - -'Don't you think,' said Traddles, 'you could copy writings, sir, if I -got them for you?' - -Mr. Dick looked doubtfully at me. 'Eh, Trotwood?' - -I shook my head. Mr. Dick shook his, and sighed. 'Tell him about the -Memorial,' said Mr. Dick. - -I explained to Traddles that there was a difficulty in keeping King -Charles the First out of Mr. Dick's manuscripts; Mr. Dick in the -meanwhile looking very deferentially and seriously at Traddles, and -sucking his thumb. - -'But these writings, you know, that I speak of, are already drawn up -and finished,' said Traddles after a little consideration. 'Mr. Dick has -nothing to do with them. Wouldn't that make a difference, Copperfield? -At all events, wouldn't it be well to try?' - -This gave us new hope. Traddles and I laying our heads together apart, -while Mr. Dick anxiously watched us from his chair, we concocted a -scheme in virtue of which we got him to work next day, with triumphant -success. - -On a table by the window in Buckingham Street, we set out the work -Traddles procured for him--which was to make, I forget how many copies -of a legal document about some right of way--and on another table -we spread the last unfinished original of the great Memorial. Our -instructions to Mr. Dick were that he should copy exactly what he had -before him, without the least departure from the original; and that when -he felt it necessary to make the slightest allusion to King Charles the -First, he should fly to the Memorial. We exhorted him to be resolute -in this, and left my aunt to observe him. My aunt reported to us, -afterwards, that, at first, he was like a man playing the kettle-drums, -and constantly divided his attentions between the two; but that, finding -this confuse and fatigue him, and having his copy there, plainly before -his eyes, he soon sat at it in an orderly business-like manner, and -postponed the Memorial to a more convenient time. In a word, although we -took great care that he should have no more to do than was good for him, -and although he did not begin with the beginning of a week, he earned -by the following Saturday night ten shillings and nine-pence; and never, -while I live, shall I forget his going about to all the shops in the -neighbourhood to change this treasure into sixpences, or his bringing -them to my aunt arranged in the form of a heart upon a waiter, with -tears of joy and pride in his eyes. He was like one under the propitious -influence of a charm, from the moment of his being usefully employed; -and if there were a happy man in the world, that Saturday night, it was -the grateful creature who thought my aunt the most wonderful woman in -existence, and me the most wonderful young man. - -'No starving now, Trotwood,' said Mr. Dick, shaking hands with me in a -corner. 'I'll provide for her, Sir!' and he flourished his ten fingers -in the air, as if they were ten banks. - -I hardly know which was the better pleased, Traddles or I. 'It really,' -said Traddles, suddenly, taking a letter out of his pocket, and giving -it to me, 'put Mr. Micawber quite out of my head!' - -The letter (Mr. Micawber never missed any possible opportunity of -writing a letter) was addressed to me, 'By the kindness of T. Traddles, -Esquire, of the Inner Temple.' It ran thus:-- - - -'MY DEAR COPPERFIELD, - -'You may possibly not be unprepared to receive the intimation that -something has turned up. I may have mentioned to you on a former -occasion that I was in expectation of such an event. - -'I am about to establish myself in one of the provincial towns of our -favoured island (where the society may be described as a happy admixture -of the agricultural and the clerical), in immediate connexion with -one of the learned professions. Mrs. Micawber and our offspring will -accompany me. Our ashes, at a future period, will probably be found -commingled in the cemetery attached to a venerable pile, for which the -spot to which I refer has acquired a reputation, shall I say from China -to Peru? - -'In bidding adieu to the modern Babylon, where we have undergone many -vicissitudes, I trust not ignobly, Mrs. Micawber and myself cannot -disguise from our minds that we part, it may be for years and it may be -for ever, with an individual linked by strong associations to the altar -of our domestic life. If, on the eve of such a departure, you will -accompany our mutual friend, Mr. Thomas Traddles, to our present abode, -and there reciprocate the wishes natural to the occasion, you will -confer a Boon - - 'On - 'One - 'Who - 'Is - 'Ever yours, - 'WILKINS MICAWBER.' - - -I was glad to find that Mr. Micawber had got rid of his dust and ashes, -and that something really had turned up at last. Learning from Traddles -that the invitation referred to the evening then wearing away, I -expressed my readiness to do honour to it; and we went off together to -the lodging which Mr. Micawber occupied as Mr. Mortimer, and which was -situated near the top of the Gray's Inn Road. - -The resources of this lodging were so limited, that we found the twins, -now some eight or nine years old, reposing in a turn-up bedstead in -the family sitting-room, where Mr. Micawber had prepared, in a -wash-hand-stand jug, what he called 'a Brew' of the agreeable beverage -for which he was famous. I had the pleasure, on this occasion, of -renewing the acquaintance of Master Micawber, whom I found a promising -boy of about twelve or thirteen, very subject to that restlessness of -limb which is not an unfrequent phenomenon in youths of his age. I also -became once more known to his sister, Miss Micawber, in whom, as Mr. -Micawber told us, 'her mother renewed her youth, like the Phoenix'. - -'My dear Copperfield,' said Mr. Micawber, 'yourself and Mr. Traddles -find us on the brink of migration, and will excuse any little -discomforts incidental to that position.' - -Glancing round as I made a suitable reply, I observed that the family -effects were already packed, and that the amount of luggage was by no -means overwhelming. I congratulated Mrs. Micawber on the approaching -change. - -'My dear Mr. Copperfield,' said Mrs. Micawber, 'of your friendly -interest in all our affairs, I am well assured. My family may consider -it banishment, if they please; but I am a wife and mother, and I never -will desert Mr. Micawber.' - -Traddles, appealed to by Mrs. Micawber's eye, feelingly acquiesced. - -'That,' said Mrs. Micawber, 'that, at least, is my view, my dear Mr. -Copperfield and Mr. Traddles, of the obligation which I took upon myself -when I repeated the irrevocable words, "I, Emma, take thee, Wilkins." I -read the service over with a flat-candle on the previous night, and -the conclusion I derived from it was, that I never could desert Mr. -Micawber. And,' said Mrs. Micawber, 'though it is possible I may be -mistaken in my view of the ceremony, I never will!' - -'My dear,' said Mr. Micawber, a little impatiently, 'I am not conscious -that you are expected to do anything of the sort.' - -'I am aware, my dear Mr. Copperfield,' pursued Mrs. Micawber, 'that I am -now about to cast my lot among strangers; and I am also aware that the -various members of my family, to whom Mr. Micawber has written in the -most gentlemanly terms, announcing that fact, have not taken the least -notice of Mr. Micawber's communication. Indeed I may be superstitious,' -said Mrs. Micawber, 'but it appears to me that Mr. Micawber is destined -never to receive any answers whatever to the great majority of the -communications he writes. I may augur, from the silence of my family, -that they object to the resolution I have taken; but I should not allow -myself to be swerved from the path of duty, Mr. Copperfield, even by my -papa and mama, were they still living.' - -I expressed my opinion that this was going in the right direction. 'It -may be a sacrifice,' said Mrs. Micawber, 'to immure one's-self in a -Cathedral town; but surely, Mr. Copperfield, if it is a sacrifice in me, -it is much more a sacrifice in a man of Mr. Micawber's abilities.' - -'Oh! You are going to a Cathedral town?' said I. - -Mr. Micawber, who had been helping us all, out of the wash-hand-stand -jug, replied: - -'To Canterbury. In fact, my dear Copperfield, I have entered into -arrangements, by virtue of which I stand pledged and contracted to our -friend Heep, to assist and serve him in the capacity of--and to be--his -confidential clerk.' - -I stared at Mr. Micawber, who greatly enjoyed my surprise. - -'I am bound to state to you,' he said, with an official air, 'that the -business habits, and the prudent suggestions, of Mrs. Micawber, have -in a great measure conduced to this result. The gauntlet, to which Mrs. -Micawber referred upon a former occasion, being thrown down in the form -of an advertisement, was taken up by my friend Heep, and led to a mutual -recognition. Of my friend Heep,' said Mr. Micawber, 'who is a man of -remarkable shrewdness, I desire to speak with all possible respect. -My friend Heep has not fixed the positive remuneration at too high a -figure, but he has made a great deal, in the way of extrication from -the pressure of pecuniary difficulties, contingent on the value of -my services; and on the value of those services I pin my faith. Such -address and intelligence as I chance to possess,' said Mr. Micawber, -boastfully disparaging himself, with the old genteel air, 'will be -devoted to my friend Heep's service. I have already some acquaintance -with the law--as a defendant on civil process--and I shall immediately -apply myself to the Commentaries of one of the most eminent and -remarkable of our English jurists. I believe it is unnecessary to add -that I allude to Mr. justice Blackstone.' - -These observations, and indeed the greater part of the observations -made that evening, were interrupted by Mrs. Micawber's discovering that -Master Micawber was sitting on his boots, or holding his head on with -both arms as if he felt it loose, or accidentally kicking Traddles under -the table, or shuffling his feet over one another, or producing them -at distances from himself apparently outrageous to nature, or lying -sideways with his hair among the wine-glasses, or developing his -restlessness of limb in some other form incompatible with the general -interests of society; and by Master Micawber's receiving those -discoveries in a resentful spirit. I sat all the while, amazed by Mr. -Micawber's disclosure, and wondering what it meant; until Mrs. Micawber -resumed the thread of the discourse, and claimed my attention. - -'What I particularly request Mr. Micawber to be careful of, is,' said -Mrs. Micawber, 'that he does not, my dear Mr. Copperfield, in applying -himself to this subordinate branch of the law, place it out of his power -to rise, ultimately, to the top of the tree. I am convinced that Mr. -Micawber, giving his mind to a profession so adapted to his fertile -resources, and his flow of language, must distinguish himself. Now, for -example, Mr. Traddles,' said Mrs. Micawber, assuming a profound air, 'a -judge, or even say a Chancellor. Does an individual place himself beyond -the pale of those preferments by entering on such an office as Mr. -Micawber has accepted?' - -'My dear,' observed Mr. Micawber--but glancing inquisitively at -Traddles, too; 'we have time enough before us, for the consideration of -those questions.' - -'Micawber,' she returned, 'no! Your mistake in life is, that you do not -look forward far enough. You are bound, in justice to your family, if -not to yourself, to take in at a comprehensive glance the extremest -point in the horizon to which your abilities may lead you.' - -Mr. Micawber coughed, and drank his punch with an air of exceeding -satisfaction--still glancing at Traddles, as if he desired to have his -opinion. - -'Why, the plain state of the case, Mrs. Micawber,' said Traddles, mildly -breaking the truth to her. 'I mean the real prosaic fact, you know--' - -'Just so,' said Mrs. Micawber, 'my dear Mr. Traddles, I wish to be as -prosaic and literal as possible on a subject of so much importance.' - -'--Is,' said Traddles, 'that this branch of the law, even if Mr. -Micawber were a regular solicitor--' - -'Exactly so,' returned Mrs. Micawber. ('Wilkins, you are squinting, and -will not be able to get your eyes back.') - -'--Has nothing,' pursued Traddles, 'to do with that. Only a barrister -is eligible for such preferments; and Mr. Micawber could not be a -barrister, without being entered at an inn of court as a student, for -five years.' - -'Do I follow you?' said Mrs. Micawber, with her most affable air -of business. 'Do I understand, my dear Mr. Traddles, that, at the -expiration of that period, Mr. Micawber would be eligible as a Judge or -Chancellor?' - -'He would be ELIGIBLE,' returned Traddles, with a strong emphasis on -that word. - -'Thank you,' said Mrs. Micawber. 'That is quite sufficient. If such is -the case, and Mr. Micawber forfeits no privilege by entering on these -duties, my anxiety is set at rest. I speak,' said Mrs. Micawber, 'as a -female, necessarily; but I have always been of opinion that Mr. Micawber -possesses what I have heard my papa call, when I lived at home, the -judicial mind; and I hope Mr. Micawber is now entering on a field where -that mind will develop itself, and take a commanding station.' - -I quite believe that Mr. Micawber saw himself, in his judicial mind's -eye, on the woolsack. He passed his hand complacently over his bald -head, and said with ostentatious resignation: - -'My dear, we will not anticipate the decrees of fortune. If I am -reserved to wear a wig, I am at least prepared, externally,' in allusion -to his baldness, 'for that distinction. I do not,' said Mr. Micawber, -'regret my hair, and I may have been deprived of it for a specific -purpose. I cannot say. It is my intention, my dear Copperfield, to -educate my son for the Church; I will not deny that I should be happy, -on his account, to attain to eminence.' - -'For the Church?' said I, still pondering, between whiles, on Uriah -Heep. - -'Yes,' said Mr. Micawber. 'He has a remarkable head-voice, and will -commence as a chorister. Our residence at Canterbury, and our local -connexion, will, no doubt, enable him to take advantage of any vacancy -that may arise in the Cathedral corps.' - -On looking at Master Micawber again, I saw that he had a certain -expression of face, as if his voice were behind his eyebrows; where it -presently appeared to be, on his singing us (as an alternative between -that and bed) 'The Wood-Pecker tapping'. After many compliments on this -performance, we fell into some general conversation; and as I was too -full of my desperate intentions to keep my altered circumstances to -myself, I made them known to Mr. and Mrs. Micawber. I cannot express how -extremely delighted they both were, by the idea of my aunt's being in -difficulties; and how comfortable and friendly it made them. - -When we were nearly come to the last round of the punch, I addressed -myself to Traddles, and reminded him that we must not separate, without -wishing our friends health, happiness, and success in their new career. -I begged Mr. Micawber to fill us bumpers, and proposed the toast in -due form: shaking hands with him across the table, and kissing Mrs. -Micawber, to commemorate that eventful occasion. Traddles imitated me -in the first particular, but did not consider himself a sufficiently old -friend to venture on the second. - -'My dear Copperfield,' said Mr. Micawber, rising with one of his thumbs -in each of his waistcoat pockets, 'the companion of my youth: if I may -be allowed the expression--and my esteemed friend Traddles: if I may be -permitted to call him so--will allow me, on the part of Mrs. Micawber, -myself, and our offspring, to thank them in the warmest and most -uncompromising terms for their good wishes. It may be expected that -on the eve of a migration which will consign us to a perfectly new -existence,' Mr. Micawber spoke as if they were going five hundred -thousand miles, 'I should offer a few valedictory remarks to two such -friends as I see before me. But all that I have to say in this way, I -have said. Whatever station in society I may attain, through the medium -of the learned profession of which I am about to become an unworthy -member, I shall endeavour not to disgrace, and Mrs. Micawber will be -safe to adorn. Under the temporary pressure of pecuniary liabilities, -contracted with a view to their immediate liquidation, but remaining -unliquidated through a combination of circumstances, I have been -under the necessity of assuming a garb from which my natural instincts -recoil--I allude to spectacles--and possessing myself of a cognomen, to -which I can establish no legitimate pretensions. All I have to say on -that score is, that the cloud has passed from the dreary scene, and the -God of Day is once more high upon the mountain tops. On Monday next, on -the arrival of the four o'clock afternoon coach at Canterbury, my foot -will be on my native heath--my name, Micawber!' - -Mr. Micawber resumed his seat on the close of these remarks, and -drank two glasses of punch in grave succession. He then said with much -solemnity: - -'One thing more I have to do, before this separation is complete, and -that is to perform an act of justice. My friend Mr. Thomas Traddles -has, on two several occasions, "put his name", if I may use a common -expression, to bills of exchange for my accommodation. On the first -occasion Mr. Thomas Traddles was left--let me say, in short, in the -lurch. The fulfilment of the second has not yet arrived. The amount of -the first obligation,' here Mr. Micawber carefully referred to papers, -'was, I believe, twenty-three, four, nine and a half, of the second, -according to my entry of that transaction, eighteen, six, two. These -sums, united, make a total, if my calculation is correct, amounting to -forty-one, ten, eleven and a half. My friend Copperfield will perhaps do -me the favour to check that total?' - -I did so and found it correct. - -'To leave this metropolis,' said Mr. Micawber, 'and my friend Mr. -Thomas Traddles, without acquitting myself of the pecuniary part of this -obligation, would weigh upon my mind to an insupportable extent. I have, -therefore, prepared for my friend Mr. Thomas Traddles, and I now hold -in my hand, a document, which accomplishes the desired object. I beg -to hand to my friend Mr. Thomas Traddles my I.O.U. for forty-one, ten, -eleven and a half, and I am happy to recover my moral dignity, and to -know that I can once more walk erect before my fellow man!' - -With this introduction (which greatly affected him), Mr. Micawber placed -his I.O.U. in the hands of Traddles, and said he wished him well in -every relation of life. I am persuaded, not only that this was quite -the same to Mr. Micawber as paying the money, but that Traddles himself -hardly knew the difference until he had had time to think about it. Mr. -Micawber walked so erect before his fellow man, on the strength of -this virtuous action, that his chest looked half as broad again when he -lighted us downstairs. We parted with great heartiness on both sides; -and when I had seen Traddles to his own door, and was going home alone, -I thought, among the other odd and contradictory things I mused upon, -that, slippery as Mr. Micawber was, I was probably indebted to some -compassionate recollection he retained of me as his boy-lodger, for -never having been asked by him for money. I certainly should not have -had the moral courage to refuse it; and I have no doubt he knew that (to -his credit be it written), quite as well as I did. - - - -CHAPTER 37. A LITTLE COLD WATER - - -My new life had lasted for more than a week, and I was stronger than -ever in those tremendous practical resolutions that I felt the crisis -required. I continued to walk extremely fast, and to have a general idea -that I was getting on. I made it a rule to take as much out of myself -as I possibly could, in my way of doing everything to which I applied -my energies. I made a perfect victim of myself. I even entertained some -idea of putting myself on a vegetable diet, vaguely conceiving that, in -becoming a graminivorous animal, I should sacrifice to Dora. - -As yet, little Dora was quite unconscious of my desperate firmness, -otherwise than as my letters darkly shadowed it forth. But another -Saturday came, and on that Saturday evening she was to be at Miss -Mills's; and when Mr. Mills had gone to his whist-club (telegraphed to -me in the street, by a bird-cage in the drawing-room middle window), I -was to go there to tea. - -By this time, we were quite settled down in Buckingham Street, where Mr. -Dick continued his copying in a state of absolute felicity. My aunt had -obtained a signal victory over Mrs. Crupp, by paying her off, throwing -the first pitcher she planted on the stairs out of window, and -protecting in person, up and down the staircase, a supernumerary whom -she engaged from the outer world. These vigorous measures struck such -terror to the breast of Mrs. Crupp, that she subsided into her own -kitchen, under the impression that my aunt was mad. My aunt being -supremely indifferent to Mrs. Crupp's opinion and everybody else's, and -rather favouring than discouraging the idea, Mrs. Crupp, of late the -bold, became within a few days so faint-hearted, that rather than -encounter my aunt upon the staircase, she would endeavour to hide her -portly form behind doors--leaving visible, however, a wide margin of -flannel petticoat--or would shrink into dark corners. This gave my aunt -such unspeakable satisfaction, that I believe she took a delight in -prowling up and down, with her bonnet insanely perched on the top of her -head, at times when Mrs. Crupp was likely to be in the way. - -My aunt, being uncommonly neat and ingenious, made so many little -improvements in our domestic arrangements, that I seemed to be richer -instead of poorer. Among the rest, she converted the pantry into a -dressing-room for me; and purchased and embellished a bedstead for my -occupation, which looked as like a bookcase in the daytime as a bedstead -could. I was the object of her constant solicitude; and my poor mother -herself could not have loved me better, or studied more how to make me -happy. - -Peggotty had considered herself highly privileged in being allowed to -participate in these labours; and, although she still retained something -of her old sentiment of awe in reference to my aunt, had received so -many marks of encouragement and confidence, that they were the best -friends possible. But the time had now come (I am speaking of the -Saturday when I was to take tea at Miss Mills's) when it was necessary -for her to return home, and enter on the discharge of the duties she had -undertaken in behalf of Ham. 'So good-bye, Barkis,' said my aunt, 'and -take care of yourself! I am sure I never thought I could be sorry to -lose you!' - -I took Peggotty to the coach office and saw her off. She cried at -parting, and confided her brother to my friendship as Ham had done. We -had heard nothing of him since he went away, that sunny afternoon. - -'And now, my own dear Davy,' said Peggotty, 'if, while you're a -prentice, you should want any money to spend; or if, when you're out of -your time, my dear, you should want any to set you up (and you must do -one or other, or both, my darling); who has such a good right to ask -leave to lend it you, as my sweet girl's own old stupid me!' - -I was not so savagely independent as to say anything in reply, but that -if ever I borrowed money of anyone, I would borrow it of her. Next to -accepting a large sum on the spot, I believe this gave Peggotty more -comfort than anything I could have done. - -'And, my dear!' whispered Peggotty, 'tell the pretty little angel that -I should so have liked to see her, only for a minute! And tell her that -before she marries my boy, I'll come and make your house so beautiful -for you, if you'll let me!' - -I declared that nobody else should touch it; and this gave Peggotty such -delight that she went away in good spirits. - -I fatigued myself as much as I possibly could in the Commons all day, by -a variety of devices, and at the appointed time in the evening repaired -to Mr. Mills's street. Mr. Mills, who was a terrible fellow to fall -asleep after dinner, had not yet gone out, and there was no bird-cage in -the middle window. - -He kept me waiting so long, that I fervently hoped the Club would fine -him for being late. At last he came out; and then I saw my own Dora hang -up the bird-cage, and peep into the balcony to look for me, and run -in again when she saw I was there, while Jip remained behind, to bark -injuriously at an immense butcher's dog in the street, who could have -taken him like a pill. - -Dora came to the drawing-room door to meet me; and Jip came scrambling -out, tumbling over his own growls, under the impression that I was a -Bandit; and we all three went in, as happy and loving as could be. I -soon carried desolation into the bosom of our joys--not that I meant to -do it, but that I was so full of the subject--by asking Dora, without -the smallest preparation, if she could love a beggar? - -My pretty, little, startled Dora! Her only association with the word was -a yellow face and a nightcap, or a pair of crutches, or a wooden leg, or -a dog with a decanter-stand in his mouth, or something of that kind; and -she stared at me with the most delightful wonder. - -'How can you ask me anything so foolish?' pouted Dora. 'Love a beggar!' - -'Dora, my own dearest!' said I. 'I am a beggar!' - -'How can you be such a silly thing,' replied Dora, slapping my hand, 'as -to sit there, telling such stories? I'll make Jip bite you!' - -Her childish way was the most delicious way in the world to me, but it -was necessary to be explicit, and I solemnly repeated: - -'Dora, my own life, I am your ruined David!' - -'I declare I'll make Jip bite you!' said Dora, shaking her curls, 'if -you are so ridiculous.' - -But I looked so serious, that Dora left off shaking her curls, and laid -her trembling little hand upon my shoulder, and first looked scared -and anxious, then began to cry. That was dreadful. I fell upon my knees -before the sofa, caressing her, and imploring her not to rend my heart; -but, for some time, poor little Dora did nothing but exclaim Oh dear! Oh -dear! And oh, she was so frightened! And where was Julia Mills! And oh, -take her to Julia Mills, and go away, please! until I was almost beside -myself. - -At last, after an agony of supplication and protestation, I got Dora -to look at me, with a horrified expression of face, which I gradually -soothed until it was only loving, and her soft, pretty cheek was lying -against mine. Then I told her, with my arms clasped round her, how I -loved her, so dearly, and so dearly; how I felt it right to offer to -release her from her engagement, because now I was poor; how I never -could bear it, or recover it, if I lost her; how I had no fears of -poverty, if she had none, my arm being nerved and my heart inspired by -her; how I was already working with a courage such as none but lovers -knew; how I had begun to be practical, and look into the future; how a -crust well earned was sweeter far than a feast inherited; and much -more to the same purpose, which I delivered in a burst of passionate -eloquence quite surprising to myself, though I had been thinking about -it, day and night, ever since my aunt had astonished me. - -'Is your heart mine still, dear Dora?' said I, rapturously, for I knew -by her clinging to me that it was. - -'Oh, yes!' cried Dora. 'Oh, yes, it's all yours. Oh, don't be dreadful!' - -I dreadful! To Dora! - -'Don't talk about being poor, and working hard!' said Dora, nestling -closer to me. 'Oh, don't, don't!' - -'My dearest love,' said I, 'the crust well-earned--' - -'Oh, yes; but I don't want to hear any more about crusts!' said Dora. -'And Jip must have a mutton-chop every day at twelve, or he'll die.' - -I was charmed with her childish, winning way. I fondly explained to Dora -that Jip should have his mutton-chop with his accustomed regularity. -I drew a picture of our frugal home, made independent by my -labour--sketching in the little house I had seen at Highgate, and my -aunt in her room upstairs. - -'I am not dreadful now, Dora?' said I, tenderly. - -'Oh, no, no!' cried Dora. 'But I hope your aunt will keep in her own -room a good deal. And I hope she's not a scolding old thing!' - -If it were possible for me to love Dora more than ever, I am sure I did. -But I felt she was a little impracticable. It damped my new-born ardour, -to find that ardour so difficult of communication to her. I made another -trial. When she was quite herself again, and was curling Jip's ears, as -he lay upon her lap, I became grave, and said: - -'My own! May I mention something?' - -'Oh, please don't be practical!' said Dora, coaxingly. 'Because it -frightens me so!' - -'Sweetheart!' I returned; 'there is nothing to alarm you in all this. I -want you to think of it quite differently. I want to make it nerve you, -and inspire you, Dora!' - -'Oh, but that's so shocking!' cried Dora. - -'My love, no. Perseverance and strength of character will enable us to -bear much worse things.' 'But I haven't got any strength at all,' -said Dora, shaking her curls. 'Have I, Jip? Oh, do kiss Jip, and be -agreeable!' - -It was impossible to resist kissing Jip, when she held him up to me for -that purpose, putting her own bright, rosy little mouth into kissing -form, as she directed the operation, which she insisted should be -performed symmetrically, on the centre of his nose. I did as she bade -me--rewarding myself afterwards for my obedience--and she charmed me out -of my graver character for I don't know how long. - -'But, Dora, my beloved!' said I, at last resuming it; 'I was going to -mention something.' - -The judge of the Prerogative Court might have fallen in love with her, -to see her fold her little hands and hold them up, begging and praying -me not to be dreadful any more. - -'Indeed I am not going to be, my darling!' I assured her. 'But, Dora, my -love, if you will sometimes think,--not despondingly, you know; far from -that!--but if you will sometimes think--just to encourage yourself--that -you are engaged to a poor man--' - -'Don't, don't! Pray don't!' cried Dora. 'It's so very dreadful!' - -'My soul, not at all!' said I, cheerfully. 'If you will sometimes think -of that, and look about now and then at your papa's housekeeping, and -endeavour to acquire a little habit--of accounts, for instance--' - -Poor little Dora received this suggestion with something that was half a -sob and half a scream. - -'--It would be so useful to us afterwards,' I went on. 'And if you would -promise me to read a little--a little Cookery Book that I would send -you, it would be so excellent for both of us. For our path in life, my -Dora,' said I, warming with the subject, 'is stony and rugged now, and -it rests with us to smooth it. We must fight our way onward. We must be -brave. There are obstacles to be met, and we must meet, and crush them!' - -I was going on at a great rate, with a clenched hand, and a most -enthusiastic countenance; but it was quite unnecessary to proceed. I had -said enough. I had done it again. Oh, she was so frightened! Oh, where -was Julia Mills! Oh, take her to Julia Mills, and go away, please! -So that, in short, I was quite distracted, and raved about the -drawing-room. - -I thought I had killed her, this time. I sprinkled water on her face. -I went down on my knees. I plucked at my hair. I denounced myself as a -remorseless brute and a ruthless beast. I implored her forgiveness. -I besought her to look up. I ravaged Miss Mills's work-box for a -smelling-bottle, and in my agony of mind applied an ivory needle-case -instead, and dropped all the needles over Dora. I shook my fists at Jip, -who was as frantic as myself. I did every wild extravagance that could -be done, and was a long way beyond the end of my wits when Miss Mills -came into the room. - -'Who has done this?' exclaimed Miss Mills, succouring her friend. - -I replied, 'I, Miss Mills! I have done it! Behold the destroyer!'--or -words to that effect--and hid my face from the light, in the sofa -cushion. - -At first Miss Mills thought it was a quarrel, and that we were verging -on the Desert of Sahara; but she soon found out how matters stood, for -my dear affectionate little Dora, embracing her, began exclaiming that I -was 'a poor labourer'; and then cried for me, and embraced me, and asked -me would I let her give me all her money to keep, and then fell on Miss -Mills's neck, sobbing as if her tender heart were broken. - -Miss Mills must have been born to be a blessing to us. She ascertained -from me in a few words what it was all about, comforted Dora, and -gradually convinced her that I was not a labourer--from my manner of -stating the case I believe Dora concluded that I was a navigator, -and went balancing myself up and down a plank all day with a -wheelbarrow--and so brought us together in peace. When we were quite -composed, and Dora had gone up-stairs to put some rose-water to her -eyes, Miss Mills rang for tea. In the ensuing interval, I told Miss -Mills that she was evermore my friend, and that my heart must cease to -vibrate ere I could forget her sympathy. - -I then expounded to Miss Mills what I had endeavoured, so very -unsuccessfully, to expound to Dora. Miss Mills replied, on general -principles, that the Cottage of content was better than the Palace of -cold splendour, and that where love was, all was. - -I said to Miss Mills that this was very true, and who should know -it better than I, who loved Dora with a love that never mortal had -experienced yet? But on Miss Mills observing, with despondency, that -it were well indeed for some hearts if this were so, I explained that -I begged leave to restrict the observation to mortals of the masculine -gender. - -I then put it to Miss Mills, to say whether she considered that there -was or was not any practical merit in the suggestion I had been anxious -to make, concerning the accounts, the housekeeping, and the Cookery -Book? - -Miss Mills, after some consideration, thus replied: - -'Mr. Copperfield, I will be plain with you. Mental suffering and trial -supply, in some natures, the place of years, and I will be as plain with -you as if I were a Lady Abbess. No. The suggestion is not appropriate -to our Dora. Our dearest Dora is a favourite child of nature. She is a -thing of light, and airiness, and joy. I am free to confess that if it -could be done, it might be well, but--' And Miss Mills shook her head. - -I was encouraged by this closing admission on the part of Miss Mills to -ask her, whether, for Dora's sake, if she had any opportunity of luring -her attention to such preparations for an earnest life, she would avail -herself of it? Miss Mills replied in the affirmative so readily, that I -further asked her if she would take charge of the Cookery Book; and, if -she ever could insinuate it upon Dora's acceptance, without frightening -her, undertake to do me that crowning service. Miss Mills accepted this -trust, too; but was not sanguine. - -And Dora returned, looking such a lovely little creature, that I really -doubted whether she ought to be troubled with anything so ordinary. And -she loved me so much, and was so captivating (particularly when she made -Jip stand on his hind legs for toast, and when she pretended to hold -that nose of his against the hot teapot for punishment because he -wouldn't), that I felt like a sort of Monster who had got into a Fairy's -bower, when I thought of having frightened her, and made her cry. - -After tea we had the guitar; and Dora sang those same dear old French -songs about the impossibility of ever on any account leaving off -dancing, La ra la, La ra la, until I felt a much greater Monster than -before. - -We had only one check to our pleasure, and that happened a little while -before I took my leave, when, Miss Mills chancing to make some allusion -to tomorrow morning, I unluckily let out that, being obliged to exert -myself now, I got up at five o'clock. Whether Dora had any idea that -I was a Private Watchman, I am unable to say; but it made a great -impression on her, and she neither played nor sang any more. - -It was still on her mind when I bade her adieu; and she said to me, in -her pretty coaxing way--as if I were a doll, I used to think: - -'Now don't get up at five o'clock, you naughty boy. It's so -nonsensical!' - -'My love,' said I, 'I have work to do.' - -'But don't do it!' returned Dora. 'Why should you?' - -It was impossible to say to that sweet little surprised face, otherwise -than lightly and playfully, that we must work to live. - -'Oh! How ridiculous!' cried Dora. - -'How shall we live without, Dora?' said I. - -'How? Any how!' said Dora. - -She seemed to think she had quite settled the question, and gave me such -a triumphant little kiss, direct from her innocent heart, that I would -hardly have put her out of conceit with her answer, for a fortune. - -Well! I loved her, and I went on loving her, most absorbingly, entirely, -and completely. But going on, too, working pretty hard, and busily -keeping red-hot all the irons I now had in the fire, I would sit -sometimes of a night, opposite my aunt, thinking how I had frightened -Dora that time, and how I could best make my way with a guitar-case -through the forest of difficulty, until I used to fancy that my head was -turning quite grey. - - - -CHAPTER 38. A DISSOLUTION OF PARTNERSHIP - - -I did not allow my resolution, with respect to the Parliamentary -Debates, to cool. It was one of the irons I began to heat immediately, -and one of the irons I kept hot, and hammered at, with a perseverance -I may honestly admire. I bought an approved scheme of the noble art and -mystery of stenography (which cost me ten and sixpence); and plunged -into a sea of perplexity that brought me, in a few weeks, to the -confines of distraction. The changes that were rung upon dots, which -in such a position meant such a thing, and in such another position -something else, entirely different; the wonderful vagaries that were -played by circles; the unaccountable consequences that resulted from -marks like flies' legs; the tremendous effects of a curve in a wrong -place; not only troubled my waking hours, but reappeared before me in -my sleep. When I had groped my way, blindly, through these difficulties, -and had mastered the alphabet, which was an Egyptian Temple in itself, -there then appeared a procession of new horrors, called arbitrary -characters; the most despotic characters I have ever known; who -insisted, for instance, that a thing like the beginning of a cobweb, -meant expectation, and that a pen-and-ink sky-rocket, stood for -disadvantageous. When I had fixed these wretches in my mind, I found -that they had driven everything else out of it; then, beginning again, I -forgot them; while I was picking them up, I dropped the other fragments -of the system; in short, it was almost heart-breaking. - -It might have been quite heart-breaking, but for Dora, who was the stay -and anchor of my tempest-driven bark. Every scratch in the scheme was -a gnarled oak in the forest of difficulty, and I went on cutting them -down, one after another, with such vigour, that in three or four months -I was in a condition to make an experiment on one of our crack speakers -in the Commons. Shall I ever forget how the crack speaker walked off -from me before I began, and left my imbecile pencil staggering about the -paper as if it were in a fit! - -This would not do, it was quite clear. I was flying too high, and should -never get on, so. I resorted to Traddles for advice; who suggested -that he should dictate speeches to me, at a pace, and with occasional -stoppages, adapted to my weakness. Very grateful for this friendly aid, -I accepted the proposal; and night after night, almost every night, for -a long time, we had a sort of Private Parliament in Buckingham Street, -after I came home from the Doctor's. - -I should like to see such a Parliament anywhere else! My aunt and Mr. -Dick represented the Government or the Opposition (as the case might -be), and Traddles, with the assistance of Enfield's Speakers, or a -volume of parliamentary orations, thundered astonishing invectives -against them. Standing by the table, with his finger in the page to keep -the place, and his right arm flourishing above his head, Traddles, as -Mr. Pitt, Mr. Fox, Mr. Sheridan, Mr. Burke, Lord Castlereagh, Viscount -Sidmouth, or Mr. Canning, would work himself into the most violent -heats, and deliver the most withering denunciations of the profligacy -and corruption of my aunt and Mr. Dick; while I used to sit, at a little -distance, with my notebook on my knee, fagging after him with all my -might and main. The inconsistency and recklessness of Traddles were not -to be exceeded by any real politician. He was for any description of -policy, in the compass of a week; and nailed all sorts of colours to -every denomination of mast. My aunt, looking very like an immovable -Chancellor of the Exchequer, would occasionally throw in an interruption -or two, as 'Hear!' or 'No!' or 'Oh!' when the text seemed to require it: -which was always a signal to Mr. Dick (a perfect country gentleman) -to follow lustily with the same cry. But Mr. Dick got taxed with -such things in the course of his Parliamentary career, and was made -responsible for such awful consequences, that he became uncomfortable in -his mind sometimes. I believe he actually began to be afraid he really -had been doing something, tending to the annihilation of the British -constitution, and the ruin of the country. - -Often and often we pursued these debates until the clock pointed to -midnight, and the candles were burning down. The result of so much good -practice was, that by and by I began to keep pace with Traddles pretty -well, and should have been quite triumphant if I had had the least idea -what my notes were about. But, as to reading them after I had got them, -I might as well have copied the Chinese inscriptions of an immense -collection of tea-chests, or the golden characters on all the great red -and green bottles in the chemists' shops! - -There was nothing for it, but to turn back and begin all over again. It -was very hard, but I turned back, though with a heavy heart, and began -laboriously and methodically to plod over the same tedious ground at a -snail's pace; stopping to examine minutely every speck in the way, on -all sides, and making the most desperate efforts to know these elusive -characters by sight wherever I met them. I was always punctual at -the office; at the Doctor's too: and I really did work, as the common -expression is, like a cart-horse. One day, when I went to the Commons as -usual, I found Mr. Spenlow in the doorway looking extremely grave, and -talking to himself. As he was in the habit of complaining of pains in -his head--he had naturally a short throat, and I do seriously believe -he over-starched himself--I was at first alarmed by the idea that he was -not quite right in that direction; but he soon relieved my uneasiness. - -Instead of returning my 'Good morning' with his usual affability, he -looked at me in a distant, ceremonious manner, and coldly requested me -to accompany him to a certain coffee-house, which, in those days, had -a door opening into the Commons, just within the little archway in St. -Paul's Churchyard. I complied, in a very uncomfortable state, and with a -warm shooting all over me, as if my apprehensions were breaking out into -buds. When I allowed him to go on a little before, on account of the -narrowness of the way, I observed that he carried his head with a lofty -air that was particularly unpromising; and my mind misgave me that he -had found out about my darling Dora. - -If I had not guessed this, on the way to the coffee-house, I could -hardly have failed to know what was the matter when I followed him -into an upstairs room, and found Miss Murdstone there, supported by -a background of sideboard, on which were several inverted tumblers -sustaining lemons, and two of those extraordinary boxes, all corners and -flutings, for sticking knives and forks in, which, happily for mankind, -are now obsolete. - -Miss Murdstone gave me her chilly finger-nails, and sat severely rigid. -Mr. Spenlow shut the door, motioned me to a chair, and stood on the -hearth-rug in front of the fireplace. - -'Have the goodness to show Mr. Copperfield,' said Mr. Spenlow, what you -have in your reticule, Miss Murdstone.' - -I believe it was the old identical steel-clasped reticule of my -childhood, that shut up like a bite. Compressing her lips, in sympathy -with the snap, Miss Murdstone opened it--opening her mouth a little -at the same time--and produced my last letter to Dora, teeming with -expressions of devoted affection. - -'I believe that is your writing, Mr. Copperfield?' said Mr. Spenlow. - -I was very hot, and the voice I heard was very unlike mine, when I said, -'It is, sir!' - -'If I am not mistaken,' said Mr. Spenlow, as Miss Murdstone brought a -parcel of letters out of her reticule, tied round with the dearest bit -of blue ribbon, 'those are also from your pen, Mr. Copperfield?' - -I took them from her with a most desolate sensation; and, glancing at -such phrases at the top, as 'My ever dearest and own Dora,' 'My best -beloved angel,' 'My blessed one for ever,' and the like, blushed deeply, -and inclined my head. - -'No, thank you!' said Mr. Spenlow, coldly, as I mechanically offered -them back to him. 'I will not deprive you of them. Miss Murdstone, be so -good as to proceed!' - -That gentle creature, after a moment's thoughtful survey of the carpet, -delivered herself with much dry unction as follows. - -'I must confess to having entertained my suspicions of Miss Spenlow, in -reference to David Copperfield, for some time. I observed Miss Spenlow -and David Copperfield, when they first met; and the impression made upon -me then was not agreeable. The depravity of the human heart is such--' - -'You will oblige me, ma'am,' interrupted Mr. Spenlow, 'by confining -yourself to facts.' - -Miss Murdstone cast down her eyes, shook her head as if protesting -against this unseemly interruption, and with frowning dignity resumed: - -'Since I am to confine myself to facts, I will state them as dryly as I -can. Perhaps that will be considered an acceptable course of proceeding. -I have already said, sir, that I have had my suspicions of Miss Spenlow, -in reference to David Copperfield, for some time. I have frequently -endeavoured to find decisive corroboration of those suspicions, but -without effect. I have therefore forborne to mention them to Miss -Spenlow's father'; looking severely at him--'knowing how little -disposition there usually is in such cases, to acknowledge the -conscientious discharge of duty.' - -Mr. Spenlow seemed quite cowed by the gentlemanly sternness of Miss -Murdstone's manner, and deprecated her severity with a conciliatory -little wave of his hand. - -'On my return to Norwood, after the period of absence occasioned by my -brother's marriage,' pursued Miss Murdstone in a disdainful voice, 'and -on the return of Miss Spenlow from her visit to her friend Miss Mills, -I imagined that the manner of Miss Spenlow gave me greater occasion for -suspicion than before. Therefore I watched Miss Spenlow closely.' - -Dear, tender little Dora, so unconscious of this Dragon's eye! - -'Still,' resumed Miss Murdstone, 'I found no proof until last night. -It appeared to me that Miss Spenlow received too many letters from her -friend Miss Mills; but Miss Mills being her friend with her father's -full concurrence,' another telling blow at Mr. Spenlow, 'it was not -for me to interfere. If I may not be permitted to allude to the natural -depravity of the human heart, at least I may--I must--be permitted, so -far to refer to misplaced confidence.' - -Mr. Spenlow apologetically murmured his assent. - -'Last evening after tea,' pursued Miss Murdstone, 'I observed the little -dog starting, rolling, and growling about the drawing-room, worrying -something. I said to Miss Spenlow, "Dora, what is that the dog has in -his mouth? It's paper." Miss Spenlow immediately put her hand to her -frock, gave a sudden cry, and ran to the dog. I interposed, and said, -"Dora, my love, you must permit me."' - -Oh Jip, miserable Spaniel, this wretchedness, then, was your work! - -'Miss Spenlow endeavoured,' said Miss Murdstone, 'to bribe me with -kisses, work-boxes, and small articles of jewellery--that, of course, -I pass over. The little dog retreated under the sofa on my approaching -him, and was with great difficulty dislodged by the fire-irons. Even -when dislodged, he still kept the letter in his mouth; and on my -endeavouring to take it from him, at the imminent risk of being bitten, -he kept it between his teeth so pertinaciously as to suffer himself -to be held suspended in the air by means of the document. At length I -obtained possession of it. After perusing it, I taxed Miss Spenlow with -having many such letters in her possession; and ultimately obtained from -her the packet which is now in David Copperfield's hand.' - -Here she ceased; and snapping her reticule again, and shutting her -mouth, looked as if she might be broken, but could never be bent. - -'You have heard Miss Murdstone,' said Mr. Spenlow, turning to me. 'I beg -to ask, Mr. Copperfield, if you have anything to say in reply?' - -The picture I had before me, of the beautiful little treasure of my -heart, sobbing and crying all night--of her being alone, frightened, -and wretched, then--of her having so piteously begged and prayed that -stony-hearted woman to forgive her--of her having vainly offered her -those kisses, work-boxes, and trinkets--of her being in such grievous -distress, and all for me--very much impaired the little dignity I had -been able to muster. I am afraid I was in a tremulous state for a minute -or so, though I did my best to disguise it. - -'There is nothing I can say, sir,' I returned, 'except that all the -blame is mine. Dora--' - -'Miss Spenlow, if you please,' said her father, majestically. - -'--was induced and persuaded by me,' I went on, swallowing that colder -designation, 'to consent to this concealment, and I bitterly regret it.' - -'You are very much to blame, sir,' said Mr. Spenlow, walking to and fro -upon the hearth-rug, and emphasizing what he said with his whole body -instead of his head, on account of the stiffness of his cravat and -spine. 'You have done a stealthy and unbecoming action, Mr. Copperfield. -When I take a gentleman to my house, no matter whether he is nineteen, -twenty-nine, or ninety, I take him there in a spirit of confidence. -If he abuses my confidence, he commits a dishonourable action, Mr. -Copperfield.' - -'I feel it, sir, I assure you,' I returned. 'But I never thought so, -before. Sincerely, honestly, indeed, Mr. Spenlow, I never thought so, -before. I love Miss Spenlow to that extent--' - -'Pooh! nonsense!' said Mr. Spenlow, reddening. 'Pray don't tell me to my -face that you love my daughter, Mr. Copperfield!' - -'Could I defend my conduct if I did not, sir?' I returned, with all -humility. - -'Can you defend your conduct if you do, sir?' said Mr. Spenlow, stopping -short upon the hearth-rug. 'Have you considered your years, and my -daughter's years, Mr. Copperfield? Have you considered what it is to -undermine the confidence that should subsist between my daughter and -myself? Have you considered my daughter's station in life, the projects -I may contemplate for her advancement, the testamentary intentions I -may have with reference to her? Have you considered anything, Mr. -Copperfield?' - -'Very little, sir, I am afraid;' I answered, speaking to him as -respectfully and sorrowfully as I felt; 'but pray believe me, I have -considered my own worldly position. When I explained it to you, we were -already engaged--' - -'I BEG,' said Mr. Spenlow, more like Punch than I had ever seen him, -as he energetically struck one hand upon the other--I could not help -noticing that even in my despair; 'that YOU Will NOT talk to me of -engagements, Mr. Copperfield!' - -The otherwise immovable Miss Murdstone laughed contemptuously in one -short syllable. - -'When I explained my altered position to you, sir,' I began again, -substituting a new form of expression for what was so unpalatable to -him, 'this concealment, into which I am so unhappy as to have led Miss -Spenlow, had begun. Since I have been in that altered position, I have -strained every nerve, I have exerted every energy, to improve it. I am -sure I shall improve it in time. Will you grant me time--any length of -time? We are both so young, sir,--' - -'You are right,' interrupted Mr. Spenlow, nodding his head a great -many times, and frowning very much, 'you are both very young. It's all -nonsense. Let there be an end of the nonsense. Take away those letters, -and throw them in the fire. Give me Miss Spenlow's letters to throw in -the fire; and although our future intercourse must, you are aware, be -restricted to the Commons here, we will agree to make no further mention -of the past. Come, Mr. Copperfield, you don't want sense; and this is -the sensible course.' - -No. I couldn't think of agreeing to it. I was very sorry, but there -was a higher consideration than sense. Love was above all earthly -considerations, and I loved Dora to idolatry, and Dora loved me. I -didn't exactly say so; I softened it down as much as I could; but I -implied it, and I was resolute upon it. I don't think I made myself very -ridiculous, but I know I was resolute. - -'Very well, Mr. Copperfield,' said Mr. Spenlow, 'I must try my influence -with my daughter.' - -Miss Murdstone, by an expressive sound, a long drawn respiration, which -was neither a sigh nor a moan, but was like both, gave it as her opinion -that he should have done this at first. - -'I must try,' said Mr. Spenlow, confirmed by this support, 'my -influence with my daughter. Do you decline to take those letters, Mr. -Copperfield?' For I had laid them on the table. - -Yes. I told him I hoped he would not think it wrong, but I couldn't -possibly take them from Miss Murdstone. - -'Nor from me?' said Mr. Spenlow. - -No, I replied with the profoundest respect; nor from him. - -'Very well!' said Mr. Spenlow. - -A silence succeeding, I was undecided whether to go or stay. At length -I was moving quietly towards the door, with the intention of saying that -perhaps I should consult his feelings best by withdrawing: when he said, -with his hands in his coat pockets, into which it was as much as he -could do to get them; and with what I should call, upon the whole, a -decidedly pious air: - -'You are probably aware, Mr. Copperfield, that I am not altogether -destitute of worldly possessions, and that my daughter is my nearest and -dearest relative?' - -I hurriedly made him a reply to the effect, that I hoped the error into -which I had been betrayed by the desperate nature of my love, did not -induce him to think me mercenary too? - -'I don't allude to the matter in that light,' said Mr. Spenlow. 'It -would be better for yourself, and all of us, if you WERE mercenary, Mr. -Copperfield--I mean, if you were more discreet and less influenced by -all this youthful nonsense. No. I merely say, with quite another view, -you are probably aware I have some property to bequeath to my child?' - -I certainly supposed so. - -'And you can hardly think,' said Mr. Spenlow, 'having experience of what -we see, in the Commons here, every day, of the various unaccountable -and negligent proceedings of men, in respect of their testamentary -arrangements--of all subjects, the one on which perhaps the strangest -revelations of human inconsistency are to be met with--but that mine are -made?' - -I inclined my head in acquiescence. - -'I should not allow,' said Mr. Spenlow, with an evident increase of -pious sentiment, and slowly shaking his head as he poised himself upon -his toes and heels alternately, 'my suitable provision for my child to -be influenced by a piece of youthful folly like the present. It is mere -folly. Mere nonsense. In a little while, it will weigh lighter than -any feather. But I might--I might--if this silly business were not -completely relinquished altogether, be induced in some anxious moment -to guard her from, and surround her with protections against, the -consequences of any foolish step in the way of marriage. Now, Mr. -Copperfield, I hope that you will not render it necessary for me to -open, even for a quarter of an hour, that closed page in the book of -life, and unsettle, even for a quarter of an hour, grave affairs long -since composed.' - -There was a serenity, a tranquillity, a calm sunset air about him, which -quite affected me. He was so peaceful and resigned--clearly had his -affairs in such perfect train, and so systematically wound up--that he -was a man to feel touched in the contemplation of. I really think I saw -tears rise to his eyes, from the depth of his own feeling of all this. - -But what could I do? I could not deny Dora and my own heart. When he -told me I had better take a week to consider of what he had said, how -could I say I wouldn't take a week, yet how could I fail to know that no -amount of weeks could influence such love as mine? - -'In the meantime, confer with Miss Trotwood, or with any person with -any knowledge of life,' said Mr. Spenlow, adjusting his cravat with both -hands. 'Take a week, Mr. Copperfield.' - -I submitted; and, with a countenance as expressive as I was able to -make it of dejected and despairing constancy, came out of the room. Miss -Murdstone's heavy eyebrows followed me to the door--I say her eyebrows -rather than her eyes, because they were much more important in her -face--and she looked so exactly as she used to look, at about that -hour of the morning, in our parlour at Blunderstone, that I could have -fancied I had been breaking down in my lessons again, and that the -dead weight on my mind was that horrible old spelling-book, with -oval woodcuts, shaped, to my youthful fancy, like the glasses out of -spectacles. - -When I got to the office, and, shutting out old Tiffey and the rest of -them with my hands, sat at my desk, in my own particular nook, thinking -of this earthquake that had taken place so unexpectedly, and in the -bitterness of my spirit cursing Jip, I fell into such a state of torment -about Dora, that I wonder I did not take up my hat and rush insanely to -Norwood. The idea of their frightening her, and making her cry, and of -my not being there to comfort her, was so excruciating, that it impelled -me to write a wild letter to Mr. Spenlow, beseeching him not to visit -upon her the consequences of my awful destiny. I implored him to spare -her gentle nature--not to crush a fragile flower--and addressed him -generally, to the best of my remembrance, as if, instead of being her -father, he had been an Ogre, or the Dragon of Wantley. This letter I -sealed and laid upon his desk before he returned; and when he came in, -I saw him, through the half-opened door of his room, take it up and read -it. - -He said nothing about it all the morning; but before he went away in the -afternoon he called me in, and told me that I need not make myself at -all uneasy about his daughter's happiness. He had assured her, he said, -that it was all nonsense; and he had nothing more to say to her. He -believed he was an indulgent father (as indeed he was), and I might -spare myself any solicitude on her account. - -'You may make it necessary, if you are foolish or obstinate, Mr. -Copperfield,' he observed, 'for me to send my daughter abroad again, -for a term; but I have a better opinion of you. I hope you will be wiser -than that, in a few days. As to Miss Murdstone,' for I had alluded to -her in the letter, 'I respect that lady's vigilance, and feel obliged to -her; but she has strict charge to avoid the subject. All I desire, Mr. -Copperfield, is, that it should be forgotten. All you have got to do, -Mr. Copperfield, is to forget it.' - -All! In the note I wrote to Miss Mills, I bitterly quoted this -sentiment. All I had to do, I said, with gloomy sarcasm, was to forget -Dora. That was all, and what was that! I entreated Miss Mills to see -me, that evening. If it could not be done with Mr. Mills's sanction -and concurrence, I besought a clandestine interview in the back kitchen -where the Mangle was. I informed her that my reason was tottering on -its throne, and only she, Miss Mills, could prevent its being deposed. -I signed myself, hers distractedly; and I couldn't help feeling, while -I read this composition over, before sending it by a porter, that it was -something in the style of Mr. Micawber. - -However, I sent it. At night I repaired to Miss Mills's street, and -walked up and down, until I was stealthily fetched in by Miss Mills's -maid, and taken the area way to the back kitchen. I have since seen -reason to believe that there was nothing on earth to prevent my going in -at the front door, and being shown up into the drawing-room, except Miss -Mills's love of the romantic and mysterious. - -In the back kitchen, I raved as became me. I went there, I suppose, -to make a fool of myself, and I am quite sure I did it. Miss Mills had -received a hasty note from Dora, telling her that all was discovered, -and saying. 'Oh pray come to me, Julia, do, do!' But Miss Mills, -mistrusting the acceptability of her presence to the higher powers, had -not yet gone; and we were all benighted in the Desert of Sahara. - -Miss Mills had a wonderful flow of words, and liked to pour them out. I -could not help feeling, though she mingled her tears with mine, that she -had a dreadful luxury in our afflictions. She petted them, as I may say, -and made the most of them. A deep gulf, she observed, had opened between -Dora and me, and Love could only span it with its rainbow. Love must -suffer in this stern world; it ever had been so, it ever would be so. No -matter, Miss Mills remarked. Hearts confined by cobwebs would burst at -last, and then Love was avenged. - -This was small consolation, but Miss Mills wouldn't encourage fallacious -hopes. She made me much more wretched than I was before, and I felt (and -told her with the deepest gratitude) that she was indeed a friend. We -resolved that she should go to Dora the first thing in the morning, -and find some means of assuring her, either by looks or words, of my -devotion and misery. We parted, overwhelmed with grief; and I think Miss -Mills enjoyed herself completely. - -I confided all to my aunt when I got home; and in spite of all she could -say to me, went to bed despairing. I got up despairing, and went out -despairing. It was Saturday morning, and I went straight to the Commons. - -I was surprised, when I came within sight of our office-door, to see the -ticket-porters standing outside talking together, and some half-dozen -stragglers gazing at the windows which were shut up. I quickened my -pace, and, passing among them, wondering at their looks, went hurriedly -in. - -The clerks were there, but nobody was doing anything. Old Tiffey, for -the first time in his life I should think, was sitting on somebody -else's stool, and had not hung up his hat. - -'This is a dreadful calamity, Mr. Copperfield,' said he, as I entered. - -'What is?' I exclaimed. 'What's the matter?' - -'Don't you know?' cried Tiffey, and all the rest of them, coming round -me. - -'No!' said I, looking from face to face. - -'Mr. Spenlow,' said Tiffey. - -'What about him!' - -'Dead!' I thought it was the office reeling, and not I, as one of -the clerks caught hold of me. They sat me down in a chair, untied my -neck-cloth, and brought me some water. I have no idea whether this took -any time. - -'Dead?' said I. - -'He dined in town yesterday, and drove down in the phaeton by himself,' -said Tiffey, 'having sent his own groom home by the coach, as he -sometimes did, you know--' - -'Well?' - -'The phaeton went home without him. The horses stopped at the -stable-gate. The man went out with a lantern. Nobody in the carriage.' - -'Had they run away?' - -'They were not hot,' said Tiffey, putting on his glasses; 'no hotter, I -understand, than they would have been, going down at the usual pace. The -reins were broken, but they had been dragging on the ground. The house -was roused up directly, and three of them went out along the road. They -found him a mile off.' - -'More than a mile off, Mr. Tiffey,' interposed a junior. - -'Was it? I believe you are right,' said Tiffey,--'more than a mile -off--not far from the church--lying partly on the roadside, and partly -on the path, upon his face. Whether he fell out in a fit, or got out, -feeling ill before the fit came on--or even whether he was quite dead -then, though there is no doubt he was quite insensible--no one appears -to know. If he breathed, certainly he never spoke. Medical assistance -was got as soon as possible, but it was quite useless.' - -I cannot describe the state of mind into which I was thrown by this -intelligence. The shock of such an event happening so suddenly, and -happening to one with whom I had been in any respect at variance--the -appalling vacancy in the room he had occupied so lately, where his chair -and table seemed to wait for him, and his handwriting of yesterday was -like a ghost--the indefinable impossibility of separating him from the -place, and feeling, when the door opened, as if he might come in--the -lazy hush and rest there was in the office, and the insatiable relish -with which our people talked about it, and other people came in and -out all day, and gorged themselves with the subject--this is easily -intelligible to anyone. What I cannot describe is, how, in the innermost -recesses of my own heart, I had a lurking jealousy even of Death. How -I felt as if its might would push me from my ground in Dora's thoughts. -How I was, in a grudging way I have no words for, envious of her grief. -How it made me restless to think of her weeping to others, or being -consoled by others. How I had a grasping, avaricious wish to shut out -everybody from her but myself, and to be all in all to her, at that -unseasonable time of all times. - -In the trouble of this state of mind--not exclusively my own, I hope, -but known to others--I went down to Norwood that night; and finding from -one of the servants, when I made my inquiries at the door, that Miss -Mills was there, got my aunt to direct a letter to her, which I wrote. -I deplored the untimely death of Mr. Spenlow, most sincerely, and shed -tears in doing so. I entreated her to tell Dora, if Dora were in a -state to hear it, that he had spoken to me with the utmost kindness and -consideration; and had coupled nothing but tenderness, not a single or -reproachful word, with her name. I know I did this selfishly, to have my -name brought before her; but I tried to believe it was an act of justice -to his memory. Perhaps I did believe it. - -My aunt received a few lines next day in reply; addressed, outside, to -her; within, to me. Dora was overcome by grief; and when her friend had -asked her should she send her love to me, had only cried, as she was -always crying, 'Oh, dear papa! oh, poor papa!' But she had not said No, -and that I made the most of. - -Mr. Jorkins, who had been at Norwood since the occurrence, came to the -office a few days afterwards. He and Tiffey were closeted together for -some few moments, and then Tiffey looked out at the door and beckoned me -in. - -'Oh!' said Mr. Jorkins. 'Mr. Tiffey and myself, Mr. Copperfield, are -about to examine the desks, the drawers, and other such repositories -of the deceased, with the view of sealing up his private papers, and -searching for a Will. There is no trace of any, elsewhere. It may be as -well for you to assist us, if you please.' - -I had been in agony to obtain some knowledge of the circumstances -in which my Dora would be placed--as, in whose guardianship, and so -forth--and this was something towards it. We began the search at once; -Mr. Jorkins unlocking the drawers and desks, and we all taking out the -papers. The office-papers we placed on one side, and the private papers -(which were not numerous) on the other. We were very grave; and when we -came to a stray seal, or pencil-case, or ring, or any little article of -that kind which we associated personally with him, we spoke very low. - -We had sealed up several packets; and were still going on dustily and -quietly, when Mr. Jorkins said to us, applying exactly the same words to -his late partner as his late partner had applied to him: - -'Mr. Spenlow was very difficult to move from the beaten track. You know -what he was! I am disposed to think he had made no will.' - -'Oh, I know he had!' said I. - -They both stopped and looked at me. 'On the very day when I last saw -him,' said I, 'he told me that he had, and that his affairs were long -since settled.' - -Mr. Jorkins and old Tiffey shook their heads with one accord. - -'That looks unpromising,' said Tiffey. - -'Very unpromising,' said Mr. Jorkins. - -'Surely you don't doubt--' I began. - -'My good Mr. Copperfield!' said Tiffey, laying his hand upon my arm, and -shutting up both his eyes as he shook his head: 'if you had been in the -Commons as long as I have, you would know that there is no subject on -which men are so inconsistent, and so little to be trusted.' - -'Why, bless my soul, he made that very remark!' I replied persistently. - -'I should call that almost final,' observed Tiffey. 'My opinion is--no -will.' - -It appeared a wonderful thing to me, but it turned out that there was -no will. He had never so much as thought of making one, so far as his -papers afforded any evidence; for there was no kind of hint, sketch, or -memorandum, of any testamentary intention whatever. What was scarcely -less astonishing to me, was, that his affairs were in a most disordered -state. It was extremely difficult, I heard, to make out what he owed, or -what he had paid, or of what he died possessed. It was considered likely -that for years he could have had no clear opinion on these subjects -himself. By little and little it came out, that, in the competition on -all points of appearance and gentility then running high in the Commons, -he had spent more than his professional income, which was not a very -large one, and had reduced his private means, if they ever had been -great (which was exceedingly doubtful), to a very low ebb indeed. There -was a sale of the furniture and lease, at Norwood; and Tiffey told me, -little thinking how interested I was in the story, that, paying all the -just debts of the deceased, and deducting his share of outstanding bad -and doubtful debts due to the firm, he wouldn't give a thousand pounds -for all the assets remaining. - -This was at the expiration of about six weeks. I had suffered tortures -all the time; and thought I really must have laid violent hands upon -myself, when Miss Mills still reported to me, that my broken-hearted -little Dora would say nothing, when I was mentioned, but 'Oh, poor papa! -Oh, dear papa!' Also, that she had no other relations than two aunts, -maiden sisters of Mr. Spenlow, who lived at Putney, and who had not held -any other than chance communication with their brother for many years. -Not that they had ever quarrelled (Miss Mills informed me); but that -having been, on the occasion of Dora's christening, invited to tea, when -they considered themselves privileged to be invited to dinner, they -had expressed their opinion in writing, that it was 'better for the -happiness of all parties' that they should stay away. Since which they -had gone their road, and their brother had gone his. - -These two ladies now emerged from their retirement, and proposed to -take Dora to live at Putney. Dora, clinging to them both, and weeping, -exclaimed, 'O yes, aunts! Please take Julia Mills and me and Jip to -Putney!' So they went, very soon after the funeral. - -How I found time to haunt Putney, I am sure I don't know; but I -contrived, by some means or other, to prowl about the neighbourhood -pretty often. Miss Mills, for the more exact discharge of the duties of -friendship, kept a journal; and she used to meet me sometimes, on the -Common, and read it, or (if she had not time to do that) lend it to me. -How I treasured up the entries, of which I subjoin a sample--! - -'Monday. My sweet D. still much depressed. Headache. Called attention to -J. as being beautifully sleek. D. fondled J. Associations thus awakened, -opened floodgates of sorrow. Rush of grief admitted. (Are tears the -dewdrops of the heart? J. M.) - -'Tuesday. D. weak and nervous. Beautiful in pallor. (Do we not remark -this in moon likewise? J. M.) D., J. M. and J. took airing in carriage. -J. looking out of window, and barking violently at dustman, occasioned -smile to overspread features of D. (Of such slight links is chain of -life composed! J. M.) - -'Wednesday. D. comparatively cheerful. Sang to her, as congenial melody, -"Evening Bells". Effect not soothing, but reverse. D. inexpressibly -affected. Found sobbing afterwards, in own room. Quoted verses -respecting self and young Gazelle. Ineffectually. Also referred to -Patience on Monument. (Qy. Why on monument? J. M.) - -'Thursday. D. certainly improved. Better night. Slight tinge of damask -revisiting cheek. Resolved to mention name of D. C. Introduced same, -cautiously, in course of airing. D. immediately overcome. "Oh, dear, -dear Julia! Oh, I have been a naughty and undutiful child!" Soothed -and caressed. Drew ideal picture of D. C. on verge of tomb. D. again -overcome. "Oh, what shall I do, what shall I do? Oh, take me somewhere!" -Much alarmed. Fainting of D. and glass of water from public-house. -(Poetical affinity. Chequered sign on door-post; chequered human life. -Alas! J. M.) - -'Friday. Day of incident. Man appears in kitchen, with blue bag, "for -lady's boots left out to heel". Cook replies, "No such orders." Man -argues point. Cook withdraws to inquire, leaving man alone with J. On -Cook's return, man still argues point, but ultimately goes. J. missing. -D. distracted. Information sent to police. Man to be identified by -broad nose, and legs like balustrades of bridge. Search made in -every direction. No J. D. weeping bitterly, and inconsolable. Renewed -reference to young Gazelle. Appropriate, but unavailing. Towards -evening, strange boy calls. Brought into parlour. Broad nose, but no -balustrades. Says he wants a pound, and knows a dog. Declines to explain -further, though much pressed. Pound being produced by D. takes Cook -to little house, where J. alone tied up to leg of table. Joy of D. -who dances round J. while he eats his supper. Emboldened by this happy -change, mention D. C. upstairs. D. weeps afresh, cries piteously, "Oh, -don't, don't, don't! It is so wicked to think of anything but poor -papa!"--embraces J. and sobs herself to sleep. (Must not D. C. confine -himself to the broad pinions of Time? J. M.)' - -Miss Mills and her journal were my sole consolation at this period. -To see her, who had seen Dora but a little while before--to trace the -initial letter of Dora's name through her sympathetic pages--to be made -more and more miserable by her--were my only comforts. I felt as if I -had been living in a palace of cards, which had tumbled down, leaving -only Miss Mills and me among the ruins; I felt as if some grim enchanter -had drawn a magic circle round the innocent goddess of my heart, which -nothing indeed but those same strong pinions, capable of carrying so -many people over so much, would enable me to enter! - - - -CHAPTER 39. WICKFIELD AND HEEP - - -My aunt, beginning, I imagine, to be made seriously uncomfortable by my -prolonged dejection, made a pretence of being anxious that I should go -to Dover, to see that all was working well at the cottage, which was -let; and to conclude an agreement, with the same tenant, for a longer -term of occupation. Janet was drafted into the service of Mrs. Strong, -where I saw her every day. She had been undecided, on leaving Dover, -whether or no to give the finishing touch to that renunciation of -mankind in which she had been educated, by marrying a pilot; but she -decided against that venture. Not so much for the sake of principle, I -believe, as because she happened not to like him. - -Although it required an effort to leave Miss Mills, I fell rather -willingly into my aunt's pretence, as a means of enabling me to pass a -few tranquil hours with Agnes. I consulted the good Doctor relative -to an absence of three days; and the Doctor wishing me to take that -relaxation,--he wished me to take more; but my energy could not bear -that,--I made up my mind to go. - -As to the Commons, I had no great occasion to be particular about my -duties in that quarter. To say the truth, we were getting in no very -good odour among the tip-top proctors, and were rapidly sliding down -to but a doubtful position. The business had been indifferent under Mr. -Jorkins, before Mr. Spenlow's time; and although it had been quickened -by the infusion of new blood, and by the display which Mr. Spenlow made, -still it was not established on a sufficiently strong basis to bear, -without being shaken, such a blow as the sudden loss of its active -manager. It fell off very much. Mr. Jorkins, notwithstanding his -reputation in the firm, was an easy-going, incapable sort of man, whose -reputation out of doors was not calculated to back it up. I was turned -over to him now, and when I saw him take his snuff and let the business -go, I regretted my aunt's thousand pounds more than ever. - -But this was not the worst of it. There were a number of hangers-on and -outsiders about the Commons, who, without being proctors themselves, -dabbled in common-form business, and got it done by real proctors, who -lent their names in consideration of a share in the spoil;--and there -were a good many of these too. As our house now wanted business on any -terms, we joined this noble band; and threw out lures to the hangers-on -and outsiders, to bring their business to us. Marriage licences and -small probates were what we all looked for, and what paid us best; -and the competition for these ran very high indeed. Kidnappers and -inveiglers were planted in all the avenues of entrance to the Commons, -with instructions to do their utmost to cut off all persons in mourning, -and all gentlemen with anything bashful in their appearance, and entice -them to the offices in which their respective employers were interested; -which instructions were so well observed, that I myself, before I was -known by sight, was twice hustled into the premises of our principal -opponent. The conflicting interests of these touting gentlemen being of -a nature to irritate their feelings, personal collisions took place; -and the Commons was even scandalized by our principal inveigler (who -had formerly been in the wine trade, and afterwards in the sworn brokery -line) walking about for some days with a black eye. Any one of these -scouts used to think nothing of politely assisting an old lady in -black out of a vehicle, killing any proctor whom she inquired for, -representing his employer as the lawful successor and representative of -that proctor, and bearing the old lady off (sometimes greatly affected) -to his employer's office. Many captives were brought to me in this way. -As to marriage licences, the competition rose to such a pitch, that a -shy gentleman in want of one, had nothing to do but submit himself -to the first inveigler, or be fought for, and become the prey of the -strongest. One of our clerks, who was an outsider, used, in the height -of this contest, to sit with his hat on, that he might be ready to rush -out and swear before a surrogate any victim who was brought in. The -system of inveigling continues, I believe, to this day. The last time I -was in the Commons, a civil able-bodied person in a white apron pounced -out upon me from a doorway, and whispering the word 'Marriage-licence' -in my ear, was with great difficulty prevented from taking me up in -his arms and lifting me into a proctor's. From this digression, let me -proceed to Dover. - -I found everything in a satisfactory state at the cottage; and was -enabled to gratify my aunt exceedingly by reporting that the tenant -inherited her feud, and waged incessant war against donkeys. Having -settled the little business I had to transact there, and slept there one -night, I walked on to Canterbury early in the morning. It was now -winter again; and the fresh, cold windy day, and the sweeping downland, -brightened up my hopes a little. - -Coming into Canterbury, I loitered through the old streets with a sober -pleasure that calmed my spirits, and eased my heart. There were the old -signs, the old names over the shops, the old people serving in them. It -appeared so long, since I had been a schoolboy there, that I wondered -the place was so little changed, until I reflected how little I -was changed myself. Strange to say, that quiet influence which was -inseparable in my mind from Agnes, seemed to pervade even the city where -she dwelt. The venerable cathedral towers, and the old jackdaws and -rooks whose airy voices made them more retired than perfect silence -would have done; the battered gateways, one stuck full with statues, -long thrown down, and crumbled away, like the reverential pilgrims -who had gazed upon them; the still nooks, where the ivied growth of -centuries crept over gabled ends and ruined walls; the ancient houses, -the pastoral landscape of field, orchard, and garden; everywhere--on -everything--I felt the same serener air, the same calm, thoughtful, -softening spirit. - -Arrived at Mr. Wickfield's house, I found, in the little lower room on -the ground floor, where Uriah Heep had been of old accustomed to sit, -Mr. Micawber plying his pen with great assiduity. He was dressed in a -legal-looking suit of black, and loomed, burly and large, in that small -office. - -Mr. Micawber was extremely glad to see me, but a little confused too. -He would have conducted me immediately into the presence of Uriah, but I -declined. - -'I know the house of old, you recollect,' said I, 'and will find my way -upstairs. How do you like the law, Mr. Micawber?' - -'My dear Copperfield,' he replied. 'To a man possessed of the higher -imaginative powers, the objection to legal studies is the amount of -detail which they involve. Even in our professional correspondence,' -said Mr. Micawber, glancing at some letters he was writing, 'the mind is -not at liberty to soar to any exalted form of expression. Still, it is a -great pursuit. A great pursuit!' - -He then told me that he had become the tenant of Uriah Heep's old house; -and that Mrs. Micawber would be delighted to receive me, once more, -under her own roof. - -'It is humble,' said Mr. Micawber, '--to quote a favourite expression -of my friend Heep; but it may prove the stepping-stone to more ambitious -domiciliary accommodation.' - -I asked him whether he had reason, so far, to be satisfied with his -friend Heep's treatment of him? He got up to ascertain if the door were -close shut, before he replied, in a lower voice: - -'My dear Copperfield, a man who labours under the pressure of pecuniary -embarrassments, is, with the generality of people, at a disadvantage. -That disadvantage is not diminished, when that pressure necessitates the -drawing of stipendiary emoluments, before those emoluments are strictly -due and payable. All I can say is, that my friend Heep has responded -to appeals to which I need not more particularly refer, in a manner -calculated to redound equally to the honour of his head, and of his -heart.' - -'I should not have supposed him to be very free with his money either,' -I observed. - -'Pardon me!' said Mr. Micawber, with an air of constraint, 'I speak of -my friend Heep as I have experience.' - -'I am glad your experience is so favourable,' I returned. - -'You are very obliging, my dear Copperfield,' said Mr. Micawber; and -hummed a tune. - -'Do you see much of Mr. Wickfield?' I asked, to change the subject. - -'Not much,' said Mr. Micawber, slightingly. 'Mr. Wickfield is, I dare -say, a man of very excellent intentions; but he is--in short, he is -obsolete.' - -'I am afraid his partner seeks to make him so,' said I. - -'My dear Copperfield!' returned Mr. Micawber, after some uneasy -evolutions on his stool, 'allow me to offer a remark! I am here, in -a capacity of confidence. I am here, in a position of trust. The -discussion of some topics, even with Mrs. Micawber herself (so long the -partner of my various vicissitudes, and a woman of a remarkable lucidity -of intellect), is, I am led to consider, incompatible with the functions -now devolving on me. I would therefore take the liberty of suggesting -that in our friendly intercourse--which I trust will never be -disturbed!--we draw a line. On one side of this line,' said Mr. -Micawber, representing it on the desk with the office ruler, 'is the -whole range of the human intellect, with a trifling exception; on -the other, IS that exception; that is to say, the affairs of Messrs -Wickfield and Heep, with all belonging and appertaining thereunto. I -trust I give no offence to the companion of my youth, in submitting this -proposition to his cooler judgement?' - -Though I saw an uneasy change in Mr. Micawber, which sat tightly on -him, as if his new duties were a misfit, I felt I had no right to be -offended. My telling him so, appeared to relieve him; and he shook hands -with me. - -'I am charmed, Copperfield,' said Mr. Micawber, 'let me assure you, with -Miss Wickfield. She is a very superior young lady, of very remarkable -attractions, graces, and virtues. Upon my honour,' said Mr. Micawber, -indefinitely kissing his hand and bowing with his genteelest air, 'I do -Homage to Miss Wickfield! Hem!' 'I am glad of that, at least,' said I. - -'If you had not assured us, my dear Copperfield, on the occasion of that -agreeable afternoon we had the happiness of passing with you, that D. -was your favourite letter,' said Mr. Micawber, 'I should unquestionably -have supposed that A. had been so.' - -We have all some experience of a feeling, that comes over us -occasionally, of what we are saying and doing having been said and done -before, in a remote time--of our having been surrounded, dim ages ago, -by the same faces, objects, and circumstances--of our knowing perfectly -what will be said next, as if we suddenly remembered it! I never had -this mysterious impression more strongly in my life, than before he -uttered those words. - -I took my leave of Mr. Micawber, for the time, charging him with my best -remembrances to all at home. As I left him, resuming his stool and his -pen, and rolling his head in his stock, to get it into easier writing -order, I clearly perceived that there was something interposed between -him and me, since he had come into his new functions, which prevented -our getting at each other as we used to do, and quite altered the -character of our intercourse. - -There was no one in the quaint old drawing-room, though it presented -tokens of Mrs. Heep's whereabouts. I looked into the room still -belonging to Agnes, and saw her sitting by the fire, at a pretty -old-fashioned desk she had, writing. - -My darkening the light made her look up. What a pleasure to be the cause -of that bright change in her attentive face, and the object of that -sweet regard and welcome! - -'Ah, Agnes!' said I, when we were sitting together, side by side; 'I -have missed you so much, lately!' - -'Indeed?' she replied. 'Again! And so soon?' - -I shook my head. - -'I don't know how it is, Agnes; I seem to want some faculty of mind that -I ought to have. You were so much in the habit of thinking for me, in -the happy old days here, and I came so naturally to you for counsel and -support, that I really think I have missed acquiring it.' - -'And what is it?' said Agnes, cheerfully. - -'I don't know what to call it,' I replied. 'I think I am earnest and -persevering?' - -'I am sure of it,' said Agnes. - -'And patient, Agnes?' I inquired, with a little hesitation. - -'Yes,' returned Agnes, laughing. 'Pretty well.' - -'And yet,' said I, 'I get so miserable and worried, and am so unsteady -and irresolute in my power of assuring myself, that I know I must -want--shall I call it--reliance, of some kind?' - -'Call it so, if you will,' said Agnes. - -'Well!' I returned. 'See here! You come to London, I rely on you, and I -have an object and a course at once. I am driven out of it, I come -here, and in a moment I feel an altered person. The circumstances that -distressed me are not changed, since I came into this room; but an -influence comes over me in that short interval that alters me, oh, how -much for the better! What is it? What is your secret, Agnes?' - -Her head was bent down, looking at the fire. - -'It's the old story,' said I. 'Don't laugh, when I say it was always -the same in little things as it is in greater ones. My old troubles were -nonsense, and now they are serious; but whenever I have gone away from -my adopted sister--' - -Agnes looked up--with such a Heavenly face!--and gave me her hand, which -I kissed. - -'Whenever I have not had you, Agnes, to advise and approve in the -beginning, I have seemed to go wild, and to get into all sorts of -difficulty. When I have come to you, at last (as I have always done), -I have come to peace and happiness. I come home, now, like a tired -traveller, and find such a blessed sense of rest!' - -I felt so deeply what I said, it affected me so sincerely, that my voice -failed, and I covered my face with my hand, and broke into tears. I -write the truth. Whatever contradictions and inconsistencies there were -within me, as there are within so many of us; whatever might have been -so different, and so much better; whatever I had done, in which I had -perversely wandered away from the voice of my own heart; I knew nothing -of. I only knew that I was fervently in earnest, when I felt the rest -and peace of having Agnes near me. - -In her placid sisterly manner; with her beaming eyes; with her tender -voice; and with that sweet composure, which had long ago made the house -that held her quite a sacred place to me; she soon won me from this -weakness, and led me on to tell all that had happened since our last -meeting. - -'And there is not another word to tell, Agnes,' said I, when I had made -an end of my confidence. 'Now, my reliance is on you.' - -'But it must not be on me, Trotwood,' returned Agnes, with a pleasant -smile. 'It must be on someone else.' - -'On Dora?' said I. - -'Assuredly.' - -'Why, I have not mentioned, Agnes,' said I, a little embarrassed, 'that -Dora is rather difficult to--I would not, for the world, say, to rely -upon, because she is the soul of purity and truth--but rather difficult -to--I hardly know how to express it, really, Agnes. She is a timid -little thing, and easily disturbed and frightened. Some time ago, before -her father's death, when I thought it right to mention to her--but I'll -tell you, if you will bear with me, how it was.' - -Accordingly, I told Agnes about my declaration of poverty, about the -cookery-book, the housekeeping accounts, and all the rest of it. - -'Oh, Trotwood!' she remonstrated, with a smile. 'Just your old headlong -way! You might have been in earnest in striving to get on in the world, -without being so very sudden with a timid, loving, inexperienced girl. -Poor Dora!' - -I never heard such sweet forbearing kindness expressed in a voice, -as she expressed in making this reply. It was as if I had seen her -admiringly and tenderly embracing Dora, and tacitly reproving me, by -her considerate protection, for my hot haste in fluttering that little -heart. It was as if I had seen Dora, in all her fascinating artlessness, -caressing Agnes, and thanking her, and coaxingly appealing against me, -and loving me with all her childish innocence. - -I felt so grateful to Agnes, and admired her so! I saw those two -together, in a bright perspective, such well-associated friends, each -adorning the other so much! - -'What ought I to do then, Agnes?' I inquired, after looking at the fire -a little while. 'What would it be right to do?' - -'I think,' said Agnes, 'that the honourable course to take, would be to -write to those two ladies. Don't you think that any secret course is an -unworthy one?' - -'Yes. If YOU think so,' said I. - -'I am poorly qualified to judge of such matters,' replied Agnes, with -a modest hesitation, 'but I certainly feel--in short, I feel that your -being secret and clandestine, is not being like yourself.' - -'Like myself, in the too high opinion you have of me, Agnes, I am -afraid,' said I. - -'Like yourself, in the candour of your nature,' she returned; 'and -therefore I would write to those two ladies. I would relate, as plainly -and as openly as possible, all that has taken place; and I would ask -their permission to visit sometimes, at their house. Considering that -you are young, and striving for a place in life, I think it would be -well to say that you would readily abide by any conditions they might -impose upon you. I would entreat them not to dismiss your request, -without a reference to Dora; and to discuss it with her when they should -think the time suitable. I would not be too vehement,' said Agnes, -gently, 'or propose too much. I would trust to my fidelity and -perseverance--and to Dora.' - -'But if they were to frighten Dora again, Agnes, by speaking to her,' -said I. 'And if Dora were to cry, and say nothing about me!' - -'Is that likely?' inquired Agnes, with the same sweet consideration in -her face. - -'God bless her, she is as easily scared as a bird,' said I. 'It might -be! Or if the two Miss Spenlows (elderly ladies of that sort are odd -characters sometimes) should not be likely persons to address in that -way!' - -'I don't think, Trotwood,' returned Agnes, raising her soft eyes -to mine, 'I would consider that. Perhaps it would be better only to -consider whether it is right to do this; and, if it is, to do it.' - -I had no longer any doubt on the subject. With a lightened heart, though -with a profound sense of the weighty importance of my task, I devoted -the whole afternoon to the composition of the draft of this letter; for -which great purpose, Agnes relinquished her desk to me. But first I went -downstairs to see Mr. Wickfield and Uriah Heep. - -I found Uriah in possession of a new, plaster-smelling office, built out -in the garden; looking extraordinarily mean, in the midst of a quantity -of books and papers. He received me in his usual fawning way, and -pretended not to have heard of my arrival from Mr. Micawber; a -pretence I took the liberty of disbelieving. He accompanied me into Mr. -Wickfield's room, which was the shadow of its former self--having been -divested of a variety of conveniences, for the accommodation of the new -partner--and stood before the fire, warming his back, and shaving his -chin with his bony hand, while Mr. Wickfield and I exchanged greetings. - -'You stay with us, Trotwood, while you remain in Canterbury?' said Mr. -Wickfield, not without a glance at Uriah for his approval. - -'Is there room for me?' said I. - -'I am sure, Master Copperfield--I should say Mister, but the other -comes so natural,' said Uriah,--'I would turn out of your old room with -pleasure, if it would be agreeable.' - -'No, no,' said Mr. Wickfield. 'Why should you be inconvenienced? There's -another room. There's another room.' 'Oh, but you know,' returned Uriah, -with a grin, 'I should really be delighted!' - -To cut the matter short, I said I would have the other room or none at -all; so it was settled that I should have the other room; and, taking my -leave of the firm until dinner, I went upstairs again. - -I had hoped to have no other companion than Agnes. But Mrs. Heep had -asked permission to bring herself and her knitting near the fire, in -that room; on pretence of its having an aspect more favourable for -her rheumatics, as the wind then was, than the drawing-room or -dining-parlour. Though I could almost have consigned her to the mercies -of the wind on the topmost pinnacle of the Cathedral, without remorse, I -made a virtue of necessity, and gave her a friendly salutation. - -'I'm umbly thankful to you, sir,' said Mrs. Heep, in acknowledgement of -my inquiries concerning her health, 'but I'm only pretty well. I haven't -much to boast of. If I could see my Uriah well settled in life, I -couldn't expect much more I think. How do you think my Ury looking, -sir?' - -I thought him looking as villainous as ever, and I replied that I saw no -change in him. - -'Oh, don't you think he's changed?' said Mrs. Heep. 'There I must umbly -beg leave to differ from you. Don't you see a thinness in him?' - -'Not more than usual,' I replied. - -'Don't you though!' said Mrs. Heep. 'But you don't take notice of him -with a mother's eye!' - -His mother's eye was an evil eye to the rest of the world, I thought as -it met mine, howsoever affectionate to him; and I believe she and her -son were devoted to one another. It passed me, and went on to Agnes. - -'Don't YOU see a wasting and a wearing in him, Miss Wickfield?' inquired -Mrs. Heep. - -'No,' said Agnes, quietly pursuing the work on which she was engaged. -'You are too solicitous about him. He is very well.' - -Mrs. Heep, with a prodigious sniff, resumed her knitting. - -She never left off, or left us for a moment. I had arrived early in the -day, and we had still three or four hours before dinner; but she sat -there, plying her knitting-needles as monotonously as an hour-glass -might have poured out its sands. She sat on one side of the fire; I sat -at the desk in front of it; a little beyond me, on the other side, sat -Agnes. Whensoever, slowly pondering over my letter, I lifted up my -eyes, and meeting the thoughtful face of Agnes, saw it clear, and beam -encouragement upon me, with its own angelic expression, I was conscious -presently of the evil eye passing me, and going on to her, and coming -back to me again, and dropping furtively upon the knitting. What the -knitting was, I don't know, not being learned in that art; but it looked -like a net; and as she worked away with those Chinese chopsticks of -knitting-needles, she showed in the firelight like an ill-looking -enchantress, baulked as yet by the radiant goodness opposite, but -getting ready for a cast of her net by and by. - -At dinner she maintained her watch, with the same unwinking eyes. After -dinner, her son took his turn; and when Mr. Wickfield, himself, and I -were left alone together, leered at me, and writhed until I could hardly -bear it. In the drawing-room, there was the mother knitting and watching -again. All the time that Agnes sang and played, the mother sat at the -piano. Once she asked for a particular ballad, which she said her Ury -(who was yawning in a great chair) doted on; and at intervals she looked -round at him, and reported to Agnes that he was in raptures with the -music. But she hardly ever spoke--I question if she ever did--without -making some mention of him. It was evident to me that this was the duty -assigned to her. - -This lasted until bedtime. To have seen the mother and son, like two -great bats hanging over the whole house, and darkening it with their -ugly forms, made me so uncomfortable, that I would rather have remained -downstairs, knitting and all, than gone to bed. I hardly got any sleep. -Next day the knitting and watching began again, and lasted all day. - -I had not an opportunity of speaking to Agnes, for ten minutes. I could -barely show her my letter. I proposed to her to walk out with me; but -Mrs. Heep repeatedly complaining that she was worse, Agnes charitably -remained within, to bear her company. Towards the twilight I went out -by myself, musing on what I ought to do, and whether I was justified -in withholding from Agnes, any longer, what Uriah Heep had told me in -London; for that began to trouble me again, very much. - -I had not walked out far enough to be quite clear of the town, upon the -Ramsgate road, where there was a good path, when I was hailed, through -the dust, by somebody behind me. The shambling figure, and the scanty -great-coat, were not to be mistaken. I stopped, and Uriah Heep came up. - -'Well?' said I. - -'How fast you walk!' said he. 'My legs are pretty long, but you've given -'em quite a job.' - -'Where are you going?' said I. - -'I am going with you, Master Copperfield, if you'll allow me the -pleasure of a walk with an old acquaintance.' Saying this, with a jerk -of his body, which might have been either propitiatory or derisive, he -fell into step beside me. - -'Uriah!' said I, as civilly as I could, after a silence. - -'Master Copperfield!' said Uriah. - -'To tell you the truth (at which you will not be offended), I came Out -to walk alone, because I have had so much company.' - -He looked at me sideways, and said with his hardest grin, 'You mean -mother.' - -'Why yes, I do,' said I. - -'Ah! But you know we're so very umble,' he returned. 'And having such a -knowledge of our own umbleness, we must really take care that we're not -pushed to the wall by them as isn't umble. All stratagems are fair in -love, sir.' - -Raising his great hands until they touched his chin, he rubbed them -softly, and softly chuckled; looking as like a malevolent baboon, I -thought, as anything human could look. - -'You see,' he said, still hugging himself in that unpleasant way, -and shaking his head at me, 'you're quite a dangerous rival, Master -Copperfield. You always was, you know.' - -'Do you set a watch upon Miss Wickfield, and make her home no home, -because of me?' said I. - -'Oh! Master Copperfield! Those are very arsh words,' he replied. - -'Put my meaning into any words you like,' said I. 'You know what it is, -Uriah, as well as I do.' - -'Oh no! You must put it into words,' he said. 'Oh, really! I couldn't -myself.' - -'Do you suppose,' said I, constraining myself to be very temperate -and quiet with him, on account of Agnes, 'that I regard Miss Wickfield -otherwise than as a very dear sister?' - -'Well, Master Copperfield,' he replied, 'you perceive I am not bound -to answer that question. You may not, you know. But then, you see, you -may!' - -Anything to equal the low cunning of his visage, and of his shadowless -eyes without the ghost of an eyelash, I never saw. - -'Come then!' said I. 'For the sake of Miss Wickfield--' - -'My Agnes!' he exclaimed, with a sickly, angular contortion of himself. -'Would you be so good as call her Agnes, Master Copperfield!' - -'For the sake of Agnes Wickfield--Heaven bless her!' - -'Thank you for that blessing, Master Copperfield!' he interposed. - -'I will tell you what I should, under any other circumstances, as soon -have thought of telling to--Jack Ketch.' - -'To who, sir?' said Uriah, stretching out his neck, and shading his ear -with his hand. - -'To the hangman,' I returned. 'The most unlikely person I could think -of,'--though his own face had suggested the allusion quite as a natural -sequence. 'I am engaged to another young lady. I hope that contents -you.' - -'Upon your soul?' said Uriah. - -I was about indignantly to give my assertion the confirmation he -required, when he caught hold of my hand, and gave it a squeeze. - -'Oh, Master Copperfield!' he said. 'If you had only had the -condescension to return my confidence when I poured out the fulness of -my art, the night I put you so much out of the way by sleeping before -your sitting-room fire, I never should have doubted you. As it is, I'm -sure I'll take off mother directly, and only too appy. I know you'll -excuse the precautions of affection, won't you? What a pity, Master -Copperfield, that you didn't condescend to return my confidence! I'm -sure I gave you every opportunity. But you never have condescended to -me, as much as I could have wished. I know you have never liked me, as I -have liked you!' - -All this time he was squeezing my hand with his damp fishy fingers, -while I made every effort I decently could to get it away. But I was -quite unsuccessful. He drew it under the sleeve of his mulberry-coloured -great-coat, and I walked on, almost upon compulsion, arm-in-arm with -him. - -'Shall we turn?' said Uriah, by and by wheeling me face about towards -the town, on which the early moon was now shining, silvering the distant -windows. - -'Before we leave the subject, you ought to understand,' said I, breaking -a pretty long silence, 'that I believe Agnes Wickfield to be as far -above you, and as far removed from all your aspirations, as that moon -herself!' - -'Peaceful! Ain't she!' said Uriah. 'Very! Now confess, Master -Copperfield, that you haven't liked me quite as I have liked you. All -along you've thought me too umble now, I shouldn't wonder?' - -'I am not fond of professions of humility,' I returned, 'or professions -of anything else.' 'There now!' said Uriah, looking flabby and -lead-coloured in the moonlight. 'Didn't I know it! But how little -you think of the rightful umbleness of a person in my station, Master -Copperfield! Father and me was both brought up at a foundation school -for boys; and mother, she was likewise brought up at a public, sort of -charitable, establishment. They taught us all a deal of umbleness--not -much else that I know of, from morning to night. We was to be umble to -this person, and umble to that; and to pull off our caps here, and -to make bows there; and always to know our place, and abase ourselves -before our betters. And we had such a lot of betters! Father got the -monitor-medal by being umble. So did I. Father got made a sexton by -being umble. He had the character, among the gentlefolks, of being -such a well-behaved man, that they were determined to bring him in. "Be -umble, Uriah," says father to me, "and you'll get on. It was what was -always being dinned into you and me at school; it's what goes down best. -Be umble," says father, "and you'll do!" And really it ain't done bad!' - -It was the first time it had ever occurred to me, that this detestable -cant of false humility might have originated out of the Heep family. I -had seen the harvest, but had never thought of the seed. - -'When I was quite a young boy,' said Uriah, 'I got to know what -umbleness did, and I took to it. I ate umble pie with an appetite. I -stopped at the umble point of my learning, and says I, "Hold hard!" When -you offered to teach me Latin, I knew better. "People like to be above -you," says father, "keep yourself down." I am very umble to the present -moment, Master Copperfield, but I've got a little power!' - -And he said all this--I knew, as I saw his face in the moonlight--that -I might understand he was resolved to recompense himself by using his -power. I had never doubted his meanness, his craft and malice; but I -fully comprehended now, for the first time, what a base, unrelenting, -and revengeful spirit, must have been engendered by this early, and this -long, suppression. - -His account of himself was so far attended with an agreeable result, -that it led to his withdrawing his hand in order that he might have -another hug of himself under the chin. Once apart from him, I was -determined to keep apart; and we walked back, side by side, saying -very little more by the way. Whether his spirits were elevated by the -communication I had made to him, or by his having indulged in this -retrospect, I don't know; but they were raised by some influence. He -talked more at dinner than was usual with him; asked his mother (off -duty, from the moment of our re-entering the house) whether he was not -growing too old for a bachelor; and once looked at Agnes so, that I -would have given all I had, for leave to knock him down. - -When we three males were left alone after dinner, he got into a more -adventurous state. He had taken little or no wine; and I presume it was -the mere insolence of triumph that was upon him, flushed perhaps by the -temptation my presence furnished to its exhibition. - -I had observed yesterday, that he tried to entice Mr. Wickfield to -drink; and, interpreting the look which Agnes had given me as she went -out, had limited myself to one glass, and then proposed that we should -follow her. I would have done so again today; but Uriah was too quick -for me. - -'We seldom see our present visitor, sir,' he said, addressing Mr. -Wickfield, sitting, such a contrast to him, at the end of the table, -'and I should propose to give him welcome in another glass or two -of wine, if you have no objections. Mr. Copperfield, your elth and -appiness!' - -I was obliged to make a show of taking the hand he stretched across -to me; and then, with very different emotions, I took the hand of the -broken gentleman, his partner. - -'Come, fellow-partner,' said Uriah, 'if I may take the liberty,--now, -suppose you give us something or another appropriate to Copperfield!' - -I pass over Mr. Wickfield's proposing my aunt, his proposing Mr. Dick, -his proposing Doctors' Commons, his proposing Uriah, his drinking -everything twice; his consciousness of his own weakness, the ineffectual -effort that he made against it; the struggle between his shame in -Uriah's deportment, and his desire to conciliate him; the manifest -exultation with which Uriah twisted and turned, and held him up before -me. It made me sick at heart to see, and my hand recoils from writing -it. - -'Come, fellow-partner!' said Uriah, at last, 'I'll give you another one, -and I umbly ask for bumpers, seeing I intend to make it the divinest of -her sex.' - -Her father had his empty glass in his hand. I saw him set it down, look -at the picture she was so like, put his hand to his forehead, and shrink -back in his elbow-chair. - -'I'm an umble individual to give you her elth,' proceeded Uriah, 'but I -admire--adore her.' - -No physical pain that her father's grey head could have borne, I think, -could have been more terrible to me, than the mental endurance I saw -compressed now within both his hands. - -'Agnes,' said Uriah, either not regarding him, or not knowing what the -nature of his action was, 'Agnes Wickfield is, I am safe to say, the -divinest of her sex. May I speak out, among friends? To be her father is -a proud distinction, but to be her usband--' - -Spare me from ever again hearing such a cry, as that with which her -father rose up from the table! 'What's the matter?' said Uriah, turning -of a deadly colour. 'You are not gone mad, after all, Mr. Wickfield, I -hope? If I say I've an ambition to make your Agnes my Agnes, I have as -good a right to it as another man. I have a better right to it than any -other man!' - -I had my arms round Mr. Wickfield, imploring him by everything that I -could think of, oftenest of all by his love for Agnes, to calm himself -a little. He was mad for the moment; tearing out his hair, beating his -head, trying to force me from him, and to force himself from me, not -answering a word, not looking at or seeing anyone; blindly striving -for he knew not what, his face all staring and distorted--a frightful -spectacle. - -I conjured him, incoherently, but in the most impassioned manner, not -to abandon himself to this wildness, but to hear me. I besought him to -think of Agnes, to connect me with Agnes, to recollect how Agnes and I -had grown up together, how I honoured her and loved her, how she was his -pride and joy. I tried to bring her idea before him in any form; I even -reproached him with not having firmness to spare her the knowledge of -such a scene as this. I may have effected something, or his wildness may -have spent itself; but by degrees he struggled less, and began to look -at me--strangely at first, then with recognition in his eyes. At length -he said, 'I know, Trotwood! My darling child and you--I know! But look -at him!' - -He pointed to Uriah, pale and glowering in a corner, evidently very much -out in his calculations, and taken by surprise. - -'Look at my torturer,' he replied. 'Before him I have step by step -abandoned name and reputation, peace and quiet, house and home.' - -'I have kept your name and reputation for you, and your peace and -quiet, and your house and home too,' said Uriah, with a sulky, hurried, -defeated air of compromise. 'Don't be foolish, Mr. Wickfield. If I -have gone a little beyond what you were prepared for, I can go back, I -suppose? There's no harm done.' - -'I looked for single motives in everyone,' said Mr. Wickfield, 'and I was -satisfied I had bound him to me by motives of interest. But see what he -is--oh, see what he is!' - -'You had better stop him, Copperfield, if you can,' cried Uriah, -with his long forefinger pointing towards me. 'He'll say something -presently--mind you!--he'll be sorry to have said afterwards, and you'll -be sorry to have heard!' - -'I'll say anything!' cried Mr. Wickfield, with a desperate air. 'Why -should I not be in all the world's power if I am in yours?' - -'Mind! I tell you!' said Uriah, continuing to warn me. 'If you don't -stop his mouth, you're not his friend! Why shouldn't you be in all the -world's power, Mr. Wickfield? Because you have got a daughter. You and -me know what we know, don't we? Let sleeping dogs lie--who wants to -rouse 'em? I don't. Can't you see I am as umble as I can be? I tell you, -if I've gone too far, I'm sorry. What would you have, sir?' - -'Oh, Trotwood, Trotwood!'exclaimed Mr. Wickfield, wringing his hands. -'What I have come down to be, since I first saw you in this house! I was -on my downward way then, but the dreary, dreary road I have traversed -since! Weak indulgence has ruined me. Indulgence in remembrance, and -indulgence in forgetfulness. My natural grief for my child's mother -turned to disease; my natural love for my child turned to disease. I -have infected everything I touched. I have brought misery on what I -dearly love, I know--you know! I thought it possible that I could truly -love one creature in the world, and not love the rest; I thought it -possible that I could truly mourn for one creature gone out of the -world, and not have some part in the grief of all who mourned. Thus the -lessons of my life have been perverted! I have preyed on my own morbid -coward heart, and it has preyed on me. Sordid in my grief, sordid in my -love, sordid in my miserable escape from the darker side of both, oh see -the ruin I am, and hate me, shun me!' - -He dropped into a chair, and weakly sobbed. The excitement into which he -had been roused was leaving him. Uriah came out of his corner. - -'I don't know all I have done, in my fatuity,' said Mr. Wickfield, -putting out his hands, as if to deprecate my condemnation. 'He knows -best,' meaning Uriah Heep, 'for he has always been at my elbow, -whispering me. You see the millstone that he is about my neck. You -find him in my house, you find him in my business. You heard him, but a -little time ago. What need have I to say more!' - -'You haven't need to say so much, nor half so much, nor anything at -all,' observed Uriah, half defiant, and half fawning. 'You wouldn't have -took it up so, if it hadn't been for the wine. You'll think better of -it tomorrow, sir. If I have said too much, or more than I meant, what of -it? I haven't stood by it!' - -The door opened, and Agnes, gliding in, without a vestige of colour in -her face, put her arm round his neck, and steadily said, 'Papa, you are -not well. Come with me!' - -He laid his head upon her shoulder, as if he were oppressed with heavy -shame, and went out with her. Her eyes met mine for but an instant, yet -I saw how much she knew of what had passed. - -'I didn't expect he'd cut up so rough, Master Copperfield,' said Uriah. -'But it's nothing. I'll be friends with him tomorrow. It's for his good. -I'm umbly anxious for his good.' - -I gave him no answer, and went upstairs into the quiet room where Agnes -had so often sat beside me at my books. Nobody came near me until late -at night. I took up a book, and tried to read. I heard the clocks strike -twelve, and was still reading, without knowing what I read, when Agnes -touched me. - -'You will be going early in the morning, Trotwood! Let us say good-bye, -now!' - -She had been weeping, but her face then was so calm and beautiful! - -'Heaven bless you!' she said, giving me her hand. - -'Dearest Agnes!' I returned, 'I see you ask me not to speak of -tonight--but is there nothing to be done?' - -'There is God to trust in!' she replied. - -'Can I do nothing--I, who come to you with my poor sorrows?' - -'And make mine so much lighter,' she replied. 'Dear Trotwood, no!' - -'Dear Agnes,' I said, 'it is presumptuous for me, who am so poor in all -in which you are so rich--goodness, resolution, all noble qualities--to -doubt or direct you; but you know how much I love you, and how much I -owe you. You will never sacrifice yourself to a mistaken sense of duty, -Agnes?' - -More agitated for a moment than I had ever seen her, she took her hands -from me, and moved a step back. - -'Say you have no such thought, dear Agnes! Much more than sister! -Think of the priceless gift of such a heart as yours, of such a love as -yours!' - -Oh! long, long afterwards, I saw that face rise up before me, with its -momentary look, not wondering, not accusing, not regretting. Oh, long, -long afterwards, I saw that look subside, as it did now, into the lovely -smile, with which she told me she had no fear for herself--I need have -none for her--and parted from me by the name of Brother, and was gone! - -It was dark in the morning, when I got upon the coach at the inn door. -The day was just breaking when we were about to start, and then, as -I sat thinking of her, came struggling up the coach side, through the -mingled day and night, Uriah's head. - -'Copperfield!' said he, in a croaking whisper, as he hung by the iron -on the roof, 'I thought you'd be glad to hear before you went off, that -there are no squares broke between us. I've been into his room already, -and we've made it all smooth. Why, though I'm umble, I'm useful to him, -you know; and he understands his interest when he isn't in liquor! What -an agreeable man he is, after all, Master Copperfield!' - -I obliged myself to say that I was glad he had made his apology. - -'Oh, to be sure!' said Uriah. 'When a person's umble, you know, what's -an apology? So easy! I say! I suppose,' with a jerk, 'you have sometimes -plucked a pear before it was ripe, Master Copperfield?' - -'I suppose I have,' I replied. - -'I did that last night,' said Uriah; 'but it'll ripen yet! It only wants -attending to. I can wait!' - -Profuse in his farewells, he got down again as the coachman got up. For -anything I know, he was eating something to keep the raw morning -air out; but he made motions with his mouth as if the pear were ripe -already, and he were smacking his lips over it. - - - -CHAPTER 40. THE WANDERER - - -We had a very serious conversation in Buckingham Street that night, -about the domestic occurrences I have detailed in the last chapter. My -aunt was deeply interested in them, and walked up and down the room with -her arms folded, for more than two hours afterwards. Whenever she was -particularly discomposed, she always performed one of these pedestrian -feats; and the amount of her discomposure might always be estimated by -the duration of her walk. On this occasion she was so much disturbed in -mind as to find it necessary to open the bedroom door, and make a course -for herself, comprising the full extent of the bedrooms from wall to -wall; and while Mr. Dick and I sat quietly by the fire, she kept passing -in and out, along this measured track, at an unchanging pace, with the -regularity of a clock-pendulum. - -When my aunt and I were left to ourselves by Mr. Dick's going out to -bed, I sat down to write my letter to the two old ladies. By that time -she was tired of walking, and sat by the fire with her dress tucked up -as usual. But instead of sitting in her usual manner, holding her glass -upon her knee, she suffered it to stand neglected on the chimney-piece; -and, resting her left elbow on her right arm, and her chin on her left -hand, looked thoughtfully at me. As often as I raised my eyes from what -I was about, I met hers. 'I am in the lovingest of tempers, my dear,' -she would assure me with a nod, 'but I am fidgeted and sorry!' - -I had been too busy to observe, until after she was gone to bed, that -she had left her night-mixture, as she always called it, untasted on -the chimney-piece. She came to her door, with even more than her usual -affection of manner, when I knocked to acquaint her with this discovery; -but only said, 'I have not the heart to take it, Trot, tonight,' and -shook her head, and went in again. - -She read my letter to the two old ladies, in the morning, and approved -of it. I posted it, and had nothing to do then, but wait, as patiently -as I could, for the reply. I was still in this state of expectation, and -had been, for nearly a week; when I left the Doctor's one snowy night, -to walk home. - -It had been a bitter day, and a cutting north-east wind had blown for -some time. The wind had gone down with the light, and so the snow had -come on. It was a heavy, settled fall, I recollect, in great flakes; and -it lay thick. The noise of wheels and tread of people were as hushed, as -if the streets had been strewn that depth with feathers. - -My shortest way home,--and I naturally took the shortest way on such a -night--was through St. Martin's Lane. Now, the church which gives its -name to the lane, stood in a less free situation at that time; there -being no open space before it, and the lane winding down to the Strand. -As I passed the steps of the portico, I encountered, at the corner, -a woman's face. It looked in mine, passed across the narrow lane, -and disappeared. I knew it. I had seen it somewhere. But I could not -remember where. I had some association with it, that struck upon my -heart directly; but I was thinking of anything else when it came upon -me, and was confused. - -On the steps of the church, there was the stooping figure of a man, who -had put down some burden on the smooth snow, to adjust it; my seeing the -face, and my seeing him, were simultaneous. I don't think I had stopped -in my surprise; but, in any case, as I went on, he rose, turned, and -came down towards me. I stood face to face with Mr. Peggotty! - -Then I remembered the woman. It was Martha, to whom Emily had given the -money that night in the kitchen. Martha Endell--side by side with whom, -he would not have seen his dear niece, Ham had told me, for all the -treasures wrecked in the sea. - -We shook hands heartily. At first, neither of us could speak a word. - -'Mas'r Davy!' he said, gripping me tight, 'it do my art good to see you, -sir. Well met, well met!' - -'Well met, my dear old friend!' said I. - -'I had my thowts o' coming to make inquiration for you, sir, tonight,' -he said, 'but knowing as your aunt was living along wi' you--fur I've -been down yonder--Yarmouth way--I was afeerd it was too late. I should -have come early in the morning, sir, afore going away.' - -'Again?' said I. - -'Yes, sir,' he replied, patiently shaking his head, 'I'm away tomorrow.' - -'Where were you going now?' I asked. - -'Well!' he replied, shaking the snow out of his long hair, 'I was -a-going to turn in somewheers.' - -In those days there was a side-entrance to the stable-yard of the Golden -Cross, the inn so memorable to me in connexion with his misfortune, -nearly opposite to where we stood. I pointed out the gateway, put my arm -through his, and we went across. Two or three public-rooms opened out of -the stable-yard; and looking into one of them, and finding it empty, and -a good fire burning, I took him in there. - -When I saw him in the light, I observed, not only that his hair was long -and ragged, but that his face was burnt dark by the sun. He was greyer, -the lines in his face and forehead were deeper, and he had every -appearance of having toiled and wandered through all varieties -of weather; but he looked very strong, and like a man upheld by -steadfastness of purpose, whom nothing could tire out. He shook the snow -from his hat and clothes, and brushed it away from his face, while I was -inwardly making these remarks. As he sat down opposite to me at a table, -with his back to the door by which we had entered, he put out his rough -hand again, and grasped mine warmly. - -'I'll tell you, Mas'r Davy,' he said,--'wheer all I've been, and -what-all we've heerd. I've been fur, and we've heerd little; but I'll -tell you!' - -I rang the bell for something hot to drink. He would have nothing -stronger than ale; and while it was being brought, and being warmed -at the fire, he sat thinking. There was a fine, massive gravity in his -face, I did not venture to disturb. - -'When she was a child,' he said, lifting up his head soon after we were -left alone, 'she used to talk to me a deal about the sea, and about -them coasts where the sea got to be dark blue, and to lay a-shining and -a-shining in the sun. I thowt, odd times, as her father being drownded -made her think on it so much. I doen't know, you see, but maybe she -believed--or hoped--he had drifted out to them parts, where the flowers -is always a-blowing, and the country bright.' - -'It is likely to have been a childish fancy,' I replied. - -'When she was--lost,' said Mr. Peggotty, 'I know'd in my mind, as he -would take her to them countries. I know'd in my mind, as he'd have told -her wonders of 'em, and how she was to be a lady theer, and how he got -her to listen to him fust, along o' sech like. When we see his mother, -I know'd quite well as I was right. I went across-channel to France, and -landed theer, as if I'd fell down from the sky.' - -I saw the door move, and the snow drift in. I saw it move a little more, -and a hand softly interpose to keep it open. - -'I found out an English gen'leman as was in authority,' said Mr. -Peggotty, 'and told him I was a-going to seek my niece. He got me them -papers as I wanted fur to carry me through--I doen't rightly know how -they're called--and he would have give me money, but that I was thankful -to have no need on. I thank him kind, for all he done, I'm sure! "I've -wrote afore you," he says to me, "and I shall speak to many as will come -that way, and many will know you, fur distant from here, when you're -a-travelling alone." I told him, best as I was able, what my gratitoode -was, and went away through France.' - -'Alone, and on foot?' said I. - -'Mostly a-foot,' he rejoined; 'sometimes in carts along with people -going to market; sometimes in empty coaches. Many mile a day a-foot, and -often with some poor soldier or another, travelling to see his friends. -I couldn't talk to him,' said Mr. Peggotty, 'nor he to me; but we was -company for one another, too, along the dusty roads.' - -I should have known that by his friendly tone. - -'When I come to any town,' he pursued, 'I found the inn, and waited -about the yard till someone turned up (someone mostly did) as know'd -English. Then I told how that I was on my way to seek my niece, and they -told me what manner of gentlefolks was in the house, and I waited to see -any as seemed like her, going in or out. When it warn't Em'ly, I went on -agen. By little and little, when I come to a new village or that, among -the poor people, I found they know'd about me. They would set me down at -their cottage doors, and give me what-not fur to eat and drink, and show -me where to sleep; and many a woman, Mas'r Davy, as has had a daughter -of about Em'ly's age, I've found a-waiting fur me, at Our Saviour's -Cross outside the village, fur to do me sim'lar kindnesses. Some has had -daughters as was dead. And God only knows how good them mothers was to -me!' - -It was Martha at the door. I saw her haggard, listening face distinctly. -My dread was lest he should turn his head, and see her too. - -'They would often put their children--particular their little girls,' -said Mr. Peggotty, 'upon my knee; and many a time you might have seen -me sitting at their doors, when night was coming in, a'most as if they'd -been my Darling's children. Oh, my Darling!' - -Overpowered by sudden grief, he sobbed aloud. I laid my trembling hand -upon the hand he put before his face. 'Thankee, sir,' he said, 'doen't -take no notice.' - -In a very little while he took his hand away and put it on his breast, -and went on with his story. 'They often walked with me,' he said, 'in -the morning, maybe a mile or two upon my road; and when we parted, and -I said, "I'm very thankful to you! God bless you!" they always seemed to -understand, and answered pleasant. At last I come to the sea. It warn't -hard, you may suppose, for a seafaring man like me to work his way -over to Italy. When I got theer, I wandered on as I had done afore. The -people was just as good to me, and I should have gone from town to town, -maybe the country through, but that I got news of her being seen among -them Swiss mountains yonder. One as know'd his servant see 'em there, -all three, and told me how they travelled, and where they was. I made -fur them mountains, Mas'r Davy, day and night. Ever so fur as I went, -ever so fur the mountains seemed to shift away from me. But I come up -with 'em, and I crossed 'em. When I got nigh the place as I had been -told of, I began to think within my own self, "What shall I do when I -see her?"' - -The listening face, insensible to the inclement night, still drooped at -the door, and the hands begged me--prayed me--not to cast it forth. - -'I never doubted her,' said Mr. Peggotty. 'No! Not a bit! On'y let her -see my face--on'y let her heer my voice--on'y let my stanning still -afore her bring to her thoughts the home she had fled away from, and the -child she had been--and if she had growed to be a royal lady, she'd have -fell down at my feet! I know'd it well! Many a time in my sleep had I -heerd her cry out, "Uncle!" and seen her fall like death afore me. Many -a time in my sleep had I raised her up, and whispered to her, "Em'ly, my -dear, I am come fur to bring forgiveness, and to take you home!"' - -He stopped and shook his head, and went on with a sigh. - -'He was nowt to me now. Em'ly was all. I bought a country dress to put -upon her; and I know'd that, once found, she would walk beside me over -them stony roads, go where I would, and never, never, leave me more. To -put that dress upon her, and to cast off what she wore--to take her on -my arm again, and wander towards home--to stop sometimes upon the road, -and heal her bruised feet and her worse-bruised heart--was all that I -thowt of now. I doen't believe I should have done so much as look at -him. But, Mas'r Davy, it warn't to be--not yet! I was too late, and they -was gone. Wheer, I couldn't learn. Some said heer, some said theer. -I travelled heer, and I travelled theer, but I found no Em'ly, and I -travelled home.' - -'How long ago?' I asked. - -'A matter o' fower days,' said Mr. Peggotty. 'I sighted the old boat -arter dark, and the light a-shining in the winder. When I come nigh and -looked in through the glass, I see the faithful creetur Missis Gummidge -sittin' by the fire, as we had fixed upon, alone. I called out, "Doen't -be afeerd! It's Dan'l!" and I went in. I never could have thowt the old -boat would have been so strange!' From some pocket in his breast, he -took out, with a very careful hand a small paper bundle containing two -or three letters or little packets, which he laid upon the table. - -'This fust one come,' he said, selecting it from the rest, 'afore I had -been gone a week. A fifty pound Bank note, in a sheet of paper, directed -to me, and put underneath the door in the night. She tried to hide her -writing, but she couldn't hide it from Me!' - -He folded up the note again, with great patience and care, in exactly -the same form, and laid it on one side. - -'This come to Missis Gummidge,' he said, opening another, 'two or three -months ago.' After looking at it for some moments, he gave it to me, and -added in a low voice, 'Be so good as read it, sir.' - -I read as follows: - - -'Oh what will you feel when you see this writing, and know it comes from -my wicked hand! But try, try--not for my sake, but for uncle's goodness, -try to let your heart soften to me, only for a little little time! Try, -pray do, to relent towards a miserable girl, and write down on a bit of -paper whether he is well, and what he said about me before you left off -ever naming me among yourselves--and whether, of a night, when it is my -old time of coming home, you ever see him look as if he thought of one -he used to love so dear. Oh, my heart is breaking when I think about -it! I am kneeling down to you, begging and praying you not to be as -hard with me as I deserve--as I well, well, know I deserve--but to be so -gentle and so good, as to write down something of him, and to send it to -me. You need not call me Little, you need not call me by the name I have -disgraced; but oh, listen to my agony, and have mercy on me so far as to -write me some word of uncle, never, never to be seen in this world by my -eyes again! - -'Dear, if your heart is hard towards me--justly hard, I know--but, -listen, if it is hard, dear, ask him I have wronged the most--him whose -wife I was to have been--before you quite decide against my poor poor -prayer! If he should be so compassionate as to say that you might write -something for me to read--I think he would, oh, I think he would, if you -would only ask him, for he always was so brave and so forgiving--tell -him then (but not else), that when I hear the wind blowing at night, -I feel as if it was passing angrily from seeing him and uncle, and was -going up to God against me. Tell him that if I was to die tomorrow (and -oh, if I was fit, I would be so glad to die!) I would bless him and -uncle with my last words, and pray for his happy home with my last -breath!' - - -Some money was enclosed in this letter also. Five pounds. It was -untouched like the previous sum, and he refolded it in the same way. -Detailed instructions were added relative to the address of a reply, -which, although they betrayed the intervention of several hands, and -made it difficult to arrive at any very probable conclusion in reference -to her place of concealment, made it at least not unlikely that she had -written from that spot where she was stated to have been seen. - -'What answer was sent?' I inquired of Mr. Peggotty. - -'Missis Gummidge,' he returned, 'not being a good scholar, sir, Ham -kindly drawed it out, and she made a copy on it. They told her I was -gone to seek her, and what my parting words was.' - -'Is that another letter in your hand?' said I. - -'It's money, sir,' said Mr. Peggotty, unfolding it a little way. 'Ten -pound, you see. And wrote inside, "From a true friend," like the fust. -But the fust was put underneath the door, and this come by the post, day -afore yesterday. I'm a-going to seek her at the post-mark.' - -He showed it to me. It was a town on the Upper Rhine. He had found out, -at Yarmouth, some foreign dealers who knew that country, and they had -drawn him a rude map on paper, which he could very well understand. He -laid it between us on the table; and, with his chin resting on one hand, -tracked his course upon it with the other. - -I asked him how Ham was? He shook his head. - -'He works,' he said, 'as bold as a man can. His name's as good, in all -that part, as any man's is, anywheres in the wureld. Anyone's hand is -ready to help him, you understand, and his is ready to help them. He's -never been heerd fur to complain. But my sister's belief is ('twixt -ourselves) as it has cut him deep.' - -'Poor fellow, I can believe it!' - -'He ain't no care, Mas'r Davy,' said Mr. Peggotty in a solemn -whisper--'kinder no care no-how for his life. When a man's wanted for -rough sarvice in rough weather, he's theer. When there's hard duty to -be done with danger in it, he steps for'ard afore all his mates. And yet -he's as gentle as any child. There ain't a child in Yarmouth that doen't -know him.' - -He gathered up the letters thoughtfully, smoothing them with his hand; -put them into their little bundle; and placed it tenderly in his breast -again. The face was gone from the door. I still saw the snow drifting -in; but nothing else was there. - -'Well!' he said, looking to his bag, 'having seen you tonight, Mas'r -Davy (and that doos me good!), I shall away betimes tomorrow morning. -You have seen what I've got heer'; putting his hand on where the little -packet lay; 'all that troubles me is, to think that any harm might come -to me, afore that money was give back. If I was to die, and it was lost, -or stole, or elseways made away with, and it was never know'd by him -but what I'd took it, I believe the t'other wureld wouldn't hold me! I -believe I must come back!' - -He rose, and I rose too; we grasped each other by the hand again, before -going out. - -'I'd go ten thousand mile,' he said, 'I'd go till I dropped dead, to lay -that money down afore him. If I do that, and find my Em'ly, I'm content. -If I doen't find her, maybe she'll come to hear, sometime, as her loving -uncle only ended his search for her when he ended his life; and if I -know her, even that will turn her home at last!' - -As he went out into the rigorous night, I saw the lonely figure flit -away before us. I turned him hastily on some pretence, and held him in -conversation until it was gone. - -He spoke of a traveller's house on the Dover Road, where he knew he -could find a clean, plain lodging for the night. I went with him over -Westminster Bridge, and parted from him on the Surrey shore. Everything -seemed, to my imagination, to be hushed in reverence for him, as he -resumed his solitary journey through the snow. - -I returned to the inn yard, and, impressed by my remembrance of the -face, looked awfully around for it. It was not there. The snow had -covered our late footprints; my new track was the only one to be seen; -and even that began to die away (it snowed so fast) as I looked back -over my shoulder. - - - -CHAPTER 41. DORA'S AUNTS - - -At last, an answer came from the two old ladies. They presented their -compliments to Mr. Copperfield, and informed him that they had given his -letter their best consideration, 'with a view to the happiness of -both parties'--which I thought rather an alarming expression, not -only because of the use they had made of it in relation to the family -difference before-mentioned, but because I had (and have all my life) -observed that conventional phrases are a sort of fireworks, easily let -off, and liable to take a great variety of shapes and colours not at -all suggested by their original form. The Misses Spenlow added that they -begged to forbear expressing, 'through the medium of correspondence', an -opinion on the subject of Mr. Copperfield's communication; but that if -Mr. Copperfield would do them the favour to call, upon a certain day -(accompanied, if he thought proper, by a confidential friend), they -would be happy to hold some conversation on the subject. - -To this favour, Mr. Copperfield immediately replied, with his respectful -compliments, that he would have the honour of waiting on the Misses -Spenlow, at the time appointed; accompanied, in accordance with their -kind permission, by his friend Mr. Thomas Traddles of the Inner Temple. -Having dispatched which missive, Mr. Copperfield fell into a condition -of strong nervous agitation; and so remained until the day arrived. - -It was a great augmentation of my uneasiness to be bereaved, at this -eventful crisis, of the inestimable services of Miss Mills. But Mr. -Mills, who was always doing something or other to annoy me--or I felt -as if he were, which was the same thing--had brought his conduct to a -climax, by taking it into his head that he would go to India. Why should -he go to India, except to harass me? To be sure he had nothing to do -with any other part of the world, and had a good deal to do with that -part; being entirely in the India trade, whatever that was (I had -floating dreams myself concerning golden shawls and elephants' teeth); -having been at Calcutta in his youth; and designing now to go out there -again, in the capacity of resident partner. But this was nothing to me. -However, it was so much to him that for India he was bound, and -Julia with him; and Julia went into the country to take leave of -her relations; and the house was put into a perfect suit of bills, -announcing that it was to be let or sold, and that the furniture (Mangle -and all) was to be taken at a valuation. So, here was another earthquake -of which I became the sport, before I had recovered from the shock of -its predecessor! - -I was in several minds how to dress myself on the important day; being -divided between my desire to appear to advantage, and my apprehensions -of putting on anything that might impair my severely practical character -in the eyes of the Misses Spenlow. I endeavoured to hit a happy medium -between these two extremes; my aunt approved the result; and Mr. Dick -threw one of his shoes after Traddles and me, for luck, as we went -downstairs. - -Excellent fellow as I knew Traddles to be, and warmly attached to him as -I was, I could not help wishing, on that delicate occasion, that he had -never contracted the habit of brushing his hair so very upright. It -gave him a surprised look--not to say a hearth-broomy kind of -expression--which, my apprehensions whispered, might be fatal to us. - -I took the liberty of mentioning it to Traddles, as we were walking to -Putney; and saying that if he WOULD smooth it down a little-- - -'My dear Copperfield,' said Traddles, lifting off his hat, and rubbing -his hair all kinds of ways, 'nothing would give me greater pleasure. But -it won't.' - -'Won't be smoothed down?' said I. - -'No,' said Traddles. 'Nothing will induce it. If I was to carry a -half-hundred-weight upon it, all the way to Putney, it would be up again -the moment the weight was taken off. You have no idea what obstinate -hair mine is, Copperfield. I am quite a fretful porcupine.' - -I was a little disappointed, I must confess, but thoroughly charmed by -his good-nature too. I told him how I esteemed his good-nature; and said -that his hair must have taken all the obstinacy out of his character, -for he had none. - -'Oh!' returned Traddles, laughing. 'I assure you, it's quite an old -story, my unfortunate hair. My uncle's wife couldn't bear it. She said -it exasperated her. It stood very much in my way, too, when I first fell -in love with Sophy. Very much!' - -'Did she object to it?' - -'SHE didn't,' rejoined Traddles; 'but her eldest sister--the one that's -the Beauty--quite made game of it, I understand. In fact, all the -sisters laugh at it.' - -'Agreeable!' said I. - -'Yes,' returned Traddles with perfect innocence, 'it's a joke for us. -They pretend that Sophy has a lock of it in her desk, and is obliged to -shut it in a clasped book, to keep it down. We laugh about it.' - -'By the by, my dear Traddles,' said I, 'your experience may suggest -something to me. When you became engaged to the young lady whom you have -just mentioned, did you make a regular proposal to her family? Was there -anything like--what we are going through today, for instance?' I added, -nervously. - -'Why,' replied Traddles, on whose attentive face a thoughtful shade had -stolen, 'it was rather a painful transaction, Copperfield, in my case. -You see, Sophy being of so much use in the family, none of them could -endure the thought of her ever being married. Indeed, they had quite -settled among themselves that she never was to be married, and they -called her the old maid. Accordingly, when I mentioned it, with the -greatest precaution, to Mrs. Crewler--' - -'The mama?' said I. - -'The mama,' said Traddles--'Reverend Horace Crewler--when I mentioned it -with every possible precaution to Mrs. Crewler, the effect upon her was -such that she gave a scream and became insensible. I couldn't approach -the subject again, for months.' - -'You did at last?' said I. - -'Well, the Reverend Horace did,' said Traddles. 'He is an excellent man, -most exemplary in every way; and he pointed out to her that she ought, -as a Christian, to reconcile herself to the sacrifice (especially as it -was so uncertain), and to bear no uncharitable feeling towards me. As to -myself, Copperfield, I give you my word, I felt a perfect bird of prey -towards the family.' - -'The sisters took your part, I hope, Traddles?' - -'Why, I can't say they did,' he returned. 'When we had comparatively -reconciled Mrs. Crewler to it, we had to break it to Sarah. You -recollect my mentioning Sarah, as the one that has something the matter -with her spine?' - -'Perfectly!' - -'She clenched both her hands,' said Traddles, looking at me in dismay; -'shut her eyes; turned lead-colour; became perfectly stiff; and -took nothing for two days but toast-and-water, administered with a -tea-spoon.' - -'What a very unpleasant girl, Traddles!' I remarked. - -'Oh, I beg your pardon, Copperfield!' said Traddles. 'She is a very -charming girl, but she has a great deal of feeling. In fact, they all -have. Sophy told me afterwards, that the self-reproach she underwent -while she was in attendance upon Sarah, no words could describe. I know -it must have been severe, by my own feelings, Copperfield; which were -like a criminal's. After Sarah was restored, we still had to break it -to the other eight; and it produced various effects upon them of a most -pathetic nature. The two little ones, whom Sophy educates, have only -just left off de-testing me.' - -'At any rate, they are all reconciled to it now, I hope?' said I. - -'Ye-yes, I should say they were, on the whole, resigned to it,' said -Traddles, doubtfully. 'The fact is, we avoid mentioning the subject; -and my unsettled prospects and indifferent circumstances are a great -consolation to them. There will be a deplorable scene, whenever we -are married. It will be much more like a funeral, than a wedding. And -they'll all hate me for taking her away!' - -His honest face, as he looked at me with a serio-comic shake of his -head, impresses me more in the remembrance than it did in the reality, -for I was by this time in a state of such excessive trepidation -and wandering of mind, as to be quite unable to fix my attention on -anything. On our approaching the house where the Misses Spenlow lived, -I was at such a discount in respect of my personal looks and presence of -mind, that Traddles proposed a gentle stimulant in the form of a glass -of ale. This having been administered at a neighbouring public-house, he -conducted me, with tottering steps, to the Misses Spenlow's door. - -I had a vague sensation of being, as it were, on view, when the maid -opened it; and of wavering, somehow, across a hall with a weather-glass -in it, into a quiet little drawing-room on the ground-floor, commanding -a neat garden. Also of sitting down here, on a sofa, and seeing -Traddles's hair start up, now his hat was removed, like one of those -obtrusive little figures made of springs, that fly out of fictitious -snuff-boxes when the lid is taken off. Also of hearing an old-fashioned -clock ticking away on the chimney-piece, and trying to make it keep time -to the jerking of my heart,--which it wouldn't. Also of looking round -the room for any sign of Dora, and seeing none. Also of thinking that -Jip once barked in the distance, and was instantly choked by somebody. -Ultimately I found myself backing Traddles into the fireplace, and -bowing in great confusion to two dry little elderly ladies, dressed in -black, and each looking wonderfully like a preparation in chip or tan of -the late Mr. Spenlow. - -'Pray,' said one of the two little ladies, 'be seated.' - -When I had done tumbling over Traddles, and had sat upon something which -was not a cat--my first seat was--I so far recovered my sight, as to -perceive that Mr. Spenlow had evidently been the youngest of the -family; that there was a disparity of six or eight years between the -two sisters; and that the younger appeared to be the manager of the -conference, inasmuch as she had my letter in her hand--so familiar as -it looked to me, and yet so odd!--and was referring to it through an -eye-glass. They were dressed alike, but this sister wore her dress with -a more youthful air than the other; and perhaps had a trifle more frill, -or tucker, or brooch, or bracelet, or some little thing of that kind, -which made her look more lively. They were both upright in their -carriage, formal, precise, composed, and quiet. The sister who had -not my letter, had her arms crossed on her breast, and resting on each -other, like an Idol. - -'Mr. Copperfield, I believe,' said the sister who had got my letter, -addressing herself to Traddles. - -This was a frightful beginning. Traddles had to indicate that I was Mr. -Copperfield, and I had to lay claim to myself, and they had to divest -themselves of a preconceived opinion that Traddles was Mr. Copperfield, -and altogether we were in a nice condition. To improve it, we all -distinctly heard Jip give two short barks, and receive another choke. - -'Mr. Copperfield!' said the sister with the letter. - -I did something--bowed, I suppose--and was all attention, when the other -sister struck in. - -'My sister Lavinia,' said she 'being conversant with matters of this -nature, will state what we consider most calculated to promote the -happiness of both parties.' - -I discovered afterwards that Miss Lavinia was an authority in affairs -of the heart, by reason of there having anciently existed a certain Mr. -Pidger, who played short whist, and was supposed to have been enamoured -of her. My private opinion is, that this was entirely a gratuitous -assumption, and that Pidger was altogether innocent of any such -sentiments--to which he had never given any sort of expression that -I could ever hear of. Both Miss Lavinia and Miss Clarissa had a -superstition, however, that he would have declared his passion, if he -had not been cut short in his youth (at about sixty) by over-drinking -his constitution, and over-doing an attempt to set it right again by -swilling Bath water. They had a lurking suspicion even, that he died of -secret love; though I must say there was a picture of him in the house -with a damask nose, which concealment did not appear to have ever preyed -upon. - -'We will not,' said Miss Lavinia, 'enter on the past history of this -matter. Our poor brother Francis's death has cancelled that.' - -'We had not,' said Miss Clarissa, 'been in the habit of frequent -association with our brother Francis; but there was no decided division -or disunion between us. Francis took his road; we took ours. We -considered it conducive to the happiness of all parties that it should -be so. And it was so.' - -Each of the sisters leaned a little forward to speak, shook her head -after speaking, and became upright again when silent. Miss Clarissa -never moved her arms. She sometimes played tunes upon them with her -fingers--minuets and marches I should think--but never moved them. - -'Our niece's position, or supposed position, is much changed by our -brother Francis's death,' said Miss Lavinia; 'and therefore we consider -our brother's opinions as regarded her position as being changed too. We -have no reason to doubt, Mr. Copperfield, that you are a young gentleman -possessed of good qualities and honourable character; or that you have -an affection--or are fully persuaded that you have an affection--for our -niece.' - -I replied, as I usually did whenever I had a chance, that nobody had -ever loved anybody else as I loved Dora. Traddles came to my assistance -with a confirmatory murmur. - -Miss Lavinia was going on to make some rejoinder, when Miss Clarissa, -who appeared to be incessantly beset by a desire to refer to her brother -Francis, struck in again: - -'If Dora's mama,' she said, 'when she married our brother Francis, had -at once said that there was not room for the family at the dinner-table, -it would have been better for the happiness of all parties.' - -'Sister Clarissa,' said Miss Lavinia. 'Perhaps we needn't mind that -now.' - -'Sister Lavinia,' said Miss Clarissa, 'it belongs to the subject. With -your branch of the subject, on which alone you are competent to speak, I -should not think of interfering. On this branch of the subject I have a -voice and an opinion. It would have been better for the happiness of -all parties, if Dora's mama, when she married our brother Francis, had -mentioned plainly what her intentions were. We should then have known -what we had to expect. We should have said "Pray do not invite us, -at any time"; and all possibility of misunderstanding would have been -avoided.' - -When Miss Clarissa had shaken her head, Miss Lavinia resumed: again -referring to my letter through her eye-glass. They both had little -bright round twinkling eyes, by the way, which were like birds' eyes. -They were not unlike birds, altogether; having a sharp, brisk, sudden -manner, and a little short, spruce way of adjusting themselves, like -canaries. - -Miss Lavinia, as I have said, resumed: - -'You ask permission of my sister Clarissa and myself, Mr. Copperfield, -to visit here, as the accepted suitor of our niece.' - -'If our brother Francis,' said Miss Clarissa, breaking out again, if I -may call anything so calm a breaking out, 'wished to surround himself -with an atmosphere of Doctors' Commons, and of Doctors' Commons only, -what right or desire had we to object? None, I am sure. We have ever -been far from wishing to obtrude ourselves on anyone. But why not say -so? Let our brother Francis and his wife have their society. Let -my sister Lavinia and myself have our society. We can find it for -ourselves, I hope.' - -As this appeared to be addressed to Traddles and me, both Traddles and -I made some sort of reply. Traddles was inaudible. I think I observed, -myself, that it was highly creditable to all concerned. I don't in the -least know what I meant. - -'Sister Lavinia,' said Miss Clarissa, having now relieved her mind, 'you -can go on, my dear.' - -Miss Lavinia proceeded: - -'Mr. Copperfield, my sister Clarissa and I have been very careful -indeed in considering this letter; and we have not considered it without -finally showing it to our niece, and discussing it with our niece. We -have no doubt that you think you like her very much.' - -'Think, ma'am,' I rapturously began, 'oh!--' - -But Miss Clarissa giving me a look (just like a sharp canary), as -requesting that I would not interrupt the oracle, I begged pardon. - -'Affection,' said Miss Lavinia, glancing at her sister for -corroboration, which she gave in the form of a little nod to every -clause, 'mature affection, homage, devotion, does not easily express -itself. Its voice is low. It is modest and retiring, it lies in ambush, -waits and waits. Such is the mature fruit. Sometimes a life glides away, -and finds it still ripening in the shade.' - -Of course I did not understand then that this was an allusion to her -supposed experience of the stricken Pidger; but I saw, from the gravity -with which Miss Clarissa nodded her head, that great weight was attached -to these words. - -'The light--for I call them, in comparison with such sentiments, the -light--inclinations of very young people,' pursued Miss Lavinia, 'are -dust, compared to rocks. It is owing to the difficulty of knowing -whether they are likely to endure or have any real foundation, that -my sister Clarissa and myself have been very undecided how to act, Mr. -Copperfield, and Mr.--' - -'Traddles,' said my friend, finding himself looked at. - -'I beg pardon. Of the Inner Temple, I believe?' said Miss Clarissa, -again glancing at my letter. - -Traddles said 'Exactly so,' and became pretty red in the face. - -Now, although I had not received any express encouragement as yet, I -fancied that I saw in the two little sisters, and particularly in Miss -Lavinia, an intensified enjoyment of this new and fruitful subject of -domestic interest, a settling down to make the most of it, a disposition -to pet it, in which there was a good bright ray of hope. I thought -I perceived that Miss Lavinia would have uncommon satisfaction in -superintending two young lovers, like Dora and me; and that Miss -Clarissa would have hardly less satisfaction in seeing her superintend -us, and in chiming in with her own particular department of the subject -whenever that impulse was strong upon her. This gave me courage to -protest most vehemently that I loved Dora better than I could tell, or -anyone believe; that all my friends knew how I loved her; that my aunt, -Agnes, Traddles, everyone who knew me, knew how I loved her, and how -earnest my love had made me. For the truth of this, I appealed to -Traddles. And Traddles, firing up as if he were plunging into a -Parliamentary Debate, really did come out nobly: confirming me in good -round terms, and in a plain sensible practical manner, that evidently -made a favourable impression. - -'I speak, if I may presume to say so, as one who has some little -experience of such things,' said Traddles, 'being myself engaged to a -young lady--one of ten, down in Devonshire--and seeing no probability, -at present, of our engagement coming to a termination.' - -'You may be able to confirm what I have said, Mr. Traddles,' observed -Miss Lavinia, evidently taking a new interest in him, 'of the affection -that is modest and retiring; that waits and waits?' - -'Entirely, ma'am,' said Traddles. - -Miss Clarissa looked at Miss Lavinia, and shook her head gravely. Miss -Lavinia looked consciously at Miss Clarissa, and heaved a little sigh. -'Sister Lavinia,' said Miss Clarissa, 'take my smelling-bottle.' - -Miss Lavinia revived herself with a few whiffs of aromatic -vinegar--Traddles and I looking on with great solicitude the while; and -then went on to say, rather faintly: - -'My sister and myself have been in great doubt, Mr. Traddles, what -course we ought to take in reference to the likings, or imaginary -likings, of such very young people as your friend Mr. Copperfield and -our niece.' - -'Our brother Francis's child,' remarked Miss Clarissa. 'If our brother -Francis's wife had found it convenient in her lifetime (though she had -an unquestionable right to act as she thought best) to invite the family -to her dinner-table, we might have known our brother Francis's child -better at the present moment. Sister Lavinia, proceed.' - -Miss Lavinia turned my letter, so as to bring the superscription towards -herself, and referred through her eye-glass to some orderly-looking -notes she had made on that part of it. - -'It seems to us,' said she, 'prudent, Mr. Traddles, to bring these -feelings to the test of our own observation. At present we know nothing -of them, and are not in a situation to judge how much reality there -may be in them. Therefore we are inclined so far to accede to Mr. -Copperfield's proposal, as to admit his visits here.' - -'I shall never, dear ladies,' I exclaimed, relieved of an immense load -of apprehension, 'forget your kindness!' - -'But,' pursued Miss Lavinia,--'but, we would prefer to regard those -visits, Mr. Traddles, as made, at present, to us. We must guard -ourselves from recognizing any positive engagement between Mr. -Copperfield and our niece, until we have had an opportunity--' - -'Until YOU have had an opportunity, sister Lavinia,' said Miss Clarissa. - -'Be it so,' assented Miss Lavinia, with a sigh--'until I have had an -opportunity of observing them.' - -'Copperfield,' said Traddles, turning to me, 'you feel, I am sure, that -nothing could be more reasonable or considerate.' - -'Nothing!' cried I. 'I am deeply sensible of it.' - -'In this position of affairs,' said Miss Lavinia, again referring to -her notes, 'and admitting his visits on this understanding only, we -must require from Mr. Copperfield a distinct assurance, on his word of -honour, that no communication of any kind shall take place between him -and our niece without our knowledge. That no project whatever shall be -entertained with regard to our niece, without being first submitted to -us--' 'To you, sister Lavinia,' Miss Clarissa interposed. - -'Be it so, Clarissa!' assented Miss Lavinia resignedly--'to me--and -receiving our concurrence. We must make this a most express and serious -stipulation, not to be broken on any account. We wished Mr. Copperfield -to be accompanied by some confidential friend today,' with an -inclination of her head towards Traddles, who bowed, 'in order that -there might be no doubt or misconception on this subject. If Mr. -Copperfield, or if you, Mr. Traddles, feel the least scruple, in giving -this promise, I beg you to take time to consider it.' - -I exclaimed, in a state of high ecstatic fervour, that not a moment's -consideration could be necessary. I bound myself by the required -promise, in a most impassioned manner; called upon Traddles to witness -it; and denounced myself as the most atrocious of characters if I ever -swerved from it in the least degree. - -'Stay!' said Miss Lavinia, holding up her hand; 'we resolved, before we -had the pleasure of receiving you two gentlemen, to leave you alone -for a quarter of an hour, to consider this point. You will allow us to -retire.' - -It was in vain for me to say that no consideration was necessary. They -persisted in withdrawing for the specified time. Accordingly, these -little birds hopped out with great dignity; leaving me to receive the -congratulations of Traddles, and to feel as if I were translated to -regions of exquisite happiness. Exactly at the expiration of the -quarter of an hour, they reappeared with no less dignity than they had -disappeared. They had gone rustling away as if their little dresses were -made of autumn-leaves: and they came rustling back, in like manner. - -I then bound myself once more to the prescribed conditions. - -'Sister Clarissa,' said Miss Lavinia, 'the rest is with you.' - -Miss Clarissa, unfolding her arms for the first time, took the notes and -glanced at them. - -'We shall be happy,' said Miss Clarissa, 'to see Mr. Copperfield to -dinner, every Sunday, if it should suit his convenience. Our hour is -three.' - -I bowed. - -'In the course of the week,' said Miss Clarissa, 'we shall be happy to -see Mr. Copperfield to tea. Our hour is half-past six.' - -I bowed again. - -'Twice in the week,' said Miss Clarissa, 'but, as a rule, not oftener.' - -I bowed again. - -'Miss Trotwood,' said Miss Clarissa, 'mentioned in Mr. Copperfield's -letter, will perhaps call upon us. When visiting is better for the -happiness of all parties, we are glad to receive visits, and return -them. When it is better for the happiness of all parties that no -visiting should take place, (as in the case of our brother Francis, and -his establishment) that is quite different.' - -I intimated that my aunt would be proud and delighted to make their -acquaintance; though I must say I was not quite sure of their getting -on very satisfactorily together. The conditions being now closed, I -expressed my acknowledgements in the warmest manner; and, taking the -hand, first of Miss Clarissa, and then of Miss Lavinia, pressed it, in -each case, to my lips. - -Miss Lavinia then arose, and begging Mr. Traddles to excuse us for a -minute, requested me to follow her. I obeyed, all in a tremble, and was -conducted into another room. There I found my blessed darling stopping -her ears behind the door, with her dear little face against the wall; -and Jip in the plate-warmer with his head tied up in a towel. - -Oh! How beautiful she was in her black frock, and how she sobbed and -cried at first, and wouldn't come out from behind the door! How fond we -were of one another, when she did come out at last; and what a state of -bliss I was in, when we took Jip out of the plate-warmer, and restored -him to the light, sneezing very much, and were all three reunited! - -'My dearest Dora! Now, indeed, my own for ever!' - -'Oh, DON'T!' pleaded Dora. 'Please!' - -'Are you not my own for ever, Dora?' - -'Oh yes, of course I am!' cried Dora, 'but I am so frightened!' - -'Frightened, my own?' - -'Oh yes! I don't like him,' said Dora. 'Why don't he go?' - -'Who, my life?' - -'Your friend,' said Dora. 'It isn't any business of his. What a stupid -he must be!' - -'My love!' (There never was anything so coaxing as her childish ways.) -'He is the best creature!' - -'Oh, but we don't want any best creatures!' pouted Dora. - -'My dear,' I argued, 'you will soon know him well, and like him of all -things. And here is my aunt coming soon; and you'll like her of all -things too, when you know her.' - -'No, please don't bring her!' said Dora, giving me a horrified -little kiss, and folding her hands. 'Don't. I know she's a naughty, -mischief-making old thing! Don't let her come here, Doady!' which was a -corruption of David. - -Remonstrance was of no use, then; so I laughed, and admired, and was -very much in love and very happy; and she showed me Jip's new trick of -standing on his hind legs in a corner--which he did for about the space -of a flash of lightning, and then fell down--and I don't know how long I -should have stayed there, oblivious of Traddles, if Miss Lavinia had not -come in to take me away. Miss Lavinia was very fond of Dora (she told -me Dora was exactly like what she had been herself at her age--she must -have altered a good deal), and she treated Dora just as if she had been -a toy. I wanted to persuade Dora to come and see Traddles, but on my -proposing it she ran off to her own room and locked herself in; so I -went to Traddles without her, and walked away with him on air. - -'Nothing could be more satisfactory,' said Traddles; 'and they are very -agreeable old ladies, I am sure. I shouldn't be at all surprised if you -were to be married years before me, Copperfield.' - -'Does your Sophy play on any instrument, Traddles?' I inquired, in the -pride of my heart. - -'She knows enough of the piano to teach it to her little sisters,' said -Traddles. - -'Does she sing at all?' I asked. - -'Why, she sings ballads, sometimes, to freshen up the others a little -when they're out of spirits,' said Traddles. 'Nothing scientific.' - -'She doesn't sing to the guitar?' said I. - -'Oh dear no!' said Traddles. - -'Paint at all?' - -'Not at all,' said Traddles. - -I promised Traddles that he should hear Dora sing, and see some of her -flower-painting. He said he should like it very much, and we went home -arm in arm in great good humour and delight. I encouraged him to talk -about Sophy, on the way; which he did with a loving reliance on her -that I very much admired. I compared her in my mind with Dora, with -considerable inward satisfaction; but I candidly admitted to myself that -she seemed to be an excellent kind of girl for Traddles, too. - -Of course my aunt was immediately made acquainted with the successful -issue of the conference, and with all that had been said and done in the -course of it. She was happy to see me so happy, and promised to call on -Dora's aunts without loss of time. But she took such a long walk up and -down our rooms that night, while I was writing to Agnes, that I began to -think she meant to walk till morning. - -My letter to Agnes was a fervent and grateful one, narrating all the -good effects that had resulted from my following her advice. She wrote, -by return of post, to me. Her letter was hopeful, earnest, and cheerful. -She was always cheerful from that time. - -I had my hands more full than ever, now. My daily journeys to Highgate -considered, Putney was a long way off; and I naturally wanted to go -there as often as I could. The proposed tea-drinkings being quite -impracticable, I compounded with Miss Lavinia for permission to visit -every Saturday afternoon, without detriment to my privileged Sundays. -So, the close of every week was a delicious time for me; and I got -through the rest of the week by looking forward to it. - -I was wonderfully relieved to find that my aunt and Dora's aunts -rubbed on, all things considered, much more smoothly than I could have -expected. My aunt made her promised visit within a few days of the -conference; and within a few more days, Dora's aunts called upon her, -in due state and form. Similar but more friendly exchanges took place -afterwards, usually at intervals of three or four weeks. I know that my -aunt distressed Dora's aunts very much, by utterly setting at naught the -dignity of fly-conveyance, and walking out to Putney at extraordinary -times, as shortly after breakfast or just before tea; likewise by -wearing her bonnet in any manner that happened to be comfortable to her -head, without at all deferring to the prejudices of civilization on that -subject. But Dora's aunts soon agreed to regard my aunt as an eccentric -and somewhat masculine lady, with a strong understanding; and although -my aunt occasionally ruffled the feathers of Dora's aunts, by expressing -heretical opinions on various points of ceremony, she loved me too -well not to sacrifice some of her little peculiarities to the general -harmony. - -The only member of our small society who positively refused to adapt -himself to circumstances, was Jip. He never saw my aunt without -immediately displaying every tooth in his head, retiring under a chair, -and growling incessantly: with now and then a doleful howl, as if she -really were too much for his feelings. All kinds of treatment were tried -with him, coaxing, scolding, slapping, bringing him to Buckingham -Street (where he instantly dashed at the two cats, to the terror of all -beholders); but he never could prevail upon himself to bear my -aunt's society. He would sometimes think he had got the better of his -objection, and be amiable for a few minutes; and then would put up his -snub nose, and howl to that extent, that there was nothing for it but -to blind him and put him in the plate-warmer. At length, Dora regularly -muffled him in a towel and shut him up there, whenever my aunt was -reported at the door. - -One thing troubled me much, after we had fallen into this quiet train. -It was, that Dora seemed by one consent to be regarded like a pretty toy -or plaything. My aunt, with whom she gradually became familiar, always -called her Little Blossom; and the pleasure of Miss Lavinia's life was -to wait upon her, curl her hair, make ornaments for her, and treat her -like a pet child. What Miss Lavinia did, her sister did as a matter of -course. It was very odd to me; but they all seemed to treat Dora, in her -degree, much as Dora treated Jip in his. - -I made up my mind to speak to Dora about this; and one day when we were -out walking (for we were licensed by Miss Lavinia, after a while, to -go out walking by ourselves), I said to her that I wished she could get -them to behave towards her differently. - -'Because you know, my darling,' I remonstrated, 'you are not a child.' - -'There!' said Dora. 'Now you're going to be cross!' - -'Cross, my love?' - -'I am sure they're very kind to me,' said Dora, 'and I am very happy--' - -'Well! But my dearest life!' said I, 'you might be very happy, and yet -be treated rationally.' - -Dora gave me a reproachful look--the prettiest look!--and then began to -sob, saying, if I didn't like her, why had I ever wanted so much to be -engaged to her? And why didn't I go away, now, if I couldn't bear her? - -What could I do, but kiss away her tears, and tell her how I doted on -her, after that! - -'I am sure I am very affectionate,' said Dora; 'you oughtn't to be cruel -to me, Doady!' - -'Cruel, my precious love! As if I would--or could--be cruel to you, for -the world!' - -'Then don't find fault with me,' said Dora, making a rosebud of her -mouth; 'and I'll be good.' - -I was charmed by her presently asking me, of her own accord, to give -her that cookery-book I had once spoken of, and to show her how to keep -accounts as I had once promised I would. I brought the volume with me on -my next visit (I got it prettily bound, first, to make it look less dry -and more inviting); and as we strolled about the Common, I showed her an -old housekeeping-book of my aunt's, and gave her a set of tablets, and -a pretty little pencil-case and box of leads, to practise housekeeping -with. - -But the cookery-book made Dora's head ache, and the figures made her -cry. They wouldn't add up, she said. So she rubbed them out, and drew -little nosegays and likenesses of me and Jip, all over the tablets. - -Then I playfully tried verbal instruction in domestic matters, as we -walked about on a Saturday afternoon. Sometimes, for example, when we -passed a butcher's shop, I would say: - -'Now suppose, my pet, that we were married, and you were going to buy a -shoulder of mutton for dinner, would you know how to buy it?' - -My pretty little Dora's face would fall, and she would make her mouth -into a bud again, as if she would very much prefer to shut mine with a -kiss. - -'Would you know how to buy it, my darling?' I would repeat, perhaps, if -I were very inflexible. - -Dora would think a little, and then reply, perhaps, with great triumph: - -'Why, the butcher would know how to sell it, and what need I know? Oh, -you silly boy!' - -So, when I once asked Dora, with an eye to the cookery-book, what she -would do, if we were married, and I were to say I should like a nice -Irish stew, she replied that she would tell the servant to make it; and -then clapped her little hands together across my arm, and laughed in -such a charming manner that she was more delightful than ever. - -Consequently, the principal use to which the cookery-book was devoted, -was being put down in the corner for Jip to stand upon. But Dora was so -pleased, when she had trained him to stand upon it without offering to -come off, and at the same time to hold the pencil-case in his mouth, -that I was very glad I had bought it. - -And we fell back on the guitar-case, and the flower-painting, and the -songs about never leaving off dancing, Ta ra la! and were as happy as -the week was long. I occasionally wished I could venture to hint to Miss -Lavinia, that she treated the darling of my heart a little too much like -a plaything; and I sometimes awoke, as it were, wondering to find that -I had fallen into the general fault, and treated her like a plaything -too--but not often. - - - -CHAPTER 42. MISCHIEF - -I feel as if it were not for me to record, even though this manuscript -is intended for no eyes but mine, how hard I worked at that tremendous -short-hand, and all improvement appertaining to it, in my sense of -responsibility to Dora and her aunts. I will only add, to what I have -already written of my perseverance at this time of my life, and of a -patient and continuous energy which then began to be matured within me, -and which I know to be the strong part of my character, if it have any -strength at all, that there, on looking back, I find the source of my -success. I have been very fortunate in worldly matters; many men have -worked much harder, and not succeeded half so well; but I never could -have done what I have done, without the habits of punctuality, order, -and diligence, without the determination to concentrate myself on one -object at a time, no matter how quickly its successor should come upon -its heels, which I then formed. Heaven knows I write this, in no spirit -of self-laudation. The man who reviews his own life, as I do mine, -in going on here, from page to page, had need to have been a good man -indeed, if he would be spared the sharp consciousness of many talents -neglected, many opportunities wasted, many erratic and perverted -feelings constantly at war within his breast, and defeating him. I -do not hold one natural gift, I dare say, that I have not abused. My -meaning simply is, that whatever I have tried to do in life, I have -tried with all my heart to do well; that whatever I have devoted myself -to, I have devoted myself to completely; that in great aims and in -small, I have always been thoroughly in earnest. I have never believed -it possible that any natural or improved ability can claim immunity from -the companionship of the steady, plain, hard-working qualities, and -hope to gain its end. There is no such thing as such fulfilment on this -earth. Some happy talent, and some fortunate opportunity, may form the -two sides of the ladder on which some men mount, but the rounds of that -ladder must be made of stuff to stand wear and tear; and there is no -substitute for thorough-going, ardent, and sincere earnestness. Never -to put one hand to anything, on which I could throw my whole self; and -never to affect depreciation of my work, whatever it was; I find, now, -to have been my golden rules. - -How much of the practice I have just reduced to precept, I owe to Agnes, -I will not repeat here. My narrative proceeds to Agnes, with a thankful -love. - -She came on a visit of a fortnight to the Doctor's. Mr. Wickfield was -the Doctor's old friend, and the Doctor wished to talk with him, and -do him good. It had been matter of conversation with Agnes when she was -last in town, and this visit was the result. She and her father came -together. I was not much surprised to hear from her that she had engaged -to find a lodging in the neighbourhood for Mrs. Heep, whose rheumatic -complaint required change of air, and who would be charmed to have it in -such company. Neither was I surprised when, on the very next day, Uriah, -like a dutiful son, brought his worthy mother to take possession. - -'You see, Master Copperfield,' said he, as he forced himself upon my -company for a turn in the Doctor's garden, 'where a person loves, a -person is a little jealous--leastways, anxious to keep an eye on the -beloved one.' - -'Of whom are you jealous, now?' said I. - -'Thanks to you, Master Copperfield,' he returned, 'of no one in -particular just at present--no male person, at least.' - -'Do you mean that you are jealous of a female person?' - -He gave me a sidelong glance out of his sinister red eyes, and laughed. - -'Really, Master Copperfield,' he said, '--I should say Mister, but I -know you'll excuse the abit I've got into--you're so insinuating, that -you draw me like a corkscrew! Well, I don't mind telling you,' putting -his fish-like hand on mine, 'I'm not a lady's man in general, sir, and I -never was, with Mrs. Strong.' - -His eyes looked green now, as they watched mine with a rascally cunning. - -'What do you mean?' said I. - -'Why, though I am a lawyer, Master Copperfield,' he replied, with a dry -grin, 'I mean, just at present, what I say.' - -'And what do you mean by your look?' I retorted, quietly. - -'By my look? Dear me, Copperfield, that's sharp practice! What do I mean -by my look?' - -'Yes,' said I. 'By your look.' - -He seemed very much amused, and laughed as heartily as it was in his -nature to laugh. After some scraping of his chin with his hand, he went -on to say, with his eyes cast downward--still scraping, very slowly: - -'When I was but an umble clerk, she always looked down upon me. She was -for ever having my Agnes backwards and forwards at her ouse, and she was -for ever being a friend to you, Master Copperfield; but I was too far -beneath her, myself, to be noticed.' - -'Well?' said I; 'suppose you were!' - -'--And beneath him too,' pursued Uriah, very distinctly, and in a -meditative tone of voice, as he continued to scrape his chin. - -'Don't you know the Doctor better,' said I, 'than to suppose him -conscious of your existence, when you were not before him?' - -He directed his eyes at me in that sidelong glance again, and he made -his face very lantern-jawed, for the greater convenience of scraping, as -he answered: - -'Oh dear, I am not referring to the Doctor! Oh no, poor man! I mean Mr. -Maldon!' - -My heart quite died within me. All my old doubts and apprehensions on -that subject, all the Doctor's happiness and peace, all the mingled -possibilities of innocence and compromise, that I could not unravel, I -saw, in a moment, at the mercy of this fellow's twisting. - -'He never could come into the office, without ordering and shoving me -about,' said Uriah. 'One of your fine gentlemen he was! I was very meek -and umble--and I am. But I didn't like that sort of thing--and I don't!' - -He left off scraping his chin, and sucked in his cheeks until they -seemed to meet inside; keeping his sidelong glance upon me all the -while. - -'She is one of your lovely women, she is,' he pursued, when he had -slowly restored his face to its natural form; 'and ready to be no friend -to such as me, I know. She's just the person as would put my Agnes up -to higher sort of game. Now, I ain't one of your lady's men, Master -Copperfield; but I've had eyes in my ed, a pretty long time back. We -umble ones have got eyes, mostly speaking--and we look out of 'em.' - -I endeavoured to appear unconscious and not disquieted, but, I saw in -his face, with poor success. - -'Now, I'm not a-going to let myself be run down, Copperfield,' he -continued, raising that part of his countenance, where his red eyebrows -would have been if he had had any, with malignant triumph, 'and I shall -do what I can to put a stop to this friendship. I don't approve of it. -I don't mind acknowledging to you that I've got rather a grudging -disposition, and want to keep off all intruders. I ain't a-going, if I -know it, to run the risk of being plotted against.' - -'You are always plotting, and delude yourself into the belief that -everybody else is doing the like, I think,' said I. - -'Perhaps so, Master Copperfield,' he replied. 'But I've got a motive, as -my fellow-partner used to say; and I go at it tooth and nail. I mustn't -be put upon, as a numble person, too much. I can't allow people in my -way. Really they must come out of the cart, Master Copperfield!' - -'I don't understand you,' said I. - -'Don't you, though?' he returned, with one of his jerks. 'I'm astonished -at that, Master Copperfield, you being usually so quick! I'll try to be -plainer, another time.---Is that Mr. Maldon a-norseback, ringing at the -gate, sir?' - -'It looks like him,' I replied, as carelessly as I could. - -Uriah stopped short, put his hands between his great knobs of knees, and -doubled himself up with laughter. With perfectly silent laughter. Not -a sound escaped from him. I was so repelled by his odious behaviour, -particularly by this concluding instance, that I turned away without any -ceremony; and left him doubled up in the middle of the garden, like a -scarecrow in want of support. - -It was not on that evening; but, as I well remember, on the next evening -but one, which was a Sunday; that I took Agnes to see Dora. I had -arranged the visit, beforehand, with Miss Lavinia; and Agnes was -expected to tea. - -I was in a flutter of pride and anxiety; pride in my dear little -betrothed, and anxiety that Agnes should like her. All the way to -Putney, Agnes being inside the stage-coach, and I outside, I pictured -Dora to myself in every one of the pretty looks I knew so well; now -making up my mind that I should like her to look exactly as she looked -at such a time, and then doubting whether I should not prefer her -looking as she looked at such another time; and almost worrying myself -into a fever about it. - -I was troubled by no doubt of her being very pretty, in any case; but -it fell out that I had never seen her look so well. She was not in the -drawing-room when I presented Agnes to her little aunts, but was shyly -keeping out of the way. I knew where to look for her, now; and sure -enough I found her stopping her ears again, behind the same dull old -door. - -At first she wouldn't come at all; and then she pleaded for five minutes -by my watch. When at length she put her arm through mine, to be taken -to the drawing-room, her charming little face was flushed, and had never -been so pretty. But, when we went into the room, and it turned pale, she -was ten thousand times prettier yet. - -Dora was afraid of Agnes. She had told me that she knew Agnes was -'too clever'. But when she saw her looking at once so cheerful and so -earnest, and so thoughtful, and so good, she gave a faint little cry of -pleased surprise, and just put her affectionate arms round Agnes's neck, -and laid her innocent cheek against her face. - -I never was so happy. I never was so pleased as when I saw those two sit -down together, side by side. As when I saw my little darling looking up -so naturally to those cordial eyes. As when I saw the tender, beautiful -regard which Agnes cast upon her. - -Miss Lavinia and Miss Clarissa partook, in their way, of my joy. It was -the pleasantest tea-table in the world. Miss Clarissa presided. I cut -and handed the sweet seed-cake--the little sisters had a bird-like -fondness for picking up seeds and pecking at sugar; Miss Lavinia looked -on with benignant patronage, as if our happy love were all her work; and -we were perfectly contented with ourselves and one another. - -The gentle cheerfulness of Agnes went to all their hearts. Her quiet -interest in everything that interested Dora; her manner of making -acquaintance with Jip (who responded instantly); her pleasant way, when -Dora was ashamed to come over to her usual seat by me; her modest grace -and ease, eliciting a crowd of blushing little marks of confidence from -Dora; seemed to make our circle quite complete. - -'I am so glad,' said Dora, after tea, 'that you like me. I didn't think -you would; and I want, more than ever, to be liked, now Julia Mills is -gone.' - -I have omitted to mention it, by the by. Miss Mills had sailed, and Dora -and I had gone aboard a great East Indiaman at Gravesend to see her; -and we had had preserved ginger, and guava, and other delicacies of that -sort for lunch; and we had left Miss Mills weeping on a camp-stool on -the quarter-deck, with a large new diary under her arm, in which the -original reflections awakened by the contemplation of Ocean were to be -recorded under lock and key. - -Agnes said she was afraid I must have given her an unpromising -character; but Dora corrected that directly. - -'Oh no!' she said, shaking her curls at me; 'it was all praise. He -thinks so much of your opinion, that I was quite afraid of it.' - -'My good opinion cannot strengthen his attachment to some people whom he -knows,' said Agnes, with a smile; 'it is not worth their having.' - -'But please let me have it,' said Dora, in her coaxing way, 'if you -can!' - -We made merry about Dora's wanting to be liked, and Dora said I was a -goose, and she didn't like me at any rate, and the short evening flew -away on gossamer-wings. The time was at hand when the coach was to call -for us. I was standing alone before the fire, when Dora came stealing -softly in, to give me that usual precious little kiss before I went. - -'Don't you think, if I had had her for a friend a long time ago, Doady,' -said Dora, her bright eyes shining very brightly, and her little right -hand idly busying itself with one of the buttons of my coat, 'I might -have been more clever perhaps?' - -'My love!' said I, 'what nonsense!' - -'Do you think it is nonsense?' returned Dora, without looking at me. -'Are you sure it is?' - -'Of course I am!' 'I have forgotten,' said Dora, still turning the -button round and round, 'what relation Agnes is to you, you dear bad -boy.' - -'No blood-relation,' I replied; 'but we were brought up together, like -brother and sister.' - -'I wonder why you ever fell in love with me?' said Dora, beginning on -another button of my coat. - -'Perhaps because I couldn't see you, and not love you, Dora!' - -'Suppose you had never seen me at all,' said Dora, going to another -button. - -'Suppose we had never been born!' said I, gaily. - -I wondered what she was thinking about, as I glanced in admiring silence -at the little soft hand travelling up the row of buttons on my coat, and -at the clustering hair that lay against my breast, and at the lashes of -her downcast eyes, slightly rising as they followed her idle fingers. At -length her eyes were lifted up to mine, and she stood on tiptoe to -give me, more thoughtfully than usual, that precious little kiss--once, -twice, three times--and went out of the room. - -They all came back together within five minutes afterwards, and Dora's -unusual thoughtfulness was quite gone then. She was laughingly resolved -to put Jip through the whole of his performances, before the coach came. -They took some time (not so much on account of their variety, as Jip's -reluctance), and were still unfinished when it was heard at the door. -There was a hurried but affectionate parting between Agnes and herself; -and Dora was to write to Agnes (who was not to mind her letters being -foolish, she said), and Agnes was to write to Dora; and they had a -second parting at the coach door, and a third when Dora, in spite of -the remonstrances of Miss Lavinia, would come running out once more to -remind Agnes at the coach window about writing, and to shake her curls -at me on the box. - -The stage-coach was to put us down near Covent Garden, where we were -to take another stage-coach for Highgate. I was impatient for the short -walk in the interval, that Agnes might praise Dora to me. Ah! what -praise it was! How lovingly and fervently did it commend the pretty -creature I had won, with all her artless graces best displayed, to my -most gentle care! How thoughtfully remind me, yet with no pretence of -doing so, of the trust in which I held the orphan child! - -Never, never, had I loved Dora so deeply and truly, as I loved her that -night. When we had again alighted, and were walking in the starlight -along the quiet road that led to the Doctor's house, I told Agnes it was -her doing. - -'When you were sitting by her,' said I, 'you seemed to be no less her -guardian angel than mine; and you seem so now, Agnes.' - -'A poor angel,' she returned, 'but faithful.' - -The clear tone of her voice, going straight to my heart, made it natural -to me to say: - -'The cheerfulness that belongs to you, Agnes (and to no one else that -ever I have seen), is so restored, I have observed today, that I have -begun to hope you are happier at home?' - -'I am happier in myself,' she said; 'I am quite cheerful and -light-hearted.' - -I glanced at the serene face looking upward, and thought it was the -stars that made it seem so noble. - -'There has been no change at home,' said Agnes, after a few moments. - -'No fresh reference,' said I, 'to--I wouldn't distress you, Agnes, but I -cannot help asking--to what we spoke of, when we parted last?' - -'No, none,' she answered. - -'I have thought so much about it.' - -'You must think less about it. Remember that I confide in simple love -and truth at last. Have no apprehensions for me, Trotwood,' she added, -after a moment; 'the step you dread my taking, I shall never take.' - -Although I think I had never really feared it, in any season of cool -reflection, it was an unspeakable relief to me to have this assurance -from her own truthful lips. I told her so, earnestly. - -'And when this visit is over,' said I,--'for we may not be alone another -time,--how long is it likely to be, my dear Agnes, before you come to -London again?' - -'Probably a long time,' she replied; 'I think it will be best--for -papa's sake--to remain at home. We are not likely to meet often, for -some time to come; but I shall be a good correspondent of Dora's, and we -shall frequently hear of one another that way.' - -We were now within the little courtyard of the Doctor's cottage. It was -growing late. There was a light in the window of Mrs. Strong's chamber, -and Agnes, pointing to it, bade me good night. - -'Do not be troubled,' she said, giving me her hand, 'by our misfortunes -and anxieties. I can be happier in nothing than in your happiness. If -you can ever give me help, rely upon it I will ask you for it. God -bless you always!' In her beaming smile, and in these last tones of her -cheerful voice, I seemed again to see and hear my little Dora in her -company. I stood awhile, looking through the porch at the stars, with -a heart full of love and gratitude, and then walked slowly forth. I had -engaged a bed at a decent alehouse close by, and was going out at the -gate, when, happening to turn my head, I saw a light in the Doctor's -study. A half-reproachful fancy came into my mind, that he had been -working at the Dictionary without my help. With the view of seeing if -this were so, and, in any case, of bidding him good night, if he were -yet sitting among his books, I turned back, and going softly across the -hall, and gently opening the door, looked in. - -The first person whom I saw, to my surprise, by the sober light of the -shaded lamp, was Uriah. He was standing close beside it, with one of -his skeleton hands over his mouth, and the other resting on the Doctor's -table. The Doctor sat in his study chair, covering his face with his -hands. Mr. Wickfield, sorely troubled and distressed, was leaning -forward, irresolutely touching the Doctor's arm. - -For an instant, I supposed that the Doctor was ill. I hastily advanced a -step under that impression, when I met Uriah's eye, and saw what was the -matter. I would have withdrawn, but the Doctor made a gesture to detain -me, and I remained. - -'At any rate,' observed Uriah, with a writhe of his ungainly person, 'we -may keep the door shut. We needn't make it known to ALL the town.' - -Saying which, he went on his toes to the door, which I had left open, -and carefully closed it. He then came back, and took up his former -position. There was an obtrusive show of compassionate zeal in his voice -and manner, more intolerable--at least to me--than any demeanour he -could have assumed. - -'I have felt it incumbent upon me, Master Copperfield,' said Uriah, 'to -point out to Doctor Strong what you and me have already talked about. -You didn't exactly understand me, though?' - -I gave him a look, but no other answer; and, going to my good old -master, said a few words that I meant to be words of comfort and -encouragement. He put his hand upon my shoulder, as it had been his -custom to do when I was quite a little fellow, but did not lift his grey -head. - -'As you didn't understand me, Master Copperfield,' resumed Uriah in -the same officious manner, 'I may take the liberty of umbly mentioning, -being among friends, that I have called Doctor Strong's attention to the -goings-on of Mrs. Strong. It's much against the grain with me, I assure -you, Copperfield, to be concerned in anything so unpleasant; but really, -as it is, we're all mixing ourselves up with what oughtn't to be. That -was what my meaning was, sir, when you didn't understand me.' I wonder -now, when I recall his leer, that I did not collar him, and try to shake -the breath out of his body. - -'I dare say I didn't make myself very clear,' he went on, 'nor you -neither. Naturally, we was both of us inclined to give such a subject -a wide berth. Hows'ever, at last I have made up my mind to speak plain; -and I have mentioned to Doctor Strong that--did you speak, sir?' - -This was to the Doctor, who had moaned. The sound might have touched any -heart, I thought, but it had no effect upon Uriah's. - -'--mentioned to Doctor Strong,' he proceeded, 'that anyone may see that -Mr. Maldon, and the lovely and agreeable lady as is Doctor Strong's -wife, are too sweet on one another. Really the time is come (we being at -present all mixing ourselves up with what oughtn't to be), when Doctor -Strong must be told that this was full as plain to everybody as the sun, -before Mr. Maldon went to India; that Mr. Maldon made excuses to come -back, for nothing else; and that he's always here, for nothing else. -When you come in, sir, I was just putting it to my fellow-partner,' -towards whom he turned, 'to say to Doctor Strong upon his word and -honour, whether he'd ever been of this opinion long ago, or not. Come, -Mr. Wickfield, sir! Would you be so good as tell us? Yes or no, sir? -Come, partner!' - -'For God's sake, my dear Doctor,' said Mr. Wickfield again laying his -irresolute hand upon the Doctor's arm, 'don't attach too much weight to -any suspicions I may have entertained.' - -'There!' cried Uriah, shaking his head. 'What a melancholy confirmation: -ain't it? Him! Such an old friend! Bless your soul, when I was nothing -but a clerk in his office, Copperfield, I've seen him twenty times, if -I've seen him once, quite in a taking about it--quite put out, you know -(and very proper in him as a father; I'm sure I can't blame him), to -think that Miss Agnes was mixing herself up with what oughtn't to be.' - -'My dear Strong,' said Mr. Wickfield in a tremulous voice, 'my good -friend, I needn't tell you that it has been my vice to look for some one -master motive in everybody, and to try all actions by one narrow test. I -may have fallen into such doubts as I have had, through this mistake.' - -'You have had doubts, Wickfield,' said the Doctor, without lifting up -his head. 'You have had doubts.' - -'Speak up, fellow-partner,' urged Uriah. - -'I had, at one time, certainly,' said Mr. Wickfield. 'I--God forgive -me--I thought YOU had.' - -'No, no, no!' returned the Doctor, in a tone of most pathetic grief. -'I thought, at one time,' said Mr. Wickfield, 'that you wished to send -Maldon abroad to effect a desirable separation.' - -'No, no, no!' returned the Doctor. 'To give Annie pleasure, by making -some provision for the companion of her childhood. Nothing else.' - -'So I found,' said Mr. Wickfield. 'I couldn't doubt it, when you told -me so. But I thought--I implore you to remember the narrow construction -which has been my besetting sin--that, in a case where there was so much -disparity in point of years--' - -'That's the way to put it, you see, Master Copperfield!' observed Uriah, -with fawning and offensive pity. - -'--a lady of such youth, and such attractions, however real her -respect for you, might have been influenced in marrying, by worldly -considerations only. I make no allowance for innumerable feelings -and circumstances that may have all tended to good. For Heaven's sake -remember that!' - -'How kind he puts it!' said Uriah, shaking his head. - -'Always observing her from one point of view,' said Mr. Wickfield; 'but -by all that is dear to you, my old friend, I entreat you to consider -what it was; I am forced to confess now, having no escape-' - -'No! There's no way out of it, Mr. Wickfield, sir,' observed Uriah, -'when it's got to this.' - -'--that I did,' said Mr. Wickfield, glancing helplessly and distractedly -at his partner, 'that I did doubt her, and think her wanting in her -duty to you; and that I did sometimes, if I must say all, feel averse -to Agnes being in such a familiar relation towards her, as to see what I -saw, or in my diseased theory fancied that I saw. I never mentioned -this to anyone. I never meant it to be known to anyone. And though it -is terrible to you to hear,' said Mr. Wickfield, quite subdued, 'if you -knew how terrible it is for me to tell, you would feel compassion for -me!' - -The Doctor, in the perfect goodness of his nature, put out his hand. Mr. -Wickfield held it for a little while in his, with his head bowed down. - -'I am sure,' said Uriah, writhing himself into the silence like a -Conger-eel, 'that this is a subject full of unpleasantness to everybody. -But since we have got so far, I ought to take the liberty of mentioning -that Copperfield has noticed it too.' - -I turned upon him, and asked him how he dared refer to me! - -'Oh! it's very kind of you, Copperfield,' returned Uriah, undulating all -over, 'and we all know what an amiable character yours is; but you know -that the moment I spoke to you the other night, you knew what I meant. -You know you knew what I meant, Copperfield. Don't deny it! You deny it -with the best intentions; but don't do it, Copperfield.' - -I saw the mild eye of the good old Doctor turned upon me for a moment, -and I felt that the confession of my old misgivings and remembrances -was too plainly written in my face to be overlooked. It was of no use -raging. I could not undo that. Say what I would, I could not unsay it. - -We were silent again, and remained so, until the Doctor rose and walked -twice or thrice across the room. Presently he returned to where his -chair stood; and, leaning on the back of it, and occasionally putting -his handkerchief to his eyes, with a simple honesty that did him more -honour, to my thinking, than any disguise he could have effected, said: - -'I have been much to blame. I believe I have been very much to blame. -I have exposed one whom I hold in my heart, to trials and aspersions--I -call them aspersions, even to have been conceived in anybody's inmost -mind--of which she never, but for me, could have been the object.' - -Uriah Heep gave a kind of snivel. I think to express sympathy. - -'Of which my Annie,' said the Doctor, 'never, but for me, could have -been the object. Gentlemen, I am old now, as you know; I do not feel, -tonight, that I have much to live for. But my life--my Life--upon the -truth and honour of the dear lady who has been the subject of this -conversation!' - -I do not think that the best embodiment of chivalry, the realization of -the handsomest and most romantic figure ever imagined by painter, could -have said this, with a more impressive and affecting dignity than the -plain old Doctor did. - -'But I am not prepared,' he went on, 'to deny--perhaps I may have been, -without knowing it, in some degree prepared to admit--that I may have -unwittingly ensnared that lady into an unhappy marriage. I am a man -quite unaccustomed to observe; and I cannot but believe that the -observation of several people, of different ages and positions, all too -plainly tending in one direction (and that so natural), is better than -mine.' - -I had often admired, as I have elsewhere described, his benignant manner -towards his youthful wife; but the respectful tenderness he manifested -in every reference to her on this occasion, and the almost reverential -manner in which he put away from him the lightest doubt of her -integrity, exalted him, in my eyes, beyond description. - -'I married that lady,' said the Doctor, 'when she was extremely young. I -took her to myself when her character was scarcely formed. So far as it -was developed, it had been my happiness to form it. I knew her father -well. I knew her well. I had taught her what I could, for the love of -all her beautiful and virtuous qualities. If I did her wrong; as I fear -I did, in taking advantage (but I never meant it) of her gratitude and -her affection; I ask pardon of that lady, in my heart!' - -He walked across the room, and came back to the same place; holding -the chair with a grasp that trembled, like his subdued voice, in its -earnestness. - -'I regarded myself as a refuge, for her, from the dangers and -vicissitudes of life. I persuaded myself that, unequal though we were in -years, she would live tranquilly and contentedly with me. I did not shut -out of my consideration the time when I should leave her free, and still -young and still beautiful, but with her judgement more matured--no, -gentlemen--upon my truth!' - -His homely figure seemed to be lightened up by his fidelity and -generosity. Every word he uttered had a force that no other grace could -have imparted to it. - -'My life with this lady has been very happy. Until tonight, I have -had uninterrupted occasion to bless the day on which I did her great -injustice.' - -His voice, more and more faltering in the utterance of these words, -stopped for a few moments; then he went on: - -'Once awakened from my dream--I have been a poor dreamer, in one way or -other, all my life--I see how natural it is that she should have some -regretful feeling towards her old companion and her equal. That she does -regard him with some innocent regret, with some blameless thoughts of -what might have been, but for me, is, I fear, too true. Much that I have -seen, but not noted, has come back upon me with new meaning, during -this last trying hour. But, beyond this, gentlemen, the dear lady's name -never must be coupled with a word, a breath, of doubt.' - -For a little while, his eye kindled and his voice was firm; for a little -while he was again silent. Presently, he proceeded as before: - -'It only remains for me, to bear the knowledge of the unhappiness I have -occasioned, as submissively as I can. It is she who should reproach; not -I. To save her from misconstruction, cruel misconstruction, that even my -friends have not been able to avoid, becomes my duty. The more retired -we live, the better I shall discharge it. And when the time comes--may -it come soon, if it be His merciful pleasure!--when my death shall -release her from constraint, I shall close my eyes upon her honoured -face, with unbounded confidence and love; and leave her, with no sorrow -then, to happier and brighter days.' - -I could not see him for the tears which his earnestness and goodness, -so adorned by, and so adorning, the perfect simplicity of his manner, -brought into my eyes. He had moved to the door, when he added: - -'Gentlemen, I have shown you my heart. I am sure you will respect it. -What we have said tonight is never to be said more. Wickfield, give me -an old friend's arm upstairs!' - -Mr. Wickfield hastened to him. Without interchanging a word they went -slowly out of the room together, Uriah looking after them. - -'Well, Master Copperfield!' said Uriah, meekly turning to me. 'The thing -hasn't took quite the turn that might have been expected, for the old -Scholar--what an excellent man!--is as blind as a brickbat; but this -family's out of the cart, I think!' - -I needed but the sound of his voice to be so madly enraged as I never -was before, and never have been since. - -'You villain,' said I, 'what do you mean by entrapping me into your -schemes? How dare you appeal to me just now, you false rascal, as if we -had been in discussion together?' - -As we stood, front to front, I saw so plainly, in the stealthy -exultation of his face, what I already so plainly knew; I mean that he -forced his confidence upon me, expressly to make me miserable, and had -set a deliberate trap for me in this very matter; that I couldn't bear -it. The whole of his lank cheek was invitingly before me, and I struck -it with my open hand with that force that my fingers tingled as if I had -burnt them. - -He caught the hand in his, and we stood in that connexion, looking at -each other. We stood so, a long time; long enough for me to see the -white marks of my fingers die out of the deep red of his cheek, and -leave it a deeper red. - -'Copperfield,' he said at length, in a breathless voice, 'have you taken -leave of your senses?' - -'I have taken leave of you,' said I, wresting my hand away. 'You dog, -I'll know no more of you.' - -'Won't you?' said he, constrained by the pain of his cheek to put his -hand there. 'Perhaps you won't be able to help it. Isn't this ungrateful -of you, now?' - -'I have shown you often enough,' said I, 'that I despise you. I have -shown you now, more plainly, that I do. Why should I dread your doing -your worst to all about you? What else do you ever do?' - -He perfectly understood this allusion to the considerations that had -hitherto restrained me in my communications with him. I rather think -that neither the blow, nor the allusion, would have escaped me, but for -the assurance I had had from Agnes that night. It is no matter. - -There was another long pause. His eyes, as he looked at me, seemed to -take every shade of colour that could make eyes ugly. - -'Copperfield,' he said, removing his hand from his cheek, 'you have -always gone against me. I know you always used to be against me at Mr. -Wickfield's.' - -'You may think what you like,' said I, still in a towering rage. 'If it -is not true, so much the worthier you.' - -'And yet I always liked you, Copperfield!' he rejoined. - -I deigned to make him no reply; and, taking up my hat, was going out to -bed, when he came between me and the door. - -'Copperfield,' he said, 'there must be two parties to a quarrel. I won't -be one.' - -'You may go to the devil!' said I. - -'Don't say that!' he replied. 'I know you'll be sorry afterwards. How -can you make yourself so inferior to me, as to show such a bad spirit? -But I forgive you.' - -'You forgive me!' I repeated disdainfully. - -'I do, and you can't help yourself,' replied Uriah. 'To think of your -going and attacking me, that have always been a friend to you! But there -can't be a quarrel without two parties, and I won't be one. I will be -a friend to you, in spite of you. So now you know what you've got to -expect.' - -The necessity of carrying on this dialogue (his part in which was -very slow; mine very quick) in a low tone, that the house might not be -disturbed at an unseasonable hour, did not improve my temper; though my -passion was cooling down. Merely telling him that I should expect from -him what I always had expected, and had never yet been disappointed in, -I opened the door upon him, as if he had been a great walnut put there -to be cracked, and went out of the house. But he slept out of the house -too, at his mother's lodging; and before I had gone many hundred yards, -came up with me. - -'You know, Copperfield,' he said, in my ear (I did not turn my head), -'you're in quite a wrong position'; which I felt to be true, and that -made me chafe the more; 'you can't make this a brave thing, and you -can't help being forgiven. I don't intend to mention it to mother, nor -to any living soul. I'm determined to forgive you. But I do wonder -that you should lift your hand against a person that you knew to be so -umble!' - -I felt only less mean than he. He knew me better than I knew myself. If -he had retorted or openly exasperated me, it would have been a relief -and a justification; but he had put me on a slow fire, on which I lay -tormented half the night. - -In the morning, when I came out, the early church-bell was ringing, -and he was walking up and down with his mother. He addressed me as if -nothing had happened, and I could do no less than reply. I had struck -him hard enough to give him the toothache, I suppose. At all events -his face was tied up in a black silk handkerchief, which, with his hat -perched on the top of it, was far from improving his appearance. I heard -that he went to a dentist's in London on the Monday morning, and had a -tooth out. I hope it was a double one. - -The Doctor gave out that he was not quite well; and remained alone, for -a considerable part of every day, during the remainder of the visit. -Agnes and her father had been gone a week, before we resumed our usual -work. On the day preceding its resumption, the Doctor gave me with his -own hands a folded note not sealed. It was addressed to myself; and laid -an injunction on me, in a few affectionate words, never to refer to the -subject of that evening. I had confided it to my aunt, but to no -one else. It was not a subject I could discuss with Agnes, and Agnes -certainly had not the least suspicion of what had passed. - -Neither, I felt convinced, had Mrs. Strong then. Several weeks elapsed -before I saw the least change in her. It came on slowly, like a cloud -when there is no wind. At first, she seemed to wonder at the gentle -compassion with which the Doctor spoke to her, and at his wish that she -should have her mother with her, to relieve the dull monotony of her -life. Often, when we were at work, and she was sitting by, I would see -her pausing and looking at him with that memorable face. Afterwards, I -sometimes observed her rise, with her eyes full of tears, and go out -of the room. Gradually, an unhappy shadow fell upon her beauty, and -deepened every day. Mrs. Markleham was a regular inmate of the cottage -then; but she talked and talked, and saw nothing. - -As this change stole on Annie, once like sunshine in the Doctor's house, -the Doctor became older in appearance, and more grave; but the sweetness -of his temper, the placid kindness of his manner, and his benevolent -solicitude for her, if they were capable of any increase, were -increased. I saw him once, early on the morning of her birthday, when -she came to sit in the window while we were at work (which she had -always done, but now began to do with a timid and uncertain air that I -thought very touching), take her forehead between his hands, kiss it, -and go hurriedly away, too much moved to remain. I saw her stand where -he had left her, like a statue; and then bend down her head, and clasp -her hands, and weep, I cannot say how sorrowfully. - -Sometimes, after that, I fancied that she tried to speak even to me, -in intervals when we were left alone. But she never uttered a word. The -Doctor always had some new project for her participating in amusements -away from home, with her mother; and Mrs. Markleham, who was very fond -of amusements, and very easily dissatisfied with anything else, entered -into them with great good-will, and was loud in her commendations. But -Annie, in a spiritless unhappy way, only went whither she was led, and -seemed to have no care for anything. - -I did not know what to think. Neither did my aunt; who must have walked, -at various times, a hundred miles in her uncertainty. What was strangest -of all was, that the only real relief which seemed to make its way into -the secret region of this domestic unhappiness, made its way there in -the person of Mr. Dick. - -What his thoughts were on the subject, or what his observation was, I am -as unable to explain, as I dare say he would have been to assist me in -the task. But, as I have recorded in the narrative of my school days, -his veneration for the Doctor was unbounded; and there is a subtlety of -perception in real attachment, even when it is borne towards man by one -of the lower animals, which leaves the highest intellect behind. To this -mind of the heart, if I may call it so, in Mr. Dick, some bright ray of -the truth shot straight. - -He had proudly resumed his privilege, in many of his spare hours, -of walking up and down the garden with the Doctor; as he had been -accustomed to pace up and down The Doctor's Walk at Canterbury. But -matters were no sooner in this state, than he devoted all his spare time -(and got up earlier to make it more) to these perambulations. If he had -never been so happy as when the Doctor read that marvellous performance, -the Dictionary, to him; he was now quite miserable unless the Doctor -pulled it out of his pocket, and began. When the Doctor and I were -engaged, he now fell into the custom of walking up and down with Mrs. -Strong, and helping her to trim her favourite flowers, or weed the -beds. I dare say he rarely spoke a dozen words in an hour: but his quiet -interest, and his wistful face, found immediate response in both their -breasts; each knew that the other liked him, and that he loved both; and -he became what no one else could be--a link between them. - -When I think of him, with his impenetrably wise face, walking up and -down with the Doctor, delighted to be battered by the hard words in the -Dictionary; when I think of him carrying huge watering-pots after Annie; -kneeling down, in very paws of gloves, at patient microscopic work among -the little leaves; expressing as no philosopher could have expressed, -in everything he did, a delicate desire to be her friend; showering -sympathy, trustfulness, and affection, out of every hole in the -watering-pot; when I think of him never wandering in that better mind -of his to which unhappiness addressed itself, never bringing the -unfortunate King Charles into the garden, never wavering in his grateful -service, never diverted from his knowledge that there was something -wrong, or from his wish to set it right--I really feel almost ashamed -of having known that he was not quite in his wits, taking account of the -utmost I have done with mine. - -'Nobody but myself, Trot, knows what that man is!' my aunt would proudly -remark, when we conversed about it. 'Dick will distinguish himself yet!' - -I must refer to one other topic before I close this chapter. While the -visit at the Doctor's was still in progress, I observed that the postman -brought two or three letters every morning for Uriah Heep, who remained -at Highgate until the rest went back, it being a leisure time; and that -these were always directed in a business-like manner by Mr. Micawber, -who now assumed a round legal hand. I was glad to infer, from these -slight premises, that Mr. Micawber was doing well; and consequently was -much surprised to receive, about this time, the following letter from -his amiable wife. - - - - 'CANTERBURY, Monday Evening. - -'You will doubtless be surprised, my dear Mr. Copperfield, to receive -this communication. Still more so, by its contents. Still more so, by -the stipulation of implicit confidence which I beg to impose. But my -feelings as a wife and mother require relief; and as I do not wish to -consult my family (already obnoxious to the feelings of Mr. Micawber), -I know no one of whom I can better ask advice than my friend and former -lodger. - -'You may be aware, my dear Mr. Copperfield, that between myself and Mr. -Micawber (whom I will never desert), there has always been preserved a -spirit of mutual confidence. Mr. Micawber may have occasionally given -a bill without consulting me, or he may have misled me as to the period -when that obligation would become due. This has actually happened. -But, in general, Mr. Micawber has had no secrets from the bosom of -affection--I allude to his wife--and has invariably, on our retirement -to rest, recalled the events of the day. - -'You will picture to yourself, my dear Mr. Copperfield, what the -poignancy of my feelings must be, when I inform you that Mr. Micawber is -entirely changed. He is reserved. He is secret. His life is a mystery to -the partner of his joys and sorrows--I again allude to his wife--and if -I should assure you that beyond knowing that it is passed from morning -to night at the office, I now know less of it than I do of the man in -the south, connected with whose mouth the thoughtless children repeat -an idle tale respecting cold plum porridge, I should adopt a popular -fallacy to express an actual fact. - -'But this is not all. Mr. Micawber is morose. He is severe. He is -estranged from our eldest son and daughter, he has no pride in his -twins, he looks with an eye of coldness even on the unoffending stranger -who last became a member of our circle. The pecuniary means of meeting -our expenses, kept down to the utmost farthing, are obtained from him -with great difficulty, and even under fearful threats that he will -Settle himself (the exact expression); and he inexorably refuses to give -any explanation whatever of this distracting policy. - -'This is hard to bear. This is heart-breaking. If you will advise me, -knowing my feeble powers such as they are, how you think it will be best -to exert them in a dilemma so unwonted, you will add another friendly -obligation to the many you have already rendered me. With loves from the -children, and a smile from the happily-unconscious stranger, I remain, -dear Mr. Copperfield, - - Your afflicted, - - 'EMMA MICAWBER.' - - -I did not feel justified in giving a wife of Mrs. Micawber's experience -any other recommendation, than that she should try to reclaim Mr. -Micawber by patience and kindness (as I knew she would in any case); but -the letter set me thinking about him very much. - - - -CHAPTER 43. ANOTHER RETROSPECT - - -Once again, let me pause upon a memorable period of my life. Let me -stand aside, to see the phantoms of those days go by me, accompanying -the shadow of myself, in dim procession. - -Weeks, months, seasons, pass along. They seem little more than a summer -day and a winter evening. Now, the Common where I walk with Dora is all -in bloom, a field of bright gold; and now the unseen heather lies in -mounds and bunches underneath a covering of snow. In a breath, the river -that flows through our Sunday walks is sparkling in the summer sun, is -ruffled by the winter wind, or thickened with drifting heaps of ice. -Faster than ever river ran towards the sea, it flashes, darkens, and -rolls away. - -Not a thread changes, in the house of the two little bird-like ladies. -The clock ticks over the fireplace, the weather-glass hangs in the hall. -Neither clock nor weather-glass is ever right; but we believe in both, -devoutly. - -I have come legally to man's estate. I have attained the dignity of -twenty-one. But this is a sort of dignity that may be thrust upon one. -Let me think what I have achieved. - -I have tamed that savage stenographic mystery. I make a respectable -income by it. I am in high repute for my accomplishment in all -pertaining to the art, and am joined with eleven others in reporting -the debates in Parliament for a Morning Newspaper. Night after night, I -record predictions that never come to pass, professions that are never -fulfilled, explanations that are only meant to mystify. I wallow in -words. Britannia, that unfortunate female, is always before me, like a -trussed fowl: skewered through and through with office-pens, and bound -hand and foot with red tape. I am sufficiently behind the scenes to know -the worth of political life. I am quite an Infidel about it, and shall -never be converted. - -My dear old Traddles has tried his hand at the same pursuit, but it -is not in Traddles's way. He is perfectly good-humoured respecting his -failure, and reminds me that he always did consider himself slow. He has -occasional employment on the same newspaper, in getting up the facts of -dry subjects, to be written about and embellished by more fertile minds. -He is called to the bar; and with admirable industry and self-denial -has scraped another hundred pounds together, to fee a Conveyancer whose -chambers he attends. A great deal of very hot port wine was consumed at -his call; and, considering the figure, I should think the Inner Temple -must have made a profit by it. - -I have come out in another way. I have taken with fear and trembling -to authorship. I wrote a little something, in secret, and sent it to a -magazine, and it was published in the magazine. Since then, I have taken -heart to write a good many trifling pieces. Now, I am regularly paid for -them. Altogether, I am well off, when I tell my income on the fingers -of my left hand, I pass the third finger and take in the fourth to the -middle joint. - -We have removed, from Buckingham Street, to a pleasant little cottage -very near the one I looked at, when my enthusiasm first came on. My -aunt, however (who has sold the house at Dover, to good advantage), is -not going to remain here, but intends removing herself to a still more -tiny cottage close at hand. What does this portend? My marriage? Yes! - -Yes! I am going to be married to Dora! Miss Lavinia and Miss Clarissa -have given their consent; and if ever canary birds were in a flutter, -they are. Miss Lavinia, self-charged with the superintendence of my -darling's wardrobe, is constantly cutting out brown-paper cuirasses, and -differing in opinion from a highly respectable young man, with a long -bundle, and a yard measure under his arm. A dressmaker, always stabbed -in the breast with a needle and thread, boards and lodges in the house; -and seems to me, eating, drinking, or sleeping, never to take her -thimble off. They make a lay-figure of my dear. They are always sending -for her to come and try something on. We can't be happy together for -five minutes in the evening, but some intrusive female knocks at the -door, and says, 'Oh, if you please, Miss Dora, would you step upstairs!' - -Miss Clarissa and my aunt roam all over London, to find out articles of -furniture for Dora and me to look at. It would be better for them to buy -the goods at once, without this ceremony of inspection; for, when we go -to see a kitchen fender and meat-screen, Dora sees a Chinese house for -Jip, with little bells on the top, and prefers that. And it takes a -long time to accustom Jip to his new residence, after we have bought it; -whenever he goes in or out, he makes all the little bells ring, and is -horribly frightened. - -Peggotty comes up to make herself useful, and falls to work immediately. -Her department appears to be, to clean everything over and over again. -She rubs everything that can be rubbed, until it shines, like her own -honest forehead, with perpetual friction. And now it is, that I begin to -see her solitary brother passing through the dark streets at night, and -looking, as he goes, among the wandering faces. I never speak to him at -such an hour. I know too well, as his grave figure passes onward, what -he seeks, and what he dreads. - -Why does Traddles look so important when he calls upon me this afternoon -in the Commons--where I still occasionally attend, for form's sake, when -I have time? The realization of my boyish day-dreams is at hand. I am -going to take out the licence. - -It is a little document to do so much; and Traddles contemplates it, -as it lies upon my desk, half in admiration, half in awe. There are the -names, in the sweet old visionary connexion, David Copperfield and Dora -Spenlow; and there, in the corner, is that Parental Institution, -the Stamp Office, which is so benignantly interested in the various -transactions of human life, looking down upon our Union; and there is -the Archbishop of Canterbury invoking a blessing on us in print, and -doing it as cheap as could possibly be expected. - -Nevertheless, I am in a dream, a flustered, happy, hurried dream. I -can't believe that it is going to be; and yet I can't believe but that -everyone I pass in the street, must have some kind of perception, that I -am to be married the day after tomorrow. The Surrogate knows me, when -I go down to be sworn; and disposes of me easily, as if there were a -Masonic understanding between us. Traddles is not at all wanted, but is -in attendance as my general backer. - -'I hope the next time you come here, my dear fellow,' I say to Traddles, -'it will be on the same errand for yourself. And I hope it will be -soon.' - -'Thank you for your good wishes, my dear Copperfield,' he replies. 'I -hope so too. It's a satisfaction to know that she'll wait for me any -length of time, and that she really is the dearest girl--' - -'When are you to meet her at the coach?' I ask. - -'At seven,' says Traddles, looking at his plain old silver watch--the -very watch he once took a wheel out of, at school, to make a water-mill. -'That is about Miss Wickfield's time, is it not?' - -'A little earlier. Her time is half past eight.' 'I assure you, my dear -boy,' says Traddles, 'I am almost as pleased as if I were going to -be married myself, to think that this event is coming to such a happy -termination. And really the great friendship and consideration of -personally associating Sophy with the joyful occasion, and inviting -her to be a bridesmaid in conjunction with Miss Wickfield, demands my -warmest thanks. I am extremely sensible of it.' - -I hear him, and shake hands with him; and we talk, and walk, and dine, -and so on; but I don't believe it. Nothing is real. - -Sophy arrives at the house of Dora's aunts, in due course. She has the -most agreeable of faces,--not absolutely beautiful, but extraordinarily -pleasant,--and is one of the most genial, unaffected, frank, engaging -creatures I have ever seen. Traddles presents her to us with great -pride; and rubs his hands for ten minutes by the clock, with every -individual hair upon his head standing on tiptoe, when I congratulate -him in a corner on his choice. - -I have brought Agnes from the Canterbury coach, and her cheerful and -beautiful face is among us for the second time. Agnes has a great liking -for Traddles, and it is capital to see them meet, and to observe the -glory of Traddles as he commends the dearest girl in the world to her -acquaintance. - -Still I don't believe it. We have a delightful evening, and are -supremely happy; but I don't believe it yet. I can't collect myself. I -can't check off my happiness as it takes place. I feel in a misty and -unsettled kind of state; as if I had got up very early in the morning a -week or two ago, and had never been to bed since. I can't make out when -yesterday was. I seem to have been carrying the licence about, in my -pocket, many months. - -Next day, too, when we all go in a flock to see the house--our -house--Dora's and mine--I am quite unable to regard myself as its -master. I seem to be there, by permission of somebody else. I half -expect the real master to come home presently, and say he is glad to see -me. Such a beautiful little house as it is, with everything so bright -and new; with the flowers on the carpets looking as if freshly gathered, -and the green leaves on the paper as if they had just come out; with the -spotless muslin curtains, and the blushing rose-coloured furniture, and -Dora's garden hat with the blue ribbon--do I remember, now, how I loved -her in such another hat when I first knew her!--already hanging on its -little peg; the guitar-case quite at home on its heels in a corner; -and everybody tumbling over Jip's pagoda, which is much too big for the -establishment. Another happy evening, quite as unreal as all the rest -of it, and I steal into the usual room before going away. Dora is not -there. I suppose they have not done trying on yet. Miss Lavinia peeps -in, and tells me mysteriously that she will not be long. She is rather -long, notwithstanding; but by and by I hear a rustling at the door, and -someone taps. - -I say, 'Come in!' but someone taps again. - -I go to the door, wondering who it is; there, I meet a pair of bright -eyes, and a blushing face; they are Dora's eyes and face, and Miss -Lavinia has dressed her in tomorrow's dress, bonnet and all, for me to -see. I take my little wife to my heart; and Miss Lavinia gives a little -scream because I tumble the bonnet, and Dora laughs and cries at once, -because I am so pleased; and I believe it less than ever. - -'Do you think it pretty, Doady?' says Dora. - -Pretty! I should rather think I did. - -'And are you sure you like me very much?' says Dora. - -The topic is fraught with such danger to the bonnet, that Miss Lavinia -gives another little scream, and begs me to understand that Dora is only -to be looked at, and on no account to be touched. So Dora stands in a -delightful state of confusion for a minute or two, to be admired; and -then takes off her bonnet--looking so natural without it!--and runs away -with it in her hand; and comes dancing down again in her own familiar -dress, and asks Jip if I have got a beautiful little wife, and whether -he'll forgive her for being married, and kneels down to make him stand -upon the cookery-book, for the last time in her single life. - -I go home, more incredulous than ever, to a lodging that I have hard by; -and get up very early in the morning, to ride to the Highgate road and -fetch my aunt. - -I have never seen my aunt in such state. She is dressed in -lavender-coloured silk, and has a white bonnet on, and is amazing. Janet -has dressed her, and is there to look at me. Peggotty is ready to go to -church, intending to behold the ceremony from the gallery. Mr. Dick, -who is to give my darling to me at the altar, has had his hair curled. -Traddles, whom I have taken up by appointment at the turnpike, presents -a dazzling combination of cream colour and light blue; and both he and -Mr. Dick have a general effect about them of being all gloves. - -No doubt I see this, because I know it is so; but I am astray, and seem -to see nothing. Nor do I believe anything whatever. Still, as we drive -along in an open carriage, this fairy marriage is real enough to fill -me with a sort of wondering pity for the unfortunate people who have -no part in it, but are sweeping out the shops, and going to their daily -occupations. - -My aunt sits with my hand in hers all the way. When we stop a little way -short of the church, to put down Peggotty, whom we have brought on the -box, she gives it a squeeze, and me a kiss. - -'God bless you, Trot! My own boy never could be dearer. I think of poor -dear Baby this morning.' 'So do I. And of all I owe to you, dear aunt.' - -'Tut, child!' says my aunt; and gives her hand in overflowing cordiality -to Traddles, who then gives his to Mr. Dick, who then gives his to me, -who then gives mine to Traddles, and then we come to the church door. - -The church is calm enough, I am sure; but it might be a steam-power loom -in full action, for any sedative effect it has on me. I am too far gone -for that. - -The rest is all a more or less incoherent dream. - -A dream of their coming in with Dora; of the pew-opener arranging us, -like a drill-sergeant, before the altar rails; of my wondering, even -then, why pew-openers must always be the most disagreeable females -procurable, and whether there is any religious dread of a disastrous -infection of good-humour which renders it indispensable to set those -vessels of vinegar upon the road to Heaven. - -Of the clergyman and clerk appearing; of a few boatmen and some -other people strolling in; of an ancient mariner behind me, strongly -flavouring the church with rum; of the service beginning in a deep -voice, and our all being very attentive. - -Of Miss Lavinia, who acts as a semi-auxiliary bridesmaid, being the -first to cry, and of her doing homage (as I take it) to the memory of -Pidger, in sobs; of Miss Clarissa applying a smelling-bottle; of Agnes -taking care of Dora; of my aunt endeavouring to represent herself as -a model of sternness, with tears rolling down her face; of little Dora -trembling very much, and making her responses in faint whispers. - -Of our kneeling down together, side by side; of Dora's trembling less -and less, but always clasping Agnes by the hand; of the service being -got through, quietly and gravely; of our all looking at each other in an -April state of smiles and tears, when it is over; of my young wife being -hysterical in the vestry, and crying for her poor papa, her dear papa. - -Of her soon cheering up again, and our signing the register all round. -Of my going into the gallery for Peggotty to bring her to sign it; of -Peggotty's hugging me in a corner, and telling me she saw my own dear -mother married; of its being over, and our going away. - -Of my walking so proudly and lovingly down the aisle with my sweet wife -upon my arm, through a mist of half-seen people, pulpits, monuments, -pews, fonts, organs, and church windows, in which there flutter faint -airs of association with my childish church at home, so long ago. - -Of their whispering, as we pass, what a youthful couple we are, and what -a pretty little wife she is. Of our all being so merry and talkative in -the carriage going back. Of Sophy telling us that when she saw Traddles -(whom I had entrusted with the licence) asked for it, she almost -fainted, having been convinced that he would contrive to lose it, or to -have his pocket picked. Of Agnes laughing gaily; and of Dora being so -fond of Agnes that she will not be separated from her, but still keeps -her hand. - -Of there being a breakfast, with abundance of things, pretty and -substantial, to eat and drink, whereof I partake, as I should do in any -other dream, without the least perception of their flavour; eating -and drinking, as I may say, nothing but love and marriage, and no more -believing in the viands than in anything else. - -Of my making a speech in the same dreamy fashion, without having an idea -of what I want to say, beyond such as may be comprehended in the full -conviction that I haven't said it. Of our being very sociably and simply -happy (always in a dream though); and of Jip's having wedding cake, and -its not agreeing with him afterwards. - -Of the pair of hired post-horses being ready, and of Dora's going away -to change her dress. Of my aunt and Miss Clarissa remaining with us; and -our walking in the garden; and my aunt, who has made quite a speech at -breakfast touching Dora's aunts, being mightily amused with herself, but -a little proud of it too. - -Of Dora's being ready, and of Miss Lavinia's hovering about her, loth to -lose the pretty toy that has given her so much pleasant occupation. -Of Dora's making a long series of surprised discoveries that she -has forgotten all sorts of little things; and of everybody's running -everywhere to fetch them. - -Of their all closing about Dora, when at last she begins to say -good-bye, looking, with their bright colours and ribbons, like a bed -of flowers. Of my darling being almost smothered among the flowers, and -coming out, laughing and crying both together, to my jealous arms. - -Of my wanting to carry Jip (who is to go along with us), and Dora's -saying no, that she must carry him, or else he'll think she don't like -him any more, now she is married, and will break his heart. Of our -going, arm in arm, and Dora stopping and looking back, and saying, 'If -I have ever been cross or ungrateful to anybody, don't remember it!' and -bursting into tears. - -Of her waving her little hand, and our going away once more. Of her -once more stopping, and looking back, and hurrying to Agnes, and giving -Agnes, above all the others, her last kisses and farewells. - -We drive away together, and I awake from the dream. I believe it at -last. It is my dear, dear, little wife beside me, whom I love so well! - -'Are you happy now, you foolish boy?' says Dora, 'and sure you don't -repent?' - - -I have stood aside to see the phantoms of those days go by me. They are -gone, and I resume the journey of my story. - - - -CHAPTER 44. OUR HOUSEKEEPING - - -It was a strange condition of things, the honeymoon being over, and the -bridesmaids gone home, when I found myself sitting down in my own -small house with Dora; quite thrown out of employment, as I may say, in -respect of the delicious old occupation of making love. - -It seemed such an extraordinary thing to have Dora always there. It was -so unaccountable not to be obliged to go out to see her, not to have any -occasion to be tormenting myself about her, not to have to write to her, -not to be scheming and devising opportunities of being alone with her. -Sometimes of an evening, when I looked up from my writing, and saw her -seated opposite, I would lean back in my chair, and think how queer it -was that there we were, alone together as a matter of course--nobody's -business any more--all the romance of our engagement put away upon a -shelf, to rust--no one to please but one another--one another to please, -for life. - -When there was a debate, and I was kept out very late, it seemed so -strange to me, as I was walking home, to think that Dora was at home! It -was such a wonderful thing, at first, to have her coming softly down to -talk to me as I ate my supper. It was such a stupendous thing to know -for certain that she put her hair in papers. It was altogether such an -astonishing event to see her do it! - -I doubt whether two young birds could have known less about keeping -house, than I and my pretty Dora did. We had a servant, of course. She -kept house for us. I have still a latent belief that she must have been -Mrs. Crupp's daughter in disguise, we had such an awful time of it with -Mary Anne. - -Her name was Paragon. Her nature was represented to us, when we engaged -her, as being feebly expressed in her name. She had a written character, -as large as a proclamation; and, according to this document, could do -everything of a domestic nature that ever I heard of, and a great many -things that I never did hear of. She was a woman in the prime of life; -of a severe countenance; and subject (particularly in the arms) to -a sort of perpetual measles or fiery rash. She had a cousin in the -Life-Guards, with such long legs that he looked like the afternoon -shadow of somebody else. His shell-jacket was as much too little for him -as he was too big for the premises. He made the cottage smaller than it -need have been, by being so very much out of proportion to it. Besides -which, the walls were not thick, and, whenever he passed the evening at -our house, we always knew of it by hearing one continual growl in the -kitchen. - -Our treasure was warranted sober and honest. I am therefore willing to -believe that she was in a fit when we found her under the boiler; and -that the deficient tea-spoons were attributable to the dustman. - -But she preyed upon our minds dreadfully. We felt our inexperience, and -were unable to help ourselves. We should have been at her mercy, if she -had had any; but she was a remorseless woman, and had none. She was the -cause of our first little quarrel. - -'My dearest life,' I said one day to Dora, 'do you think Mary Anne has -any idea of time?' - -'Why, Doady?' inquired Dora, looking up, innocently, from her drawing. - -'My love, because it's five, and we were to have dined at four.' - -Dora glanced wistfully at the clock, and hinted that she thought it was -too fast. - -'On the contrary, my love,' said I, referring to my watch, 'it's a few -minutes too slow.' - -My little wife came and sat upon my knee, to coax me to be quiet, and -drew a line with her pencil down the middle of my nose; but I couldn't -dine off that, though it was very agreeable. - -'Don't you think, my dear,' said I, 'it would be better for you to -remonstrate with Mary Anne?' - -'Oh no, please! I couldn't, Doady!' said Dora. - -'Why not, my love?' I gently asked. - -'Oh, because I am such a little goose,' said Dora, 'and she knows I am!' - -I thought this sentiment so incompatible with the establishment of any -system of check on Mary Anne, that I frowned a little. - -'Oh, what ugly wrinkles in my bad boy's forehead!' said Dora, and still -being on my knee, she traced them with her pencil; putting it to her -rosy lips to make it mark blacker, and working at my forehead with a -quaint little mockery of being industrious, that quite delighted me in -spite of myself. - -'There's a good child,' said Dora, 'it makes its face so much prettier -to laugh.' 'But, my love,' said I. - -'No, no! please!' cried Dora, with a kiss, 'don't be a naughty Blue -Beard! Don't be serious!' - -'My precious wife,' said I, 'we must be serious sometimes. Come! Sit -down on this chair, close beside me! Give me the pencil! There! Now let -us talk sensibly. You know, dear'; what a little hand it was to hold, -and what a tiny wedding-ring it was to see! 'You know, my love, it is -not exactly comfortable to have to go out without one's dinner. Now, is -it?' - -'N-n-no!' replied Dora, faintly. - -'My love, how you tremble!' - -'Because I KNOW you're going to scold me,' exclaimed Dora, in a piteous -voice. - -'My sweet, I am only going to reason.' - -'Oh, but reasoning is worse than scolding!' exclaimed Dora, in despair. -'I didn't marry to be reasoned with. If you meant to reason with such a -poor little thing as I am, you ought to have told me so, you cruel boy!' - -I tried to pacify Dora, but she turned away her face, and shook her -curls from side to side, and said, 'You cruel, cruel boy!' so many -times, that I really did not exactly know what to do: so I took a few -turns up and down the room in my uncertainty, and came back again. - -'Dora, my darling!' - -'No, I am not your darling. Because you must be sorry that you married -me, or else you wouldn't reason with me!' returned Dora. - -I felt so injured by the inconsequential nature of this charge, that it -gave me courage to be grave. - -'Now, my own Dora,' said I, 'you are very childish, and are talking -nonsense. You must remember, I am sure, that I was obliged to go out -yesterday when dinner was half over; and that, the day before, I was -made quite unwell by being obliged to eat underdone veal in a hurry; -today, I don't dine at all--and I am afraid to say how long we waited -for breakfast--and then the water didn't boil. I don't mean to reproach -you, my dear, but this is not comfortable.' - -'Oh, you cruel, cruel boy, to say I am a disagreeable wife!' cried Dora. - -'Now, my dear Dora, you must know that I never said that!' - -'You said, I wasn't comfortable!' cried Dora. 'I said the housekeeping -was not comfortable!' - -'It's exactly the same thing!' cried Dora. And she evidently thought so, -for she wept most grievously. - -I took another turn across the room, full of love for my pretty wife, -and distracted by self-accusatory inclinations to knock my head against -the door. I sat down again, and said: - -'I am not blaming you, Dora. We have both a great deal to learn. I am -only trying to show you, my dear, that you must--you really must' (I -was resolved not to give this up)--'accustom yourself to look after Mary -Anne. Likewise to act a little for yourself, and me.' - -'I wonder, I do, at your making such ungrateful speeches,' sobbed Dora. -'When you know that the other day, when you said you would like a little -bit of fish, I went out myself, miles and miles, and ordered it, to -surprise you.' - -'And it was very kind of you, my own darling,' said I. 'I felt it so -much that I wouldn't on any account have even mentioned that you -bought a Salmon--which was too much for two. Or that it cost one pound -six--which was more than we can afford.' - -'You enjoyed it very much,' sobbed Dora. 'And you said I was a Mouse.' - -'And I'll say so again, my love,' I returned, 'a thousand times!' - -But I had wounded Dora's soft little heart, and she was not to be -comforted. She was so pathetic in her sobbing and bewailing, that I felt -as if I had said I don't know what to hurt her. I was obliged to hurry -away; I was kept out late; and I felt all night such pangs of remorse as -made me miserable. I had the conscience of an assassin, and was haunted -by a vague sense of enormous wickedness. - -It was two or three hours past midnight when I got home. I found my -aunt, in our house, sitting up for me. - -'Is anything the matter, aunt?' said I, alarmed. - -'Nothing, Trot,' she replied. 'Sit down, sit down. Little Blossom has -been rather out of spirits, and I have been keeping her company. That's -all.' - -I leaned my head upon my hand; and felt more sorry and downcast, as I -sat looking at the fire, than I could have supposed possible so soon -after the fulfilment of my brightest hopes. As I sat thinking, I -happened to meet my aunt's eyes, which were resting on my face. There -was an anxious expression in them, but it cleared directly. - -'I assure you, aunt,' said I, 'I have been quite unhappy myself all -night, to think of Dora's being so. But I had no other intention than to -speak to her tenderly and lovingly about our home-affairs.' - -My aunt nodded encouragement. - -'You must have patience, Trot,' said she. - -'Of course. Heaven knows I don't mean to be unreasonable, aunt!' - -'No, no,' said my aunt. 'But Little Blossom is a very tender little -blossom, and the wind must be gentle with her.' - -I thanked my good aunt, in my heart, for her tenderness towards my wife; -and I was sure that she knew I did. - -'Don't you think, aunt,' said I, after some further contemplation of the -fire, 'that you could advise and counsel Dora a little, for our mutual -advantage, now and then?' - -'Trot,' returned my aunt, with some emotion, 'no! Don't ask me such a -thing.' - -Her tone was so very earnest that I raised my eyes in surprise. - -'I look back on my life, child,' said my aunt, 'and I think of some who -are in their graves, with whom I might have been on kinder terms. If I -judged harshly of other people's mistakes in marriage, it may have been -because I had bitter reason to judge harshly of my own. Let that pass. I -have been a grumpy, frumpy, wayward sort of a woman, a good many years. -I am still, and I always shall be. But you and I have done one another -some good, Trot,--at all events, you have done me good, my dear; and -division must not come between us, at this time of day.' - -'Division between us!' cried I. - -'Child, child!' said my aunt, smoothing her dress, 'how soon it might -come between us, or how unhappy I might make our Little Blossom, if I -meddled in anything, a prophet couldn't say. I want our pet to like me, -and be as gay as a butterfly. Remember your own home, in that second -marriage; and never do both me and her the injury you have hinted at!' - -I comprehended, at once, that my aunt was right; and I comprehended the -full extent of her generous feeling towards my dear wife. - -'These are early days, Trot,' she pursued, 'and Rome was not built in a -day, nor in a year. You have chosen freely for yourself'; a cloud passed -over her face for a moment, I thought; 'and you have chosen a very -pretty and a very affectionate creature. It will be your duty, and it -will be your pleasure too--of course I know that; I am not delivering -a lecture--to estimate her (as you chose her) by the qualities she has, -and not by the qualities she may not have. The latter you must develop -in her, if you can. And if you cannot, child,' here my aunt rubbed her -nose, 'you must just accustom yourself to do without 'em. But remember, -my dear, your future is between you two. No one can assist you; you are -to work it out for yourselves. This is marriage, Trot; and Heaven bless -you both, in it, for a pair of babes in the wood as you are!' - -My aunt said this in a sprightly way, and gave me a kiss to ratify the -blessing. - -'Now,' said she, 'light my little lantern, and see me into my bandbox by -the garden path'; for there was a communication between our cottages in -that direction. 'Give Betsey Trotwood's love to Blossom, when you come -back; and whatever you do, Trot, never dream of setting Betsey up as a -scarecrow, for if I ever saw her in the glass, she's quite grim enough -and gaunt enough in her private capacity!' - -With this my aunt tied her head up in a handkerchief, with which she was -accustomed to make a bundle of it on such occasions; and I escorted her -home. As she stood in her garden, holding up her little lantern to light -me back, I thought her observation of me had an anxious air again; but -I was too much occupied in pondering on what she had said, and too much -impressed--for the first time, in reality--by the conviction that Dora -and I had indeed to work out our future for ourselves, and that no one -could assist us, to take much notice of it. - -Dora came stealing down in her little slippers, to meet me, now that I -was alone; and cried upon my shoulder, and said I had been hard-hearted -and she had been naughty; and I said much the same thing in effect, I -believe; and we made it up, and agreed that our first little difference -was to be our last, and that we were never to have another if we lived a -hundred years. - -The next domestic trial we went through, was the Ordeal of Servants. -Mary Anne's cousin deserted into our coal-hole, and was brought out, to -our great amazement, by a piquet of his companions in arms, who took -him away handcuffed in a procession that covered our front-garden with -ignominy. This nerved me to get rid of Mary Anne, who went so mildly, -on receipt of wages, that I was surprised, until I found out about the -tea-spoons, and also about the little sums she had borrowed in my -name of the tradespeople without authority. After an interval of Mrs. -Kidgerbury--the oldest inhabitant of Kentish Town, I believe, who went -out charing, but was too feeble to execute her conceptions of that -art--we found another treasure, who was one of the most amiable of -women, but who generally made a point of falling either up or down the -kitchen stairs with the tray, and almost plunged into the parlour, -as into a bath, with the tea-things. The ravages committed by this -unfortunate, rendering her dismissal necessary, she was succeeded (with -intervals of Mrs. Kidgerbury) by a long line of Incapables; terminating -in a young person of genteel appearance, who went to Greenwich Fair in -Dora's bonnet. After whom I remember nothing but an average equality of -failure. - -Everybody we had anything to do with seemed to cheat us. Our appearance -in a shop was a signal for the damaged goods to be brought out -immediately. If we bought a lobster, it was full of water. All our meat -turned out to be tough, and there was hardly any crust to our loaves. -In search of the principle on which joints ought to be roasted, to be -roasted enough, and not too much, I myself referred to the Cookery Book, -and found it there established as the allowance of a quarter of an hour -to every pound, and say a quarter over. But the principle always failed -us by some curious fatality, and we never could hit any medium between -redness and cinders. - -I had reason to believe that in accomplishing these failures we incurred -a far greater expense than if we had achieved a series of triumphs. It -appeared to me, on looking over the tradesmen's books, as if we might -have kept the basement storey paved with butter, such was the extensive -scale of our consumption of that article. I don't know whether the -Excise returns of the period may have exhibited any increase in the -demand for pepper; but if our performances did not affect the market, -I should say several families must have left off using it. And the most -wonderful fact of all was, that we never had anything in the house. - -As to the washerwoman pawning the clothes, and coming in a state of -penitent intoxication to apologize, I suppose that might have happened -several times to anybody. Also the chimney on fire, the parish engine, -and perjury on the part of the Beadle. But I apprehend that we were -personally fortunate in engaging a servant with a taste for cordials, -who swelled our running account for porter at the public-house by such -inexplicable items as 'quartern rum shrub (Mrs. C.)'; 'Half-quartern -gin and cloves (Mrs. C.)'; 'Glass rum and peppermint (Mrs. C.)'--the -parentheses always referring to Dora, who was supposed, it appeared on -explanation, to have imbibed the whole of these refreshments. - -One of our first feats in the housekeeping way was a little dinner to -Traddles. I met him in town, and asked him to walk out with me that -afternoon. He readily consenting, I wrote to Dora, saying I would bring -him home. It was pleasant weather, and on the road we made my domestic -happiness the theme of conversation. Traddles was very full of it; and -said, that, picturing himself with such a home, and Sophy waiting and -preparing for him, he could think of nothing wanting to complete his -bliss. - -I could not have wished for a prettier little wife at the opposite end -of the table, but I certainly could have wished, when we sat down, for a -little more room. I did not know how it was, but though there were only -two of us, we were at once always cramped for room, and yet had always -room enough to lose everything in. I suspect it may have been because -nothing had a place of its own, except Jip's pagoda, which invariably -blocked up the main thoroughfare. On the present occasion, Traddles -was so hemmed in by the pagoda and the guitar-case, and Dora's -flower-painting, and my writing-table, that I had serious doubts of the -possibility of his using his knife and fork; but he protested, with his -own good-humour, 'Oceans of room, Copperfield! I assure you, Oceans!' - -There was another thing I could have wished, namely, that Jip had never -been encouraged to walk about the tablecloth during dinner. I began to -think there was something disorderly in his being there at all, even -if he had not been in the habit of putting his foot in the salt or the -melted butter. On this occasion he seemed to think he was introduced -expressly to keep Traddles at bay; and he barked at my old friend, and -made short runs at his plate, with such undaunted pertinacity, that he -may be said to have engrossed the conversation. - -However, as I knew how tender-hearted my dear Dora was, and how -sensitive she would be to any slight upon her favourite, I hinted no -objection. For similar reasons I made no allusion to the skirmishing -plates upon the floor; or to the disreputable appearance of the castors, -which were all at sixes and sevens, and looked drunk; or to the further -blockade of Traddles by wandering vegetable dishes and jugs. I could -not help wondering in my own mind, as I contemplated the boiled leg of -mutton before me, previous to carving it, how it came to pass that -our joints of meat were of such extraordinary shapes--and whether our -butcher contracted for all the deformed sheep that came into the world; -but I kept my reflections to myself. - -'My love,' said I to Dora, 'what have you got in that dish?' - -I could not imagine why Dora had been making tempting little faces at -me, as if she wanted to kiss me. - -'Oysters, dear,' said Dora, timidly. - -'Was that YOUR thought?' said I, delighted. - -'Ye-yes, Doady,' said Dora. - -'There never was a happier one!' I exclaimed, laying down the -carving-knife and fork. 'There is nothing Traddles likes so much!' - -'Ye-yes, Doady,' said Dora, 'and so I bought a beautiful little barrel -of them, and the man said they were very good. But I--I am afraid -there's something the matter with them. They don't seem right.' Here -Dora shook her head, and diamonds twinkled in her eyes. - -'They are only opened in both shells,' said I. 'Take the top one off, my -love.' - -'But it won't come off!' said Dora, trying very hard, and looking very -much distressed. - -'Do you know, Copperfield,' said Traddles, cheerfully examining the -dish, 'I think it is in consequence--they are capital oysters, but I -think it is in consequence--of their never having been opened.' - -They never had been opened; and we had no oyster-knives--and couldn't -have used them if we had; so we looked at the oysters and ate the -mutton. At least we ate as much of it as was done, and made up with -capers. If I had permitted him, I am satisfied that Traddles would have -made a perfect savage of himself, and eaten a plateful of raw meat, to -express enjoyment of the repast; but I would hear of no such immolation -on the altar of friendship, and we had a course of bacon instead; there -happening, by good fortune, to be cold bacon in the larder. - -My poor little wife was in such affliction when she thought I should be -annoyed, and in such a state of joy when she found I was not, that the -discomfiture I had subdued, very soon vanished, and we passed a happy -evening; Dora sitting with her arm on my chair while Traddles and I -discussed a glass of wine, and taking every opportunity of whispering -in my ear that it was so good of me not to be a cruel, cross old boy. By -and by she made tea for us; which it was so pretty to see her do, as if -she was busying herself with a set of doll's tea-things, that I was not -particular about the quality of the beverage. Then Traddles and I played -a game or two at cribbage; and Dora singing to the guitar the while, -it seemed to me as if our courtship and marriage were a tender dream -of mine, and the night when I first listened to her voice were not yet -over. - -When Traddles went away, and I came back into the parlour from seeing -him out, my wife planted her chair close to mine, and sat down by my -side. 'I am very sorry,' she said. 'Will you try to teach me, Doady?' - -'I must teach myself first, Dora,' said I. 'I am as bad as you, love.' - -'Ah! But you can learn,' she returned; 'and you are a clever, clever -man!' - -'Nonsense, mouse!' said I. - -'I wish,' resumed my wife, after a long silence, 'that I could have gone -down into the country for a whole year, and lived with Agnes!' - -Her hands were clasped upon my shoulder, and her chin rested on them, -and her blue eyes looked quietly into mine. - -'Why so?' I asked. - -'I think she might have improved me, and I think I might have learned -from her,' said Dora. - -'All in good time, my love. Agnes has had her father to take care of for -these many years, you should remember. Even when she was quite a child, -she was the Agnes whom we know,' said I. - -'Will you call me a name I want you to call me?' inquired Dora, without -moving. - -'What is it?' I asked with a smile. - -'It's a stupid name,' she said, shaking her curls for a moment. -'Child-wife.' - -I laughingly asked my child-wife what her fancy was in desiring to be so -called. She answered without moving, otherwise than as the arm I twined -about her may have brought her blue eyes nearer to me: - -'I don't mean, you silly fellow, that you should use the name instead -of Dora. I only mean that you should think of me that way. When you are -going to be angry with me, say to yourself, "it's only my child-wife!" -When I am very disappointing, say, "I knew, a long time ago, that she -would make but a child-wife!" When you miss what I should like to be, -and I think can never be, say, "still my foolish child-wife loves me!" -For indeed I do.' - -I had not been serious with her; having no idea until now, that she was -serious herself. But her affectionate nature was so happy in what I now -said to her with my whole heart, that her face became a laughing one -before her glittering eyes were dry. She was soon my child-wife indeed; -sitting down on the floor outside the Chinese House, ringing all -the little bells one after another, to punish Jip for his recent bad -behaviour; while Jip lay blinking in the doorway with his head out, even -too lazy to be teased. - -This appeal of Dora's made a strong impression on me. I look back on the -time I write of; I invoke the innocent figure that I dearly loved, to -come out from the mists and shadows of the past, and turn its gentle -head towards me once again; and I can still declare that this one little -speech was constantly in my memory. I may not have used it to the best -account; I was young and inexperienced; but I never turned a deaf ear to -its artless pleading. - -Dora told me, shortly afterwards, that she was going to be a wonderful -housekeeper. Accordingly, she polished the tablets, pointed the pencil, -bought an immense account-book, carefully stitched up with a needle and -thread all the leaves of the Cookery Book which Jip had torn, and made -quite a desperate little attempt 'to be good', as she called it. But the -figures had the old obstinate propensity--they WOULD NOT add up. When -she had entered two or three laborious items in the account-book, Jip -would walk over the page, wagging his tail, and smear them all out. Her -own little right-hand middle finger got steeped to the very bone in ink; -and I think that was the only decided result obtained. - -Sometimes, of an evening, when I was at home and at work--for I wrote -a good deal now, and was beginning in a small way to be known as a -writer--I would lay down my pen, and watch my child-wife trying to be -good. First of all, she would bring out the immense account-book, and -lay it down upon the table, with a deep sigh. Then she would open it at -the place where Jip had made it illegible last night, and call Jip -up, to look at his misdeeds. This would occasion a diversion in Jip's -favour, and some inking of his nose, perhaps, as a penalty. Then she -would tell Jip to lie down on the table instantly, 'like a lion'--which -was one of his tricks, though I cannot say the likeness was -striking--and, if he were in an obedient humour, he would obey. Then she -would take up a pen, and begin to write, and find a hair in it. Then -she would take up another pen, and begin to write, and find that it -spluttered. Then she would take up another pen, and begin to write, and -say in a low voice, 'Oh, it's a talking pen, and will disturb Doady!' -And then she would give it up as a bad job, and put the account-book -away, after pretending to crush the lion with it. - -Or, if she were in a very sedate and serious state of mind, she would -sit down with the tablets, and a little basket of bills and other -documents, which looked more like curl-papers than anything else, and -endeavour to get some result out of them. After severely comparing one -with another, and making entries on the tablets, and blotting them -out, and counting all the fingers of her left hand over and over again, -backwards and forwards, she would be so vexed and discouraged, and -would look so unhappy, that it gave me pain to see her bright face -clouded--and for me!--and I would go softly to her, and say: - -'What's the matter, Dora?' - -Dora would look up hopelessly, and reply, 'They won't come right. They -make my head ache so. And they won't do anything I want!' - -Then I would say, 'Now let us try together. Let me show you, Dora.' - -Then I would commence a practical demonstration, to which Dora would pay -profound attention, perhaps for five minutes; when she would begin to be -dreadfully tired, and would lighten the subject by curling my hair, -or trying the effect of my face with my shirt-collar turned down. If -I tacitly checked this playfulness, and persisted, she would look so -scared and disconsolate, as she became more and more bewildered, that -the remembrance of her natural gaiety when I first strayed into her -path, and of her being my child-wife, would come reproachfully upon me; -and I would lay the pencil down, and call for the guitar. - -I had a great deal of work to do, and had many anxieties, but the same -considerations made me keep them to myself. I am far from sure, now, -that it was right to do this, but I did it for my child-wife's sake. I -search my breast, and I commit its secrets, if I know them, without any -reservation to this paper. The old unhappy loss or want of something -had, I am conscious, some place in my heart; but not to the embitterment -of my life. When I walked alone in the fine weather, and thought of the -summer days when all the air had been filled with my boyish enchantment, -I did miss something of the realization of my dreams; but I thought it -was a softened glory of the Past, which nothing could have thrown upon -the present time. I did feel, sometimes, for a little while, that I -could have wished my wife had been my counsellor; had had more character -and purpose, to sustain me and improve me by; had been endowed with -power to fill up the void which somewhere seemed to be about me; but -I felt as if this were an unearthly consummation of my happiness, that -never had been meant to be, and never could have been. - -I was a boyish husband as to years. I had known the softening influence -of no other sorrows or experiences than those recorded in these leaves. -If I did any wrong, as I may have done much, I did it in mistaken love, -and in my want of wisdom. I write the exact truth. It would avail me -nothing to extenuate it now. - -Thus it was that I took upon myself the toils and cares of our life, -and had no partner in them. We lived much as before, in reference to our -scrambling household arrangements; but I had got used to those, and Dora -I was pleased to see was seldom vexed now. She was bright and cheerful -in the old childish way, loved me dearly, and was happy with her old -trifles. - -When the debates were heavy--I mean as to length, not quality, for in -the last respect they were not often otherwise--and I went home late, -Dora would never rest when she heard my footsteps, but would always come -downstairs to meet me. When my evenings were unoccupied by the pursuit -for which I had qualified myself with so much pains, and I was engaged -in writing at home, she would sit quietly near me, however late the -hour, and be so mute, that I would often think she had dropped asleep. -But generally, when I raised my head, I saw her blue eyes looking at me -with the quiet attention of which I have already spoken. - -'Oh, what a weary boy!' said Dora one night, when I met her eyes as I -was shutting up my desk. - -'What a weary girl!' said I. 'That's more to the purpose. You must go to -bed another time, my love. It's far too late for you.' - -'No, don't send me to bed!' pleaded Dora, coming to my side. 'Pray, -don't do that!' - -'Dora!' To my amazement she was sobbing on my neck. 'Not well, my dear! -not happy!' - -'Yes! quite well, and very happy!' said Dora. 'But say you'll let me -stop, and see you write.' - -'Why, what a sight for such bright eyes at midnight!' I replied. - -'Are they bright, though?' returned Dora, laughing. 'I'm so glad they're -bright.' 'Little Vanity!' said I. - -But it was not vanity; it was only harmless delight in my admiration. I -knew that very well, before she told me so. - -'If you think them pretty, say I may always stop, and see you write!' -said Dora. 'Do you think them pretty?' - -'Very pretty.' - -'Then let me always stop and see you write.' - -'I am afraid that won't improve their brightness, Dora.' - -'Yes, it will! Because, you clever boy, you'll not forget me then, while -you are full of silent fancies. Will you mind it, if I say something -very, very silly?---more than usual?' inquired Dora, peeping over my -shoulder into my face. - -'What wonderful thing is that?' said I. - -'Please let me hold the pens,' said Dora. 'I want to have something to -do with all those many hours when you are so industrious. May I hold the -pens?' - -The remembrance of her pretty joy when I said yes, brings tears into my -eyes. The next time I sat down to write, and regularly afterwards, -she sat in her old place, with a spare bundle of pens at her side. Her -triumph in this connexion with my work, and her delight when I wanted a -new pen--which I very often feigned to do--suggested to me a new way of -pleasing my child-wife. I occasionally made a pretence of wanting a -page or two of manuscript copied. Then Dora was in her glory. The -preparations she made for this great work, the aprons she put on, the -bibs she borrowed from the kitchen to keep off the ink, the time she -took, the innumerable stoppages she made to have a laugh with Jip as if -he understood it all, her conviction that her work was incomplete unless -she signed her name at the end, and the way in which she would bring it -to me, like a school-copy, and then, when I praised it, clasp me round -the neck, are touching recollections to me, simple as they might appear -to other men. - -She took possession of the keys soon after this, and went jingling about -the house with the whole bunch in a little basket, tied to her slender -waist. I seldom found that the places to which they belonged were -locked, or that they were of any use except as a plaything for Jip--but -Dora was pleased, and that pleased me. She was quite satisfied that a -good deal was effected by this make-belief of housekeeping; and was as -merry as if we had been keeping a baby-house, for a joke. - -So we went on. Dora was hardly less affectionate to my aunt than to me, -and often told her of the time when she was afraid she was 'a cross old -thing'. I never saw my aunt unbend more systematically to anyone. She -courted Jip, though Jip never responded; listened, day after day, to the -guitar, though I am afraid she had no taste for music; never attacked -the Incapables, though the temptation must have been severe; went -wonderful distances on foot to purchase, as surprises, any trifles that -she found out Dora wanted; and never came in by the garden, and missed -her from the room, but she would call out, at the foot of the stairs, in -a voice that sounded cheerfully all over the house: - -'Where's Little Blossom?' - - - -CHAPTER 45. MR. DICK FULFILS MY AUNT'S PREDICTIONS - - -It was some time now, since I had left the Doctor. Living in his -neighbourhood, I saw him frequently; and we all went to his house on two -or three occasions to dinner or tea. The Old Soldier was in permanent -quarters under the Doctor's roof. She was exactly the same as ever, and -the same immortal butterflies hovered over her cap. - -Like some other mothers, whom I have known in the course of my life, -Mrs. Markleham was far more fond of pleasure than her daughter was. -She required a great deal of amusement, and, like a deep old soldier, -pretended, in consulting her own inclinations, to be devoting herself -to her child. The Doctor's desire that Annie should be entertained, -was therefore particularly acceptable to this excellent parent; who -expressed unqualified approval of his discretion. - -I have no doubt, indeed, that she probed the Doctor's wound without -knowing it. Meaning nothing but a certain matured frivolity and -selfishness, not always inseparable from full-blown years, I think she -confirmed him in his fear that he was a constraint upon his young -wife, and that there was no congeniality of feeling between them, by so -strongly commending his design of lightening the load of her life. - -'My dear soul,' she said to him one day when I was present, 'you know -there is no doubt it would be a little pokey for Annie to be always shut -up here.' - -The Doctor nodded his benevolent head. 'When she comes to her mother's -age,' said Mrs. Markleham, with a flourish of her fan, 'then it'll be -another thing. You might put ME into a Jail, with genteel society and -a rubber, and I should never care to come out. But I am not Annie, you -know; and Annie is not her mother.' - -'Surely, surely,' said the Doctor. - -'You are the best of creatures--no, I beg your pardon!' for the Doctor -made a gesture of deprecation, 'I must say before your face, as I always -say behind your back, you are the best of creatures; but of course you -don't--now do you?---enter into the same pursuits and fancies as Annie?' - -'No,' said the Doctor, in a sorrowful tone. - -'No, of course not,' retorted the Old Soldier. 'Take your Dictionary, -for example. What a useful work a Dictionary is! What a necessary work! -The meanings of words! Without Doctor Johnson, or somebody of that sort, -we might have been at this present moment calling an Italian-iron, -a bedstead. But we can't expect a Dictionary--especially when it's -making--to interest Annie, can we?' - -The Doctor shook his head. - -'And that's why I so much approve,' said Mrs. Markleham, tapping him -on the shoulder with her shut-up fan, 'of your thoughtfulness. It shows -that you don't expect, as many elderly people do expect, old heads on -young shoulders. You have studied Annie's character, and you understand -it. That's what I find so charming!' - -Even the calm and patient face of Doctor Strong expressed some little -sense of pain, I thought, under the infliction of these compliments. - -'Therefore, my dear Doctor,' said the Old Soldier, giving him several -affectionate taps, 'you may command me, at all times and seasons. Now, -do understand that I am entirely at your service. I am ready to go with -Annie to operas, concerts, exhibitions, all kinds of places; and you -shall never find that I am tired. Duty, my dear Doctor, before every -consideration in the universe!' - -She was as good as her word. She was one of those people who can bear -a great deal of pleasure, and she never flinched in her perseverance -in the cause. She seldom got hold of the newspaper (which she settled -herself down in the softest chair in the house to read through an -eye-glass, every day, for two hours), but she found out something that -she was certain Annie would like to see. It was in vain for Annie to -protest that she was weary of such things. Her mother's remonstrance -always was, 'Now, my dear Annie, I am sure you know better; and I must -tell you, my love, that you are not making a proper return for the -kindness of Doctor Strong.' - -This was usually said in the Doctor's presence, and appeared to me to -constitute Annie's principal inducement for withdrawing her objections -when she made any. But in general she resigned herself to her mother, -and went where the Old Soldier would. - -It rarely happened now that Mr. Maldon accompanied them. Sometimes -my aunt and Dora were invited to do so, and accepted the invitation. -Sometimes Dora only was asked. The time had been, when I should have -been uneasy in her going; but reflection on what had passed that -former night in the Doctor's study, had made a change in my mistrust. I -believed that the Doctor was right, and I had no worse suspicions. - -My aunt rubbed her nose sometimes when she happened to be alone with -me, and said she couldn't make it out; she wished they were happier; she -didn't think our military friend (so she always called the Old Soldier) -mended the matter at all. My aunt further expressed her opinion, 'that -if our military friend would cut off those butterflies, and give 'em to -the chimney-sweepers for May-day, it would look like the beginning of -something sensible on her part.' - -But her abiding reliance was on Mr. Dick. That man had evidently an -idea in his head, she said; and if he could only once pen it up into a -corner, which was his great difficulty, he would distinguish himself in -some extraordinary manner. - -Unconscious of this prediction, Mr. Dick continued to occupy precisely -the same ground in reference to the Doctor and to Mrs. Strong. He seemed -neither to advance nor to recede. He appeared to have settled into his -original foundation, like a building; and I must confess that my faith -in his ever Moving, was not much greater than if he had been a building. - -But one night, when I had been married some months, Mr. Dick put his -head into the parlour, where I was writing alone (Dora having gone out -with my aunt to take tea with the two little birds), and said, with a -significant cough: - -'You couldn't speak to me without inconveniencing yourself, Trotwood, I -am afraid?' - -'Certainly, Mr. Dick,' said I; 'come in!' - -'Trotwood,' said Mr. Dick, laying his finger on the side of his nose, -after he had shaken hands with me. 'Before I sit down, I wish to make an -observation. You know your aunt?' - -'A little,' I replied. - -'She is the most wonderful woman in the world, sir!' - -After the delivery of this communication, which he shot out of himself -as if he were loaded with it, Mr. Dick sat down with greater gravity -than usual, and looked at me. - -'Now, boy,' said Mr. Dick, 'I am going to put a question to you.' - -'As many as you please,' said I. - -'What do you consider me, sir?' asked Mr. Dick, folding his arms. - -'A dear old friend,' said I. 'Thank you, Trotwood,' returned Mr. Dick, -laughing, and reaching across in high glee to shake hands with me. 'But -I mean, boy,' resuming his gravity, 'what do you consider me in this -respect?' touching his forehead. - -I was puzzled how to answer, but he helped me with a word. - -'Weak?' said Mr. Dick. - -'Well,' I replied, dubiously. 'Rather so.' - -'Exactly!' cried Mr. Dick, who seemed quite enchanted by my reply. 'That -is, Trotwood, when they took some of the trouble out of you-know-who's -head, and put it you know where, there was a--' Mr. Dick made his two -hands revolve very fast about each other a great number of times, and -then brought them into collision, and rolled them over and over one -another, to express confusion. 'There was that sort of thing done to me -somehow. Eh?' - -I nodded at him, and he nodded back again. - -'In short, boy,' said Mr. Dick, dropping his voice to a whisper, 'I am -simple.' - -I would have qualified that conclusion, but he stopped me. - -'Yes, I am! She pretends I am not. She won't hear of it; but I am. I -know I am. If she hadn't stood my friend, sir, I should have been shut -up, to lead a dismal life these many years. But I'll provide for her! -I never spend the copying money. I put it in a box. I have made a will. -I'll leave it all to her. She shall be rich--noble!' - -Mr. Dick took out his pocket-handkerchief, and wiped his eyes. He then -folded it up with great care, pressed it smooth between his two hands, -put it in his pocket, and seemed to put my aunt away with it. - -'Now you are a scholar, Trotwood,' said Mr. Dick. 'You are a fine -scholar. You know what a learned man, what a great man, the Doctor is. -You know what honour he has always done me. Not proud in his wisdom. -Humble, humble--condescending even to poor Dick, who is simple and knows -nothing. I have sent his name up, on a scrap of paper, to the kite, -along the string, when it has been in the sky, among the larks. The kite -has been glad to receive it, sir, and the sky has been brighter with -it.' - -I delighted him by saying, most heartily, that the Doctor was deserving -of our best respect and highest esteem. - -'And his beautiful wife is a star,' said Mr. Dick. 'A shining star. I -have seen her shine, sir. But,' bringing his chair nearer, and laying -one hand upon my knee--'clouds, sir--clouds.' - -I answered the solicitude which his face expressed, by conveying the -same expression into my own, and shaking my head. - -'What clouds?' said Mr. Dick. - -He looked so wistfully into my face, and was so anxious to understand, -that I took great pains to answer him slowly and distinctly, as I might -have entered on an explanation to a child. - -'There is some unfortunate division between them,' I replied. 'Some -unhappy cause of separation. A secret. It may be inseparable from the -discrepancy in their years. It may have grown up out of almost nothing.' - -Mr. Dick, who had told off every sentence with a thoughtful nod, paused -when I had done, and sat considering, with his eyes upon my face, and -his hand upon my knee. - -'Doctor not angry with her, Trotwood?' he said, after some time. - -'No. Devoted to her.' - -'Then, I have got it, boy!' said Mr. Dick. - -The sudden exultation with which he slapped me on the knee, and leaned -back in his chair, with his eyebrows lifted up as high as he could -possibly lift them, made me think him farther out of his wits than -ever. He became as suddenly grave again, and leaning forward as before, -said--first respectfully taking out his pocket-handkerchief, as if it -really did represent my aunt: - -'Most wonderful woman in the world, Trotwood. Why has she done nothing -to set things right?' - -'Too delicate and difficult a subject for such interference,' I replied. - -'Fine scholar,' said Mr. Dick, touching me with his finger. 'Why has HE -done nothing?' - -'For the same reason,' I returned. - -'Then, I have got it, boy!' said Mr. Dick. And he stood up before me, -more exultingly than before, nodding his head, and striking himself -repeatedly upon the breast, until one might have supposed that he had -nearly nodded and struck all the breath out of his body. - -'A poor fellow with a craze, sir,' said Mr. Dick, 'a simpleton, a -weak-minded person--present company, you know!' striking himself again, -'may do what wonderful people may not do. I'll bring them together, boy. -I'll try. They'll not blame me. They'll not object to me. They'll not -mind what I do, if it's wrong. I'm only Mr. Dick. And who minds Dick? -Dick's nobody! Whoo!' He blew a slight, contemptuous breath, as if he -blew himself away. - -It was fortunate he had proceeded so far with his mystery, for we heard -the coach stop at the little garden gate, which brought my aunt and Dora -home. - -'Not a word, boy!' he pursued in a whisper; 'leave all the blame with -Dick--simple Dick--mad Dick. I have been thinking, sir, for some time, -that I was getting it, and now I have got it. After what you have said -to me, I am sure I have got it. All right!' Not another word did Mr. -Dick utter on the subject; but he made a very telegraph of himself for -the next half-hour (to the great disturbance of my aunt's mind), to -enjoin inviolable secrecy on me. - -To my surprise, I heard no more about it for some two or three weeks, -though I was sufficiently interested in the result of his endeavours; -descrying a strange gleam of good sense--I say nothing of good feeling, -for that he always exhibited--in the conclusion to which he had come. At -last I began to believe, that, in the flighty and unsettled state of his -mind, he had either forgotten his intention or abandoned it. - -One fair evening, when Dora was not inclined to go out, my aunt and I -strolled up to the Doctor's cottage. It was autumn, when there were no -debates to vex the evening air; and I remember how the leaves smelt like -our garden at Blunderstone as we trod them under foot, and how the old, -unhappy feeling, seemed to go by, on the sighing wind. - -It was twilight when we reached the cottage. Mrs. Strong was just coming -out of the garden, where Mr. Dick yet lingered, busy with his knife, -helping the gardener to point some stakes. The Doctor was engaged with -someone in his study; but the visitor would be gone directly, Mrs. -Strong said, and begged us to remain and see him. We went into the -drawing-room with her, and sat down by the darkening window. There was -never any ceremony about the visits of such old friends and neighbours -as we were. - -We had not sat here many minutes, when Mrs. Markleham, who usually -contrived to be in a fuss about something, came bustling in, with her -newspaper in her hand, and said, out of breath, 'My goodness gracious, -Annie, why didn't you tell me there was someone in the Study!' - -'My dear mama,' she quietly returned, 'how could I know that you desired -the information?' - -'Desired the information!' said Mrs. Markleham, sinking on the sofa. 'I -never had such a turn in all my life!' - -'Have you been to the Study, then, mama?' asked Annie. - -'BEEN to the Study, my dear!' she returned emphatically. 'Indeed I have! -I came upon the amiable creature--if you'll imagine my feelings, Miss -Trotwood and David--in the act of making his will.' - -Her daughter looked round from the window quickly. - -'In the act, my dear Annie,' repeated Mrs. Markleham, spreading the -newspaper on her lap like a table-cloth, and patting her hands upon it, -'of making his last Will and Testament. The foresight and affection of -the dear! I must tell you how it was. I really must, in justice to the -darling--for he is nothing less!--tell you how it was. Perhaps you know, -Miss Trotwood, that there is never a candle lighted in this house, until -one's eyes are literally falling out of one's head with being stretched -to read the paper. And that there is not a chair in this house, in which -a paper can be what I call, read, except one in the Study. This took me -to the Study, where I saw a light. I opened the door. In company with -the dear Doctor were two professional people, evidently connected with -the law, and they were all three standing at the table: the -darling Doctor pen in hand. "This simply expresses then," said the -Doctor--Annie, my love, attend to the very words--"this simply expresses -then, gentlemen, the confidence I have in Mrs. Strong, and gives her all -unconditionally?" One of the professional people replied, "And gives her -all unconditionally." Upon that, with the natural feelings of a mother, -I said, "Good God, I beg your pardon!" fell over the door-step, and came -away through the little back passage where the pantry is.' - -Mrs. Strong opened the window, and went out into the verandah, where she -stood leaning against a pillar. - -'But now isn't it, Miss Trotwood, isn't it, David, invigorating,' said -Mrs. Markleham, mechanically following her with her eyes, 'to find a man -at Doctor Strong's time of life, with the strength of mind to do this -kind of thing? It only shows how right I was. I said to Annie, when -Doctor Strong paid a very flattering visit to myself, and made her the -subject of a declaration and an offer, I said, "My dear, there is no -doubt whatever, in my opinion, with reference to a suitable provision -for you, that Doctor Strong will do more than he binds himself to do."' - -Here the bell rang, and we heard the sound of the visitors' feet as they -went out. - -'It's all over, no doubt,' said the Old Soldier, after listening; 'the -dear creature has signed, sealed, and delivered, and his mind's at rest. -Well it may be! What a mind! Annie, my love, I am going to the Study -with my paper, for I am a poor creature without news. Miss Trotwood, -David, pray come and see the Doctor.' - -I was conscious of Mr. Dick's standing in the shadow of the room, -shutting up his knife, when we accompanied her to the Study; and of my -aunt's rubbing her nose violently, by the way, as a mild vent for her -intolerance of our military friend; but who got first into the Study, or -how Mrs. Markleham settled herself in a moment in her easy-chair, or how -my aunt and I came to be left together near the door (unless her eyes -were quicker than mine, and she held me back), I have forgotten, if I -ever knew. But this I know,--that we saw the Doctor before he saw us, -sitting at his table, among the folio volumes in which he delighted, -resting his head calmly on his hand. That, in the same moment, we saw -Mrs. Strong glide in, pale and trembling. That Mr. Dick supported her on -his arm. That he laid his other hand upon the Doctor's arm, causing him -to look up with an abstracted air. That, as the Doctor moved his head, -his wife dropped down on one knee at his feet, and, with her hands -imploringly lifted, fixed upon his face the memorable look I had never -forgotten. That at this sight Mrs. Markleham dropped the newspaper, -and stared more like a figure-head intended for a ship to be called The -Astonishment, than anything else I can think of. - -The gentleness of the Doctor's manner and surprise, the dignity that -mingled with the supplicating attitude of his wife, the amiable concern -of Mr. Dick, and the earnestness with which my aunt said to herself, -'That man mad!' (triumphantly expressive of the misery from which she -had saved him)--I see and hear, rather than remember, as I write about -it. - -'Doctor!' said Mr. Dick. 'What is it that's amiss? Look here!' - -'Annie!' cried the Doctor. 'Not at my feet, my dear!' - -'Yes!' she said. 'I beg and pray that no one will leave the room! Oh, my -husband and father, break this long silence. Let us both know what it is -that has come between us!' - -Mrs. Markleham, by this time recovering the power of speech, and seeming -to swell with family pride and motherly indignation, here exclaimed, -'Annie, get up immediately, and don't disgrace everybody belonging to -you by humbling yourself like that, unless you wish to see me go out of -my mind on the spot!' - -'Mama!' returned Annie. 'Waste no words on me, for my appeal is to my -husband, and even you are nothing here.' - -'Nothing!' exclaimed Mrs. Markleham. 'Me, nothing! The child has taken -leave of her senses. Please to get me a glass of water!' - -I was too attentive to the Doctor and his wife, to give any heed to this -request; and it made no impression on anybody else; so Mrs. Markleham -panted, stared, and fanned herself. - -'Annie!' said the Doctor, tenderly taking her in his hands. 'My dear! -If any unavoidable change has come, in the sequence of time, upon our -married life, you are not to blame. The fault is mine, and only mine. -There is no change in my affection, admiration, and respect. I wish to -make you happy. I truly love and honour you. Rise, Annie, pray!' - -But she did not rise. After looking at him for a little while, she sank -down closer to him, laid her arm across his knee, and dropping her head -upon it, said: - -'If I have any friend here, who can speak one word for me, or for my -husband in this matter; if I have any friend here, who can give a voice -to any suspicion that my heart has sometimes whispered to me; if I have -any friend here, who honours my husband, or has ever cared for me, and -has anything within his knowledge, no matter what it is, that may help -to mediate between us, I implore that friend to speak!' - -There was a profound silence. After a few moments of painful hesitation, -I broke the silence. - -'Mrs. Strong,' I said, 'there is something within my knowledge, which -I have been earnestly entreated by Doctor Strong to conceal, and have -concealed until tonight. But, I believe the time has come when it would -be mistaken faith and delicacy to conceal it any longer, and when your -appeal absolves me from his injunction.' - -She turned her face towards me for a moment, and I knew that I was -right. I could not have resisted its entreaty, if the assurance that it -gave me had been less convincing. - -'Our future peace,' she said, 'may be in your hands. I trust it -confidently to your not suppressing anything. I know beforehand that -nothing you, or anyone, can tell me, will show my husband's noble heart -in any other light than one. Howsoever it may seem to you to touch me, -disregard that. I will speak for myself, before him, and before God -afterwards.' - -Thus earnestly besought, I made no reference to the Doctor for his -permission, but, without any other compromise of the truth than a little -softening of the coarseness of Uriah Heep, related plainly what had -passed in that same room that night. The staring of Mrs. Markleham -during the whole narration, and the shrill, sharp interjections with -which she occasionally interrupted it, defy description. - -When I had finished, Annie remained, for some few moments, silent, with -her head bent down, as I have described. Then, she took the Doctor's -hand (he was sitting in the same attitude as when we had entered the -room), and pressed it to her breast, and kissed it. Mr. Dick softly -raised her; and she stood, when she began to speak, leaning on him, and -looking down upon her husband--from whom she never turned her eyes. - -'All that has ever been in my mind, since I was married,' she said in a -low, submissive, tender voice, 'I will lay bare before you. I could not -live and have one reservation, knowing what I know now.' - -'Nay, Annie,' said the Doctor, mildly, 'I have never doubted you, my -child. There is no need; indeed there is no need, my dear.' - -'There is great need,' she answered, in the same way, 'that I should -open my whole heart before the soul of generosity and truth, whom, year -by year, and day by day, I have loved and venerated more and more, as -Heaven knows!' - -'Really,' interrupted Mrs. Markleham, 'if I have any discretion at -all--' - -('Which you haven't, you Marplot,' observed my aunt, in an indignant -whisper.) --'I must be permitted to observe that it cannot be requisite -to enter into these details.' - -'No one but my husband can judge of that, mama,' said Annie without -removing her eyes from his face, 'and he will hear me. If I say anything -to give you pain, mama, forgive me. I have borne pain first, often and -long, myself.' - -'Upon my word!' gasped Mrs. Markleham. - -'When I was very young,' said Annie, 'quite a little child, my first -associations with knowledge of any kind were inseparable from a patient -friend and teacher--the friend of my dead father--who was always dear -to me. I can remember nothing that I know, without remembering him. He -stored my mind with its first treasures, and stamped his character upon -them all. They never could have been, I think, as good as they have been -to me, if I had taken them from any other hands.' - -'Makes her mother nothing!' exclaimed Mrs. Markleham. - -'Not so mama,' said Annie; 'but I make him what he was. I must do that. -As I grew up, he occupied the same place still. I was proud of his -interest: deeply, fondly, gratefully attached to him. I looked up to -him, I can hardly describe how--as a father, as a guide, as one whose -praise was different from all other praise, as one in whom I could have -trusted and confided, if I had doubted all the world. You know, mama, -how young and inexperienced I was, when you presented him before me, of -a sudden, as a lover.' - -'I have mentioned the fact, fifty times at least, to everybody here!' -said Mrs. Markleham. - -('Then hold your tongue, for the Lord's sake, and don't mention it any -more!' muttered my aunt.) - -'It was so great a change: so great a loss, I felt it, at first,' said -Annie, still preserving the same look and tone, 'that I was agitated -and distressed. I was but a girl; and when so great a change came in the -character in which I had so long looked up to him, I think I was sorry. -But nothing could have made him what he used to be again; and I was -proud that he should think me so worthy, and we were married.' '--At -Saint Alphage, Canterbury,' observed Mrs. Markleham. - -('Confound the woman!' said my aunt, 'she WON'T be quiet!') - -'I never thought,' proceeded Annie, with a heightened colour, 'of any -worldly gain that my husband would bring to me. My young heart had no -room in its homage for any such poor reference. Mama, forgive me when -I say that it was you who first presented to my mind the thought that -anyone could wrong me, and wrong him, by such a cruel suspicion.' - -'Me!' cried Mrs. Markleham. - -('Ah! You, to be sure!' observed my aunt, 'and you can't fan it away, my -military friend!') - -'It was the first unhappiness of my new life,' said Annie. 'It was the -first occasion of every unhappy moment I have known. These moments have -been more, of late, than I can count; but not--my generous husband!--not -for the reason you suppose; for in my heart there is not a thought, a -recollection, or a hope, that any power could separate from you!' - -She raised her eyes, and clasped her hands, and looked as beautiful and -true, I thought, as any Spirit. The Doctor looked on her, henceforth, as -steadfastly as she on him. - -'Mama is blameless,' she went on, 'of having ever urged you for herself, -and she is blameless in intention every way, I am sure,--but when I saw -how many importunate claims were pressed upon you in my name; how you -were traded on in my name; how generous you were, and how Mr. Wickfield, -who had your welfare very much at heart, resented it; the first sense -of my exposure to the mean suspicion that my tenderness was bought--and -sold to you, of all men on earth--fell upon me like unmerited disgrace, -in which I forced you to participate. I cannot tell you what it -was--mama cannot imagine what it was--to have this dread and trouble -always on my mind, yet know in my own soul that on my marriage-day I -crowned the love and honour of my life!' - -'A specimen of the thanks one gets,' cried Mrs. Markleham, in tears, -'for taking care of one's family! I wish I was a Turk!' - -('I wish you were, with all my heart--and in your native country!' said -my aunt.) - -'It was at that time that mama was most solicitous about my Cousin -Maldon. I had liked him': she spoke softly, but without any hesitation: -'very much. We had been little lovers once. If circumstances had not -happened otherwise, I might have come to persuade myself that I really -loved him, and might have married him, and been most wretched. There can -be no disparity in marriage like unsuitability of mind and purpose.' - -I pondered on those words, even while I was studiously attending to -what followed, as if they had some particular interest, or some strange -application that I could not divine. 'There can be no disparity in -marriage like unsuitability of mind and purpose'--'no disparity in -marriage like unsuitability of mind and purpose.' - -'There is nothing,' said Annie, 'that we have in common. I have long -found that there is nothing. If I were thankful to my husband for no -more, instead of for so much, I should be thankful to him for having -saved me from the first mistaken impulse of my undisciplined heart.' - -She stood quite still, before the Doctor, and spoke with an earnestness -that thrilled me. Yet her voice was just as quiet as before. - -'When he was waiting to be the object of your munificence, so freely -bestowed for my sake, and when I was unhappy in the mercenary shape -I was made to wear, I thought it would have become him better to have -worked his own way on. I thought that if I had been he, I would have -tried to do it, at the cost of almost any hardship. But I thought no -worse of him, until the night of his departure for India. That night I -knew he had a false and thankless heart. I saw a double meaning, then, -in Mr. Wickfield's scrutiny of me. I perceived, for the first time, the -dark suspicion that shadowed my life.' - -'Suspicion, Annie!' said the Doctor. 'No, no, no!' - -'In your mind there was none, I know, my husband!' she returned. 'And -when I came to you, that night, to lay down all my load of shame and -grief, and knew that I had to tell that, underneath your roof, one of my -own kindred, to whom you had been a benefactor, for the love of me, had -spoken to me words that should have found no utterance, even if I had -been the weak and mercenary wretch he thought me--my mind revolted from -the taint the very tale conveyed. It died upon my lips, and from that -hour till now has never passed them.' - -Mrs. Markleham, with a short groan, leaned back in her easy-chair; and -retired behind her fan, as if she were never coming out any more. - -'I have never, but in your presence, interchanged a word with him from -that time; then, only when it has been necessary for the avoidance of -this explanation. Years have passed since he knew, from me, what his -situation here was. The kindnesses you have secretly done for his -advancement, and then disclosed to me, for my surprise and pleasure, -have been, you will believe, but aggravations of the unhappiness and -burden of my secret.' - -She sunk down gently at the Doctor's feet, though he did his utmost to -prevent her; and said, looking up, tearfully, into his face: - -'Do not speak to me yet! Let me say a little more! Right or wrong, if -this were to be done again, I think I should do just the same. You never -can know what it was to be devoted to you, with those old associations; -to find that anyone could be so hard as to suppose that the truth of my -heart was bartered away, and to be surrounded by appearances confirming -that belief. I was very young, and had no adviser. Between mama and -me, in all relating to you, there was a wide division. If I shrunk into -myself, hiding the disrespect I had undergone, it was because I honoured -you so much, and so much wished that you should honour me!' - -'Annie, my pure heart!' said the Doctor, 'my dear girl!' - -'A little more! a very few words more! I used to think there were so -many whom you might have married, who would not have brought such charge -and trouble on you, and who would have made your home a worthier home. I -used to be afraid that I had better have remained your pupil, and almost -your child. I used to fear that I was so unsuited to your learning and -wisdom. If all this made me shrink within myself (as indeed it did), -when I had that to tell, it was still because I honoured you so much, -and hoped that you might one day honour me.' - -'That day has shone this long time, Annie,' said the Doctor, 'and can -have but one long night, my dear.' - -'Another word! I afterwards meant--steadfastly meant, and purposed to -myself--to bear the whole weight of knowing the unworthiness of one -to whom you had been so good. And now a last word, dearest and best of -friends! The cause of the late change in you, which I have seen with -so much pain and sorrow, and have sometimes referred to my old -apprehension--at other times to lingering suppositions nearer to the -truth--has been made clear tonight; and by an accident I have also come -to know, tonight, the full measure of your noble trust in me, even -under that mistake. I do not hope that any love and duty I may render in -return, will ever make me worthy of your priceless confidence; but with -all this knowledge fresh upon me, I can lift my eyes to this dear -face, revered as a father's, loved as a husband's, sacred to me in -my childhood as a friend's, and solemnly declare that in my lightest -thought I have never wronged you; never wavered in the love and the -fidelity I owe you!' - -She had her arms around the Doctor's neck, and he leant his head down -over her, mingling his grey hair with her dark brown tresses. - -'Oh, hold me to your heart, my husband! Never cast me out! Do not think -or speak of disparity between us, for there is none, except in all my -many imperfections. Every succeeding year I have known this better, as I -have esteemed you more and more. Oh, take me to your heart, my husband, -for my love was founded on a rock, and it endures!' - -In the silence that ensued, my aunt walked gravely up to Mr. Dick, -without at all hurrying herself, and gave him a hug and a sounding kiss. -And it was very fortunate, with a view to his credit, that she did so; -for I am confident that I detected him at that moment in the act of -making preparations to stand on one leg, as an appropriate expression of -delight. - -'You are a very remarkable man, Dick!' said my aunt, with an air of -unqualified approbation; 'and never pretend to be anything else, for I -know better!' - -With that, my aunt pulled him by the sleeve, and nodded to me; and we -three stole quietly out of the room, and came away. - -'That's a settler for our military friend, at any rate,' said my aunt, -on the way home. 'I should sleep the better for that, if there was -nothing else to be glad of!' - -'She was quite overcome, I am afraid,' said Mr. Dick, with great -commiseration. - -'What! Did you ever see a crocodile overcome?' inquired my aunt. - -'I don't think I ever saw a crocodile,' returned Mr. Dick, mildly. - -'There never would have been anything the matter, if it hadn't been for -that old Animal,' said my aunt, with strong emphasis. 'It's very much -to be wished that some mothers would leave their daughters alone after -marriage, and not be so violently affectionate. They seem to think the -only return that can be made them for bringing an unfortunate young -woman into the world--God bless my soul, as if she asked to be brought, -or wanted to come!--is full liberty to worry her out of it again. What -are you thinking of, Trot?' - -I was thinking of all that had been said. My mind was still running on -some of the expressions used. 'There can be no disparity in marriage -like unsuitability of mind and purpose.' 'The first mistaken impulse of -an undisciplined heart.' 'My love was founded on a rock.' But we were at -home; and the trodden leaves were lying under-foot, and the autumn wind -was blowing. - - - -CHAPTER 46. INTELLIGENCE - - -I must have been married, if I may trust to my imperfect memory for -dates, about a year or so, when one evening, as I was returning from a -solitary walk, thinking of the book I was then writing--for my success -had steadily increased with my steady application, and I was engaged at -that time upon my first work of fiction--I came past Mrs. Steerforth's -house. I had often passed it before, during my residence in that -neighbourhood, though never when I could choose another road. Howbeit, -it did sometimes happen that it was not easy to find another, without -making a long circuit; and so I had passed that way, upon the whole, -pretty often. - -I had never done more than glance at the house, as I went by with a -quickened step. It had been uniformly gloomy and dull. None of the best -rooms abutted on the road; and the narrow, heavily-framed old-fashioned -windows, never cheerful under any circumstances, looked very dismal, -close shut, and with their blinds always drawn down. There was a covered -way across a little paved court, to an entrance that was never used; and -there was one round staircase window, at odds with all the rest, and the -only one unshaded by a blind, which had the same unoccupied blank look. -I do not remember that I ever saw a light in all the house. If I had -been a casual passer-by, I should have probably supposed that some -childless person lay dead in it. If I had happily possessed no knowledge -of the place, and had seen it often in that changeless state, I should -have pleased my fancy with many ingenious speculations, I dare say. - -As it was, I thought as little of it as I might. But my mind could not -go by it and leave it, as my body did; and it usually awakened a long -train of meditations. Coming before me, on this particular evening that -I mention, mingled with the childish recollections and later fancies, -the ghosts of half-formed hopes, the broken shadows of disappointments -dimly seen and understood, the blending of experience and imagination, -incidental to the occupation with which my thoughts had been busy, it -was more than commonly suggestive. I fell into a brown study as I walked -on, and a voice at my side made me start. - -It was a woman's voice, too. I was not long in recollecting Mrs. -Steerforth's little parlour-maid, who had formerly worn blue ribbons in -her cap. She had taken them out now, to adapt herself, I suppose, to -the altered character of the house; and wore but one or two disconsolate -bows of sober brown. - -'If you please, sir, would you have the goodness to walk in, and speak -to Miss Dartle?' - -'Has Miss Dartle sent you for me?' I inquired. - -'Not tonight, sir, but it's just the same. Miss Dartle saw you pass a -night or two ago; and I was to sit at work on the staircase, and when I -saw you pass again, to ask you to step in and speak to her.' - -I turned back, and inquired of my conductor, as we went along, how Mrs. -Steerforth was. She said her lady was but poorly, and kept her own room -a good deal. - -When we arrived at the house, I was directed to Miss Dartle in the -garden, and left to make my presence known to her myself. She was -sitting on a seat at one end of a kind of terrace, overlooking the great -city. It was a sombre evening, with a lurid light in the sky; and as -I saw the prospect scowling in the distance, with here and there some -larger object starting up into the sullen glare, I fancied it was no -inapt companion to the memory of this fierce woman. - -She saw me as I advanced, and rose for a moment to receive me. I thought -her, then, still more colourless and thin than when I had seen her last; -the flashing eyes still brighter, and the scar still plainer. - -Our meeting was not cordial. We had parted angrily on the last occasion; -and there was an air of disdain about her, which she took no pains to -conceal. - -'I am told you wish to speak to me, Miss Dartle,' said I, standing near -her, with my hand upon the back of the seat, and declining her gesture -of invitation to sit down. - -'If you please,' said she. 'Pray has this girl been found?' - -'No.' - -'And yet she has run away!' - -I saw her thin lips working while she looked at me, as if they were -eager to load her with reproaches. - -'Run away?' I repeated. - -'Yes! From him,' she said, with a laugh. 'If she is not found, perhaps -she never will be found. She may be dead!' - -The vaunting cruelty with which she met my glance, I never saw expressed -in any other face that ever I have seen. - -'To wish her dead,' said I, 'may be the kindest wish that one of her own -sex could bestow upon her. I am glad that time has softened you so much, -Miss Dartle.' - -She condescended to make no reply, but, turning on me with another -scornful laugh, said: - -'The friends of this excellent and much-injured young lady are friends -of yours. You are their champion, and assert their rights. Do you wish -to know what is known of her?' - -'Yes,' said I. - -She rose with an ill-favoured smile, and taking a few steps towards -a wall of holly that was near at hand, dividing the lawn from a -kitchen-garden, said, in a louder voice, 'Come here!'--as if she were -calling to some unclean beast. - -'You will restrain any demonstrative championship or vengeance in this -place, of course, Mr. Copperfield?' said she, looking over her shoulder -at me with the same expression. - -I inclined my head, without knowing what she meant; and she said, 'Come -here!' again; and returned, followed by the respectable Mr. Littimer, -who, with undiminished respectability, made me a bow, and took up his -position behind her. The air of wicked grace: of triumph, in which, -strange to say, there was yet something feminine and alluring: with -which she reclined upon the seat between us, and looked at me, was -worthy of a cruel Princess in a Legend. - -'Now,' said she, imperiously, without glancing at him, and touching -the old wound as it throbbed: perhaps, in this instance, with pleasure -rather than pain. 'Tell Mr. Copperfield about the flight.' - -'Mr. James and myself, ma'am--' - -'Don't address yourself to me!' she interrupted with a frown. - -'Mr. James and myself, sir--' - -'Nor to me, if you please,' said I. - -Mr. Littimer, without being at all discomposed, signified by a slight -obeisance, that anything that was most agreeable to us was most -agreeable to him; and began again. - -'Mr. James and myself have been abroad with the young woman, ever -since she left Yarmouth under Mr. James's protection. We have been in a -variety of places, and seen a deal of foreign country. We have been in -France, Switzerland, Italy, in fact, almost all parts.' - -He looked at the back of the seat, as if he were addressing himself to -that; and softly played upon it with his hands, as if he were striking -chords upon a dumb piano. - -'Mr. James took quite uncommonly to the young woman; and was more -settled, for a length of time, than I have known him to be since I have -been in his service. The young woman was very improvable, and spoke the -languages; and wouldn't have been known for the same country-person. I -noticed that she was much admired wherever we went.' - -Miss Dartle put her hand upon her side. I saw him steal a glance at her, -and slightly smile to himself. - -'Very much admired, indeed, the young woman was. What with her dress; -what with the air and sun; what with being made so much of; what with -this, that, and the other; her merits really attracted general notice.' - -He made a short pause. Her eyes wandered restlessly over the distant -prospect, and she bit her nether lip to stop that busy mouth. - -Taking his hands from the seat, and placing one of them within the -other, as he settled himself on one leg, Mr. Littimer proceeded, with -his eyes cast down, and his respectable head a little advanced, and a -little on one side: - -'The young woman went on in this manner for some time, being -occasionally low in her spirits, until I think she began to weary Mr. -James by giving way to her low spirits and tempers of that kind; and -things were not so comfortable. Mr. James he began to be restless again. -The more restless he got, the worse she got; and I must say, for myself, -that I had a very difficult time of it indeed between the two. Still -matters were patched up here, and made good there, over and over again; -and altogether lasted, I am sure, for a longer time than anybody could -have expected.' - -Recalling her eyes from the distance, she looked at me again now, with -her former air. Mr. Littimer, clearing his throat behind his hand with a -respectable short cough, changed legs, and went on: - -'At last, when there had been, upon the whole, a good many words and -reproaches, Mr. James he set off one morning, from the neighbourhood of -Naples, where we had a villa (the young woman being very partial to -the sea), and, under pretence of coming back in a day or so, left it in -charge with me to break it out, that, for the general happiness of all -concerned, he was'--here an interruption of the short cough--'gone. But -Mr. James, I must say, certainly did behave extremely honourable; for -he proposed that the young woman should marry a very respectable person, -who was fully prepared to overlook the past, and who was, at least, as -good as anybody the young woman could have aspired to in a regular way: -her connexions being very common.' - -He changed legs again, and wetted his lips. I was convinced that the -scoundrel spoke of himself, and I saw my conviction reflected in Miss -Dartle's face. - -'This I also had it in charge to communicate. I was willing to do -anything to relieve Mr. James from his difficulty, and to restore -harmony between himself and an affectionate parent, who has undergone -so much on his account. Therefore I undertook the commission. The -young woman's violence when she came to, after I broke the fact of his -departure, was beyond all expectations. She was quite mad, and had to -be held by force; or, if she couldn't have got to a knife, or got to the -sea, she'd have beaten her head against the marble floor.' - -Miss Dartle, leaning back upon the seat, with a light of exultation in -her face, seemed almost to caress the sounds this fellow had uttered. - -'But when I came to the second part of what had been entrusted to me,' -said Mr. Littimer, rubbing his hands uneasily, 'which anybody might -have supposed would have been, at all events, appreciated as a kind -intention, then the young woman came out in her true colours. A more -outrageous person I never did see. Her conduct was surprisingly bad. She -had no more gratitude, no more feeling, no more patience, no more reason -in her, than a stock or a stone. If I hadn't been upon my guard, I am -convinced she would have had my blood.' - -'I think the better of her for it,' said I, indignantly. - -Mr. Littimer bent his head, as much as to say, 'Indeed, sir? But you're -young!' and resumed his narrative. - -'It was necessary, in short, for a time, to take away everything nigh -her, that she could do herself, or anybody else, an injury with, and -to shut her up close. Notwithstanding which, she got out in the night; -forced the lattice of a window, that I had nailed up myself; dropped on -a vine that was trailed below; and never has been seen or heard of, to -my knowledge, since.' - -'She is dead, perhaps,' said Miss Dartle, with a smile, as if she could -have spurned the body of the ruined girl. - -'She may have drowned herself, miss,' returned Mr. Littimer, catching at -an excuse for addressing himself to somebody. 'It's very possible. Or, -she may have had assistance from the boatmen, and the boatmen's wives -and children. Being given to low company, she was very much in the -habit of talking to them on the beach, Miss Dartle, and sitting by their -boats. I have known her do it, when Mr. James has been away, whole days. -Mr. James was far from pleased to find out, once, that she had told the -children she was a boatman's daughter, and that in her own country, long -ago, she had roamed about the beach, like them.' - -Oh, Emily! Unhappy beauty! What a picture rose before me of her sitting -on the far-off shore, among the children like herself when she was -innocent, listening to little voices such as might have called her -Mother had she been a poor man's wife; and to the great voice of the -sea, with its eternal 'Never more!' - -'When it was clear that nothing could be done, Miss Dartle--' - -'Did I tell you not to speak to me?' she said, with stern contempt. - -'You spoke to me, miss,' he replied. 'I beg your pardon. But it is my -service to obey.' - -'Do your service,' she returned. 'Finish your story, and go!' - -'When it was clear,' he said, with infinite respectability and an -obedient bow, 'that she was not to be found, I went to Mr. James, at the -place where it had been agreed that I should write to him, and informed -him of what had occurred. Words passed between us in consequence, and -I felt it due to my character to leave him. I could bear, and I have -borne, a great deal from Mr. James; but he insulted me too far. He hurt -me. Knowing the unfortunate difference between himself and his mother, -and what her anxiety of mind was likely to be, I took the liberty of -coming home to England, and relating--' - -'For money which I paid him,' said Miss Dartle to me. - -'Just so, ma'am--and relating what I knew. I am not aware,' said Mr. -Littimer, after a moment's reflection, 'that there is anything else. -I am at present out of employment, and should be happy to meet with a -respectable situation.' - -Miss Dartle glanced at me, as though she would inquire if there were -anything that I desired to ask. As there was something which had -occurred to my mind, I said in reply: - -'I could wish to know from this--creature,' I could not bring myself -to utter any more conciliatory word, 'whether they intercepted a letter -that was written to her from home, or whether he supposes that she -received it.' - -He remained calm and silent, with his eyes fixed on the ground, and the -tip of every finger of his right hand delicately poised against the tip -of every finger of his left. - -Miss Dartle turned her head disdainfully towards him. - -'I beg your pardon, miss,' he said, awakening from his abstraction, -'but, however submissive to you, I have my position, though a servant. -Mr. Copperfield and you, miss, are different people. If Mr. Copperfield -wishes to know anything from me, I take the liberty of reminding Mr. -Copperfield that he can put a question to me. I have a character to -maintain.' - -After a momentary struggle with myself, I turned my eyes upon him, and -said, 'You have heard my question. Consider it addressed to yourself, if -you choose. What answer do you make?' - -'Sir,' he rejoined, with an occasional separation and reunion of those -delicate tips, 'my answer must be qualified; because, to betray Mr. -James's confidence to his mother, and to betray it to you, are two -different actions. It is not probable, I consider, that Mr. James would -encourage the receipt of letters likely to increase low spirits and -unpleasantness; but further than that, sir, I should wish to avoid -going.' - -'Is that all?' inquired Miss Dartle of me. - -I indicated that I had nothing more to say. 'Except,' I added, as I -saw him moving off, 'that I understand this fellow's part in the wicked -story, and that, as I shall make it known to the honest man who has been -her father from her childhood, I would recommend him to avoid going too -much into public.' - -He had stopped the moment I began, and had listened with his usual -repose of manner. - -'Thank you, sir. But you'll excuse me if I say, sir, that there are -neither slaves nor slave-drivers in this country, and that people are -not allowed to take the law into their own hands. If they do, it is -more to their own peril, I believe, than to other people's. Consequently -speaking, I am not at all afraid of going wherever I may wish, sir.' - -With that, he made a polite bow; and, with another to Miss Dartle, went -away through the arch in the wall of holly by which he had come. Miss -Dartle and I regarded each other for a little while in silence; her -manner being exactly what it was, when she had produced the man. - -'He says besides,' she observed, with a slow curling of her lip, 'that -his master, as he hears, is coasting Spain; and this done, is away -to gratify his seafaring tastes till he is weary. But this is of no -interest to you. Between these two proud persons, mother and son, there -is a wider breach than before, and little hope of its healing, for they -are one at heart, and time makes each more obstinate and imperious. -Neither is this of any interest to you; but it introduces what I wish to -say. This devil whom you make an angel of. I mean this low girl whom he -picked out of the tide-mud,' with her black eyes full upon me, and her -passionate finger up, 'may be alive,--for I believe some common things -are hard to die. If she is, you will desire to have a pearl of such -price found and taken care of. We desire that, too; that he may not -by any chance be made her prey again. So far, we are united in one -interest; and that is why I, who would do her any mischief that so -coarse a wretch is capable of feeling, have sent for you to hear what -you have heard.' - -I saw, by the change in her face, that someone was advancing behind me. -It was Mrs. Steerforth, who gave me her hand more coldly than of yore, -and with an augmentation of her former stateliness of manner, but still, -I perceived--and I was touched by it--with an ineffaceable remembrance -of my old love for her son. She was greatly altered. Her fine figure was -far less upright, her handsome face was deeply marked, and her hair was -almost white. But when she sat down on the seat, she was a handsome lady -still; and well I knew the bright eye with its lofty look, that had been -a light in my very dreams at school. - -'Is Mr. Copperfield informed of everything, Rosa?' - -'Yes.' - -'And has he heard Littimer himself?' - -'Yes; I have told him why you wished it.' 'You are a good girl. I have -had some slight correspondence with your former friend, sir,' addressing -me, 'but it has not restored his sense of duty or natural obligation. -Therefore I have no other object in this, than what Rosa has mentioned. -If, by the course which may relieve the mind of the decent man you -brought here (for whom I am sorry--I can say no more), my son may be -saved from again falling into the snares of a designing enemy, well!' - -She drew herself up, and sat looking straight before her, far away. - -'Madam,' I said respectfully, 'I understand. I assure you I am in no -danger of putting any strained construction on your motives. But I must -say, even to you, having known this injured family from childhood, -that if you suppose the girl, so deeply wronged, has not been cruelly -deluded, and would not rather die a hundred deaths than take a cup of -water from your son's hand now, you cherish a terrible mistake.' - -'Well, Rosa, well!' said Mrs. Steerforth, as the other was about to -interpose, 'it is no matter. Let it be. You are married, sir, I am -told?' - -I answered that I had been some time married. - -'And are doing well? I hear little in the quiet life I lead, but I -understand you are beginning to be famous.' - -'I have been very fortunate,' I said, 'and find my name connected with -some praise.' - -'You have no mother?'--in a softened voice. - -'No.' - -'It is a pity,' she returned. 'She would have been proud of you. Good -night!' - -I took the hand she held out with a dignified, unbending air, and it -was as calm in mine as if her breast had been at peace. Her pride could -still its very pulses, it appeared, and draw the placid veil before -her face, through which she sat looking straight before her on the far -distance. - -As I moved away from them along the terrace, I could not help observing -how steadily they both sat gazing on the prospect, and how it thickened -and closed around them. Here and there, some early lamps were seen to -twinkle in the distant city; and in the eastern quarter of the sky -the lurid light still hovered. But, from the greater part of the broad -valley interposed, a mist was rising like a sea, which, mingling with -the darkness, made it seem as if the gathering waters would encompass -them. I have reason to remember this, and think of it with awe; for -before I looked upon those two again, a stormy sea had risen to their -feet. - -Reflecting on what had been thus told me, I felt it right that it should -be communicated to Mr. Peggotty. On the following evening I went into -London in quest of him. He was always wandering about from place to -place, with his one object of recovering his niece before him; but was -more in London than elsewhere. Often and often, now, had I seen him in -the dead of night passing along the streets, searching, among the few -who loitered out of doors at those untimely hours, for what he dreaded -to find. - -He kept a lodging over the little chandler's shop in Hungerford Market, -which I have had occasion to mention more than once, and from which he -first went forth upon his errand of mercy. Hither I directed my walk. On -making inquiry for him, I learned from the people of the house that he -had not gone out yet, and I should find him in his room upstairs. - -He was sitting reading by a window in which he kept a few plants. The -room was very neat and orderly. I saw in a moment that it was always -kept prepared for her reception, and that he never went out but he -thought it possible he might bring her home. He had not heard my tap -at the door, and only raised his eyes when I laid my hand upon his -shoulder. - -'Mas'r Davy! Thankee, sir! thankee hearty, for this visit! Sit ye down. -You're kindly welcome, sir!' - -'Mr. Peggotty,' said I, taking the chair he handed me, 'don't expect -much! I have heard some news.' - -'Of Em'ly!' - -He put his hand, in a nervous manner, on his mouth, and turned pale, as -he fixed his eyes on mine. - -'It gives no clue to where she is; but she is not with him.' - -He sat down, looking intently at me, and listened in profound silence -to all I had to tell. I well remember the sense of dignity, beauty even, -with which the patient gravity of his face impressed me, when, having -gradually removed his eyes from mine, he sat looking downward, leaning -his forehead on his hand. He offered no interruption, but remained -throughout perfectly still. He seemed to pursue her figure through -the narrative, and to let every other shape go by him, as if it were -nothing. - -When I had done, he shaded his face, and continued silent. I looked out -of the window for a little while, and occupied myself with the plants. - -'How do you fare to feel about it, Mas'r Davy?' he inquired at length. - -'I think that she is living,' I replied. - -'I doen't know. Maybe the first shock was too rough, and in the wildness -of her art--! That there blue water as she used to speak on. Could she -have thowt o' that so many year, because it was to be her grave!' - -He said this, musing, in a low, frightened voice; and walked across the -little room. - -'And yet,' he added, 'Mas'r Davy, I have felt so sure as she was -living--I have know'd, awake and sleeping, as it was so trew that I -should find her--I have been so led on by it, and held up by it--that I -doen't believe I can have been deceived. No! Em'ly's alive!' - -He put his hand down firmly on the table, and set his sunburnt face into -a resolute expression. - -'My niece, Em'ly, is alive, sir!' he said, steadfastly. 'I doen't know -wheer it comes from, or how 'tis, but I am told as she's alive!' - -He looked almost like a man inspired, as he said it. I waited for a -few moments, until he could give me his undivided attention; and then -proceeded to explain the precaution, that, it had occurred to me last -night, it would be wise to take. - -'Now, my dear friend--'I began. - -'Thankee, thankee, kind sir,' he said, grasping my hand in both of his. - -'If she should make her way to London, which is likely--for where could -she lose herself so readily as in this vast city; and what would she -wish to do, but lose and hide herself, if she does not go home?--' - -'And she won't go home,' he interposed, shaking his head mournfully. 'If -she had left of her own accord, she might; not as It was, sir.' - -'If she should come here,' said I, 'I believe there is one person, -here, more likely to discover her than any other in the world. Do -you remember--hear what I say, with fortitude--think of your great -object!--do you remember Martha?' - -'Of our town?' - -I needed no other answer than his face. - -'Do you know that she is in London?' - -'I have seen her in the streets,' he answered, with a shiver. - -'But you don't know,' said I, 'that Emily was charitable to her, with -Ham's help, long before she fled from home. Nor, that, when we met one -night, and spoke together in the room yonder, over the way, she listened -at the door.' - -'Mas'r Davy!' he replied in astonishment. 'That night when it snew so -hard?' - -'That night. I have never seen her since. I went back, after parting -from you, to speak to her, but she was gone. I was unwilling to mention -her to you then, and I am now; but she is the person of whom I speak, -and with whom I think we should communicate. Do you understand?' - -'Too well, sir,' he replied. We had sunk our voices, almost to a -whisper, and continued to speak in that tone. - -'You say you have seen her. Do you think that you could find her? I -could only hope to do so by chance.' - -'I think, Mas'r Davy, I know wheer to look.' - -'It is dark. Being together, shall we go out now, and try to find her -tonight?' - -He assented, and prepared to accompany me. Without appearing to observe -what he was doing, I saw how carefully he adjusted the little room, -put a candle ready and the means of lighting it, arranged the bed, and -finally took out of a drawer one of her dresses (I remember to have -seen her wear it), neatly folded with some other garments, and a bonnet, -which he placed upon a chair. He made no allusion to these clothes, -neither did I. There they had been waiting for her, many and many a -night, no doubt. - -'The time was, Mas'r Davy,' he said, as we came downstairs, 'when I -thowt this girl, Martha, a'most like the dirt underneath my Em'ly's -feet. God forgive me, theer's a difference now!' - -As we went along, partly to hold him in conversation, and partly to -satisfy myself, I asked him about Ham. He said, almost in the same words -as formerly, that Ham was just the same, 'wearing away his life with -kiender no care nohow for 't; but never murmuring, and liked by all'. - -I asked him what he thought Ham's state of mind was, in reference to the -cause of their misfortunes? Whether he believed it was dangerous? What -he supposed, for example, Ham would do, if he and Steerforth ever should -encounter? - -'I doen't know, sir,' he replied. 'I have thowt of it oftentimes, but I -can't awize myself of it, no matters.' - -I recalled to his remembrance the morning after her departure, when we -were all three on the beach. 'Do you recollect,' said I, 'a certain wild -way in which he looked out to sea, and spoke about "the end of it"?' - -'Sure I do!' said he. - -'What do you suppose he meant?' - -'Mas'r Davy,' he replied, 'I've put the question to myself a mort o' -times, and never found no answer. And theer's one curious thing--that, -though he is so pleasant, I wouldn't fare to feel comfortable to try and -get his mind upon 't. He never said a wured to me as warn't as dootiful -as dootiful could be, and it ain't likely as he'd begin to speak any -other ways now; but it's fur from being fleet water in his mind, where -them thowts lays. It's deep, sir, and I can't see down.' - -'You are right,' said I, 'and that has sometimes made me anxious.' - -'And me too, Mas'r Davy,' he rejoined. 'Even more so, I do assure you, -than his ventersome ways, though both belongs to the alteration in him. -I doen't know as he'd do violence under any circumstances, but I hope as -them two may be kep asunders.' - -We had come, through Temple Bar, into the city. Conversing no more now, -and walking at my side, he yielded himself up to the one aim of his -devoted life, and went on, with that hushed concentration of his -faculties which would have made his figure solitary in a multitude. -We were not far from Blackfriars Bridge, when he turned his head and -pointed to a solitary female figure flitting along the opposite side of -the street. I knew it, readily, to be the figure that we sought. - -We crossed the road, and were pressing on towards her, when it occurred -to me that she might be more disposed to feel a woman's interest in the -lost girl, if we spoke to her in a quieter place, aloof from the crowd, -and where we should be less observed. I advised my companion, therefore, -that we should not address her yet, but follow her; consulting in this, -likewise, an indistinct desire I had, to know where she went. - -He acquiescing, we followed at a distance: never losing sight of her, -but never caring to come very near, as she frequently looked about. -Once, she stopped to listen to a band of music; and then we stopped too. - -She went on a long way. Still we went on. It was evident, from the -manner in which she held her course, that she was going to some fixed -destination; and this, and her keeping in the busy streets, and I -suppose the strange fascination in the secrecy and mystery of so -following anyone, made me adhere to my first purpose. At length she -turned into a dull, dark street, where the noise and crowd were lost; -and I said, 'We may speak to her now'; and, mending our pace, we went -after her. - - -CHAPTER 47. MARTHA - - -We were now down in Westminster. We had turned back to follow her, -having encountered her coming towards us; and Westminster Abbey was -the point at which she passed from the lights and noise of the leading -streets. She proceeded so quickly, when she got free of the two currents -of passengers setting towards and from the bridge, that, between this -and the advance she had of us when she struck off, we were in the narrow -water-side street by Millbank before we came up with her. At that moment -she crossed the road, as if to avoid the footsteps that she heard so -close behind; and, without looking back, passed on even more rapidly. - -A glimpse of the river through a dull gateway, where some waggons were -housed for the night, seemed to arrest my feet. I touched my companion -without speaking, and we both forbore to cross after her, and both -followed on that opposite side of the way; keeping as quietly as we -could in the shadow of the houses, but keeping very near her. - -There was, and is when I write, at the end of that low-lying street, -a dilapidated little wooden building, probably an obsolete old -ferry-house. Its position is just at that point where the street ceases, -and the road begins to lie between a row of houses and the river. As -soon as she came here, and saw the water, she stopped as if she had come -to her destination; and presently went slowly along by the brink of the -river, looking intently at it. - -All the way here, I had supposed that she was going to some house; -indeed, I had vaguely entertained the hope that the house might be in -some way associated with the lost girl. But that one dark glimpse of the -river, through the gateway, had instinctively prepared me for her going -no farther. - -The neighbourhood was a dreary one at that time; as oppressive, sad, and -solitary by night, as any about London. There were neither wharves nor -houses on the melancholy waste of road near the great blank Prison. A -sluggish ditch deposited its mud at the prison walls. Coarse grass and -rank weeds straggled over all the marshy land in the vicinity. In one -part, carcases of houses, inauspiciously begun and never finished, -rotted away. In another, the ground was cumbered with rusty iron -monsters of steam-boilers, wheels, cranks, pipes, furnaces, paddles, -anchors, diving-bells, windmill-sails, and I know not what strange -objects, accumulated by some speculator, and grovelling in the dust, -underneath which--having sunk into the soil of their own weight in wet -weather--they had the appearance of vainly trying to hide themselves. -The clash and glare of sundry fiery Works upon the river-side, arose -by night to disturb everything except the heavy and unbroken smoke that -poured out of their chimneys. Slimy gaps and causeways, winding among -old wooden piles, with a sickly substance clinging to the latter, like -green hair, and the rags of last year's handbills offering rewards for -drowned men fluttering above high-water mark, led down through the ooze -and slush to the ebb-tide. There was a story that one of the pits -dug for the dead in the time of the Great Plague was hereabout; and -a blighting influence seemed to have proceeded from it over the whole -place. Or else it looked as if it had gradually decomposed into that -nightmare condition, out of the overflowings of the polluted stream. - -As if she were a part of the refuse it had cast out, and left to -corruption and decay, the girl we had followed strayed down to the -river's brink, and stood in the midst of this night-picture, lonely and -still, looking at the water. - -There were some boats and barges astrand in the mud, and these enabled -us to come within a few yards of her without being seen. I then signed -to Mr. Peggotty to remain where he was, and emerged from their shade to -speak to her. I did not approach her solitary figure without trembling; -for this gloomy end to her determined walk, and the way in which she -stood, almost within the cavernous shadow of the iron bridge, looking -at the lights crookedly reflected in the strong tide, inspired a dread -within me. - -I think she was talking to herself. I am sure, although absorbed in -gazing at the water, that her shawl was off her shoulders, and that she -was muffling her hands in it, in an unsettled and bewildered way, more -like the action of a sleep-walker than a waking person. I know, and -never can forget, that there was that in her wild manner which gave me -no assurance but that she would sink before my eyes, until I had her arm -within my grasp. - -At the same moment I said 'Martha!' - -She uttered a terrified scream, and struggled with me with such strength -that I doubt if I could have held her alone. But a stronger hand than -mine was laid upon her; and when she raised her frightened eyes and saw -whose it was, she made but one more effort and dropped down between us. -We carried her away from the water to where there were some dry stones, -and there laid her down, crying and moaning. In a little while she sat -among the stones, holding her wretched head with both her hands. - -'Oh, the river!' she cried passionately. 'Oh, the river!' - -'Hush, hush!' said I. 'Calm yourself.' - -But she still repeated the same words, continually exclaiming, 'Oh, the -river!' over and over again. - -'I know it's like me!' she exclaimed. 'I know that I belong to it. -I know that it's the natural company of such as I am! It comes from -country places, where there was once no harm in it--and it creeps -through the dismal streets, defiled and miserable--and it goes away, -like my life, to a great sea, that is always troubled--and I feel that -I must go with it!' I have never known what despair was, except in the -tone of those words. - -'I can't keep away from it. I can't forget it. It haunts me day and -night. It's the only thing in all the world that I am fit for, or that's -fit for me. Oh, the dreadful river!' - -The thought passed through my mind that in the face of my companion, -as he looked upon her without speech or motion, I might have read his -niece's history, if I had known nothing of it. I never saw, in any -painting or reality, horror and compassion so impressively blended. He -shook as if he would have fallen; and his hand--I touched it with my -own, for his appearance alarmed me--was deadly cold. - -'She is in a state of frenzy,' I whispered to him. 'She will speak -differently in a little time.' - -I don't know what he would have said in answer. He made some motion with -his mouth, and seemed to think he had spoken; but he had only pointed to -her with his outstretched hand. - -A new burst of crying came upon her now, in which she once more hid -her face among the stones, and lay before us, a prostrate image of -humiliation and ruin. Knowing that this state must pass, before we could -speak to her with any hope, I ventured to restrain him when he would -have raised her, and we stood by in silence until she became more -tranquil. - -'Martha,' said I then, leaning down, and helping her to rise--she seemed -to want to rise as if with the intention of going away, but she was -weak, and leaned against a boat. 'Do you know who this is, who is with -me?' - -She said faintly, 'Yes.' - -'Do you know that we have followed you a long way tonight?' - -She shook her head. She looked neither at him nor at me, but stood in -a humble attitude, holding her bonnet and shawl in one hand, without -appearing conscious of them, and pressing the other, clenched, against -her forehead. - -'Are you composed enough,' said I, 'to speak on the subject which so -interested you--I hope Heaven may remember it!--that snowy night?' - -Her sobs broke out afresh, and she murmured some inarticulate thanks to -me for not having driven her away from the door. - -'I want to say nothing for myself,' she said, after a few moments. 'I -am bad, I am lost. I have no hope at all. But tell him, sir,' she had -shrunk away from him, 'if you don't feel too hard to me to do it, that -I never was in any way the cause of his misfortune.' 'It has never been -attributed to you,' I returned, earnestly responding to her earnestness. - -'It was you, if I don't deceive myself,' she said, in a broken voice, -'that came into the kitchen, the night she took such pity on me; was so -gentle to me; didn't shrink away from me like all the rest, and gave me -such kind help! Was it you, sir?' - -'It was,' said I. - -'I should have been in the river long ago,' she said, glancing at it -with a terrible expression, 'if any wrong to her had been upon my mind. -I never could have kept out of it a single winter's night, if I had not -been free of any share in that!' - -'The cause of her flight is too well understood,' I said. 'You are -innocent of any part in it, we thoroughly believe,--we know.' - -'Oh, I might have been much the better for her, if I had had a better -heart!' exclaimed the girl, with most forlorn regret; 'for she was -always good to me! She never spoke a word to me but what was pleasant -and right. Is it likely I would try to make her what I am myself, -knowing what I am myself, so well? When I lost everything that makes -life dear, the worst of all my thoughts was that I was parted for ever -from her!' - -Mr. Peggotty, standing with one hand on the gunwale of the boat, and his -eyes cast down, put his disengaged hand before his face. - -'And when I heard what had happened before that snowy night, from some -belonging to our town,' cried Martha, 'the bitterest thought in all my -mind was, that the people would remember she once kept company with me, -and would say I had corrupted her! When, Heaven knows, I would have died -to have brought back her good name!' - -Long unused to any self-control, the piercing agony of her remorse and -grief was terrible. - -'To have died, would not have been much--what can I say?---I would -have lived!' she cried. 'I would have lived to be old, in the wretched -streets--and to wander about, avoided, in the dark--and to see the day -break on the ghastly line of houses, and remember how the same sun used -to shine into my room, and wake me once--I would have done even that, to -save her!' - -Sinking on the stones, she took some in each hand, and clenched them -up, as if she would have ground them. She writhed into some new posture -constantly: stiffening her arms, twisting them before her face, as -though to shut out from her eyes the little light there was, and -drooping her head, as if it were heavy with insupportable recollections. - -'What shall I ever do!' she said, fighting thus with her despair. 'How -can I go on as I am, a solitary curse to myself, a living disgrace to -everyone I come near!' Suddenly she turned to my companion. 'Stamp upon -me, kill me! When she was your pride, you would have thought I had -done her harm if I had brushed against her in the street. You can't -believe--why should you?---a syllable that comes out of my lips. It -would be a burning shame upon you, even now, if she and I exchanged a -word. I don't complain. I don't say she and I are alike--I know there -is a long, long way between us. I only say, with all my guilt and -wretchedness upon my head, that I am grateful to her from my soul, and -love her. Oh, don't think that all the power I had of loving anything is -quite worn out! Throw me away, as all the world does. Kill me for being -what I am, and having ever known her; but don't think that of me!' - -He looked upon her, while she made this supplication, in a wild -distracted manner; and, when she was silent, gently raised her. - -'Martha,' said Mr. Peggotty, 'God forbid as I should judge you. Forbid -as I, of all men, should do that, my girl! You doen't know half the -change that's come, in course of time, upon me, when you think it -likely. Well!' he paused a moment, then went on. 'You doen't understand -how 'tis that this here gentleman and me has wished to speak to you. You -doen't understand what 'tis we has afore us. Listen now!' - -His influence upon her was complete. She stood, shrinkingly, before him, -as if she were afraid to meet his eyes; but her passionate sorrow was -quite hushed and mute. - -'If you heerd,' said Mr. Peggotty, 'owt of what passed between Mas'r -Davy and me, th' night when it snew so hard, you know as I have -been--wheer not--fur to seek my dear niece. My dear niece,' he repeated -steadily. 'Fur she's more dear to me now, Martha, than she was dear -afore.' - -She put her hands before her face; but otherwise remained quiet. - -'I have heerd her tell,' said Mr. Peggotty, 'as you was early left -fatherless and motherless, with no friend fur to take, in a rough -seafaring-way, their place. Maybe you can guess that if you'd had such -a friend, you'd have got into a way of being fond of him in course of -time, and that my niece was kiender daughter-like to me.' - -As she was silently trembling, he put her shawl carefully about her, -taking it up from the ground for that purpose. - -'Whereby,' said he, 'I know, both as she would go to the wureld's -furdest end with me, if she could once see me again; and that she would -fly to the wureld's furdest end to keep off seeing me. For though she -ain't no call to doubt my love, and doen't--and doen't,' he repeated, -with a quiet assurance of the truth of what he said, 'there's shame -steps in, and keeps betwixt us.' - -I read, in every word of his plain impressive way of delivering himself, -new evidence of his having thought of this one topic, in every feature -it presented. - -'According to our reckoning,' he proceeded, 'Mas'r Davy's here, and -mine, she is like, one day, to make her own poor solitary course to -London. We believe--Mas'r Davy, me, and all of us--that you are as -innocent of everything that has befell her, as the unborn child. You've -spoke of her being pleasant, kind, and gentle to you. Bless her, I knew -she was! I knew she always was, to all. You're thankful to her, and you -love her. Help us all you can to find her, and may Heaven reward you!' - -She looked at him hastily, and for the first time, as if she were -doubtful of what he had said. - -'Will you trust me?' she asked, in a low voice of astonishment. - -'Full and free!' said Mr. Peggotty. - -'To speak to her, if I should ever find her; shelter her, if I have any -shelter to divide with her; and then, without her knowledge, come to -you, and bring you to her?' she asked hurriedly. - -We both replied together, 'Yes!' - -She lifted up her eyes, and solemnly declared that she would devote -herself to this task, fervently and faithfully. That she would never -waver in it, never be diverted from it, never relinquish it, while there -was any chance of hope. If she were not true to it, might the object -she now had in life, which bound her to something devoid of evil, in its -passing away from her, leave her more forlorn and more despairing, if -that were possible, than she had been upon the river's brink that night; -and then might all help, human and Divine, renounce her evermore! - -She did not raise her voice above her breath, or address us, but said -this to the night sky; then stood profoundly quiet, looking at the -gloomy water. - -We judged it expedient, now, to tell her all we knew; which I recounted -at length. She listened with great attention, and with a face that often -changed, but had the same purpose in all its varying expressions. Her -eyes occasionally filled with tears, but those she repressed. It seemed -as if her spirit were quite altered, and she could not be too quiet. - -She asked, when all was told, where we were to be communicated with, if -occasion should arise. Under a dull lamp in the road, I wrote our two -addresses on a leaf of my pocket-book, which I tore out and gave to -her, and which she put in her poor bosom. I asked her where she lived -herself. She said, after a pause, in no place long. It were better not -to know. - -Mr. Peggotty suggesting to me, in a whisper, what had already occurred -to myself, I took out my purse; but I could not prevail upon her to -accept any money, nor could I exact any promise from her that she would -do so at another time. I represented to her that Mr. Peggotty could -not be called, for one in his condition, poor; and that the idea of her -engaging in this search, while depending on her own resources, shocked -us both. She continued steadfast. In this particular, his influence -upon her was equally powerless with mine. She gratefully thanked him but -remained inexorable. - -'There may be work to be got,' she said. 'I'll try.' - -'At least take some assistance,' I returned, 'until you have tried.' - -'I could not do what I have promised, for money,' she replied. 'I could -not take it, if I was starving. To give me money would be to take away -your trust, to take away the object that you have given me, to take away -the only certain thing that saves me from the river.' - -'In the name of the great judge,' said I, 'before whom you and all of us -must stand at His dread time, dismiss that terrible idea! We can all do -some good, if we will.' - -She trembled, and her lip shook, and her face was paler, as she -answered: - -'It has been put into your hearts, perhaps, to save a wretched creature -for repentance. I am afraid to think so; it seems too bold. If any good -should come of me, I might begin to hope; for nothing but harm has ever -come of my deeds yet. I am to be trusted, for the first time in a long -while, with my miserable life, on account of what you have given me to -try for. I know no more, and I can say no more.' - -Again she repressed the tears that had begun to flow; and, putting out -her trembling hand, and touching Mr. Peggotty, as if there was some -healing virtue in him, went away along the desolate road. She had been -ill, probably for a long time. I observed, upon that closer opportunity -of observation, that she was worn and haggard, and that her sunken eyes -expressed privation and endurance. - -We followed her at a short distance, our way lying in the same -direction, until we came back into the lighted and populous streets. I -had such implicit confidence in her declaration, that I then put it to -Mr. Peggotty, whether it would not seem, in the onset, like distrusting -her, to follow her any farther. He being of the same mind, and equally -reliant on her, we suffered her to take her own road, and took ours, -which was towards Highgate. He accompanied me a good part of the way; -and when we parted, with a prayer for the success of this fresh effort, -there was a new and thoughtful compassion in him that I was at no loss -to interpret. - -It was midnight when I arrived at home. I had reached my own gate, and -was standing listening for the deep bell of St. Paul's, the sound -of which I thought had been borne towards me among the multitude of -striking clocks, when I was rather surprised to see that the door of my -aunt's cottage was open, and that a faint light in the entry was shining -out across the road. - -Thinking that my aunt might have relapsed into one of her old alarms, -and might be watching the progress of some imaginary conflagration in -the distance, I went to speak to her. It was with very great surprise -that I saw a man standing in her little garden. - -He had a glass and bottle in his hand, and was in the act of drinking. I -stopped short, among the thick foliage outside, for the moon was up now, -though obscured; and I recognized the man whom I had once supposed to be -a delusion of Mr. Dick's, and had once encountered with my aunt in the -streets of the city. - -He was eating as well as drinking, and seemed to eat with a hungry -appetite. He seemed curious regarding the cottage, too, as if it were -the first time he had seen it. After stooping to put the bottle on the -ground, he looked up at the windows, and looked about; though with a -covert and impatient air, as if he was anxious to be gone. - -The light in the passage was obscured for a moment, and my aunt came -out. She was agitated, and told some money into his hand. I heard it -chink. - -'What's the use of this?' he demanded. - -'I can spare no more,' returned my aunt. - -'Then I can't go,' said he. 'Here! You may take it back!' - -'You bad man,' returned my aunt, with great emotion; 'how can you use me -so? But why do I ask? It is because you know how weak I am! What have -I to do, to free myself for ever of your visits, but to abandon you to -your deserts?' - -'And why don't you abandon me to my deserts?' said he. - -'You ask me why!' returned my aunt. 'What a heart you must have!' - -He stood moodily rattling the money, and shaking his head, until at -length he said: - -'Is this all you mean to give me, then?' - -'It is all I CAN give you,' said my aunt. 'You know I have had losses, -and am poorer than I used to be. I have told you so. Having got it, why -do you give me the pain of looking at you for another moment, and seeing -what you have become?' - -'I have become shabby enough, if you mean that,' he said. 'I lead the -life of an owl.' - -'You stripped me of the greater part of all I ever had,' said my aunt. -'You closed my heart against the whole world, years and years. You -treated me falsely, ungratefully, and cruelly. Go, and repent of it. -Don't add new injuries to the long, long list of injuries you have done -me!' - -'Aye!' he returned. 'It's all very fine--Well! I must do the best I can, -for the present, I suppose.' - -In spite of himself, he appeared abashed by my aunt's indignant tears, -and came slouching out of the garden. Taking two or three quick steps, -as if I had just come up, I met him at the gate, and went in as he came -out. We eyed one another narrowly in passing, and with no favour. - -'Aunt,' said I, hurriedly. 'This man alarming you again! Let me speak to -him. Who is he?' - -'Child,' returned my aunt, taking my arm, 'come in, and don't speak to -me for ten minutes.' - -We sat down in her little parlour. My aunt retired behind the round -green fan of former days, which was screwed on the back of a chair, and -occasionally wiped her eyes, for about a quarter of an hour. Then she -came out, and took a seat beside me. - -'Trot,' said my aunt, calmly, 'it's my husband.' - -'Your husband, aunt? I thought he had been dead!' - -'Dead to me,' returned my aunt, 'but living.' - -I sat in silent amazement. - -'Betsey Trotwood don't look a likely subject for the tender passion,' -said my aunt, composedly, 'but the time was, Trot, when she believed in -that man most entirely. When she loved him, Trot, right well. When there -was no proof of attachment and affection that she would not have given -him. He repaid her by breaking her fortune, and nearly breaking her -heart. So she put all that sort of sentiment, once and for ever, in a -grave, and filled it up, and flattened it down.' - -'My dear, good aunt!' - -'I left him,' my aunt proceeded, laying her hand as usual on the back of -mine, 'generously. I may say at this distance of time, Trot, that I left -him generously. He had been so cruel to me, that I might have effected -a separation on easy terms for myself; but I did not. He soon made ducks -and drakes of what I gave him, sank lower and lower, married another -woman, I believe, became an adventurer, a gambler, and a cheat. What he -is now, you see. But he was a fine-looking man when I married him,' said -my aunt, with an echo of her old pride and admiration in her tone; 'and -I believed him--I was a fool!--to be the soul of honour!' - -She gave my hand a squeeze, and shook her head. - -'He is nothing to me now, Trot--less than nothing. But, sooner than have -him punished for his offences (as he would be if he prowled about in -this country), I give him more money than I can afford, at intervals -when he reappears, to go away. I was a fool when I married him; and I am -so far an incurable fool on that subject, that, for the sake of what -I once believed him to be, I wouldn't have even this shadow of my idle -fancy hardly dealt with. For I was in earnest, Trot, if ever a woman -was.' - -My aunt dismissed the matter with a heavy sigh, and smoothed her dress. - -'There, my dear!' she said. 'Now you know the beginning, middle, and -end, and all about it. We won't mention the subject to one another any -more; neither, of course, will you mention it to anybody else. This is -my grumpy, frumpy story, and we'll keep it to ourselves, Trot!' - - - -CHAPTER 48. DOMESTIC - - -I laboured hard at my book, without allowing it to interfere with the -punctual discharge of my newspaper duties; and it came out and was very -successful. I was not stunned by the praise which sounded in my ears, -notwithstanding that I was keenly alive to it, and thought better of -my own performance, I have little doubt, than anybody else did. It has -always been in my observation of human nature, that a man who has any -good reason to believe in himself never flourishes himself before the -faces of other people in order that they may believe in him. For this -reason, I retained my modesty in very self-respect; and the more praise -I got, the more I tried to deserve. - -It is not my purpose, in this record, though in all other essentials -it is my written memory, to pursue the history of my own fictions. They -express themselves, and I leave them to themselves. When I refer to -them, incidentally, it is only as a part of my progress. - -Having some foundation for believing, by this time, that nature and -accident had made me an author, I pursued my vocation with confidence. -Without such assurance I should certainly have left it alone, and -bestowed my energy on some other endeavour. I should have tried to find -out what nature and accident really had made me, and to be that, and -nothing else. I had been writing, in the newspaper and elsewhere, so -prosperously, that when my new success was achieved, I considered myself -reasonably entitled to escape from the dreary debates. One joyful night, -therefore, I noted down the music of the parliamentary bagpipes for the -last time, and I have never heard it since; though I still recognize the -old drone in the newspapers, without any substantial variation (except, -perhaps, that there is more of it), all the livelong session. - -I now write of the time when I had been married, I suppose, about a year -and a half. After several varieties of experiment, we had given up the -housekeeping as a bad job. The house kept itself, and we kept a page. -The principal function of this retainer was to quarrel with the cook; -in which respect he was a perfect Whittington, without his cat, or the -remotest chance of being made Lord Mayor. - -He appears to me to have lived in a hail of saucepan-lids. His whole -existence was a scuffle. He would shriek for help on the most improper -occasions,--as when we had a little dinner-party, or a few friends in -the evening,--and would come tumbling out of the kitchen, with iron -missiles flying after him. We wanted to get rid of him, but he was very -much attached to us, and wouldn't go. He was a tearful boy, and broke -into such deplorable lamentations, when a cessation of our connexion -was hinted at, that we were obliged to keep him. He had no mother--no -anything in the way of a relative, that I could discover, except a -sister, who fled to America the moment we had taken him off her hands; -and he became quartered on us like a horrible young changeling. He had -a lively perception of his own unfortunate state, and was always rubbing -his eyes with the sleeve of his jacket, or stooping to blow his nose on -the extreme corner of a little pocket-handkerchief, which he never would -take completely out of his pocket, but always economized and secreted. - -This unlucky page, engaged in an evil hour at six pounds ten per annum, -was a source of continual trouble to me. I watched him as he grew--and -he grew like scarlet beans--with painful apprehensions of the time when -he would begin to shave; even of the days when he would be bald or grey. -I saw no prospect of ever getting rid of him; and, projecting myself -into the future, used to think what an inconvenience he would be when he -was an old man. - -I never expected anything less, than this unfortunate's manner of -getting me out of my difficulty. He stole Dora's watch, which, like -everything else belonging to us, had no particular place of its own; -and, converting it into money, spent the produce (he was always a -weak-minded boy) in incessantly riding up and down between London and -Uxbridge outside the coach. He was taken to Bow Street, as well as -I remember, on the completion of his fifteenth journey; when -four-and-sixpence, and a second-hand fife which he couldn't play, were -found upon his person. - -The surprise and its consequences would have been much less disagreeable -to me if he had not been penitent. But he was very penitent indeed, and -in a peculiar way--not in the lump, but by instalments. For example: -the day after that on which I was obliged to appear against him, he made -certain revelations touching a hamper in the cellar, which we believed -to be full of wine, but which had nothing in it except bottles and -corks. We supposed he had now eased his mind, and told the worst he knew -of the cook; but, a day or two afterwards, his conscience sustained a -new twinge, and he disclosed how she had a little girl, who, early every -morning, took away our bread; and also how he himself had been suborned -to maintain the milkman in coals. In two or three days more, I was -informed by the authorities of his having led to the discovery of -sirloins of beef among the kitchen-stuff, and sheets in the rag-bag. A -little while afterwards, he broke out in an entirely new direction, and -confessed to a knowledge of burglarious intentions as to our premises, -on the part of the pot-boy, who was immediately taken up. I got to be so -ashamed of being such a victim, that I would have given him any money -to hold his tongue, or would have offered a round bribe for his being -permitted to run away. It was an aggravating circumstance in the case -that he had no idea of this, but conceived that he was making me amends -in every new discovery: not to say, heaping obligations on my head. - -At last I ran away myself, whenever I saw an emissary of the police -approaching with some new intelligence; and lived a stealthy life until -he was tried and ordered to be transported. Even then he couldn't be -quiet, but was always writing us letters; and wanted so much to see Dora -before he went away, that Dora went to visit him, and fainted when she -found herself inside the iron bars. In short, I had no peace of my life -until he was expatriated, and made (as I afterwards heard) a shepherd -of, 'up the country' somewhere; I have no geographical idea where. - -All this led me into some serious reflections, and presented our -mistakes in a new aspect; as I could not help communicating to Dora one -evening, in spite of my tenderness for her. - -'My love,' said I, 'it is very painful to me to think that our want of -system and management, involves not only ourselves (which we have got -used to), but other people.' - -'You have been silent for a long time, and now you are going to be -cross!' said Dora. - -'No, my dear, indeed! Let me explain to you what I mean.' - -'I think I don't want to know,' said Dora. - -'But I want you to know, my love. Put Jip down.' - -Dora put his nose to mine, and said 'Boh!' to drive my seriousness away; -but, not succeeding, ordered him into his Pagoda, and sat looking at -me, with her hands folded, and a most resigned little expression of -countenance. - -'The fact is, my dear,' I began, 'there is contagion in us. We infect -everyone about us.' - -I might have gone on in this figurative manner, if Dora's face had not -admonished me that she was wondering with all her might whether I was -going to propose any new kind of vaccination, or other medical remedy, -for this unwholesome state of ours. Therefore I checked myself, and made -my meaning plainer. - -'It is not merely, my pet,' said I, 'that we lose money and comfort, and -even temper sometimes, by not learning to be more careful; but that we -incur the serious responsibility of spoiling everyone who comes into -our service, or has any dealings with us. I begin to be afraid that the -fault is not entirely on one side, but that these people all turn out -ill because we don't turn out very well ourselves.' - -'Oh, what an accusation,' exclaimed Dora, opening her eyes wide; 'to say -that you ever saw me take gold watches! Oh!' - -'My dearest,' I remonstrated, 'don't talk preposterous nonsense! Who has -made the least allusion to gold watches?' - -'You did,' returned Dora. 'You know you did. You said I hadn't turned -out well, and compared me to him.' - -'To whom?' I asked. - -'To the page,' sobbed Dora. 'Oh, you cruel fellow, to compare your -affectionate wife to a transported page! Why didn't you tell me -your opinion of me before we were married? Why didn't you say, -you hard-hearted thing, that you were convinced I was worse than a -transported page? Oh, what a dreadful opinion to have of me! Oh, my -goodness!' - -'Now, Dora, my love,' I returned, gently trying to remove the -handkerchief she pressed to her eyes, 'this is not only very ridiculous -of you, but very wrong. In the first place, it's not true.' - -'You always said he was a story-teller,' sobbed Dora. 'And now you say -the same of me! Oh, what shall I do! What shall I do!' - -'My darling girl,' I retorted, 'I really must entreat you to be -reasonable, and listen to what I did say, and do say. My dear Dora, -unless we learn to do our duty to those whom we employ, they will never -learn to do their duty to us. I am afraid we present opportunities to -people to do wrong, that never ought to be presented. Even if we were -as lax as we are, in all our arrangements, by choice--which we are -not--even if we liked it, and found it agreeable to be so--which we -don't--I am persuaded we should have no right to go on in this way. We -are positively corrupting people. We are bound to think of that. I can't -help thinking of it, Dora. It is a reflection I am unable to dismiss, -and it sometimes makes me very uneasy. There, dear, that's all. Come -now. Don't be foolish!' - -Dora would not allow me, for a long time, to remove the handkerchief. -She sat sobbing and murmuring behind it, that, if I was uneasy, why had -I ever been married? Why hadn't I said, even the day before we went to -church, that I knew I should be uneasy, and I would rather not? If I -couldn't bear her, why didn't I send her away to her aunts at Putney, or -to Julia Mills in India? Julia would be glad to see her, and would not -call her a transported page; Julia never had called her anything of the -sort. In short, Dora was so afflicted, and so afflicted me by being -in that condition, that I felt it was of no use repeating this kind of -effort, though never so mildly, and I must take some other course. - -What other course was left to take? To 'form her mind'? This was a -common phrase of words which had a fair and promising sound, and I -resolved to form Dora's mind. - -I began immediately. When Dora was very childish, and I would -have infinitely preferred to humour her, I tried to be grave--and -disconcerted her, and myself too. I talked to her on the subjects which -occupied my thoughts; and I read Shakespeare to her--and fatigued her -to the last degree. I accustomed myself to giving her, as it were quite -casually, little scraps of useful information, or sound opinion--and she -started from them when I let them off, as if they had been crackers. -No matter how incidentally or naturally I endeavoured to form my little -wife's mind, I could not help seeing that she always had an instinctive -perception of what I was about, and became a prey to the keenest -apprehensions. In particular, it was clear to me, that she thought -Shakespeare a terrible fellow. The formation went on very slowly. - -I pressed Traddles into the service without his knowledge; and whenever -he came to see us, exploded my mines upon him for the edification of -Dora at second hand. The amount of practical wisdom I bestowed upon -Traddles in this manner was immense, and of the best quality; but it -had no other effect upon Dora than to depress her spirits, and make her -always nervous with the dread that it would be her turn next. I found -myself in the condition of a schoolmaster, a trap, a pitfall; of always -playing spider to Dora's fly, and always pouncing out of my hole to her -infinite disturbance. - -Still, looking forward through this intermediate stage, to the time -when there should be a perfect sympathy between Dora and me, and when I -should have 'formed her mind' to my entire satisfaction, I persevered, -even for months. Finding at last, however, that, although I had been -all this time a very porcupine or hedgehog, bristling all over with -determination, I had effected nothing, it began to occur to me that -perhaps Dora's mind was already formed. - -On further consideration this appeared so likely, that I abandoned -my scheme, which had had a more promising appearance in words than in -action; resolving henceforth to be satisfied with my child-wife, and to -try to change her into nothing else by any process. I was heartily tired -of being sagacious and prudent by myself, and of seeing my darling under -restraint; so I bought a pretty pair of ear-rings for her, and a collar -for Jip, and went home one day to make myself agreeable. - -Dora was delighted with the little presents, and kissed me joyfully; but -there was a shadow between us, however slight, and I had made up my mind -that it should not be there. If there must be such a shadow anywhere, I -would keep it for the future in my own breast. - -I sat down by my wife on the sofa, and put the ear-rings in her ears; -and then I told her that I feared we had not been quite as good company -lately, as we used to be, and that the fault was mine. Which I sincerely -felt, and which indeed it was. - -'The truth is, Dora, my life,' I said; 'I have been trying to be wise.' - -'And to make me wise too,' said Dora, timidly. 'Haven't you, Doady?' - -I nodded assent to the pretty inquiry of the raised eyebrows, and kissed -the parted lips. - -'It's of not a bit of use,' said Dora, shaking her head, until the -ear-rings rang again. 'You know what a little thing I am, and what I -wanted you to call me from the first. If you can't do so, I am afraid -you'll never like me. Are you sure you don't think, sometimes, it would -have been better to have--' - -'Done what, my dear?' For she made no effort to proceed. - -'Nothing!' said Dora. - -'Nothing?' I repeated. - -She put her arms round my neck, and laughed, and called herself by her -favourite name of a goose, and hid her face on my shoulder in such a -profusion of curls that it was quite a task to clear them away and see -it. - -'Don't I think it would have been better to have done nothing, than to -have tried to form my little wife's mind?' said I, laughing at myself. -'Is that the question? Yes, indeed, I do.' - -'Is that what you have been trying?' cried Dora. 'Oh what a shocking -boy!' - -'But I shall never try any more,' said I. 'For I love her dearly as she -is.' - -'Without a story--really?' inquired Dora, creeping closer to me. - -'Why should I seek to change,' said I, 'what has been so precious to me -for so long! You never can show better than as your own natural self, my -sweet Dora; and we'll try no conceited experiments, but go back to our -old way, and be happy.' - -'And be happy!' returned Dora. 'Yes! All day! And you won't mind things -going a tiny morsel wrong, sometimes?' - -'No, no,' said I. 'We must do the best we can.' - -'And you won't tell me, any more, that we make other people bad,' coaxed -Dora; 'will you? Because you know it's so dreadfully cross!' - -'No, no,' said I. - -'It's better for me to be stupid than uncomfortable, isn't it?' said -Dora. - -'Better to be naturally Dora than anything else in the world.' - -'In the world! Ah, Doady, it's a large place!' - -She shook her head, turned her delighted bright eyes up to mine, kissed -me, broke into a merry laugh, and sprang away to put on Jip's new -collar. - -So ended my last attempt to make any change in Dora. I had been unhappy -in trying it; I could not endure my own solitary wisdom; I could not -reconcile it with her former appeal to me as my child-wife. I resolved -to do what I could, in a quiet way, to improve our proceedings myself, -but I foresaw that my utmost would be very little, or I must degenerate -into the spider again, and be for ever lying in wait. - -And the shadow I have mentioned, that was not to be between us any more, -but was to rest wholly on my own heart? How did that fall? - -The old unhappy feeling pervaded my life. It was deepened, if it were -changed at all; but it was as undefined as ever, and addressed me like -a strain of sorrowful music faintly heard in the night. I loved my wife -dearly, and I was happy; but the happiness I had vaguely anticipated, -once, was not the happiness I enjoyed, and there was always something -wanting. - -In fulfilment of the compact I have made with myself, to reflect my mind -on this paper, I again examine it, closely, and bring its secrets to the -light. What I missed, I still regarded--I always regarded--as something -that had been a dream of my youthful fancy; that was incapable of -realization; that I was now discovering to be so, with some natural -pain, as all men did. But that it would have been better for me if my -wife could have helped me more, and shared the many thoughts in which I -had no partner; and that this might have been; I knew. - -Between these two irreconcilable conclusions: the one, that what I felt -was general and unavoidable; the other, that it was particular to me, -and might have been different: I balanced curiously, with no distinct -sense of their opposition to each other. When I thought of the airy -dreams of youth that are incapable of realization, I thought of the -better state preceding manhood that I had outgrown; and then the -contented days with Agnes, in the dear old house, arose before me, like -spectres of the dead, that might have some renewal in another world, but -never more could be reanimated here. - -Sometimes, the speculation came into my thoughts, What might have -happened, or what would have happened, if Dora and I had never known -each other? But she was so incorporated with my existence, that it -was the idlest of all fancies, and would soon rise out of my reach and -sight, like gossamer floating in the air. - -I always loved her. What I am describing, slumbered, and half awoke, and -slept again, in the innermost recesses of my mind. There was no evidence -of it in me; I know of no influence it had in anything I said or did. I -bore the weight of all our little cares, and all my projects; Dora held -the pens; and we both felt that our shares were adjusted as the case -required. She was truly fond of me, and proud of me; and when Agnes -wrote a few earnest words in her letters to Dora, of the pride and -interest with which my old friends heard of my growing reputation, and -read my book as if they heard me speaking its contents, Dora read them -out to me with tears of joy in her bright eyes, and said I was a dear -old clever, famous boy. - -'The first mistaken impulse of an undisciplined heart.' Those words of -Mrs. Strong's were constantly recurring to me, at this time; were almost -always present to my mind. I awoke with them, often, in the night; I -remember to have even read them, in dreams, inscribed upon the walls -of houses. For I knew, now, that my own heart was undisciplined when it -first loved Dora; and that if it had been disciplined, it never -could have felt, when we were married, what it had felt in its secret -experience. - -'There can be no disparity in marriage, like unsuitability of mind and -purpose.' Those words I remembered too. I had endeavoured to adapt -Dora to myself, and found it impracticable. It remained for me to adapt -myself to Dora; to share with her what I could, and be happy; to bear -on my own shoulders what I must, and be happy still. This was the -discipline to which I tried to bring my heart, when I began to think. -It made my second year much happier than my first; and, what was better -still, made Dora's life all sunshine. - -But, as that year wore on, Dora was not strong. I had hoped that lighter -hands than mine would help to mould her character, and that a baby-smile -upon her breast might change my child-wife to a woman. It was not to be. -The spirit fluttered for a moment on the threshold of its little prison, -and, unconscious of captivity, took wing. - -'When I can run about again, as I used to do, aunt,' said Dora, 'I shall -make Jip race. He is getting quite slow and lazy.' - -'I suspect, my dear,' said my aunt quietly working by her side, 'he has -a worse disorder than that. Age, Dora.' - -'Do you think he is old?' said Dora, astonished. 'Oh, how strange it -seems that Jip should be old!' - -'It's a complaint we are all liable to, Little One, as we get on in -life,' said my aunt, cheerfully; 'I don't feel more free from it than I -used to be, I assure you.' - -'But Jip,' said Dora, looking at him with compassion, 'even little Jip! -Oh, poor fellow!' - -'I dare say he'll last a long time yet, Blossom,' said my aunt, patting -Dora on the cheek, as she leaned out of her couch to look at Jip, who -responded by standing on his hind legs, and baulking himself in various -asthmatic attempts to scramble up by the head and shoulders. 'He must -have a piece of flannel in his house this winter, and I shouldn't wonder -if he came out quite fresh again, with the flowers in the spring. Bless -the little dog!' exclaimed my aunt, 'if he had as many lives as a cat, -and was on the point of losing 'em all, he'd bark at me with his last -breath, I believe!' - -Dora had helped him up on the sofa; where he really was defying my aunt -to such a furious extent, that he couldn't keep straight, but barked -himself sideways. The more my aunt looked at him, the more he reproached -her; for she had lately taken to spectacles, and for some inscrutable -reason he considered the glasses personal. - -Dora made him lie down by her, with a good deal of persuasion; and when -he was quiet, drew one of his long ears through and through her hand, -repeating thoughtfully, 'Even little Jip! Oh, poor fellow!' - -'His lungs are good enough,' said my aunt, gaily, 'and his dislikes are -not at all feeble. He has a good many years before him, no doubt. But if -you want a dog to race with, Little Blossom, he has lived too well for -that, and I'll give you one.' - -'Thank you, aunt,' said Dora, faintly. 'But don't, please!' - -'No?' said my aunt, taking off her spectacles. - -'I couldn't have any other dog but Jip,' said Dora. 'It would be so -unkind to Jip! Besides, I couldn't be such friends with any other dog -but Jip; because he wouldn't have known me before I was married, -and wouldn't have barked at Doady when he first came to our house. I -couldn't care for any other dog but Jip, I am afraid, aunt.' - -'To be sure!' said my aunt, patting her cheek again. 'You are right.' - -'You are not offended,' said Dora. 'Are you?' - -'Why, what a sensitive pet it is!' cried my aunt, bending over her -affectionately. 'To think that I could be offended!' - -'No, no, I didn't really think so,' returned Dora; 'but I am a little -tired, and it made me silly for a moment--I am always a silly little -thing, you know, but it made me more silly--to talk about Jip. He -has known me in all that has happened to me, haven't you, Jip? And I -couldn't bear to slight him, because he was a little altered--could I, -Jip?' - -Jip nestled closer to his mistress, and lazily licked her hand. - -'You are not so old, Jip, are you, that you'll leave your mistress yet?' -said Dora. 'We may keep one another company a little longer!' - -My pretty Dora! When she came down to dinner on the ensuing Sunday, and -was so glad to see old Traddles (who always dined with us on Sunday), we -thought she would be 'running about as she used to do', in a few days. -But they said, wait a few days more; and then, wait a few days more; and -still she neither ran nor walked. She looked very pretty, and was very -merry; but the little feet that used to be so nimble when they danced -round Jip, were dull and motionless. - -I began to carry her downstairs every morning, and upstairs every night. -She would clasp me round the neck and laugh, the while, as if I did it -for a wager. Jip would bark and caper round us, and go on before, and -look back on the landing, breathing short, to see that we were coming. -My aunt, the best and most cheerful of nurses, would trudge after us, a -moving mass of shawls and pillows. Mr. Dick would not have relinquished -his post of candle-bearer to anyone alive. Traddles would be often at -the bottom of the staircase, looking on, and taking charge of sportive -messages from Dora to the dearest girl in the world. We made quite a gay -procession of it, and my child-wife was the gayest there. - -But, sometimes, when I took her up, and felt that she was lighter in -my arms, a dead blank feeling came upon me, as if I were approaching -to some frozen region yet unseen, that numbed my life. I avoided the -recognition of this feeling by any name, or by any communing with -myself; until one night, when it was very strong upon me, and my aunt -had left her with a parting cry of 'Good night, Little Blossom,' I sat -down at my desk alone, and tried to think, Oh what a fatal name it was, -and how the blossom withered in its bloom upon the tree! - - -CHAPTER 49. I AM INVOLVED IN MYSTERY - - -I received one morning by the post, the following letter, dated -Canterbury, and addressed to me at Doctor's Commons; which I read with -some surprise: - - -'MY DEAR SIR, - -'Circumstances beyond my individual control have, for a considerable -lapse of time, effected a severance of that intimacy which, in the -limited opportunities conceded to me in the midst of my professional -duties, of contemplating the scenes and events of the past, tinged by -the prismatic hues of memory, has ever afforded me, as it ever must -continue to afford, gratifying emotions of no common description. This -fact, my dear sir, combined with the distinguished elevation to which -your talents have raised you, deters me from presuming to aspire to -the liberty of addressing the companion of my youth, by the familiar -appellation of Copperfield! It is sufficient to know that the name to -which I do myself the honour to refer, will ever be treasured among -the muniments of our house (I allude to the archives connected with our -former lodgers, preserved by Mrs. Micawber), with sentiments of personal -esteem amounting to affection. - -'It is not for one, situated, through his original errors and a -fortuitous combination of unpropitious events, as is the foundered Bark -(if he may be allowed to assume so maritime a denomination), who -now takes up the pen to address you--it is not, I repeat, for one -so circumstanced, to adopt the language of compliment, or of -congratulation. That he leaves to abler and to purer hands. - -'If your more important avocations should admit of your ever tracing -these imperfect characters thus far--which may be, or may not be, as -circumstances arise--you will naturally inquire by what object am I -influenced, then, in inditing the present missive? Allow me to say that -I fully defer to the reasonable character of that inquiry, and proceed -to develop it; premising that it is not an object of a pecuniary nature. - -'Without more directly referring to any latent ability that may -possibly exist on my part, of wielding the thunderbolt, or directing -the devouring and avenging flame in any quarter, I may be permitted -to observe, in passing, that my brightest visions are for ever -dispelled--that my peace is shattered and my power of enjoyment -destroyed--that my heart is no longer in the right place--and that I no -more walk erect before my fellow man. The canker is in the flower. -The cup is bitter to the brim. The worm is at his work, and will soon -dispose of his victim. The sooner the better. But I will not digress. -'Placed in a mental position of peculiar painfulness, beyond the -assuaging reach even of Mrs. Micawber's influence, though exercised in -the tripartite character of woman, wife, and mother, it is my intention -to fly from myself for a short period, and devote a respite of -eight-and-forty hours to revisiting some metropolitan scenes of past -enjoyment. Among other havens of domestic tranquillity and peace of -mind, my feet will naturally tend towards the King's Bench Prison. In -stating that I shall be (D. V.) on the outside of the south wall of -that place of incarceration on civil process, the day after tomorrow, -at seven in the evening, precisely, my object in this epistolary -communication is accomplished. - -'I do not feel warranted in soliciting my former friend Mr. Copperfield, -or my former friend Mr. Thomas Traddles of the Inner Temple, if that -gentleman is still existent and forthcoming, to condescend to meet me, -and renew (so far as may be) our past relations of the olden time. I -confine myself to throwing out the observation, that, at the hour and -place I have indicated, may be found such ruined vestiges as yet - - 'Remain, - 'Of - 'A - 'Fallen Tower, - 'WILKINS MICAWBER. - -'P.S. It may be advisable to superadd to the above, the statement that -Mrs. Micawber is not in confidential possession of my intentions.' - - -I read the letter over several times. Making due allowance for Mr. -Micawber's lofty style of composition, and for the extraordinary relish -with which he sat down and wrote long letters on all possible and -impossible occasions, I still believed that something important lay -hidden at the bottom of this roundabout communication. I put it down, -to think about it; and took it up again, to read it once more; and -was still pursuing it, when Traddles found me in the height of my -perplexity. - -'My dear fellow,' said I, 'I never was better pleased to see you. You -come to give me the benefit of your sober judgement at a most opportune -time. I have received a very singular letter, Traddles, from Mr. -Micawber.' - -'No?' cried Traddles. 'You don't say so? And I have received one from -Mrs. Micawber!' - -With that, Traddles, who was flushed with walking, and whose hair, under -the combined effects of exercise and excitement, stood on end as if he -saw a cheerful ghost, produced his letter and made an exchange with me. -I watched him into the heart of Mr. Micawber's letter, and returned the -elevation of eyebrows with which he said "'Wielding the thunderbolt, -or directing the devouring and avenging flame!" Bless me, -Copperfield!'--and then entered on the perusal of Mrs. Micawber's -epistle. - -It ran thus: - - -'My best regards to Mr. Thomas Traddles, and if he should still remember -one who formerly had the happiness of being well acquainted with him, -may I beg a few moments of his leisure time? I assure Mr. T. T. that I -would not intrude upon his kindness, were I in any other position than -on the confines of distraction. - -'Though harrowing to myself to mention, the alienation of Mr. Micawber -(formerly so domesticated) from his wife and family, is the cause of my -addressing my unhappy appeal to Mr. Traddles, and soliciting his best -indulgence. Mr. T. can form no adequate idea of the change in Mr. -Micawber's conduct, of his wildness, of his violence. It has gradually -augmented, until it assumes the appearance of aberration of intellect. -Scarcely a day passes, I assure Mr. Traddles, on which some paroxysm -does not take place. Mr. T. will not require me to depict my feelings, -when I inform him that I have become accustomed to hear Mr. Micawber -assert that he has sold himself to the D. Mystery and secrecy have -long been his principal characteristic, have long replaced unlimited -confidence. The slightest provocation, even being asked if there is -anything he would prefer for dinner, causes him to express a wish for a -separation. Last night, on being childishly solicited for twopence, to -buy 'lemon-stunners'--a local sweetmeat--he presented an oyster-knife at -the twins! - -'I entreat Mr. Traddles to bear with me in entering into these details. -Without them, Mr. T. would indeed find it difficult to form the faintest -conception of my heart-rending situation. - -'May I now venture to confide to Mr. T. the purport of my letter? Will -he now allow me to throw myself on his friendly consideration? Oh yes, -for I know his heart! - -'The quick eye of affection is not easily blinded, when of the female -sex. Mr. Micawber is going to London. Though he studiously concealed his -hand, this morning before breakfast, in writing the direction-card which -he attached to the little brown valise of happier days, the eagle-glance -of matrimonial anxiety detected, d, o, n, distinctly traced. The -West-End destination of the coach, is the Golden Cross. Dare I fervently -implore Mr. T. to see my misguided husband, and to reason with him? -Dare I ask Mr. T. to endeavour to step in between Mr. Micawber and his -agonized family? Oh no, for that would be too much! - -'If Mr. Copperfield should yet remember one unknown to fame, will Mr. -T. take charge of my unalterable regards and similar entreaties? In -any case, he will have the benevolence to consider this communication -strictly private, and on no account whatever to be alluded to, however -distantly, in the presence of Mr. Micawber. If Mr. T. should ever -reply to it (which I cannot but feel to be most improbable), a letter -addressed to M. E., Post Office, Canterbury, will be fraught with -less painful consequences than any addressed immediately to one, who -subscribes herself, in extreme distress, - -'Mr. Thomas Traddles's respectful friend and suppliant, - - 'EMMA MICAWBER.' - - -'What do you think of that letter?' said Traddles, casting his eyes upon -me, when I had read it twice. - -'What do you think of the other?' said I. For he was still reading it -with knitted brows. - -'I think that the two together, Copperfield,' replied Traddles, -'mean more than Mr. and Mrs. Micawber usually mean in their -correspondence--but I don't know what. They are both written in good -faith, I have no doubt, and without any collusion. Poor thing!' he was -now alluding to Mrs. Micawber's letter, and we were standing side by -side comparing the two; 'it will be a charity to write to her, at all -events, and tell her that we will not fail to see Mr. Micawber.' - -I acceded to this the more readily, because I now reproached myself with -having treated her former letter rather lightly. It had set me thinking -a good deal at the time, as I have mentioned in its place; but my -absorption in my own affairs, my experience of the family, and my -hearing nothing more, had gradually ended in my dismissing the subject. -I had often thought of the Micawbers, but chiefly to wonder what -'pecuniary liabilities' they were establishing in Canterbury, and to -recall how shy Mr. Micawber was of me when he became clerk to Uriah -Heep. - -However, I now wrote a comforting letter to Mrs. Micawber, in our -joint names, and we both signed it. As we walked into town to post it, -Traddles and I held a long conference, and launched into a number of -speculations, which I need not repeat. We took my aunt into our counsels -in the afternoon; but our only decided conclusion was, that we would be -very punctual in keeping Mr. Micawber's appointment. - -Although we appeared at the stipulated place a quarter of an hour before -the time, we found Mr. Micawber already there. He was standing with his -arms folded, over against the wall, looking at the spikes on the top, -with a sentimental expression, as if they were the interlacing boughs of -trees that had shaded him in his youth. - -When we accosted him, his manner was something more confused, and -something less genteel, than of yore. He had relinquished his legal suit -of black for the purposes of this excursion, and wore the old surtout -and tights, but not quite with the old air. He gradually picked up more -and more of it as we conversed with him; but, his very eye-glass seemed -to hang less easily, and his shirt-collar, though still of the old -formidable dimensions, rather drooped. - -'Gentlemen!' said Mr. Micawber, after the first salutations, 'you are -friends in need, and friends indeed. Allow me to offer my inquiries with -reference to the physical welfare of Mrs. Copperfield in esse, and -Mrs. Traddles in posse,--presuming, that is to say, that my friend Mr. -Traddles is not yet united to the object of his affections, for weal and -for woe.' - -We acknowledged his politeness, and made suitable replies. He then -directed our attention to the wall, and was beginning, 'I assure you, -gentlemen,' when I ventured to object to that ceremonious form of -address, and to beg that he would speak to us in the old way. - -'My dear Copperfield,' he returned, pressing my hand, 'your cordiality -overpowers me. This reception of a shattered fragment of the Temple once -called Man--if I may be permitted so to express myself--bespeaks a heart -that is an honour to our common nature. I was about to observe that -I again behold the serene spot where some of the happiest hours of my -existence fleeted by.' - -'Made so, I am sure, by Mrs. Micawber,' said I. 'I hope she is well?' - -'Thank you,' returned Mr. Micawber, whose face clouded at this -reference, 'she is but so-so. And this,' said Mr. Micawber, nodding -his head sorrowfully, 'is the Bench! Where, for the first time in many -revolving years, the overwhelming pressure of pecuniary liabilities was -not proclaimed, from day to day, by importune voices declining to vacate -the passage; where there was no knocker on the door for any creditor -to appeal to; where personal service of process was not required, and -detainees were merely lodged at the gate! Gentlemen,' said Mr. Micawber, -'when the shadow of that iron-work on the summit of the brick structure -has been reflected on the gravel of the Parade, I have seen my children -thread the mazes of the intricate pattern, avoiding the dark marks. I -have been familiar with every stone in the place. If I betray weakness, -you will know how to excuse me.' - -'We have all got on in life since then, Mr. Micawber,' said I. - -'Mr. Copperfield,' returned Mr. Micawber, bitterly, 'when I was an -inmate of that retreat I could look my fellow-man in the face, and punch -his head if he offended me. My fellow-man and myself are no longer on -those glorious terms!' - -Turning from the building in a downcast manner, Mr. Micawber accepted -my proffered arm on one side, and the proffered arm of Traddles on the -other, and walked away between us. - -'There are some landmarks,' observed Mr. Micawber, looking fondly back -over his shoulder, 'on the road to the tomb, which, but for the impiety -of the aspiration, a man would wish never to have passed. Such is the -Bench in my chequered career.' - -'Oh, you are in low spirits, Mr. Micawber,' said Traddles. - -'I am, sir,' interposed Mr. Micawber. - -'I hope,' said Traddles, 'it is not because you have conceived a dislike -to the law--for I am a lawyer myself, you know.' - -Mr. Micawber answered not a word. - -'How is our friend Heep, Mr. Micawber?' said I, after a silence. - -'My dear Copperfield,' returned Mr. Micawber, bursting into a state of -much excitement, and turning pale, 'if you ask after my employer as -YOUR friend, I am sorry for it; if you ask after him as MY friend, -I sardonically smile at it. In whatever capacity you ask after my -employer, I beg, without offence to you, to limit my reply to this--that -whatever his state of health may be, his appearance is foxy: not to -say diabolical. You will allow me, as a private individual, to -decline pursuing a subject which has lashed me to the utmost verge of -desperation in my professional capacity.' - -I expressed my regret for having innocently touched upon a theme -that roused him so much. 'May I ask,' said I, 'without any hazard of -repeating the mistake, how my old friends Mr. and Miss Wickfield are?' - -'Miss Wickfield,' said Mr. Micawber, now turning red, 'is, as she always -is, a pattern, and a bright example. My dear Copperfield, she is the -only starry spot in a miserable existence. My respect for that young -lady, my admiration of her character, my devotion to her for her love -and truth, and goodness!--Take me,' said Mr. Micawber, 'down a turning, -for, upon my soul, in my present state of mind I am not equal to this!' - -We wheeled him off into a narrow street, where he took out his -pocket-handkerchief, and stood with his back to a wall. If I looked as -gravely at him as Traddles did, he must have found our company by no -means inspiriting. - -'It is my fate,' said Mr. Micawber, unfeignedly sobbing, but doing even -that, with a shadow of the old expression of doing something genteel; -'it is my fate, gentlemen, that the finer feelings of our nature have -become reproaches to me. My homage to Miss Wickfield, is a flight of -arrows in my bosom. You had better leave me, if you please, to walk the -earth as a vagabond. The worm will settle my business in double-quick -time.' - -Without attending to this invocation, we stood by, until he put up his -pocket-handkerchief, pulled up his shirt-collar, and, to delude any -person in the neighbourhood who might have been observing him, hummed a -tune with his hat very much on one side. I then mentioned--not knowing -what might be lost if we lost sight of him yet--that it would give me -great pleasure to introduce him to my aunt, if he would ride out to -Highgate, where a bed was at his service. - -'You shall make us a glass of your own punch, Mr. Micawber,' said -I, 'and forget whatever you have on your mind, in pleasanter -reminiscences.' - -'Or, if confiding anything to friends will be more likely to relieve -you, you shall impart it to us, Mr. Micawber,' said Traddles, prudently. - -'Gentlemen,' returned Mr. Micawber, 'do with me as you will! I am a -straw upon the surface of the deep, and am tossed in all directions by -the elephants--I beg your pardon; I should have said the elements.' - -We walked on, arm-in-arm, again; found the coach in the act of starting; -and arrived at Highgate without encountering any difficulties by the -way. I was very uneasy and very uncertain in my mind what to say or do -for the best--so was Traddles, evidently. Mr. Micawber was for the most -part plunged into deep gloom. He occasionally made an attempt to smarten -himself, and hum the fag-end of a tune; but his relapses into profound -melancholy were only made the more impressive by the mockery of a hat -exceedingly on one side, and a shirt-collar pulled up to his eyes. - -We went to my aunt's house rather than to mine, because of Dora's not -being well. My aunt presented herself on being sent for, and welcomed -Mr. Micawber with gracious cordiality. Mr. Micawber kissed her hand, -retired to the window, and pulling out his pocket-handkerchief, had a -mental wrestle with himself. - -Mr. Dick was at home. He was by nature so exceedingly compassionate of -anyone who seemed to be ill at ease, and was so quick to find any such -person out, that he shook hands with Mr. Micawber, at least half-a-dozen -times in five minutes. To Mr. Micawber, in his trouble, this warmth, on -the part of a stranger, was so extremely touching, that he could -only say, on the occasion of each successive shake, 'My dear sir, you -overpower me!' Which gratified Mr. Dick so much, that he went at it -again with greater vigour than before. - -'The friendliness of this gentleman,' said Mr. Micawber to my aunt, 'if -you will allow me, ma'am, to cull a figure of speech from the vocabulary -of our coarser national sports--floors me. To a man who is struggling -with a complicated burden of perplexity and disquiet, such a reception -is trying, I assure you.' - -'My friend Mr. Dick,' replied my aunt proudly, 'is not a common man.' - -'That I am convinced of,' said Mr. Micawber. 'My dear sir!' for Mr. -Dick was shaking hands with him again; 'I am deeply sensible of your -cordiality!' - -'How do you find yourself?' said Mr. Dick, with an anxious look. - -'Indifferent, my dear sir,' returned Mr. Micawber, sighing. - -'You must keep up your spirits,' said Mr. Dick, 'and make yourself as -comfortable as possible.' - -Mr. Micawber was quite overcome by these friendly words, and by finding -Mr. Dick's hand again within his own. 'It has been my lot,' he observed, -'to meet, in the diversified panorama of human existence, with an -occasional oasis, but never with one so green, so gushing, as the -present!' - -At another time I should have been amused by this; but I felt that -we were all constrained and uneasy, and I watched Mr. Micawber so -anxiously, in his vacillations between an evident disposition to reveal -something, and a counter-disposition to reveal nothing, that I was in a -perfect fever. Traddles, sitting on the edge of his chair, with his eyes -wide open, and his hair more emphatically erect than ever, stared by -turns at the ground and at Mr. Micawber, without so much as attempting -to put in a word. My aunt, though I saw that her shrewdest observation -was concentrated on her new guest, had more useful possession of her -wits than either of us; for she held him in conversation, and made it -necessary for him to talk, whether he liked it or not. - -'You are a very old friend of my nephew's, Mr. Micawber,' said my aunt. -'I wish I had had the pleasure of seeing you before.' - -'Madam,' returned Mr. Micawber, 'I wish I had had the honour of knowing -you at an earlier period. I was not always the wreck you at present -behold.' - -'I hope Mrs. Micawber and your family are well, sir,' said my aunt. - -Mr. Micawber inclined his head. 'They are as well, ma'am,' he -desperately observed after a pause, 'as Aliens and Outcasts can ever -hope to be.' - -'Lord bless you, sir!' exclaimed my aunt, in her abrupt way. 'What are -you talking about?' - -'The subsistence of my family, ma'am,' returned Mr. Micawber, 'trembles -in the balance. My employer--' - -Here Mr. Micawber provokingly left off; and began to peel the lemons -that had been under my directions set before him, together with all the -other appliances he used in making punch. - -'Your employer, you know,' said Mr. Dick, jogging his arm as a gentle -reminder. - -'My good sir,' returned Mr. Micawber, 'you recall me, I am obliged to -you.' They shook hands again. 'My employer, ma'am--Mr. Heep--once did -me the favour to observe to me, that if I were not in the receipt of the -stipendiary emoluments appertaining to my engagement with him, I should -probably be a mountebank about the country, swallowing a sword-blade, -and eating the devouring element. For anything that I can perceive to -the contrary, it is still probable that my children may be reduced to -seek a livelihood by personal contortion, while Mrs. Micawber abets -their unnatural feats by playing the barrel-organ.' - -Mr. Micawber, with a random but expressive flourish of his knife, -signified that these performances might be expected to take place after -he was no more; then resumed his peeling with a desperate air. - -My aunt leaned her elbow on the little round table that she usually kept -beside her, and eyed him attentively. Notwithstanding the aversion with -which I regarded the idea of entrapping him into any disclosure he was -not prepared to make voluntarily, I should have taken him up at this -point, but for the strange proceedings in which I saw him engaged; -whereof his putting the lemon-peel into the kettle, the sugar into the -snuffer-tray, the spirit into the empty jug, and confidently attempting -to pour boiling water out of a candlestick, were among the most -remarkable. I saw that a crisis was at hand, and it came. He clattered -all his means and implements together, rose from his chair, pulled out -his pocket-handkerchief, and burst into tears. - -'My dear Copperfield,' said Mr. Micawber, behind his handkerchief, -'this is an occupation, of all others, requiring an untroubled mind, and -self-respect. I cannot perform it. It is out of the question.' - -'Mr. Micawber,' said I, 'what is the matter? Pray speak out. You are -among friends.' - -'Among friends, sir!' repeated Mr. Micawber; and all he had reserved -came breaking out of him. 'Good heavens, it is principally because I AM -among friends that my state of mind is what it is. What is the matter, -gentlemen? What is NOT the matter? Villainy is the matter; baseness is -the matter; deception, fraud, conspiracy, are the matter; and the name -of the whole atrocious mass is--HEEP!' - -My aunt clapped her hands, and we all started up as if we were -possessed. - -'The struggle is over!' said Mr. Micawber violently gesticulating with -his pocket-handkerchief, and fairly striking out from time to time with -both arms, as if he were swimming under superhuman difficulties. 'I will -lead this life no longer. I am a wretched being, cut off from everything -that makes life tolerable. I have been under a Taboo in that infernal -scoundrel's service. Give me back my wife, give me back my family, -substitute Micawber for the petty wretch who walks about in the boots -at present on my feet, and call upon me to swallow a sword tomorrow, and -I'll do it. With an appetite!' - -I never saw a man so hot in my life. I tried to calm him, that we might -come to something rational; but he got hotter and hotter, and wouldn't -hear a word. - -'I'll put my hand in no man's hand,' said Mr. Micawber, gasping, -puffing, and sobbing, to that degree that he was like a man -fighting with cold water, 'until I have--blown to -fragments--the--a--detestable--serpent--HEEP! I'll partake of no -one's hospitality, until I have--a--moved Mount Vesuvius--to -eruption--on--a--the abandoned rascal--HEEP! Refreshment--a--underneath -this roof--particularly punch--would--a--choke me--unless--I -had--previously--choked the eyes--out of the head--a--of--interminable -cheat, and liar--HEEP! I--a--I'll know nobody--and--a--say -nothing--and--a--live nowhere--until I have -crushed--to--a--undiscoverable atoms--the--transcendent and immortal -hypocrite and perjurer--HEEP!' - -I really had some fear of Mr. Micawber's dying on the spot. The manner -in which he struggled through these inarticulate sentences, and, -whenever he found himself getting near the name of Heep, fought his way -on to it, dashed at it in a fainting state, and brought it out with a -vehemence little less than marvellous, was frightful; but now, when -he sank into a chair, steaming, and looked at us, with every possible -colour in his face that had no business there, and an endless procession -of lumps following one another in hot haste up his throat, whence they -seemed to shoot into his forehead, he had the appearance of being in -the last extremity. I would have gone to his assistance, but he waved me -off, and wouldn't hear a word. - -'No, Copperfield!--No communication--a--until--Miss -Wickfield--a--redress from wrongs inflicted by consummate -scoundrel--HEEP!' (I am quite convinced he could not have uttered three -words, but for the amazing energy with which this word inspired him when -he felt it coming.) 'Inviolable secret--a--from the whole world--a--no -exceptions--this day week--a--at breakfast-time--a--everybody -present--including aunt--a--and extremely friendly gentleman--to be at -the hotel at Canterbury--a--where--Mrs. Micawber and myself--Auld Lang -Syne in chorus--and--a--will expose intolerable ruffian--HEEP! No more -to say--a--or listen to persuasion--go immediately--not capable--a--bear -society--upon the track of devoted and doomed traitor--HEEP!' - -With this last repetition of the magic word that had kept him going at -all, and in which he surpassed all his previous efforts, Mr. Micawber -rushed out of the house; leaving us in a state of excitement, hope, and -wonder, that reduced us to a condition little better than his own. But -even then his passion for writing letters was too strong to be resisted; -for while we were yet in the height of our excitement, hope, and wonder, -the following pastoral note was brought to me from a neighbouring -tavern, at which he had called to write it:-- - - - 'Most secret and confidential. -'MY DEAR SIR, - -'I beg to be allowed to convey, through you, my apologies to your -excellent aunt for my late excitement. An explosion of a smouldering -volcano long suppressed, was the result of an internal contest more -easily conceived than described. - -'I trust I rendered tolerably intelligible my appointment for the -morning of this day week, at the house of public entertainment at -Canterbury, where Mrs. Micawber and myself had once the honour of -uniting our voices to yours, in the well-known strain of the Immortal -exciseman nurtured beyond the Tweed. - -'The duty done, and act of reparation performed, which can alone enable -me to contemplate my fellow mortal, I shall be known no more. I shall -simply require to be deposited in that place of universal resort, where - - Each in his narrow cell for ever laid, - The rude forefathers of the hamlet sleep, - - '--With the plain Inscription, - - 'WILKINS MICAWBER.' - - - -CHAPTER 50. Mr. PEGGOTTY'S DREAM COMES TRUE - - -By this time, some months had passed since our interview on the bank -of the river with Martha. I had never seen her since, but she had -communicated with Mr. Peggotty on several occasions. Nothing had come of -her zealous intervention; nor could I infer, from what he told me, that -any clue had been obtained, for a moment, to Emily's fate. I confess -that I began to despair of her recovery, and gradually to sink deeper -and deeper into the belief that she was dead. - -His conviction remained unchanged. So far as I know--and I believe -his honest heart was transparent to me--he never wavered again, in his -solemn certainty of finding her. His patience never tired. And, although -I trembled for the agony it might one day be to him to have his strong -assurance shivered at a blow, there was something so religious in it, so -affectingly expressive of its anchor being in the purest depths of -his fine nature, that the respect and honour in which I held him were -exalted every day. - -His was not a lazy trustfulness that hoped, and did no more. He had -been a man of sturdy action all his life, and he knew that in all things -wherein he wanted help he must do his own part faithfully, and help -himself. I have known him set out in the night, on a misgiving that the -light might not be, by some accident, in the window of the old boat, -and walk to Yarmouth. I have known him, on reading something in the -newspaper that might apply to her, take up his stick, and go forth on a -journey of three--or four-score miles. He made his way by sea to Naples, -and back, after hearing the narrative to which Miss Dartle had assisted -me. All his journeys were ruggedly performed; for he was always -steadfast in a purpose of saving money for Emily's sake, when she should -be found. In all this long pursuit, I never heard him repine; I never -heard him say he was fatigued, or out of heart. - -Dora had often seen him since our marriage, and was quite fond of him. -I fancy his figure before me now, standing near her sofa, with his rough -cap in his hand, and the blue eyes of my child-wife raised, with a timid -wonder, to his face. Sometimes of an evening, about twilight, when -he came to talk with me, I would induce him to smoke his pipe in the -garden, as we slowly paced to and fro together; and then, the picture -of his deserted home, and the comfortable air it used to have in my -childish eyes of an evening when the fire was burning, and the wind -moaning round it, came most vividly into my mind. - -One evening, at this hour, he told me that he had found Martha waiting -near his lodging on the preceding night when he came out, and that she -had asked him not to leave London on any account, until he should have -seen her again. - -'Did she tell you why?' I inquired. - -'I asked her, Mas'r Davy,' he replied, 'but it is but few words as she -ever says, and she on'y got my promise and so went away.' - -'Did she say when you might expect to see her again?' I demanded. - -'No, Mas'r Davy,' he returned, drawing his hand thoughtfully down his -face. 'I asked that too; but it was more (she said) than she could -tell.' - -As I had long forborne to encourage him with hopes that hung on threads, -I made no other comment on this information than that I supposed he -would see her soon. Such speculations as it engendered within me I kept -to myself, and those were faint enough. - -I was walking alone in the garden, one evening, about a fortnight -afterwards. I remember that evening well. It was the second in Mr. -Micawber's week of suspense. There had been rain all day, and there was -a damp feeling in the air. The leaves were thick upon the trees, and -heavy with wet; but the rain had ceased, though the sky was still dark; -and the hopeful birds were singing cheerfully. As I walked to and fro -in the garden, and the twilight began to close around me, their little -voices were hushed; and that peculiar silence which belongs to such an -evening in the country when the lightest trees are quite still, save for -the occasional droppings from their boughs, prevailed. - -There was a little green perspective of trellis-work and ivy at the side -of our cottage, through which I could see, from the garden where I was -walking, into the road before the house. I happened to turn my eyes -towards this place, as I was thinking of many things; and I saw a figure -beyond, dressed in a plain cloak. It was bending eagerly towards me, and -beckoning. - -'Martha!' said I, going to it. - -'Can you come with me?' she inquired, in an agitated whisper. 'I have -been to him, and he is not at home. I wrote down where he was to come, -and left it on his table with my own hand. They said he would not be out -long. I have tidings for him. Can you come directly?' - -My answer was, to pass out at the gate immediately. She made a hasty -gesture with her hand, as if to entreat my patience and my silence, -and turned towards London, whence, as her dress betokened, she had come -expeditiously on foot. - -I asked her if that were not our destination? On her motioning Yes, -with the same hasty gesture as before, I stopped an empty coach that was -coming by, and we got into it. When I asked her where the coachman was -to drive, she answered, 'Anywhere near Golden Square! And quick!'--then -shrunk into a corner, with one trembling hand before her face, and the -other making the former gesture, as if she could not bear a voice. - -Now much disturbed, and dazzled with conflicting gleams of hope and -dread, I looked at her for some explanation. But seeing how strongly -she desired to remain quiet, and feeling that it was my own natural -inclination too, at such a time, I did not attempt to break the silence. -We proceeded without a word being spoken. Sometimes she glanced out of -the window, as though she thought we were going slowly, though indeed we -were going fast; but otherwise remained exactly as at first. - -We alighted at one of the entrances to the Square she had mentioned, -where I directed the coach to wait, not knowing but that we might have -some occasion for it. She laid her hand on my arm, and hurried me on -to one of the sombre streets, of which there are several in that part, -where the houses were once fair dwellings in the occupation of single -families, but have, and had, long degenerated into poor lodgings let off -in rooms. Entering at the open door of one of these, and releasing my -arm, she beckoned me to follow her up the common staircase, which was -like a tributary channel to the street. - -The house swarmed with inmates. As we went up, doors of rooms were -opened and people's heads put out; and we passed other people on the -stairs, who were coming down. In glancing up from the outside, before -we entered, I had seen women and children lolling at the windows over -flower-pots; and we seemed to have attracted their curiosity, for these -were principally the observers who looked out of their doors. It was a -broad panelled staircase, with massive balustrades of some dark wood; -cornices above the doors, ornamented with carved fruit and flowers; and -broad seats in the windows. But all these tokens of past grandeur -were miserably decayed and dirty; rot, damp, and age, had weakened -the flooring, which in many places was unsound and even unsafe. Some -attempts had been made, I noticed, to infuse new blood into this -dwindling frame, by repairing the costly old wood-work here and there -with common deal; but it was like the marriage of a reduced old noble to -a plebeian pauper, and each party to the ill-assorted union shrunk away -from the other. Several of the back windows on the staircase had -been darkened or wholly blocked up. In those that remained, there was -scarcely any glass; and, through the crumbling frames by which the bad -air seemed always to come in, and never to go out, I saw, through other -glassless windows, into other houses in a similar condition, and looked -giddily down into a wretched yard, which was the common dust-heap of the -mansion. - -We proceeded to the top-storey of the house. Two or three times, by the -way, I thought I observed in the indistinct light the skirts of a female -figure going up before us. As we turned to ascend the last flight of -stairs between us and the roof, we caught a full view of this figure -pausing for a moment, at a door. Then it turned the handle, and went in. - -'What's this!' said Martha, in a whisper. 'She has gone into my room. I -don't know her!' - -I knew her. I had recognized her with amazement, for Miss Dartle. - -I said something to the effect that it was a lady whom I had seen -before, in a few words, to my conductress; and had scarcely done so, -when we heard her voice in the room, though not, from where we stood, -what she was saying. Martha, with an astonished look, repeated her -former action, and softly led me up the stairs; and then, by a little -back-door which seemed to have no lock, and which she pushed open with a -touch, into a small empty garret with a low sloping roof, little better -than a cupboard. Between this, and the room she had called hers, -there was a small door of communication, standing partly open. Here we -stopped, breathless with our ascent, and she placed her hand lightly on -my lips. I could only see, of the room beyond, that it was pretty large; -that there was a bed in it; and that there were some common pictures of -ships upon the walls. I could not see Miss Dartle, or the person whom -we had heard her address. Certainly, my companion could not, for my -position was the best. A dead silence prevailed for some moments. Martha -kept one hand on my lips, and raised the other in a listening attitude. - -'It matters little to me her not being at home,' said Rosa Dartle -haughtily, 'I know nothing of her. It is you I come to see.' - -'Me?' replied a soft voice. - -At the sound of it, a thrill went through my frame. For it was Emily's! - -'Yes,' returned Miss Dartle, 'I have come to look at you. What? You are -not ashamed of the face that has done so much?' - -The resolute and unrelenting hatred of her tone, its cold stern -sharpness, and its mastered rage, presented her before me, as if I had -seen her standing in the light. I saw the flashing black eyes, and the -passion-wasted figure; and I saw the scar, with its white track cutting -through her lips, quivering and throbbing as she spoke. - -'I have come to see,' she said, 'James Steerforth's fancy; the girl who -ran away with him, and is the town-talk of the commonest people of her -native place; the bold, flaunting, practised companion of persons like -James Steerforth. I want to know what such a thing is like.' - -There was a rustle, as if the unhappy girl, on whom she heaped these -taunts, ran towards the door, and the speaker swiftly interposed herself -before it. It was succeeded by a moment's pause. - -When Miss Dartle spoke again, it was through her set teeth, and with a -stamp upon the ground. - -'Stay there!' she said, 'or I'll proclaim you to the house, and the -whole street! If you try to evade me, I'll stop you, if it's by the -hair, and raise the very stones against you!' - -A frightened murmur was the only reply that reached my ears. A silence -succeeded. I did not know what to do. Much as I desired to put an end to -the interview, I felt that I had no right to present myself; that it was -for Mr. Peggotty alone to see her and recover her. Would he never come? -I thought impatiently. - -'So!' said Rosa Dartle, with a contemptuous laugh, 'I see her at last! -Why, he was a poor creature to be taken by that delicate mock-modesty, -and that hanging head!' - -'Oh, for Heaven's sake, spare me!' exclaimed Emily. 'Whoever you are, -you know my pitiable story, and for Heaven's sake spare me, if you would -be spared yourself!' - -'If I would be spared!' returned the other fiercely; 'what is there in -common between US, do you think!' - -'Nothing but our sex,' said Emily, with a burst of tears. - -'And that,' said Rosa Dartle, 'is so strong a claim, preferred by one -so infamous, that if I had any feeling in my breast but scorn and -abhorrence of you, it would freeze it up. Our sex! You are an honour to -our sex!' - -'I have deserved this,' said Emily, 'but it's dreadful! Dear, dear lady, -think what I have suffered, and how I am fallen! Oh, Martha, come back! -Oh, home, home!' - -Miss Dartle placed herself in a chair, within view of the door, and -looked downward, as if Emily were crouching on the floor before her. -Being now between me and the light, I could see her curled lip, and her -cruel eyes intently fixed on one place, with a greedy triumph. - -'Listen to what I say!' she said; 'and reserve your false arts for your -dupes. Do you hope to move me by your tears? No more than you could -charm me by your smiles, you purchased slave.' - -'Oh, have some mercy on me!' cried Emily. 'Show me some compassion, or I -shall die mad!' - -'It would be no great penance,' said Rosa Dartle, 'for your crimes. Do -you know what you have done? Do you ever think of the home you have laid -waste?' - -'Oh, is there ever night or day, when I don't think of it!' cried Emily; -and now I could just see her, on her knees, with her head thrown back, -her pale face looking upward, her hands wildly clasped and held out, -and her hair streaming about her. 'Has there ever been a single minute, -waking or sleeping, when it hasn't been before me, just as it used to -be in the lost days when I turned my back upon it for ever and for ever! -Oh, home, home! Oh dear, dear uncle, if you ever could have known the -agony your love would cause me when I fell away from good, you never -would have shown it to me so constant, much as you felt it; but would -have been angry to me, at least once in my life, that I might have had -some comfort! I have none, none, no comfort upon earth, for all of them -were always fond of me!' She dropped on her face, before the imperious -figure in the chair, with an imploring effort to clasp the skirt of her -dress. - -Rosa Dartle sat looking down upon her, as inflexible as a figure of -brass. Her lips were tightly compressed, as if she knew that she -must keep a strong constraint upon herself--I write what I sincerely -believe--or she would be tempted to strike the beautiful form with -her foot. I saw her, distinctly, and the whole power of her face and -character seemed forced into that expression.---Would he never come? - -'The miserable vanity of these earth-worms!' she said, when she had so -far controlled the angry heavings of her breast, that she could trust -herself to speak. 'YOUR home! Do you imagine that I bestow a thought -on it, or suppose you could do any harm to that low place, which money -would not pay for, and handsomely? YOUR home! You were a part of the -trade of your home, and were bought and sold like any other vendible -thing your people dealt in.' - -'Oh, not that!' cried Emily. 'Say anything of me; but don't visit -my disgrace and shame, more than I have done, on folks who are as -honourable as you! Have some respect for them, as you are a lady, if you -have no mercy for me.' - -'I speak,' she said, not deigning to take any heed of this appeal, and -drawing away her dress from the contamination of Emily's touch, 'I speak -of HIS home--where I live. Here,' she said, stretching out her hand with -her contemptuous laugh, and looking down upon the prostrate girl, 'is a -worthy cause of division between lady-mother and gentleman-son; of grief -in a house where she wouldn't have been admitted as a kitchen-girl; of -anger, and repining, and reproach. This piece of pollution, picked up -from the water-side, to be made much of for an hour, and then tossed -back to her original place!' - -'No! no!' cried Emily, clasping her hands together. 'When he first came -into my way--that the day had never dawned upon me, and he had met me -being carried to my grave!--I had been brought up as virtuous as you or -any lady, and was going to be the wife of as good a man as you or any -lady in the world can ever marry. If you live in his home and know him, -you know, perhaps, what his power with a weak, vain girl might be. I -don't defend myself, but I know well, and he knows well, or he will know -when he comes to die, and his mind is troubled with it, that he used all -his power to deceive me, and that I believed him, trusted him, and loved -him!' - -Rosa Dartle sprang up from her seat; recoiled; and in recoiling struck -at her, with a face of such malignity, so darkened and disfigured by -passion, that I had almost thrown myself between them. The blow, which -had no aim, fell upon the air. As she now stood panting, looking at -her with the utmost detestation that she was capable of expressing, and -trembling from head to foot with rage and scorn, I thought I had never -seen such a sight, and never could see such another. - -'YOU love him? You?' she cried, with her clenched hand, quivering as if -it only wanted a weapon to stab the object of her wrath. - -Emily had shrunk out of my view. There was no reply. - -'And tell that to ME,' she added, 'with your shameful lips? Why don't -they whip these creatures? If I could order it to be done, I would have -this girl whipped to death.' - -And so she would, I have no doubt. I would not have trusted her with the -rack itself, while that furious look lasted. She slowly, very slowly, -broke into a laugh, and pointed at Emily with her hand, as if she were a -sight of shame for gods and men. - -'SHE love!' she said. 'THAT carrion! And he ever cared for her, she'd -tell me. Ha, ha! The liars that these traders are!' - -Her mockery was worse than her undisguised rage. Of the two, I would -have much preferred to be the object of the latter. But, when she -suffered it to break loose, it was only for a moment. She had chained -it up again, and however it might tear her within, she subdued it to -herself. - -'I came here, you pure fountain of love,' she said, 'to see--as I began -by telling you--what such a thing as you was like. I was curious. I am -satisfied. Also to tell you, that you had best seek that home of yours, -with all speed, and hide your head among those excellent people who are -expecting you, and whom your money will console. When it's all gone, you -can believe, and trust, and love again, you know! I thought you a broken -toy that had lasted its time; a worthless spangle that was tarnished, -and thrown away. But, finding you true gold, a very lady, and -an ill-used innocent, with a fresh heart full of love and -trustfulness--which you look like, and is quite consistent with your -story!--I have something more to say. Attend to it; for what I say I'll -do. Do you hear me, you fairy spirit? What I say, I mean to do!' - -Her rage got the better of her again, for a moment; but it passed over -her face like a spasm, and left her smiling. - -'Hide yourself,' she pursued, 'if not at home, somewhere. Let it be -somewhere beyond reach; in some obscure life--or, better still, in some -obscure death. I wonder, if your loving heart will not break, you have -found no way of helping it to be still! I have heard of such means -sometimes. I believe they may be easily found.' - -A low crying, on the part of Emily, interrupted her here. She stopped, -and listened to it as if it were music. - -'I am of a strange nature, perhaps,' Rosa Dartle went on; 'but I can't -breathe freely in the air you breathe. I find it sickly. Therefore, I -will have it cleared; I will have it purified of you. If you live here -tomorrow, I'll have your story and your character proclaimed on the -common stair. There are decent women in the house, I am told; and it -is a pity such a light as you should be among them, and concealed. If, -leaving here, you seek any refuge in this town in any character but your -true one (which you are welcome to bear, without molestation from me), -the same service shall be done you, if I hear of your retreat. Being -assisted by a gentleman who not long ago aspired to the favour of your -hand, I am sanguine as to that.' - -Would he never, never come? How long was I to bear this? How long could -I bear it? 'Oh me, oh me!' exclaimed the wretched Emily, in a tone that -might have touched the hardest heart, I should have thought; but there -was no relenting in Rosa Dartle's smile. 'What, what, shall I do!' - -'Do?' returned the other. 'Live happy in your own reflections! -Consecrate your existence to the recollection of James Steerforth's -tenderness--he would have made you his serving-man's wife, would he -not?---or to feeling grateful to the upright and deserving creature who -would have taken you as his gift. Or, if those proud remembrances, and -the consciousness of your own virtues, and the honourable position to -which they have raised you in the eyes of everything that wears the -human shape, will not sustain you, marry that good man, and be happy in -his condescension. If this will not do either, die! There are doorways -and dust-heaps for such deaths, and such despair--find one, and take -your flight to Heaven!' - -I heard a distant foot upon the stairs. I knew it, I was certain. It was -his, thank God! - -She moved slowly from before the door when she said this, and passed out -of my sight. - -'But mark!' she added, slowly and sternly, opening the other door to -go away, 'I am resolved, for reasons that I have and hatreds that -I entertain, to cast you out, unless you withdraw from my reach -altogether, or drop your pretty mask. This is what I had to say; and -what I say, I mean to do!' - -The foot upon the stairs came nearer--nearer--passed her as she went -down--rushed into the room! - -'Uncle!' - -A fearful cry followed the word. I paused a moment, and looking in, saw -him supporting her insensible figure in his arms. He gazed for a few -seconds in the face; then stooped to kiss it--oh, how tenderly!--and -drew a handkerchief before it. - -'Mas'r Davy,' he said, in a low tremulous voice, when it was covered, 'I -thank my Heav'nly Father as my dream's come true! I thank Him hearty for -having guided of me, in His own ways, to my darling!' - -With those words he took her up in his arms; and, with the veiled -face lying on his bosom, and addressed towards his own, carried her, -motionless and unconscious, down the stairs. - - - -CHAPTER 51. THE BEGINNING OF A LONGER JOURNEY - - -It was yet early in the morning of the following day, when, as I was -walking in my garden with my aunt (who took little other exercise -now, being so much in attendance on my dear Dora), I was told that Mr. -Peggotty desired to speak with me. He came into the garden to meet me -half-way, on my going towards the gate; and bared his head, as it was -always his custom to do when he saw my aunt, for whom he had a high -respect. I had been telling her all that had happened overnight. Without -saying a word, she walked up with a cordial face, shook hands with him, -and patted him on the arm. It was so expressively done, that she had no -need to say a word. Mr. Peggotty understood her quite as well as if she -had said a thousand. - -'I'll go in now, Trot,' said my aunt, 'and look after Little Blossom, -who will be getting up presently.' - -'Not along of my being heer, ma'am, I hope?' said Mr. Peggotty. 'Unless -my wits is gone a bahd's neezing'--by which Mr. Peggotty meant to say, -bird's-nesting--'this morning, 'tis along of me as you're a-going to -quit us?' - -'You have something to say, my good friend,' returned my aunt, 'and will -do better without me.' - -'By your leave, ma'am,' returned Mr. Peggotty, 'I should take it kind, -pervising you doen't mind my clicketten, if you'd bide heer.' - -'Would you?' said my aunt, with short good-nature. 'Then I am sure I -will!' - -So, she drew her arm through Mr. Peggotty's, and walked with him to a -leafy little summer-house there was at the bottom of the garden, where -she sat down on a bench, and I beside her. There was a seat for Mr. -Peggotty too, but he preferred to stand, leaning his hand on the small -rustic table. As he stood, looking at his cap for a little while before -beginning to speak, I could not help observing what power and force -of character his sinewy hand expressed, and what a good and trusty -companion it was to his honest brow and iron-grey hair. - -'I took my dear child away last night,' Mr. Peggotty began, as he -raised his eyes to ours, 'to my lodging, wheer I have a long time been -expecting of her and preparing fur her. It was hours afore she knowed me -right; and when she did, she kneeled down at my feet, and kiender said -to me, as if it was her prayers, how it all come to be. You may believe -me, when I heerd her voice, as I had heerd at home so playful--and see -her humbled, as it might be in the dust our Saviour wrote in with his -blessed hand--I felt a wownd go to my 'art, in the midst of all its -thankfulness.' - -He drew his sleeve across his face, without any pretence of concealing -why; and then cleared his voice. - -'It warn't for long as I felt that; for she was found. I had on'y to -think as she was found, and it was gone. I doen't know why I do so much -as mention of it now, I'm sure. I didn't have it in my mind a minute -ago, to say a word about myself; but it come up so nat'ral, that I -yielded to it afore I was aweer.' - -'You are a self-denying soul,' said my aunt, 'and will have your -reward.' - -Mr. Peggotty, with the shadows of the leaves playing athwart his -face, made a surprised inclination of the head towards my aunt, as an -acknowledgement of her good opinion; then took up the thread he had -relinquished. - -'When my Em'ly took flight,' he said, in stern wrath for the moment, -'from the house wheer she was made a prisoner by that theer spotted -snake as Mas'r Davy see,--and his story's trew, and may GOD confound -him!--she took flight in the night. It was a dark night, with a many -stars a-shining. She was wild. She ran along the sea beach, believing -the old boat was theer; and calling out to us to turn away our faces, -for she was a-coming by. She heerd herself a-crying out, like as if -it was another person; and cut herself on them sharp-pinted stones and -rocks, and felt it no more than if she had been rock herself. Ever so -fur she run, and there was fire afore her eyes, and roarings in her -ears. Of a sudden--or so she thowt, you unnerstand--the day broke, wet -and windy, and she was lying b'low a heap of stone upon the shore, and -a woman was a-speaking to her, saying, in the language of that country, -what was it as had gone so much amiss?' - -He saw everything he related. It passed before him, as he spoke, so -vividly, that, in the intensity of his earnestness, he presented what -he described to me, with greater distinctness than I can express. I can -hardly believe, writing now long afterwards, but that I was actually -present in these scenes; they are impressed upon me with such an -astonishing air of fidelity. - -'As Em'ly's eyes--which was heavy--see this woman better,' Mr. Peggotty -went on, 'she know'd as she was one of them as she had often talked to -on the beach. Fur, though she had run (as I have said) ever so fur in -the night, she had oftentimes wandered long ways, partly afoot, partly -in boats and carriages, and know'd all that country, 'long the coast, -miles and miles. She hadn't no children of her own, this woman, being -a young wife; but she was a-looking to have one afore long. And may -my prayers go up to Heaven that 'twill be a happiness to her, and a -comfort, and a honour, all her life! May it love her and be dootiful to -her, in her old age; helpful of her at the last; a Angel to her heer, -and heerafter!' - -'Amen!' said my aunt. - -'She had been summat timorous and down,' said Mr. Peggotty, 'and had sat, -at first, a little way off, at her spinning, or such work as it was, -when Em'ly talked to the children. But Em'ly had took notice of her, -and had gone and spoke to her; and as the young woman was partial to -the children herself, they had soon made friends. Sermuchser, that when -Em'ly went that way, she always giv Em'ly flowers. This was her as -now asked what it was that had gone so much amiss. Em'ly told her, -and she--took her home. She did indeed. She took her home,' said Mr. -Peggotty, covering his face. - -He was more affected by this act of kindness, than I had ever seen him -affected by anything since the night she went away. My aunt and I did -not attempt to disturb him. - -'It was a little cottage, you may suppose,' he said, presently, 'but she -found space for Em'ly in it,--her husband was away at sea,--and she kep -it secret, and prevailed upon such neighbours as she had (they was not -many near) to keep it secret too. Em'ly was took bad with fever, -and, what is very strange to me is,--maybe 'tis not so strange to -scholars,--the language of that country went out of her head, and she -could only speak her own, that no one unnerstood. She recollects, as if -she had dreamed it, that she lay there always a-talking her own tongue, -always believing as the old boat was round the next pint in the bay, and -begging and imploring of 'em to send theer and tell how she was dying, -and bring back a message of forgiveness, if it was on'y a wured. A'most -the whole time, she thowt,--now, that him as I made mention on just now -was lurking for her unnerneath the winder; now that him as had brought -her to this was in the room,--and cried to the good young woman not to -give her up, and know'd, at the same time, that she couldn't unnerstand, -and dreaded that she must be took away. Likewise the fire was afore -her eyes, and the roarings in her ears; and theer was no today, nor -yesterday, nor yet tomorrow; but everything in her life as ever had -been, or as ever could be, and everything as never had been, and as -never could be, was a crowding on her all at once, and nothing clear nor -welcome, and yet she sang and laughed about it! How long this lasted, I -doen't know; but then theer come a sleep; and in that sleep, from being -a many times stronger than her own self, she fell into the weakness of -the littlest child.' - -Here he stopped, as if for relief from the terrors of his own -description. After being silent for a few moments, he pursued his story. - -'It was a pleasant arternoon when she awoke; and so quiet, that there -warn't a sound but the rippling of that blue sea without a tide, upon -the shore. It was her belief, at first, that she was at home upon a -Sunday morning; but the vine leaves as she see at the winder, and the -hills beyond, warn't home, and contradicted of her. Then, come in her -friend to watch alongside of her bed; and then she know'd as the old -boat warn't round that next pint in the bay no more, but was fur off; -and know'd where she was, and why; and broke out a-crying on that good -young woman's bosom, wheer I hope her baby is a-lying now, a-cheering of -her with its pretty eyes!' - -He could not speak of this good friend of Emily's without a flow of -tears. It was in vain to try. He broke down again, endeavouring to bless -her! - -'That done my Em'ly good,' he resumed, after such emotion as I could -not behold without sharing in; and as to my aunt, she wept with all her -heart; 'that done Em'ly good, and she begun to mend. But, the language -of that country was quite gone from her, and she was forced to make -signs. So she went on, getting better from day to day, slow, but sure, -and trying to learn the names of common things--names as she seemed -never to have heerd in all her life--till one evening come, when she -was a-setting at her window, looking at a little girl at play upon the -beach. And of a sudden this child held out her hand, and said, what -would be in English, "Fisherman's daughter, here's a shell!"--for you -are to unnerstand that they used at first to call her "Pretty lady", as -the general way in that country is, and that she had taught 'em to -call her "Fisherman's daughter" instead. The child says of a sudden, -"Fisherman's daughter, here's a shell!" Then Em'ly unnerstands her; and -she answers, bursting out a-crying; and it all comes back! - -'When Em'ly got strong again,' said Mr. Peggotty, after another short -interval of silence, 'she cast about to leave that good young creetur, -and get to her own country. The husband was come home, then; and the two -together put her aboard a small trader bound to Leghorn, and from that -to France. She had a little money, but it was less than little as they -would take for all they done. I'm a'most glad on it, though they was -so poor! What they done, is laid up wheer neither moth or rust doth -corrupt, and wheer thieves do not break through nor steal. Mas'r Davy, -it'll outlast all the treasure in the wureld. - -'Em'ly got to France, and took service to wait on travelling ladies at a -inn in the port. Theer, theer come, one day, that snake. --Let him never -come nigh me. I doen't know what hurt I might do him!--Soon as she see -him, without him seeing her, all her fear and wildness returned upon -her, and she fled afore the very breath he draw'd. She come to England, -and was set ashore at Dover. - -'I doen't know,' said Mr. Peggotty, 'for sure, when her 'art begun to -fail her; but all the way to England she had thowt to come to her dear -home. Soon as she got to England she turned her face tow'rds it. But, -fear of not being forgiv, fear of being pinted at, fear of some of -us being dead along of her, fear of many things, turned her from it, -kiender by force, upon the road: "Uncle, uncle," she says to me, "the -fear of not being worthy to do what my torn and bleeding breast so -longed to do, was the most fright'ning fear of all! I turned back, when -my 'art was full of prayers that I might crawl to the old door-step, in -the night, kiss it, lay my wicked face upon it, and theer be found dead -in the morning." - -'She come,' said Mr. Peggotty, dropping his voice to an -awe-stricken whisper, 'to London. She--as had never seen it in her -life--alone--without a penny--young--so pretty--come to London. A'most -the moment as she lighted heer, all so desolate, she found (as she -believed) a friend; a decent woman as spoke to her about the needle-work -as she had been brought up to do, about finding plenty of it fur her, -about a lodging fur the night, and making secret inquiration concerning -of me and all at home, tomorrow. When my child,' he said aloud, and with -an energy of gratitude that shook him from head to foot, 'stood upon the -brink of more than I can say or think on--Martha, trew to her promise, -saved her.' - -I could not repress a cry of joy. - -'Mas'r Davy!' said he, gripping my hand in that strong hand of his, -'it was you as first made mention of her to me. I thankee, sir! She was -arnest. She had know'd of her bitter knowledge wheer to watch and what -to do. She had done it. And the Lord was above all! She come, white and -hurried, upon Em'ly in her sleep. She says to her, "Rise up from worse -than death, and come with me!" Them belonging to the house would have -stopped her, but they might as soon have stopped the sea. "Stand away -from me," she says, "I am a ghost that calls her from beside her open -grave!" She told Em'ly she had seen me, and know'd I loved her, and -forgive her. She wrapped her, hasty, in her clothes. She took her, faint -and trembling, on her arm. She heeded no more what they said, than if -she had had no ears. She walked among 'em with my child, minding only -her; and brought her safe out, in the dead of the night, from that black -pit of ruin! - -'She attended on Em'ly,' said Mr. Peggotty, who had released my hand, -and put his own hand on his heaving chest; 'she attended to my Em'ly, -lying wearied out, and wandering betwixt whiles, till late next day. -Then she went in search of me; then in search of you, Mas'r Davy. She -didn't tell Em'ly what she come out fur, lest her 'art should fail, and -she should think of hiding of herself. How the cruel lady know'd of -her being theer, I can't say. Whether him as I have spoke so much of, -chanced to see 'em going theer, or whether (which is most like, to my -thinking) he had heerd it from the woman, I doen't greatly ask myself. -My niece is found. - -'All night long,' said Mr. Peggotty, 'we have been together, Em'ly -and me. 'Tis little (considering the time) as she has said, in wureds, -through them broken-hearted tears; 'tis less as I have seen of her dear -face, as grow'd into a woman's at my hearth. But, all night long, her -arms has been about my neck; and her head has laid heer; and we knows -full well, as we can put our trust in one another, ever more.' - -He ceased to speak, and his hand upon the table rested there in perfect -repose, with a resolution in it that might have conquered lions. - -'It was a gleam of light upon me, Trot,' said my aunt, drying her eyes, -'when I formed the resolution of being godmother to your sister Betsey -Trotwood, who disappointed me; but, next to that, hardly anything would -have given me greater pleasure, than to be godmother to that good young -creature's baby!' - -Mr. Peggotty nodded his understanding of my aunt's feelings, but could -not trust himself with any verbal reference to the subject of her -commendation. We all remained silent, and occupied with our own -reflections (my aunt drying her eyes, and now sobbing convulsively, and -now laughing and calling herself a fool); until I spoke. - -'You have quite made up your mind,' said I to Mr. Peggotty, 'as to the -future, good friend? I need scarcely ask you.' - -'Quite, Mas'r Davy,' he returned; 'and told Em'ly. Theer's mighty -countries, fur from heer. Our future life lays over the sea.' - -'They will emigrate together, aunt,' said I. - -'Yes!' said Mr. Peggotty, with a hopeful smile. 'No one can't reproach -my darling in Australia. We will begin a new life over theer!' - -I asked him if he yet proposed to himself any time for going away. - -'I was down at the Docks early this morning, sir,' he returned, 'to get -information concerning of them ships. In about six weeks or two -months from now, there'll be one sailing--I see her this morning--went -aboard--and we shall take our passage in her.' - -'Quite alone?' I asked. - -'Aye, Mas'r Davy!' he returned. 'My sister, you see, she's that fond -of you and yourn, and that accustomed to think on'y of her own country, -that it wouldn't be hardly fair to let her go. Besides which, theer's -one she has in charge, Mas'r Davy, as doen't ought to be forgot.' - -'Poor Ham!' said I. - -'My good sister takes care of his house, you see, ma'am, and he takes -kindly to her,' Mr. Peggotty explained for my aunt's better information. -'He'll set and talk to her, with a calm spirit, wen it's like he -couldn't bring himself to open his lips to another. Poor fellow!' said -Mr. Peggotty, shaking his head, 'theer's not so much left him, that he -could spare the little as he has!' - -'And Mrs. Gummidge?' said I. - -'Well, I've had a mort of consideration, I do tell you,' returned Mr. -Peggotty, with a perplexed look which gradually cleared as he went -on, 'concerning of Missis Gummidge. You see, wen Missis Gummidge falls -a-thinking of the old 'un, she an't what you may call good company. -Betwixt you and me, Mas'r Davy--and you, ma'am--wen Mrs. Gummidge takes -to wimicking,'--our old country word for crying,--'she's liable to be -considered to be, by them as didn't know the old 'un, peevish-like. Now -I DID know the old 'un,' said Mr. Peggotty, 'and I know'd his merits, -so I unnerstan' her; but 'tan't entirely so, you see, with -others--nat'rally can't be!' - -My aunt and I both acquiesced. - -'Wheerby,' said Mr. Peggotty, 'my sister might--I doen't say she would, -but might--find Missis Gummidge give her a leetle trouble now-and-again. -Theerfur 'tan't my intentions to moor Missis Gummidge 'long with them, -but to find a Beein' fur her wheer she can fisherate for herself.' -(A Beein' signifies, in that dialect, a home, and to fisherate is to -provide.) 'Fur which purpose,' said Mr. Peggotty, 'I means to make her -a 'lowance afore I go, as'll leave her pretty comfort'ble. She's the -faithfullest of creeturs. 'Tan't to be expected, of course, at her -time of life, and being lone and lorn, as the good old Mawther is to -be knocked about aboardship, and in the woods and wilds of a new and -fur-away country. So that's what I'm a-going to do with her.' - -He forgot nobody. He thought of everybody's claims and strivings, but -his own. - -'Em'ly,' he continued, 'will keep along with me--poor child, she's sore -in need of peace and rest!--until such time as we goes upon our voyage. -She'll work at them clothes, as must be made; and I hope her troubles -will begin to seem longer ago than they was, wen she finds herself once -more by her rough but loving uncle.' - -My aunt nodded confirmation of this hope, and imparted great -satisfaction to Mr. Peggotty. - -'Theer's one thing furder, Mas'r Davy,' said he, putting his hand in his -breast-pocket, and gravely taking out the little paper bundle I had -seen before, which he unrolled on the table. 'Theer's these here -banknotes--fifty pound, and ten. To them I wish to add the money as she -come away with. I've asked her about that (but not saying why), and have -added of it up. I an't a scholar. Would you be so kind as see how 'tis?' - -He handed me, apologetically for his scholarship, a piece of paper, and -observed me while I looked it over. It was quite right. - -'Thankee, sir,' he said, taking it back. 'This money, if you doen't -see objections, Mas'r Davy, I shall put up jest afore I go, in a cover -directed to him; and put that up in another, directed to his mother. -I shall tell her, in no more wureds than I speak to you, what it's the -price on; and that I'm gone, and past receiving of it back.' - -I told him that I thought it would be right to do so--that I was -thoroughly convinced it would be, since he felt it to be right. - -'I said that theer was on'y one thing furder,' he proceeded with a grave -smile, when he had made up his little bundle again, and put it in his -pocket; 'but theer was two. I warn't sure in my mind, wen I come out -this morning, as I could go and break to Ham, of my own self, what had -so thankfully happened. So I writ a letter while I was out, and put -it in the post-office, telling of 'em how all was as 'tis; and that I -should come down tomorrow to unload my mind of what little needs a-doing -of down theer, and, most-like, take my farewell leave of Yarmouth.' - -'And do you wish me to go with you?' said I, seeing that he left -something unsaid. - -'If you could do me that kind favour, Mas'r Davy,' he replied. 'I know -the sight on you would cheer 'em up a bit.' - -My little Dora being in good spirits, and very desirous that I should -go--as I found on talking it over with her--I readily pledged myself to -accompany him in accordance with his wish. Next morning, consequently, -we were on the Yarmouth coach, and again travelling over the old ground. - -As we passed along the familiar street at night--Mr. Peggotty, in -despite of all my remonstrances, carrying my bag--I glanced into Omer -and Joram's shop, and saw my old friend Mr. Omer there, smoking his -pipe. I felt reluctant to be present, when Mr. Peggotty first met his -sister and Ham; and made Mr. Omer my excuse for lingering behind. - -'How is Mr. Omer, after this long time?' said I, going in. - -He fanned away the smoke of his pipe, that he might get a better view of -me, and soon recognized me with great delight. - -'I should get up, sir, to acknowledge such an honour as this visit,' -said he, 'only my limbs are rather out of sorts, and I am wheeled about. -With the exception of my limbs and my breath, howsoever, I am as hearty -as a man can be, I'm thankful to say.' - -I congratulated him on his contented looks and his good spirits, and -saw, now, that his easy-chair went on wheels. - -'It's an ingenious thing, ain't it?' he inquired, following the -direction of my glance, and polishing the elbow with his arm. 'It runs -as light as a feather, and tracks as true as a mail-coach. Bless you, -my little Minnie--my grand-daughter you know, Minnie's child--puts her -little strength against the back, gives it a shove, and away we go, as -clever and merry as ever you see anything! And I tell you what--it's a -most uncommon chair to smoke a pipe in.' - -I never saw such a good old fellow to make the best of a thing, and -find out the enjoyment of it, as Mr. Omer. He was as radiant, as if -his chair, his asthma, and the failure of his limbs, were the various -branches of a great invention for enhancing the luxury of a pipe. - -'I see more of the world, I can assure you,' said Mr. Omer, 'in this -chair, than ever I see out of it. You'd be surprised at the number of -people that looks in of a day to have a chat. You really would! There's -twice as much in the newspaper, since I've taken to this chair, as there -used to be. As to general reading, dear me, what a lot of it I do get -through! That's what I feel so strong, you know! If it had been my eyes, -what should I have done? If it had been my ears, what should I have -done? Being my limbs, what does it signify? Why, my limbs only made my -breath shorter when I used 'em. And now, if I want to go out into -the street or down to the sands, I've only got to call Dick, Joram's -youngest 'prentice, and away I go in my own carriage, like the Lord -Mayor of London.' - -He half suffocated himself with laughing here. - -'Lord bless you!' said Mr. Omer, resuming his pipe, 'a man must take -the fat with the lean; that's what he must make up his mind to, in this -life. Joram does a fine business. Ex-cellent business!' - -'I am very glad to hear it,' said I. - -'I knew you would be,' said Mr. Omer. 'And Joram and Minnie are like -Valentines. What more can a man expect? What's his limbs to that!' - -His supreme contempt for his own limbs, as he sat smoking, was one of -the pleasantest oddities I have ever encountered. - -'And since I've took to general reading, you've took to general writing, -eh, sir?' said Mr. Omer, surveying me admiringly. 'What a lovely work -that was of yours! What expressions in it! I read it every word--every -word. And as to feeling sleepy! Not at all!' - -I laughingly expressed my satisfaction, but I must confess that I -thought this association of ideas significant. - -'I give you my word and honour, sir,' said Mr. Omer, 'that when I lay -that book upon the table, and look at it outside; compact in three -separate and indiwidual wollumes--one, two, three; I am as proud as -Punch to think that I once had the honour of being connected with -your family. And dear me, it's a long time ago, now, ain't it? Over -at Blunderstone. With a pretty little party laid along with the other -party. And you quite a small party then, yourself. Dear, dear!' - -I changed the subject by referring to Emily. After assuring him that I -did not forget how interested he had always been in her, and how -kindly he had always treated her, I gave him a general account of her -restoration to her uncle by the aid of Martha; which I knew would please -the old man. He listened with the utmost attention, and said, feelingly, -when I had done: - -'I am rejoiced at it, sir! It's the best news I have heard for many -a day. Dear, dear, dear! And what's going to be undertook for that -unfortunate young woman, Martha, now?' - -'You touch a point that my thoughts have been dwelling on since -yesterday,' said I, 'but on which I can give you no information yet, Mr. -Omer. Mr. Peggotty has not alluded to it, and I have a delicacy in -doing so. I am sure he has not forgotten it. He forgets nothing that is -disinterested and good.' - -'Because you know,' said Mr. Omer, taking himself up, where he had left -off, 'whatever is done, I should wish to be a member of. Put me down for -anything you may consider right, and let me know. I never could think -the girl all bad, and I am glad to find she's not. So will my daughter -Minnie be. Young women are contradictory creatures in some things--her -mother was just the same as her--but their hearts are soft and kind. -It's all show with Minnie, about Martha. Why she should consider it -necessary to make any show, I don't undertake to tell you. But it's all -show, bless you. She'd do her any kindness in private. So, put me down -for whatever you may consider right, will you be so good? and drop me -a line where to forward it. Dear me!' said Mr. Omer, 'when a man is -drawing on to a time of life, where the two ends of life meet; when he -finds himself, however hearty he is, being wheeled about for the second -time, in a speeches of go-cart; he should be over-rejoiced to do a -kindness if he can. He wants plenty. And I don't speak of myself, -particular,' said Mr. Omer, 'because, sir, the way I look at it is, that -we are all drawing on to the bottom of the hill, whatever age we are, -on account of time never standing still for a single moment. So let us -always do a kindness, and be over-rejoiced. To be sure!' - -He knocked the ashes out of his pipe, and put it on a ledge in the back -of his chair, expressly made for its reception. - -'There's Em'ly's cousin, him that she was to have been married to,' said -Mr. Omer, rubbing his hands feebly, 'as fine a fellow as there is in -Yarmouth! He'll come and talk or read to me, in the evening, for an hour -together sometimes. That's a kindness, I should call it! All his life's -a kindness.' - -'I am going to see him now,' said I. - -'Are you?' said Mr. Omer. 'Tell him I was hearty, and sent my respects. -Minnie and Joram's at a ball. They would be as proud to see you as I -am, if they was at home. Minnie won't hardly go out at all, you see, "on -account of father", as she says. So I swore tonight, that if she didn't -go, I'd go to bed at six. In consequence of which,' Mr. Omer shook -himself and his chair with laughter at the success of his device, 'she -and Joram's at a ball.' - -I shook hands with him, and wished him good night. - -'Half a minute, sir,' said Mr. Omer. 'If you was to go without seeing -my little elephant, you'd lose the best of sights. You never see such -a sight! Minnie!' A musical little voice answered, from somewhere -upstairs, 'I am coming, grandfather!' and a pretty little girl with -long, flaxen, curling hair, soon came running into the shop. - -'This is my little elephant, sir,' said Mr. Omer, fondling the child. -'Siamese breed, sir. Now, little elephant!' - -The little elephant set the door of the parlour open, enabling me to see -that, in these latter days, it was converted into a bedroom for Mr. -Omer who could not be easily conveyed upstairs; and then hid her pretty -forehead, and tumbled her long hair, against the back of Mr. Omer's -chair. - -'The elephant butts, you know, sir,' said Mr. Omer, winking, 'when he -goes at a object. Once, elephant. Twice. Three times!' - -At this signal, the little elephant, with a dexterity that was next to -marvellous in so small an animal, whisked the chair round with Mr. Omer -in it, and rattled it off, pell-mell, into the parlour, without touching -the door-post: Mr. Omer indescribably enjoying the performance, and -looking back at me on the road as if it were the triumphant issue of his -life's exertions. - -After a stroll about the town I went to Ham's house. Peggotty had now -removed here for good; and had let her own house to the successor of -Mr. Barkis in the carrying business, who had paid her very well for the -good-will, cart, and horse. I believe the very same slow horse that Mr. -Barkis drove was still at work. - -I found them in the neat kitchen, accompanied by Mrs. Gummidge, who had -been fetched from the old boat by Mr. Peggotty himself. I doubt if -she could have been induced to desert her post, by anyone else. He -had evidently told them all. Both Peggotty and Mrs. Gummidge had their -aprons to their eyes, and Ham had just stepped out 'to take a turn on -the beach'. He presently came home, very glad to see me; and I hope they -were all the better for my being there. We spoke, with some approach to -cheerfulness, of Mr. Peggotty's growing rich in a new country, and of -the wonders he would describe in his letters. We said nothing of Emily -by name, but distantly referred to her more than once. Ham was the -serenest of the party. - -But, Peggotty told me, when she lighted me to a little chamber where the -Crocodile book was lying ready for me on the table, that he always was -the same. She believed (she told me, crying) that he was broken-hearted; -though he was as full of courage as of sweetness, and worked harder and -better than any boat-builder in any yard in all that part. There were -times, she said, of an evening, when he talked of their old life in -the boat-house; and then he mentioned Emily as a child. But, he never -mentioned her as a woman. - -I thought I had read in his face that he would like to speak to me -alone. I therefore resolved to put myself in his way next evening, as he -came home from his work. Having settled this with myself, I fell asleep. -That night, for the first time in all those many nights, the candle was -taken out of the window, Mr. Peggotty swung in his old hammock in the -old boat, and the wind murmured with the old sound round his head. - -All next day, he was occupied in disposing of his fishing-boat and -tackle; in packing up, and sending to London by waggon, such of his -little domestic possessions as he thought would be useful to him; and in -parting with the rest, or bestowing them on Mrs. Gummidge. She was with -him all day. As I had a sorrowful wish to see the old place once more, -before it was locked up, I engaged to meet them there in the evening. -But I so arranged it, as that I should meet Ham first. - -It was easy to come in his way, as I knew where he worked. I met him -at a retired part of the sands, which I knew he would cross, and turned -back with him, that he might have leisure to speak to me if he really -wished. I had not mistaken the expression of his face. We had walked but -a little way together, when he said, without looking at me: - -'Mas'r Davy, have you seen her?' - -'Only for a moment, when she was in a swoon,' I softly answered. - -We walked a little farther, and he said: - -'Mas'r Davy, shall you see her, d'ye think?' - -'It would be too painful to her, perhaps,' said I. - -'I have thowt of that,' he replied. 'So 'twould, sir, so 'twould.' - -'But, Ham,' said I, gently, 'if there is anything that I could write -to her, for you, in case I could not tell it; if there is anything -you would wish to make known to her through me; I should consider it a -sacred trust.' - -'I am sure on't. I thankee, sir, most kind! I think theer is something I -could wish said or wrote.' - -'What is it?' - -We walked a little farther in silence, and then he spoke. - -''Tan't that I forgive her. 'Tan't that so much. 'Tis more as I beg of -her to forgive me, for having pressed my affections upon her. Odd times, -I think that if I hadn't had her promise fur to marry me, sir, she was -that trustful of me, in a friendly way, that she'd have told me what was -struggling in her mind, and would have counselled with me, and I might -have saved her.' - -I pressed his hand. 'Is that all?' 'Theer's yet a something else,' he -returned, 'if I can say it, Mas'r Davy.' - -We walked on, farther than we had walked yet, before he spoke again. He -was not crying when he made the pauses I shall express by lines. He was -merely collecting himself to speak very plainly. - -'I loved her--and I love the mem'ry of her--too deep--to be able to -lead her to believe of my own self as I'm a happy man. I could only be -happy--by forgetting of her--and I'm afeerd I couldn't hardly bear as -she should be told I done that. But if you, being so full of learning, -Mas'r Davy, could think of anything to say as might bring her to believe -I wasn't greatly hurt: still loving of her, and mourning for her: -anything as might bring her to believe as I was not tired of my life, -and yet was hoping fur to see her without blame, wheer the wicked cease -from troubling and the weary are at rest--anything as would ease her -sorrowful mind, and yet not make her think as I could ever marry, or as -'twas possible that anyone could ever be to me what she was--I should -ask of you to say that--with my prayers for her--that was so dear.' - -I pressed his manly hand again, and told him I would charge myself to do -this as well as I could. - -'I thankee, sir,' he answered. ''Twas kind of you to meet me. 'Twas kind -of you to bear him company down. Mas'r Davy, I unnerstan' very well, -though my aunt will come to Lon'on afore they sail, and they'll unite -once more, that I am not like to see him agen. I fare to feel sure on't. -We doen't say so, but so 'twill be, and better so. The last you see on -him--the very last--will you give him the lovingest duty and thanks of -the orphan, as he was ever more than a father to?' - -This I also promised, faithfully. - -'I thankee agen, sir,' he said, heartily shaking hands. 'I know wheer -you're a-going. Good-bye!' - -With a slight wave of his hand, as though to explain to me that he could -not enter the old place, he turned away. As I looked after his figure, -crossing the waste in the moonlight, I saw him turn his face towards a -strip of silvery light upon the sea, and pass on, looking at it, until -he was a shadow in the distance. - -The door of the boat-house stood open when I approached; and, on -entering, I found it emptied of all its furniture, saving one of the old -lockers, on which Mrs. Gummidge, with a basket on her knee, was seated, -looking at Mr. Peggotty. He leaned his elbow on the rough chimney-piece, -and gazed upon a few expiring embers in the grate; but he raised his -head, hopefully, on my coming in, and spoke in a cheery manner. - -'Come, according to promise, to bid farewell to 't, eh, Mas'r Davy?' -he said, taking up the candle. 'Bare enough, now, an't it?' 'Indeed you -have made good use of the time,' said I. - -'Why, we have not been idle, sir. Missis Gummidge has worked like a--I -doen't know what Missis Gummidge an't worked like,' said Mr. Peggotty, -looking at her, at a loss for a sufficiently approving simile. - -Mrs. Gummidge, leaning on her basket, made no observation. - -'Theer's the very locker that you used to sit on, 'long with Em'ly!' -said Mr. Peggotty, in a whisper. 'I'm a-going to carry it away with me, -last of all. And heer's your old little bedroom, see, Mas'r Davy! A'most -as bleak tonight, as 'art could wish!' - -In truth, the wind, though it was low, had a solemn sound, and crept -around the deserted house with a whispered wailing that was very -mournful. Everything was gone, down to the little mirror with the -oyster-shell frame. I thought of myself, lying here, when that first -great change was being wrought at home. I thought of the blue-eyed child -who had enchanted me. I thought of Steerforth: and a foolish, fearful -fancy came upon me of his being near at hand, and liable to be met at -any turn. - -''Tis like to be long,' said Mr. Peggotty, in a low voice, 'afore -the boat finds new tenants. They look upon 't, down heer, as being -unfortunate now!' - -'Does it belong to anybody in the neighbourhood?' I asked. - -'To a mast-maker up town,' said Mr. Peggotty. 'I'm a-going to give the -key to him tonight.' - -We looked into the other little room, and came back to Mrs. Gummidge, -sitting on the locker, whom Mr. Peggotty, putting the light on the -chimney-piece, requested to rise, that he might carry it outside the -door before extinguishing the candle. - -'Dan'l,' said Mrs. Gummidge, suddenly deserting her basket, and clinging -to his arm 'my dear Dan'l, the parting words I speak in this house is, I -mustn't be left behind. Doen't ye think of leaving me behind, Dan'l! Oh, -doen't ye ever do it!' - -Mr. Peggotty, taken aback, looked from Mrs. Gummidge to me, and from me -to Mrs. Gummidge, as if he had been awakened from a sleep. - -'Doen't ye, dearest Dan'l, doen't ye!' cried Mrs. Gummidge, fervently. -'Take me 'long with you, Dan'l, take me 'long with you and Em'ly! I'll -be your servant, constant and trew. If there's slaves in them parts -where you're a-going, I'll be bound to you for one, and happy, but -doen't ye leave me behind, Dan'l, that's a deary dear!' - -'My good soul,' said Mr. Peggotty, shaking his head, 'you doen't know -what a long voyage, and what a hard life 'tis!' 'Yes, I do, Dan'l! I can -guess!' cried Mrs. Gummidge. 'But my parting words under this roof is, -I shall go into the house and die, if I am not took. I can dig, Dan'l. -I can work. I can live hard. I can be loving and patient now--more than -you think, Dan'l, if you'll on'y try me. I wouldn't touch the 'lowance, -not if I was dying of want, Dan'l Peggotty; but I'll go with you and -Em'ly, if you'll on'y let me, to the world's end! I know how 'tis; I -know you think that I am lone and lorn; but, deary love, 'tan't so no -more! I ain't sat here, so long, a-watching, and a-thinking of your -trials, without some good being done me. Mas'r Davy, speak to him for -me! I knows his ways, and Em'ly's, and I knows their sorrows, and can be -a comfort to 'em, some odd times, and labour for 'em allus! Dan'l, deary -Dan'l, let me go 'long with you!' - -And Mrs. Gummidge took his hand, and kissed it with a homely pathos and -affection, in a homely rapture of devotion and gratitude, that he well -deserved. - -We brought the locker out, extinguished the candle, fastened the door -on the outside, and left the old boat close shut up, a dark speck in -the cloudy night. Next day, when we were returning to London outside the -coach, Mrs. Gummidge and her basket were on the seat behind, and Mrs. -Gummidge was happy. - - - -CHAPTER 52. I ASSIST AT AN EXPLOSION - - -When the time Mr. Micawber had appointed so mysteriously, was within -four-and-twenty hours of being come, my aunt and I consulted how we -should proceed; for my aunt was very unwilling to leave Dora. Ah! how -easily I carried Dora up and down stairs, now! - -We were disposed, notwithstanding Mr. Micawber's stipulation for my -aunt's attendance, to arrange that she should stay at home, and be -represented by Mr. Dick and me. In short, we had resolved to take this -course, when Dora again unsettled us by declaring that she never -would forgive herself, and never would forgive her bad boy, if my aunt -remained behind, on any pretence. - -'I won't speak to you,' said Dora, shaking her curls at my aunt. 'I'll -be disagreeable! I'll make Jip bark at you all day. I shall be sure that -you really are a cross old thing, if you don't go!' - -'Tut, Blossom!' laughed my aunt. 'You know you can't do without me!' - -'Yes, I can,' said Dora. 'You are no use to me at all. You never run up -and down stairs for me, all day long. You never sit and tell me stories -about Doady, when his shoes were worn out, and he was covered with -dust--oh, what a poor little mite of a fellow! You never do anything at -all to please me, do you, dear?' Dora made haste to kiss my aunt, and -say, 'Yes, you do! I'm only joking!'-lest my aunt should think she -really meant it. - -'But, aunt,' said Dora, coaxingly, 'now listen. You must go. I shall -tease you, 'till you let me have my own way about it. I shall lead my -naughty boy such a life, if he don't make you go. I shall make myself -so disagreeable--and so will Jip! You'll wish you had gone, like a good -thing, for ever and ever so long, if you don't go. Besides,' said Dora, -putting back her hair, and looking wonderingly at my aunt and me, 'why -shouldn't you both go? I am not very ill indeed. Am I?' - -'Why, what a question!' cried my aunt. - -'What a fancy!' said I. - -'Yes! I know I am a silly little thing!' said Dora, slowly looking from -one of us to the other, and then putting up her pretty lips to kiss us -as she lay upon her couch. 'Well, then, you must both go, or I shall not -believe you; and then I shall cry!' - -I saw, in my aunt's face, that she began to give way now, and Dora -brightened again, as she saw it too. - -'You'll come back with so much to tell me, that it'll take at least -a week to make me understand!' said Dora. 'Because I know I shan't -understand, for a length of time, if there's any business in it. And -there's sure to be some business in it! If there's anything to add up, -besides, I don't know when I shall make it out; and my bad boy will look -so miserable all the time. There! Now you'll go, won't you? You'll only -be gone one night, and Jip will take care of me while you are gone. -Doady will carry me upstairs before you go, and I won't come down again -till you come back; and you shall take Agnes a dreadfully scolding -letter from me, because she has never been to see us!' - -We agreed, without any more consultation, that we would both go, and -that Dora was a little Impostor, who feigned to be rather unwell, -because she liked to be petted. She was greatly pleased, and very merry; -and we four, that is to say, my aunt, Mr. Dick, Traddles, and I, went -down to Canterbury by the Dover mail that night. - -At the hotel where Mr. Micawber had requested us to await him, which -we got into, with some trouble, in the middle of the night, I found a -letter, importing that he would appear in the morning punctually at half -past nine. After which, we went shivering, at that uncomfortable hour, -to our respective beds, through various close passages; which smelt as -if they had been steeped, for ages, in a solution of soup and stables. - -Early in the morning, I sauntered through the dear old tranquil streets, -and again mingled with the shadows of the venerable gateways and -churches. The rooks were sailing about the cathedral towers; and the -towers themselves, overlooking many a long unaltered mile of the rich -country and its pleasant streams, were cutting the bright morning air, -as if there were no such thing as change on earth. Yet the bells, when -they sounded, told me sorrowfully of change in everything; told me of -their own age, and my pretty Dora's youth; and of the many, never old, -who had lived and loved and died, while the reverberations of the bells -had hummed through the rusty armour of the Black Prince hanging up -within, and, motes upon the deep of Time, had lost themselves in air, as -circles do in water. - -I looked at the old house from the corner of the street, but did not go -nearer to it, lest, being observed, I might unwittingly do any harm to -the design I had come to aid. The early sun was striking edgewise on its -gables and lattice-windows, touching them with gold; and some beams of -its old peace seemed to touch my heart. - -I strolled into the country for an hour or so, and then returned by -the main street, which in the interval had shaken off its last night's -sleep. Among those who were stirring in the shops, I saw my ancient -enemy the butcher, now advanced to top-boots and a baby, and in business -for himself. He was nursing the baby, and appeared to be a benignant -member of society. - -We all became very anxious and impatient, when we sat down to breakfast. -As it approached nearer and nearer to half past nine o'clock, our -restless expectation of Mr. Micawber increased. At last we made no more -pretence of attending to the meal, which, except with Mr. Dick, had been -a mere form from the first; but my aunt walked up and down the room. -Traddles sat upon the sofa affecting to read the paper with his eyes on -the ceiling; and I looked out of the window to give early notice of Mr. -Micawber's coming. Nor had I long to watch, for, at the first chime of -the half hour, he appeared in the street. - -'Here he is,' said I, 'and not in his legal attire!' - -My aunt tied the strings of her bonnet (she had come down to breakfast -in it), and put on her shawl, as if she were ready for anything that -was resolute and uncompromising. Traddles buttoned his coat with a -determined air. Mr. Dick, disturbed by these formidable appearances, but -feeling it necessary to imitate them, pulled his hat, with both hands, -as firmly over his ears as he possibly could; and instantly took it off -again, to welcome Mr. Micawber. - -'Gentlemen, and madam,' said Mr. Micawber, 'good morning! My dear sir,' -to Mr. Dick, who shook hands with him violently, 'you are extremely -good.' - -'Have you breakfasted?' said Mr. Dick. 'Have a chop!' - -'Not for the world, my good sir!' cried Mr. Micawber, stopping him on -his way to the bell; 'appetite and myself, Mr. Dixon, have long been -strangers.' - -Mr. Dixon was so well pleased with his new name, and appeared to think -it so obliging in Mr. Micawber to confer it upon him, that he shook -hands with him again, and laughed rather childishly. - -'Dick,' said my aunt, 'attention!' - -Mr. Dick recovered himself, with a blush. - -'Now, sir,' said my aunt to Mr. Micawber, as she put on her gloves, 'we -are ready for Mount Vesuvius, or anything else, as soon as YOU please.' - -'Madam,' returned Mr. Micawber, 'I trust you will shortly witness an -eruption. Mr. Traddles, I have your permission, I believe, to mention -here that we have been in communication together?' - -'It is undoubtedly the fact, Copperfield,' said Traddles, to whom I -looked in surprise. 'Mr. Micawber has consulted me in reference to -what he has in contemplation; and I have advised him to the best of my -judgement.' - -'Unless I deceive myself, Mr. Traddles,' pursued Mr. Micawber, 'what I -contemplate is a disclosure of an important nature.' - -'Highly so,' said Traddles. - -'Perhaps, under such circumstances, madam and gentlemen,' said Mr. -Micawber, 'you will do me the favour to submit yourselves, for the -moment, to the direction of one who, however unworthy to be regarded in -any other light but as a Waif and Stray upon the shore of human nature, -is still your fellow-man, though crushed out of his original form -by individual errors, and the accumulative force of a combination of -circumstances?' - -'We have perfect confidence in you, Mr. Micawber,' said I, 'and will do -what you please.' - -'Mr. Copperfield,' returned Mr. Micawber, 'your confidence is not, at -the existing juncture, ill-bestowed. I would beg to be allowed a start -of five minutes by the clock; and then to receive the present company, -inquiring for Miss Wickfield, at the office of Wickfield and Heep, whose -Stipendiary I am.' - -My aunt and I looked at Traddles, who nodded his approval. - -'I have no more,' observed Mr. Micawber, 'to say at present.' - -With which, to my infinite surprise, he included us all in a -comprehensive bow, and disappeared; his manner being extremely distant, -and his face extremely pale. - -Traddles only smiled, and shook his head (with his hair standing upright -on the top of it), when I looked to him for an explanation; so I took -out my watch, and, as a last resource, counted off the five minutes. My -aunt, with her own watch in her hand, did the like. When the time was -expired, Traddles gave her his arm; and we all went out together to the -old house, without saying one word on the way. - -We found Mr. Micawber at his desk, in the turret office on the -ground floor, either writing, or pretending to write, hard. The large -office-ruler was stuck into his waistcoat, and was not so well concealed -but that a foot or more of that instrument protruded from his bosom, -like a new kind of shirt-frill. - -As it appeared to me that I was expected to speak, I said aloud: - -'How do you do, Mr. Micawber?' - -'Mr. Copperfield,' said Mr. Micawber, gravely, 'I hope I see you well?' - -'Is Miss Wickfield at home?' said I. - -'Mr. Wickfield is unwell in bed, sir, of a rheumatic fever,' he -returned; 'but Miss Wickfield, I have no doubt, will be happy to see old -friends. Will you walk in, sir?' - -He preceded us to the dining-room--the first room I had entered in that -house--and flinging open the door of Mr. Wickfield's former office, -said, in a sonorous voice: - -'Miss Trotwood, Mr. David Copperfield, Mr. Thomas Traddles, and Mr. -Dixon!' - -I had not seen Uriah Heep since the time of the blow. Our visit -astonished him, evidently; not the less, I dare say, because it -astonished ourselves. He did not gather his eyebrows together, for he -had none worth mentioning; but he frowned to that degree that he almost -closed his small eyes, while the hurried raising of his grisly hand to -his chin betrayed some trepidation or surprise. This was only when we -were in the act of entering his room, and when I caught a glance at him -over my aunt's shoulder. A moment afterwards, he was as fawning and as -humble as ever. - -'Well, I am sure,' he said. 'This is indeed an unexpected pleasure! To -have, as I may say, all friends round St. Paul's at once, is a treat -unlooked for! Mr. Copperfield, I hope I see you well, and--if I may -umbly express myself so--friendly towards them as is ever your friends, -whether or not. Mrs. Copperfield, sir, I hope she's getting on. We have -been made quite uneasy by the poor accounts we have had of her state, -lately, I do assure you.' - -I felt ashamed to let him take my hand, but I did not know yet what else -to do. - -'Things are changed in this office, Miss Trotwood, since I was an umble -clerk, and held your pony; ain't they?' said Uriah, with his sickliest -smile. 'But I am not changed, Miss Trotwood.' - -'Well, sir,' returned my aunt, 'to tell you the truth, I think you are -pretty constant to the promise of your youth; if that's any satisfaction -to you.' - -'Thank you, Miss Trotwood,' said Uriah, writhing in his ungainly manner, -'for your good opinion! Micawber, tell 'em to let Miss Agnes know--and -mother. Mother will be quite in a state, when she sees the present -company!' said Uriah, setting chairs. - -'You are not busy, Mr. Heep?' said Traddles, whose eye the cunning red -eye accidentally caught, as it at once scrutinized and evaded us. - -'No, Mr. Traddles,' replied Uriah, resuming his official seat, and -squeezing his bony hands, laid palm to palm between his bony knees. 'Not -so much so as I could wish. But lawyers, sharks, and leeches, are not -easily satisfied, you know! Not but what myself and Micawber have our -hands pretty full, in general, on account of Mr. Wickfield's being -hardly fit for any occupation, sir. But it's a pleasure as well as a -duty, I am sure, to work for him. You've not been intimate with Mr. -Wickfield, I think, Mr. Traddles? I believe I've only had the honour of -seeing you once myself?' - -'No, I have not been intimate with Mr. Wickfield,' returned Traddles; -'or I might perhaps have waited on you long ago, Mr. Heep.' - -There was something in the tone of this reply, which made Uriah look at -the speaker again, with a very sinister and suspicious expression. But, -seeing only Traddles, with his good-natured face, simple manner, and -hair on end, he dismissed it as he replied, with a jerk of his whole -body, but especially his throat: - -'I am sorry for that, Mr. Traddles. You would have admired him as much -as we all do. His little failings would only have endeared him to you -the more. But if you would like to hear my fellow-partner eloquently -spoken of, I should refer you to Copperfield. The family is a subject -he's very strong upon, if you never heard him.' - -I was prevented from disclaiming the compliment (if I should have -done so, in any case), by the entrance of Agnes, now ushered in by Mr. -Micawber. She was not quite so self-possessed as usual, I thought; and -had evidently undergone anxiety and fatigue. But her earnest cordiality, -and her quiet beauty, shone with the gentler lustre for it. - -I saw Uriah watch her while she greeted us; and he reminded me of an -ugly and rebellious genie watching a good spirit. In the meanwhile, -some slight sign passed between Mr. Micawber and Traddles; and Traddles, -unobserved except by me, went out. - -'Don't wait, Micawber,' said Uriah. - -Mr. Micawber, with his hand upon the ruler in his breast, stood erect -before the door, most unmistakably contemplating one of his fellow-men, -and that man his employer. - -'What are you waiting for?' said Uriah. 'Micawber! did you hear me tell -you not to wait?' - -'Yes!' replied the immovable Mr. Micawber. - -'Then why DO you wait?' said Uriah. - -'Because I--in short, choose,' replied Mr. Micawber, with a burst. - -Uriah's cheeks lost colour, and an unwholesome paleness, still faintly -tinged by his pervading red, overspread them. He looked at Mr. Micawber -attentively, with his whole face breathing short and quick in every -feature. - -'You are a dissipated fellow, as all the world knows,' he said, with an -effort at a smile, 'and I am afraid you'll oblige me to get rid of you. -Go along! I'll talk to you presently.' - -'If there is a scoundrel on this earth,' said Mr. Micawber, suddenly -breaking out again with the utmost vehemence, 'with whom I have already -talked too much, that scoundrel's name is--HEEP!' - -Uriah fell back, as if he had been struck or stung. Looking slowly round -upon us with the darkest and wickedest expression that his face could -wear, he said, in a lower voice: - -'Oho! This is a conspiracy! You have met here by appointment! You are -playing Booty with my clerk, are you, Copperfield? Now, take care. -You'll make nothing of this. We understand each other, you and me. -There's no love between us. You were always a puppy with a proud -stomach, from your first coming here; and you envy me my rise, do you? -None of your plots against me; I'll counterplot you! Micawber, you be -off. I'll talk to you presently.' - -'Mr. Micawber,' said I, 'there is a sudden change in this fellow, in -more respects than the extraordinary one of his speaking the truth in -one particular, which assures me that he is brought to bay. Deal with -him as he deserves!' - -'You are a precious set of people, ain't you?' said Uriah, in the same -low voice, and breaking out into a clammy heat, which he wiped from his -forehead, with his long lean hand, 'to buy over my clerk, who is the -very scum of society,--as you yourself were, Copperfield, you know it, -before anyone had charity on you,--to defame me with his lies? Miss -Trotwood, you had better stop this; or I'll stop your husband shorter -than will be pleasant to you. I won't know your story professionally, -for nothing, old lady! Miss Wickfield, if you have any love for your -father, you had better not join that gang. I'll ruin him, if you do. -Now, come! I have got some of you under the harrow. Think twice, before -it goes over you. Think twice, you, Micawber, if you don't want to -be crushed. I recommend you to take yourself off, and be talked to -presently, you fool! while there's time to retreat. Where's mother?' he -said, suddenly appearing to notice, with alarm, the absence of Traddles, -and pulling down the bell-rope. 'Fine doings in a person's own house!' - -'Mrs. Heep is here, sir,' said Traddles, returning with that worthy -mother of a worthy son. 'I have taken the liberty of making myself known -to her.' - -'Who are you to make yourself known?' retorted Uriah. 'And what do you -want here?' - -'I am the agent and friend of Mr. Wickfield, sir,' said Traddles, in a -composed and business-like way. 'And I have a power of attorney from him -in my pocket, to act for him in all matters.' - -'The old ass has drunk himself into a state of dotage,' said Uriah, -turning uglier than before, 'and it has been got from him by fraud!' - -'Something has been got from him by fraud, I know,' returned Traddles -quietly; 'and so do you, Mr. Heep. We will refer that question, if you -please, to Mr. Micawber.' - -'Ury--!' Mrs. Heep began, with an anxious gesture. - -'YOU hold your tongue, mother,' he returned; 'least said, soonest -mended.' - -'But, my Ury--' - -'Will you hold your tongue, mother, and leave it to me?' - -Though I had long known that his servility was false, and all his -pretences knavish and hollow, I had had no adequate conception of the -extent of his hypocrisy, until I now saw him with his mask off. The -suddenness with which he dropped it, when he perceived that it was -useless to him; the malice, insolence, and hatred, he revealed; the leer -with which he exulted, even at this moment, in the evil he had done--all -this time being desperate too, and at his wits' end for the means -of getting the better of us--though perfectly consistent with the -experience I had of him, at first took even me by surprise, who had -known him so long, and disliked him so heartily. - -I say nothing of the look he conferred on me, as he stood eyeing us, -one after another; for I had always understood that he hated me, and I -remembered the marks of my hand upon his cheek. But when his eyes passed -on to Agnes, and I saw the rage with which he felt his power over her -slipping away, and the exhibition, in their disappointment, of the -odious passions that had led him to aspire to one whose virtues he could -never appreciate or care for, I was shocked by the mere thought of her -having lived, an hour, within sight of such a man. - -After some rubbing of the lower part of his face, and some looking at us -with those bad eyes, over his grisly fingers, he made one more address -to me, half whining, and half abusive. - -'You think it justifiable, do you, Copperfield, you who pride yourself -so much on your honour and all the rest of it, to sneak about my place, -eaves-dropping with my clerk? If it had been ME, I shouldn't have -wondered; for I don't make myself out a gentleman (though I never was -in the streets either, as you were, according to Micawber), but being -you!--And you're not afraid of doing this, either? You don't think at -all of what I shall do, in return; or of getting yourself into -trouble for conspiracy and so forth? Very well. We shall see! Mr. -What's-your-name, you were going to refer some question to Micawber. -There's your referee. Why don't you make him speak? He has learnt his -lesson, I see.' - -Seeing that what he said had no effect on me or any of us, he sat on the -edge of his table with his hands in his pockets, and one of his splay -feet twisted round the other leg, waiting doggedly for what might -follow. - -Mr. Micawber, whose impetuosity I had restrained thus far with the -greatest difficulty, and who had repeatedly interposed with the first -syllable of SCOUN-drel! without getting to the second, now burst -forward, drew the ruler from his breast (apparently as a defensive -weapon), and produced from his pocket a foolscap document, folded in the -form of a large letter. Opening this packet, with his old flourish, and -glancing at the contents, as if he cherished an artistic admiration of -their style of composition, he began to read as follows: - - -'"Dear Miss Trotwood and gentlemen--"' - -'Bless and save the man!' exclaimed my aunt in a low voice. 'He'd write -letters by the ream, if it was a capital offence!' - -Mr. Micawber, without hearing her, went on. - -'"In appearing before you to denounce probably the most consummate -Villain that has ever existed,"' Mr. Micawber, without looking off the -letter, pointed the ruler, like a ghostly truncheon, at Uriah Heep, -'"I ask no consideration for myself. The victim, from my cradle, of -pecuniary liabilities to which I have been unable to respond, I have -ever been the sport and toy of debasing circumstances. Ignominy, -Want, Despair, and Madness, have, collectively or separately, been the -attendants of my career."' - -The relish with which Mr. Micawber described himself as a prey to these -dismal calamities, was only to be equalled by the emphasis with which he -read his letter; and the kind of homage he rendered to it with a roll of -his head, when he thought he had hit a sentence very hard indeed. - -'"In an accumulation of Ignominy, Want, Despair, and Madness, I entered -the office--or, as our lively neighbour the Gaul would term it, the -Bureau--of the Firm, nominally conducted under the appellation of -Wickfield and--HEEP, but in reality, wielded by--HEEP alone. HEEP, and -only HEEP, is the mainspring of that machine. HEEP, and only HEEP, is -the Forger and the Cheat."' - -Uriah, more blue than white at these words, made a dart at the letter, -as if to tear it in pieces. Mr. Micawber, with a perfect miracle of -dexterity or luck, caught his advancing knuckles with the ruler, and -disabled his right hand. It dropped at the wrist, as if it were broken. -The blow sounded as if it had fallen on wood. - -'The Devil take you!' said Uriah, writhing in a new way with pain. 'I'll -be even with you.' - -'Approach me again, you--you--you HEEP of infamy,' gasped Mr. Micawber, -'and if your head is human, I'll break it. Come on, come on!' - -I think I never saw anything more ridiculous--I was sensible of it, even -at the time--than Mr. Micawber making broad-sword guards with the ruler, -and crying, 'Come on!' while Traddles and I pushed him back into a -corner, from which, as often as we got him into it, he persisted in -emerging again. - -His enemy, muttering to himself, after wringing his wounded hand for -sometime, slowly drew off his neck-kerchief and bound it up; then -held it in his other hand, and sat upon his table with his sullen face -looking down. - -Mr. Micawber, when he was sufficiently cool, proceeded with his letter. - -'"The stipendiary emoluments in consideration of which I entered into -the service of--HEEP,"' always pausing before that word and uttering -it with astonishing vigour, '"were not defined, beyond the pittance of -twenty-two shillings and six per week. The rest was left contingent on -the value of my professional exertions; in other and more expressive -words, on the baseness of my nature, the cupidity of my motives, the -poverty of my family, the general moral (or rather immoral) resemblance -between myself and--HEEP. Need I say, that it soon became necessary for -me to solicit from--HEEP--pecuniary advances towards the support of -Mrs. Micawber, and our blighted but rising family? Need I say that this -necessity had been foreseen by--HEEP? That those advances were secured -by I.O.U.'s and other similar acknowledgements, known to the legal -institutions of this country? And that I thus became immeshed in the web -he had spun for my reception?"' - -Mr. Micawber's enjoyment of his epistolary powers, in describing this -unfortunate state of things, really seemed to outweigh any pain or -anxiety that the reality could have caused him. He read on: - -'"Then it was that--HEEP--began to favour me with just so much of his -confidence, as was necessary to the discharge of his infernal business. -Then it was that I began, if I may so Shakespearianly express myself, to -dwindle, peak, and pine. I found that my services were constantly -called into requisition for the falsification of business, and the -mystification of an individual whom I will designate as Mr. W. That Mr. -W. was imposed upon, kept in ignorance, and deluded, in every possible -way; yet, that all this while, the ruffian--HEEP--was professing -unbounded gratitude to, and unbounded friendship for, that much-abused -gentleman. This was bad enough; but, as the philosophic Dane observes, -with that universal applicability which distinguishes the illustrious -ornament of the Elizabethan Era, worse remains behind!"' - -Mr. Micawber was so very much struck by this happy rounding off with a -quotation, that he indulged himself, and us, with a second reading of -the sentence, under pretence of having lost his place. - -'"It is not my intention,"' he continued reading on, '"to enter on a -detailed list, within the compass of the present epistle (though it -is ready elsewhere), of the various malpractices of a minor nature, -affecting the individual whom I have denominated Mr. W., to which I -have been a tacitly consenting party. My object, when the contest within -myself between stipend and no stipend, baker and no baker, existence -and non-existence, ceased, was to take advantage of my opportunities -to discover and expose the major malpractices committed, to that -gentleman's grievous wrong and injury, by--HEEP. Stimulated by the -silent monitor within, and by a no less touching and appealing monitor -without--to whom I will briefly refer as Miss W.--I entered on a not -unlaborious task of clandestine investigation, protracted--now, to the -best of my knowledge, information, and belief, over a period exceeding -twelve calendar months."' - -He read this passage as if it were from an Act of Parliament; and -appeared majestically refreshed by the sound of the words. - -'"My charges against--HEEP,"' he read on, glancing at him, and drawing -the ruler into a convenient position under his left arm, in case of -need, '"are as follows."' - -We all held our breath, I think. I am sure Uriah held his. - -'"First,"' said Mr. Micawber, '"When Mr. W.'s faculties and memory -for business became, through causes into which it is not necessary or -expedient for me to enter, weakened and confused,--HEEP--designedly -perplexed and complicated the whole of the official transactions. When -Mr. W. was least fit to enter on business,--HEEP was always at hand -to force him to enter on it. He obtained Mr. W.'s signature under such -circumstances to documents of importance, representing them to be other -documents of no importance. He induced Mr. W. to empower him to draw -out, thus, one particular sum of trust-money, amounting to twelve six -fourteen, two and nine, and employed it to meet pretended business -charges and deficiencies which were either already provided for, or -had never really existed. He gave this proceeding, throughout, the -appearance of having originated in Mr. W.'s own dishonest intention, and -of having been accomplished by Mr. W.'s own dishonest act; and has used -it, ever since, to torture and constrain him."' - -'You shall prove this, you Copperfield!' said Uriah, with a threatening -shake of the head. 'All in good time!' - -'Ask--HEEP--Mr. Traddles, who lived in his house after him,' said Mr. -Micawber, breaking off from the letter; 'will you?' - -'The fool himself--and lives there now,' said Uriah, disdainfully. - -'Ask--HEEP--if he ever kept a pocket-book in that house,' said Mr. -Micawber; 'will you?' - -I saw Uriah's lank hand stop, involuntarily, in the scraping of his -chin. - -'Or ask him,' said Mr. Micawber,'if he ever burnt one there. If he says -yes, and asks you where the ashes are, refer him to Wilkins Micawber, -and he will hear of something not at all to his advantage!' - -The triumphant flourish with which Mr. Micawber delivered himself of -these words, had a powerful effect in alarming the mother; who cried -out, in much agitation: - -'Ury, Ury! Be umble, and make terms, my dear!' - -'Mother!' he retorted, 'will you keep quiet? You're in a fright, and -don't know what you say or mean. Umble!' he repeated, looking at me, -with a snarl; 'I've umbled some of 'em for a pretty long time back, -umble as I was!' - -Mr. Micawber, genteelly adjusting his chin in his cravat, presently -proceeded with his composition. - -'"Second. HEEP has, on several occasions, to the best of my knowledge, -information, and belief--"' - -'But that won't do,' muttered Uriah, relieved. 'Mother, you keep quiet.' - -'We will endeavour to provide something that WILL do, and do for you -finally, sir, very shortly,' replied Mr. Micawber. - -'"Second. HEEP has, on several occasions, to the best of my knowledge, -information, and belief, systematically forged, to various entries, -books, and documents, the signature of Mr. W.; and has distinctly done -so in one instance, capable of proof by me. To wit, in manner following, -that is to say:"' - -Again, Mr. Micawber had a relish in this formal piling up of words, -which, however ludicrously displayed in his case, was, I must say, not -at all peculiar to him. I have observed it, in the course of my life, -in numbers of men. It seems to me to be a general rule. In the taking of -legal oaths, for instance, deponents seem to enjoy themselves mightily -when they come to several good words in succession, for the expression -of one idea; as, that they utterly detest, abominate, and abjure, or so -forth; and the old anathemas were made relishing on the same principle. -We talk about the tyranny of words, but we like to tyrannize over them -too; we are fond of having a large superfluous establishment of words to -wait upon us on great occasions; we think it looks important, and sounds -well. As we are not particular about the meaning of our liveries on -state occasions, if they be but fine and numerous enough, so, the -meaning or necessity of our words is a secondary consideration, if there -be but a great parade of them. And as individuals get into trouble by -making too great a show of liveries, or as slaves when they are too -numerous rise against their masters, so I think I could mention a -nation that has got into many great difficulties, and will get into many -greater, from maintaining too large a retinue of words. - -Mr. Micawber read on, almost smacking his lips: - -'"To wit, in manner following, that is to say. Mr. W. being infirm, and -it being within the bounds of probability that his decease might lead -to some discoveries, and to the downfall of--HEEP'S--power over the W. -family,--as I, Wilkins Micawber, the undersigned, assume--unless the -filial affection of his daughter could be secretly influenced from -allowing any investigation of the partnership affairs to be ever made, -the said--HEEP--deemed it expedient to have a bond ready by him, as from -Mr. W., for the before-mentioned sum of twelve six fourteen, two and -nine, with interest, stated therein to have been advanced by--HEEP--to -Mr. W. to save Mr. W. from dishonour; though really the sum was never -advanced by him, and has long been replaced. The signatures to this -instrument purporting to be executed by Mr. W. and attested by Wilkins -Micawber, are forgeries by--HEEP. I have, in my possession, in his hand -and pocket-book, several similar imitations of Mr. W.'s signature, here -and there defaced by fire, but legible to anyone. I never attested any -such document. And I have the document itself, in my possession."' Uriah -Heep, with a start, took out of his pocket a bunch of keys, and opened -a certain drawer; then, suddenly bethought himself of what he was about, -and turned again towards us, without looking in it. - -'"And I have the document,"' Mr. Micawber read again, looking about as -if it were the text of a sermon, '"in my possession,--that is to say, -I had, early this morning, when this was written, but have since -relinquished it to Mr. Traddles."' - -'It is quite true,' assented Traddles. - -'Ury, Ury!' cried the mother, 'be umble and make terms. I know my -son will be umble, gentlemen, if you'll give him time to think. Mr. -Copperfield, I'm sure you know that he was always very umble, sir!' - -It was singular to see how the mother still held to the old trick, when -the son had abandoned it as useless. - -'Mother,' he said, with an impatient bite at the handkerchief in which -his hand was wrapped, 'you had better take and fire a loaded gun at me.' - -'But I love you, Ury,' cried Mrs. Heep. And I have no doubt she did; or -that he loved her, however strange it may appear; though, to be sure, -they were a congenial couple. 'And I can't bear to hear you provoking -the gentlemen, and endangering of yourself more. I told the gentleman -at first, when he told me upstairs it was come to light, that I would -answer for your being umble, and making amends. Oh, see how umble I am, -gentlemen, and don't mind him!' - -'Why, there's Copperfield, mother,' he angrily retorted, pointing his -lean finger at me, against whom all his animosity was levelled, as the -prime mover in the discovery; and I did not undeceive him; 'there's -Copperfield, would have given you a hundred pound to say less than -you've blurted out!' - -'I can't help it, Ury,' cried his mother. 'I can't see you running into -danger, through carrying your head so high. Better be umble, as you -always was.' - -He remained for a little, biting the handkerchief, and then said to me -with a scowl: - -'What more have you got to bring forward? If anything, go on with it. -What do you look at me for?' - -Mr. Micawber promptly resumed his letter, glad to revert to a -performance with which he was so highly satisfied. - -'"Third. And last. I am now in a condition to show, by--HEEP'S--false -books, and--HEEP'S--real memoranda, beginning with the partially -destroyed pocket-book (which I was unable to comprehend, at the time of -its accidental discovery by Mrs. Micawber, on our taking possession of -our present abode, in the locker or bin devoted to the reception of the -ashes calcined on our domestic hearth), that the weaknesses, the faults, -the very virtues, the parental affections, and the sense of honour, of -the unhappy Mr. W. have been for years acted on by, and warped to the -base purposes of--HEEP. That Mr. W. has been for years deluded and -plundered, in every conceivable manner, to the pecuniary aggrandisement -of the avaricious, false, and grasping--HEEP. That the engrossing object -of--HEEP--was, next to gain, to subdue Mr. and Miss W. (of his ulterior -views in reference to the latter I say nothing) entirely to himself. -That his last act, completed but a few months since, was to induce Mr. -W. to execute a relinquishment of his share in the partnership, and even -a bill of sale on the very furniture of his house, in consideration of a -certain annuity, to be well and truly paid by--HEEP--on the four common -quarter-days in each and every year. That these meshes; beginning with -alarming and falsified accounts of the estate of which Mr. W. is the -receiver, at a period when Mr. W. had launched into imprudent and -ill-judged speculations, and may not have had the money, for which he -was morally and legally responsible, in hand; going on with pretended -borrowings of money at enormous interest, really coming from--HEEP--and -by--HEEP--fraudulently obtained or withheld from Mr. W. himself, -on pretence of such speculations or otherwise; perpetuated by a -miscellaneous catalogue of unscrupulous chicaneries--gradually -thickened, until the unhappy Mr. W. could see no world beyond. Bankrupt, -as he believed, alike in circumstances, in all other hope, and -in honour, his sole reliance was upon the monster in the garb of -man,"'--Mr. Micawber made a good deal of this, as a new turn of -expression,--'"who, by making himself necessary to him, had achieved his -destruction. All this I undertake to show. Probably much more!"' - -I whispered a few words to Agnes, who was weeping, half joyfully, half -sorrowfully, at my side; and there was a movement among us, as if Mr. -Micawber had finished. He said, with exceeding gravity, 'Pardon me,' -and proceeded, with a mixture of the lowest spirits and the most intense -enjoyment, to the peroration of his letter. - -'"I have now concluded. It merely remains for me to substantiate these -accusations; and then, with my ill-starred family, to disappear from the -landscape on which we appear to be an encumbrance. That is soon done. It -may be reasonably inferred that our baby will first expire of inanition, -as being the frailest member of our circle; and that our twins will -follow next in order. So be it! For myself, my Canterbury Pilgrimage has -done much; imprisonment on civil process, and want, will soon do more. -I trust that the labour and hazard of an investigation--of which the -smallest results have been slowly pieced together, in the pressure of -arduous avocations, under grinding penurious apprehensions, at rise of -morn, at dewy eve, in the shadows of night, under the watchful eye of -one whom it were superfluous to call Demon--combined with the struggle -of parental Poverty to turn it, when completed, to the right account, -may be as the sprinkling of a few drops of sweet water on my funeral -pyre. I ask no more. Let it be, in justice, merely said of me, as of a -gallant and eminent naval Hero, with whom I have no pretensions to -cope, that what I have done, I did, in despite of mercenary and selfish -objects, - - For England, home, and Beauty. - - '"Remaining always, &c. &c., WILKINS MICAWBER."' - - -Much affected, but still intensely enjoying himself, Mr. Micawber folded -up his letter, and handed it with a bow to my aunt, as something she -might like to keep. - -There was, as I had noticed on my first visit long ago, an iron safe in -the room. The key was in it. A hasty suspicion seemed to strike Uriah; -and, with a glance at Mr. Micawber, he went to it, and threw the doors -clanking open. It was empty. - -'Where are the books?' he cried, with a frightful face. 'Some thief has -stolen the books!' - -Mr. Micawber tapped himself with the ruler. 'I did, when I got the key -from you as usual--but a little earlier--and opened it this morning.' - -'Don't be uneasy,' said Traddles. 'They have come into my possession. I -will take care of them, under the authority I mentioned.' - -'You receive stolen goods, do you?' cried Uriah. - -'Under such circumstances,' answered Traddles, 'yes.' - -What was my astonishment when I beheld my aunt, who had been profoundly -quiet and attentive, make a dart at Uriah Heep, and seize him by the -collar with both hands! - -'You know what I want?' said my aunt. - -'A strait-waistcoat,' said he. - -'No. My property!' returned my aunt. 'Agnes, my dear, as long as -I believed it had been really made away with by your father, I -wouldn't--and, my dear, I didn't, even to Trot, as he knows--breathe a -syllable of its having been placed here for investment. But, now I know -this fellow's answerable for it, and I'll have it! Trot, come and take -it away from him!' - -Whether my aunt supposed, for the moment, that he kept her property in -his neck-kerchief, I am sure I don't know; but she certainly pulled at -it as if she thought so. I hastened to put myself between them, and to -assure her that we would all take care that he should make the utmost -restitution of everything he had wrongly got. This, and a few moments' -reflection, pacified her; but she was not at all disconcerted by what -she had done (though I cannot say as much for her bonnet) and resumed -her seat composedly. - -During the last few minutes, Mrs. Heep had been clamouring to her son -to be 'umble'; and had been going down on her knees to all of us in -succession, and making the wildest promises. Her son sat her down in his -chair; and, standing sulkily by her, holding her arm with his hand, but -not rudely, said to me, with a ferocious look: - -'What do you want done?' - -'I will tell you what must be done,' said Traddles. - -'Has that Copperfield no tongue?' muttered Uriah, 'I would do a good -deal for you if you could tell me, without lying, that somebody had cut -it out.' - -'My Uriah means to be umble!' cried his mother. 'Don't mind what he -says, good gentlemen!' - -'What must be done,' said Traddles, 'is this. First, the deed of -relinquishment, that we have heard of, must be given over to me -now--here.' - -'Suppose I haven't got it,' he interrupted. - -'But you have,' said Traddles; 'therefore, you know, we won't suppose -so.' And I cannot help avowing that this was the first occasion on -which I really did justice to the clear head, and the plain, patient, -practical good sense, of my old schoolfellow. 'Then,' said Traddles, -'you must prepare to disgorge all that your rapacity has become -possessed of, and to make restoration to the last farthing. All the -partnership books and papers must remain in our possession; all your -books and papers; all money accounts and securities, of both kinds. In -short, everything here.' - -'Must it? I don't know that,' said Uriah. 'I must have time to think -about that.' - -'Certainly,' replied Traddles; 'but, in the meanwhile, and until -everything is done to our satisfaction, we shall maintain possession -of these things; and beg you--in short, compel you--to keep to your own -room, and hold no communication with anyone.' - -'I won't do it!' said Uriah, with an oath. - -'Maidstone jail is a safer place of detention,' observed Traddles; 'and -though the law may be longer in righting us, and may not be able to -right us so completely as you can, there is no doubt of its punishing -YOU. Dear me, you know that quite as well as I! Copperfield, will you go -round to the Guildhall, and bring a couple of officers?' - -Here, Mrs. Heep broke out again, crying on her knees to Agnes to -interfere in their behalf, exclaiming that he was very humble, and it -was all true, and if he didn't do what we wanted, she would, and much -more to the same purpose; being half frantic with fears for her darling. -To inquire what he might have done, if he had had any boldness, would -be like inquiring what a mongrel cur might do, if it had the spirit of -a tiger. He was a coward, from head to foot; and showed his dastardly -nature through his sullenness and mortification, as much as at any time -of his mean life. - -'Stop!' he growled to me; and wiped his hot face with his hand. 'Mother, -hold your noise. Well! Let 'em have that deed. Go and fetch it!' - -'Do you help her, Mr. Dick,' said Traddles, 'if you please.' - -Proud of his commission, and understanding it, Mr. Dick accompanied her -as a shepherd's dog might accompany a sheep. But, Mrs. Heep gave him -little trouble; for she not only returned with the deed, but with the -box in which it was, where we found a banker's book and some other -papers that were afterwards serviceable. - -'Good!' said Traddles, when this was brought. 'Now, Mr. Heep, you can -retire to think: particularly observing, if you please, that I declare -to you, on the part of all present, that there is only one thing to be -done; that it is what I have explained; and that it must be done without -delay.' - -Uriah, without lifting his eyes from the ground, shuffled across the -room with his hand to his chin, and pausing at the door, said: - -'Copperfield, I have always hated you. You've always been an upstart, -and you've always been against me.' - -'As I think I told you once before,' said I, 'it is you who have been, -in your greed and cunning, against all the world. It may be profitable -to you to reflect, in future, that there never were greed and cunning in -the world yet, that did not do too much, and overreach themselves. It is -as certain as death.' - -'Or as certain as they used to teach at school (the same school where I -picked up so much umbleness), from nine o'clock to eleven, that labour -was a curse; and from eleven o'clock to one, that it was a blessing and -a cheerfulness, and a dignity, and I don't know what all, eh?' said -he with a sneer. 'You preach, about as consistent as they did. -Won't umbleness go down? I shouldn't have got round my gentleman -fellow-partner without it, I think. --Micawber, you old bully, I'll pay -YOU!' - -Mr. Micawber, supremely defiant of him and his extended finger, and -making a great deal of his chest until he had slunk out at the door, -then addressed himself to me, and proffered me the satisfaction of -'witnessing the re-establishment of mutual confidence between himself -and Mrs. Micawber'. After which, he invited the company generally to the -contemplation of that affecting spectacle. - -'The veil that has long been interposed between Mrs. Micawber and -myself, is now withdrawn,' said Mr. Micawber; 'and my children and the -Author of their Being can once more come in contact on equal terms.' - -As we were all very grateful to him, and all desirous to show that we -were, as well as the hurry and disorder of our spirits would permit, I -dare say we should all have gone, but that it was necessary for Agnes to -return to her father, as yet unable to bear more than the dawn of -hope; and for someone else to hold Uriah in safe keeping. So, Traddles -remained for the latter purpose, to be presently relieved by Mr. Dick; -and Mr. Dick, my aunt, and I, went home with Mr. Micawber. As I parted -hurriedly from the dear girl to whom I owed so much, and thought from -what she had been saved, perhaps, that morning--her better resolution -notwithstanding--I felt devoutly thankful for the miseries of my younger -days which had brought me to the knowledge of Mr. Micawber. - -His house was not far off; and as the street door opened into the -sitting-room, and he bolted in with a precipitation quite his own, -we found ourselves at once in the bosom of the family. Mr. Micawber -exclaiming, 'Emma! my life!' rushed into Mrs. Micawber's arms. Mrs. -Micawber shrieked, and folded Mr. Micawber in her embrace. Miss -Micawber, nursing the unconscious stranger of Mrs. Micawber's last -letter to me, was sensibly affected. The stranger leaped. The twins -testified their joy by several inconvenient but innocent demonstrations. -Master Micawber, whose disposition appeared to have been soured by -early disappointment, and whose aspect had become morose, yielded to his -better feelings, and blubbered. - -'Emma!' said Mr. Micawber. 'The cloud is past from my mind. Mutual -confidence, so long preserved between us once, is restored, to know -no further interruption. Now, welcome poverty!' cried Mr. Micawber, -shedding tears. 'Welcome misery, welcome houselessness, welcome hunger, -rags, tempest, and beggary! Mutual confidence will sustain us to the -end!' - -With these expressions, Mr. Micawber placed Mrs. Micawber in a chair, -and embraced the family all round; welcoming a variety of bleak -prospects, which appeared, to the best of my judgement, to be anything -but welcome to them; and calling upon them to come out into Canterbury -and sing a chorus, as nothing else was left for their support. - -But Mrs. Micawber having, in the strength of her emotions, fainted away, -the first thing to be done, even before the chorus could be considered -complete, was to recover her. This my aunt and Mr. Micawber did; and -then my aunt was introduced, and Mrs. Micawber recognized me. - -'Excuse me, dear Mr. Copperfield,' said the poor lady, giving me her -hand, 'but I am not strong; and the removal of the late misunderstanding -between Mr. Micawber and myself was at first too much for me.' - -'Is this all your family, ma'am?' said my aunt. - -'There are no more at present,' returned Mrs. Micawber. - -'Good gracious, I didn't mean that, ma'am,' said my aunt. 'I mean, are -all these yours?' - -'Madam,' replied Mr. Micawber, 'it is a true bill.' - -'And that eldest young gentleman, now,' said my aunt, musing, 'what has -he been brought up to?' - -'It was my hope when I came here,' said Mr. Micawber, 'to have got -Wilkins into the Church: or perhaps I shall express my meaning more -strictly, if I say the Choir. But there was no vacancy for a tenor in -the venerable Pile for which this city is so justly eminent; and he -has--in short, he has contracted a habit of singing in public-houses, -rather than in sacred edifices.' - -'But he means well,' said Mrs. Micawber, tenderly. - -'I dare say, my love,' rejoined Mr. Micawber, 'that he means -particularly well; but I have not yet found that he carries out his -meaning, in any given direction whatsoever.' - -Master Micawber's moroseness of aspect returned upon him again, and he -demanded, with some temper, what he was to do? Whether he had been born -a carpenter, or a coach-painter, any more than he had been born a bird? -Whether he could go into the next street, and open a chemist's shop? -Whether he could rush to the next assizes, and proclaim himself a -lawyer? Whether he could come out by force at the opera, and succeed -by violence? Whether he could do anything, without being brought up to -something? - -My aunt mused a little while, and then said: - -'Mr. Micawber, I wonder you have never turned your thoughts to -emigration.' - -'Madam,' returned Mr. Micawber, 'it was the dream of my youth, and the -fallacious aspiration of my riper years.' I am thoroughly persuaded, by -the by, that he had never thought of it in his life. - -'Aye?' said my aunt, with a glance at me. 'Why, what a thing it would -be for yourselves and your family, Mr. and Mrs. Micawber, if you were to -emigrate now.' - -'Capital, madam, capital,' urged Mr. Micawber, gloomily. - -'That is the principal, I may say the only difficulty, my dear Mr. -Copperfield,' assented his wife. - -'Capital?' cried my aunt. 'But you are doing us a great service--have -done us a great service, I may say, for surely much will come out of -the fire--and what could we do for you, that would be half so good as to -find the capital?' - -'I could not receive it as a gift,' said Mr. Micawber, full of fire and -animation, 'but if a sufficient sum could be advanced, say at five per -cent interest, per annum, upon my personal liability--say my notes of -hand, at twelve, eighteen, and twenty-four months, respectively, to -allow time for something to turn up--' - -'Could be? Can be and shall be, on your own terms,' returned my aunt, -'if you say the word. Think of this now, both of you. Here are some -people David knows, going out to Australia shortly. If you decide to go, -why shouldn't you go in the same ship? You may help each other. Think of -this now, Mr. and Mrs. Micawber. Take your time, and weigh it well.' - -'There is but one question, my dear ma'am, I could wish to ask,' said -Mrs. Micawber. 'The climate, I believe, is healthy?' - -'Finest in the world!' said my aunt. - -'Just so,' returned Mrs. Micawber. 'Then my question arises. Now, are -the circumstances of the country such, that a man of Mr. Micawber's -abilities would have a fair chance of rising in the social scale? I will -not say, at present, might he aspire to be Governor, or anything of that -sort; but would there be a reasonable opening for his talents to -develop themselves--that would be amply sufficient--and find their own -expansion?' - -'No better opening anywhere,' said my aunt, 'for a man who conducts -himself well, and is industrious.' - -'For a man who conducts himself well,' repeated Mrs. Micawber, with her -clearest business manner, 'and is industrious. Precisely. It is -evident to me that Australia is the legitimate sphere of action for Mr. -Micawber!' - -'I entertain the conviction, my dear madam,' said Mr. Micawber, 'that -it is, under existing circumstances, the land, the only land, for myself -and family; and that something of an extraordinary nature will turn up -on that shore. It is no distance--comparatively speaking; and though -consideration is due to the kindness of your proposal, I assure you that -is a mere matter of form.' - -Shall I ever forget how, in a moment, he was the most sanguine of men, -looking on to fortune; or how Mrs. Micawber presently discoursed -about the habits of the kangaroo! Shall I ever recall that street of -Canterbury on a market-day, without recalling him, as he walked -back with us; expressing, in the hardy roving manner he assumed, the -unsettled habits of a temporary sojourner in the land; and looking at -the bullocks, as they came by, with the eye of an Australian farmer! - - - -CHAPTER 53. ANOTHER RETROSPECT - - -I must pause yet once again. O, my child-wife, there is a figure in the -moving crowd before my memory, quiet and still, saying in its innocent -love and childish beauty, Stop to think of me--turn to look upon the -Little Blossom, as it flutters to the ground! - -I do. All else grows dim, and fades away. I am again with Dora, in our -cottage. I do not know how long she has been ill. I am so used to it in -feeling, that I cannot count the time. It is not really long, in weeks -or months; but, in my usage and experience, it is a weary, weary while. - -They have left off telling me to 'wait a few days more'. I have begun -to fear, remotely, that the day may never shine, when I shall see my -child-wife running in the sunlight with her old friend Jip. - -He is, as it were suddenly, grown very old. It may be that he misses in -his mistress, something that enlivened him and made him younger; but he -mopes, and his sight is weak, and his limbs are feeble, and my aunt is -sorry that he objects to her no more, but creeps near her as he lies on -Dora's bed--she sitting at the bedside--and mildly licks her hand. - -Dora lies smiling on us, and is beautiful, and utters no hasty or -complaining word. She says that we are very good to her; that her dear -old careful boy is tiring himself out, she knows; that my aunt has no -sleep, yet is always wakeful, active, and kind. Sometimes, the -little bird-like ladies come to see her; and then we talk about our -wedding-day, and all that happy time. - -What a strange rest and pause in my life there seems to be--and in all -life, within doors and without--when I sit in the quiet, shaded, orderly -room, with the blue eyes of my child-wife turned towards me, and her -little fingers twining round my hand! Many and many an hour I sit thus; -but, of all those times, three times come the freshest on my mind. - - -It is morning; and Dora, made so trim by my aunt's hands, shows me how -her pretty hair will curl upon the pillow yet, an how long and bright it -is, and how she likes to have it loosely gathered in that net she wears. - -'Not that I am vain of it, now, you mocking boy,' she says, when I -smile; 'but because you used to say you thought it so beautiful; and -because, when I first began to think about you, I used to peep in the -glass, and wonder whether you would like very much to have a lock of it. -Oh what a foolish fellow you were, Doady, when I gave you one!' - -'That was on the day when you were painting the flowers I had given you, -Dora, and when I told you how much in love I was.' - -'Ah! but I didn't like to tell you,' says Dora, 'then, how I had cried -over them, because I believed you really liked me! When I can run about -again as I used to do, Doady, let us go and see those places where we -were such a silly couple, shall we? And take some of the old walks? And -not forget poor papa?' - -'Yes, we will, and have some happy days. So you must make haste to get -well, my dear.' - -'Oh, I shall soon do that! I am so much better, you don't know!' - - -It is evening; and I sit in the same chair, by the same bed, with the -same face turned towards me. We have been silent, and there is a smile -upon her face. I have ceased to carry my light burden up and down stairs -now. She lies here all the day. - -'Doady!' - -'My dear Dora!' - -'You won't think what I am going to say, unreasonable, after what you -told me, such a little while ago, of Mr. Wickfield's not being well? I -want to see Agnes. Very much I want to see her.' - -'I will write to her, my dear.' - -'Will you?' - -'Directly.' - -'What a good, kind boy! Doady, take me on your arm. Indeed, my dear, -it's not a whim. It's not a foolish fancy. I want, very much indeed, to -see her!' - -'I am certain of it. I have only to tell her so, and she is sure to -come.' - -'You are very lonely when you go downstairs, now?' Dora whispers, with -her arm about my neck. - -'How can I be otherwise, my own love, when I see your empty chair?' - -'My empty chair!' She clings to me for a little while, in silence. 'And -you really miss me, Doady?' looking up, and brightly smiling. 'Even -poor, giddy, stupid me?' - -'My heart, who is there upon earth that I could miss so much?' - -'Oh, husband! I am so glad, yet so sorry!' creeping closer to me, and -folding me in both her arms. She laughs and sobs, and then is quiet, and -quite happy. - -'Quite!' she says. 'Only give Agnes my dear love, and tell her that I -want very, very, much to see her; and I have nothing left to wish for.' - -'Except to get well again, Dora.' - -'Ah, Doady! Sometimes I think--you know I always was a silly little -thing!--that that will never be!' - -'Don't say so, Dora! Dearest love, don't think so!' - -'I won't, if I can help it, Doady. But I am very happy; though my dear -boy is so lonely by himself, before his child-wife's empty chair!' - - -It is night; and I am with her still. Agnes has arrived; has been among -us for a whole day and an evening. She, my aunt, and I, have sat with -Dora since the morning, all together. We have not talked much, but Dora -has been perfectly contented and cheerful. We are now alone. - -Do I know, now, that my child-wife will soon leave me? They have told me -so; they have told me nothing new to my thoughts--but I am far from -sure that I have taken that truth to heart. I cannot master it. I have -withdrawn by myself, many times today, to weep. I have remembered Who -wept for a parting between the living and the dead. I have bethought me -of all that gracious and compassionate history. I have tried to resign -myself, and to console myself; and that, I hope, I may have done -imperfectly; but what I cannot firmly settle in my mind is, that the end -will absolutely come. I hold her hand in mine, I hold her heart in mine, -I see her love for me, alive in all its strength. I cannot shut out a -pale lingering shadow of belief that she will be spared. - -'I am going to speak to you, Doady. I am going to say something I have -often thought of saying, lately. You won't mind?' with a gentle look. - -'Mind, my darling?' - -'Because I don't know what you will think, or what you may have thought -sometimes. Perhaps you have often thought the same. Doady, dear, I am -afraid I was too young.' - -I lay my face upon the pillow by her, and she looks into my eyes, and -speaks very softly. Gradually, as she goes on, I feel, with a stricken -heart, that she is speaking of herself as past. - -'I am afraid, dear, I was too young. I don't mean in years only, but -in experience, and thoughts, and everything. I was such a silly little -creature! I am afraid it would have been better, if we had only loved -each other as a boy and girl, and forgotten it. I have begun to think I -was not fit to be a wife.' - -I try to stay my tears, and to reply, 'Oh, Dora, love, as fit as I to be -a husband!' - -'I don't know,' with the old shake of her curls. 'Perhaps! But if I had -been more fit to be married I might have made you more so, too. Besides, -you are very clever, and I never was.' - -'We have been very happy, my sweet Dora.' - -'I was very happy, very. But, as years went on, my dear boy would have -wearied of his child-wife. She would have been less and less a companion -for him. He would have been more and more sensible of what was wanting -in his home. She wouldn't have improved. It is better as it is.' - -'Oh, Dora, dearest, dearest, do not speak to me so. Every word seems a -reproach!' - -'No, not a syllable!' she answers, kissing me. 'Oh, my dear, you never -deserved it, and I loved you far too well to say a reproachful word to -you, in earnest--it was all the merit I had, except being pretty--or you -thought me so. Is it lonely, down-stairs, Doady?' - -'Very! Very!' - -'Don't cry! Is my chair there?' - -'In its old place.' - -'Oh, how my poor boy cries! Hush, hush! Now, make me one promise. I want -to speak to Agnes. When you go downstairs, tell Agnes so, and send her -up to me; and while I speak to her, let no one come--not even aunt. -I want to speak to Agnes by herself. I want to speak to Agnes, quite -alone.' - -I promise that she shall, immediately; but I cannot leave her, for my -grief. - -'I said that it was better as it is!' she whispers, as she holds me in -her arms. 'Oh, Doady, after more years, you never could have loved your -child-wife better than you do; and, after more years, she would so have -tried and disappointed you, that you might not have been able to love -her half so well! I know I was too young and foolish. It is much better -as it is!' - -Agnes is downstairs, when I go into the parlour; and I give her the -message. She disappears, leaving me alone with Jip. - -His Chinese house is by the fire; and he lies within it, on his bed of -flannel, querulously trying to sleep. The bright moon is high and clear. -As I look out on the night, my tears fall fast, and my undisciplined -heart is chastened heavily--heavily. - -I sit down by the fire, thinking with a blind remorse of all those -secret feelings I have nourished since my marriage. I think of every -little trifle between me and Dora, and feel the truth, that trifles -make the sum of life. Ever rising from the sea of my remembrance, is the -image of the dear child as I knew her first, graced by my young love, -and by her own, with every fascination wherein such love is rich. Would -it, indeed, have been better if we had loved each other as a boy and a -girl, and forgotten it? Undisciplined heart, reply! - -How the time wears, I know not; until I am recalled by my child-wife's -old companion. More restless than he was, he crawls out of his house, -and looks at me, and wanders to the door, and whines to go upstairs. - -'Not tonight, Jip! Not tonight!' - -He comes very slowly back to me, licks my hand, and lifts his dim eyes -to my face. - -'Oh, Jip! It may be, never again!' - -He lies down at my feet, stretches himself out as if to sleep, and with -a plaintive cry, is dead. - -'Oh, Agnes! Look, look, here!' --That face, so full of pity, and of -grief, that rain of tears, that awful mute appeal to me, that solemn -hand upraised towards Heaven! - -'Agnes?' - -It is over. Darkness comes before my eyes; and, for a time, all things -are blotted out of my remembrance. - - - -CHAPTER 54. Mr. MICAWBER'S TRANSACTIONS - - -This is not the time at which I am to enter on the state of my mind -beneath its load of sorrow. I came to think that the Future was walled -up before me, that the energy and action of my life were at an end, that -I never could find any refuge but in the grave. I came to think so, I -say, but not in the first shock of my grief. It slowly grew to that. -If the events I go on to relate, had not thickened around me, in the -beginning to confuse, and in the end to augment, my affliction, it is -possible (though I think not probable), that I might have fallen at once -into this condition. As it was, an interval occurred before I fully knew -my own distress; an interval, in which I even supposed that its sharpest -pangs were past; and when my mind could soothe itself by resting on -all that was most innocent and beautiful, in the tender story that was -closed for ever. - -When it was first proposed that I should go abroad, or how it came to be -agreed among us that I was to seek the restoration of my peace in change -and travel, I do not, even now, distinctly know. The spirit of Agnes so -pervaded all we thought, and said, and did, in that time of sorrow, that -I assume I may refer the project to her influence. But her influence was -so quiet that I know no more. - -And now, indeed, I began to think that in my old association of her with -the stained-glass window in the church, a prophetic foreshadowing of -what she would be to me, in the calamity that was to happen in the -fullness of time, had found a way into my mind. In all that sorrow, from -the moment, never to be forgotten, when she stood before me with her -upraised hand, she was like a sacred presence in my lonely house. When -the Angel of Death alighted there, my child-wife fell asleep--they told -me so when I could bear to hear it--on her bosom, with a smile. From my -swoon, I first awoke to a consciousness of her compassionate tears, her -words of hope and peace, her gentle face bending down as from a purer -region nearer Heaven, over my undisciplined heart, and softening its -pain. - -Let me go on. - -I was to go abroad. That seemed to have been determined among us from -the first. The ground now covering all that could perish of my -departed wife, I waited only for what Mr. Micawber called the 'final -pulverization of Heep'; and for the departure of the emigrants. - -At the request of Traddles, most affectionate and devoted of friends in -my trouble, we returned to Canterbury: I mean my aunt, Agnes, and I. We -proceeded by appointment straight to Mr. Micawber's house; where, and at -Mr. Wickfield's, my friend had been labouring ever since our explosive -meeting. When poor Mrs. Micawber saw me come in, in my black clothes, -she was sensibly affected. There was a great deal of good in Mrs. -Micawber's heart, which had not been dunned out of it in all those many -years. - -'Well, Mr. and Mrs. Micawber,' was my aunt's first salutation after we -were seated. 'Pray, have you thought about that emigration proposal of -mine?' - -'My dear madam,' returned Mr. Micawber, 'perhaps I cannot better express -the conclusion at which Mrs. Micawber, your humble servant, and I may -add our children, have jointly and severally arrived, than by borrowing -the language of an illustrious poet, to reply that our Boat is on the -shore, and our Bark is on the sea.' - -'That's right,' said my aunt. 'I augur all sort of good from your -sensible decision.' - -'Madam, you do us a great deal of honour,' he rejoined. He then referred -to a memorandum. 'With respect to the pecuniary assistance enabling -us to launch our frail canoe on the ocean of enterprise, I have -reconsidered that important business-point; and would beg to propose -my notes of hand--drawn, it is needless to stipulate, on stamps of the -amounts respectively required by the various Acts of Parliament applying -to such securities--at eighteen, twenty-four, and thirty months. -The proposition I originally submitted, was twelve, eighteen, and -twenty-four; but I am apprehensive that such an arrangement might not -allow sufficient time for the requisite amount of--Something--to turn -up. We might not,' said Mr. Micawber, looking round the room as if it -represented several hundred acres of highly cultivated land, 'on the -first responsibility becoming due, have been successful in our harvest, -or we might not have got our harvest in. Labour, I believe, is sometimes -difficult to obtain in that portion of our colonial possessions where it -will be our lot to combat with the teeming soil.' - -'Arrange it in any way you please, sir,' said my aunt. - -'Madam,' he replied, 'Mrs. Micawber and myself are deeply sensible of -the very considerate kindness of our friends and patrons. What I wish -is, to be perfectly business-like, and perfectly punctual. Turning over, -as we are about to turn over, an entirely new leaf; and falling back, -as we are now in the act of falling back, for a Spring of no common -magnitude; it is important to my sense of self-respect, besides being -an example to my son, that these arrangements should be concluded as -between man and man.' - -I don't know that Mr. Micawber attached any meaning to this last phrase; -I don't know that anybody ever does, or did; but he appeared to relish -it uncommonly, and repeated, with an impressive cough, 'as between man -and man'. - -'I propose,' said Mr. Micawber, 'Bills--a convenience to the mercantile -world, for which, I believe, we are originally indebted to the Jews, who -appear to me to have had a devilish deal too much to do with them -ever since--because they are negotiable. But if a Bond, or any other -description of security, would be preferred, I should be happy to -execute any such instrument. As between man and man.' - -My aunt observed, that in a case where both parties were willing to -agree to anything, she took it for granted there would be no difficulty -in settling this point. Mr. Micawber was of her opinion. - -'In reference to our domestic preparations, madam,' said Mr. Micawber, -with some pride, 'for meeting the destiny to which we are now understood -to be self-devoted, I beg to report them. My eldest daughter attends -at five every morning in a neighbouring establishment, to acquire -the process--if process it may be called--of milking cows. My younger -children are instructed to observe, as closely as circumstances will -permit, the habits of the pigs and poultry maintained in the poorer -parts of this city: a pursuit from which they have, on two occasions, -been brought home, within an inch of being run over. I have myself -directed some attention, during the past week, to the art of baking; and -my son Wilkins has issued forth with a walking-stick and driven cattle, -when permitted, by the rugged hirelings who had them in charge, to -render any voluntary service in that direction--which I regret to say, -for the credit of our nature, was not often; he being generally warned, -with imprecations, to desist.' - -'All very right indeed,' said my aunt, encouragingly. 'Mrs. Micawber has -been busy, too, I have no doubt.' - -'My dear madam,' returned Mrs. Micawber, with her business-like air. -'I am free to confess that I have not been actively engaged in pursuits -immediately connected with cultivation or with stock, though well aware -that both will claim my attention on a foreign shore. Such opportunities -as I have been enabled to alienate from my domestic duties, I have -devoted to corresponding at some length with my family. For I own it -seems to me, my dear Mr. Copperfield,' said Mrs. Micawber, who always -fell back on me, I suppose from old habit, to whomsoever else she might -address her discourse at starting, 'that the time is come when the past -should be buried in oblivion; when my family should take Mr. Micawber by -the hand, and Mr. Micawber should take my family by the hand; when the -lion should lie down with the lamb, and my family be on terms with Mr. -Micawber.' - -I said I thought so too. - -'This, at least, is the light, my dear Mr. Copperfield,' pursued Mrs. -Micawber, 'in which I view the subject. When I lived at home with my -papa and mama, my papa was accustomed to ask, when any point was under -discussion in our limited circle, "In what light does my Emma view the -subject?" That my papa was too partial, I know; still, on such a point -as the frigid coldness which has ever subsisted between Mr. Micawber and -my family, I necessarily have formed an opinion, delusive though it may -be.' - -'No doubt. Of course you have, ma'am,' said my aunt. - -'Precisely so,' assented Mrs. Micawber. 'Now, I may be wrong in my -conclusions; it is very likely that I am, but my individual impression -is, that the gulf between my family and Mr. Micawber may be traced to an -apprehension, on the part of my family, that Mr. Micawber would require -pecuniary accommodation. I cannot help thinking,' said Mrs. Micawber, -with an air of deep sagacity, 'that there are members of my family who -have been apprehensive that Mr. Micawber would solicit them for their -names.---I do not mean to be conferred in Baptism upon our children, -but to be inscribed on Bills of Exchange, and negotiated in the Money -Market.' - -The look of penetration with which Mrs. Micawber announced this -discovery, as if no one had ever thought of it before, seemed rather to -astonish my aunt; who abruptly replied, 'Well, ma'am, upon the whole, I -shouldn't wonder if you were right!' - -'Mr. Micawber being now on the eve of casting off the pecuniary -shackles that have so long enthralled him,' said Mrs. Micawber, 'and of -commencing a new career in a country where there is sufficient range -for his abilities,--which, in my opinion, is exceedingly important; Mr. -Micawber's abilities peculiarly requiring space,--it seems to me that -my family should signalize the occasion by coming forward. What I could -wish to see, would be a meeting between Mr. Micawber and my family at -a festive entertainment, to be given at my family's expense; where Mr. -Micawber's health and prosperity being proposed, by some leading member -of my family, Mr. Micawber might have an opportunity of developing his -views.' - -'My dear,' said Mr. Micawber, with some heat, 'it may be better for me -to state distinctly, at once, that if I were to develop my views to that -assembled group, they would possibly be found of an offensive nature: -my impression being that your family are, in the aggregate, impertinent -Snobs; and, in detail, unmitigated Ruffians.' - -'Micawber,' said Mrs. Micawber, shaking her head, 'no! You have never -understood them, and they have never understood you.' - -Mr. Micawber coughed. - -'They have never understood you, Micawber,' said his wife. 'They may -be incapable of it. If so, that is their misfortune. I can pity their -misfortune.' - -'I am extremely sorry, my dear Emma,' said Mr. Micawber, relenting, 'to -have been betrayed into any expressions that might, even remotely, have -the appearance of being strong expressions. All I would say is, that -I can go abroad without your family coming forward to favour me,--in -short, with a parting Shove of their cold shoulders; and that, upon the -whole, I would rather leave England with such impetus as I possess, than -derive any acceleration of it from that quarter. At the same time, my -dear, if they should condescend to reply to your communications--which -our joint experience renders most improbable--far be it from me to be a -barrier to your wishes.' - -The matter being thus amicably settled, Mr. Micawber gave Mrs. Micawber -his arm, and glancing at the heap of books and papers lying before -Traddles on the table, said they would leave us to ourselves; which they -ceremoniously did. - -'My dear Copperfield,' said Traddles, leaning back in his chair when -they were gone, and looking at me with an affection that made his eyes -red, and his hair all kinds of shapes, 'I don't make any excuse for -troubling you with business, because I know you are deeply interested -in it, and it may divert your thoughts. My dear boy, I hope you are not -worn out?' - -'I am quite myself,' said I, after a pause. 'We have more cause to think -of my aunt than of anyone. You know how much she has done.' - -'Surely, surely,' answered Traddles. 'Who can forget it!' - -'But even that is not all,' said I. 'During the last fortnight, some new -trouble has vexed her; and she has been in and out of London every day. -Several times she has gone out early, and been absent until evening. -Last night, Traddles, with this journey before her, it was almost -midnight before she came home. You know what her consideration for -others is. She will not tell me what has happened to distress her.' - -My aunt, very pale, and with deep lines in her face, sat immovable until -I had finished; when some stray tears found their way to her cheeks, and -she put her hand on mine. - -'It's nothing, Trot; it's nothing. There will be no more of it. You -shall know by and by. Now Agnes, my dear, let us attend to these -affairs.' - -'I must do Mr. Micawber the justice to say,' Traddles began, 'that -although he would appear not to have worked to any good account for -himself, he is a most untiring man when he works for other people. I -never saw such a fellow. If he always goes on in the same way, he must -be, virtually, about two hundred years old, at present. The heat into -which he has been continually putting himself; and the distracted and -impetuous manner in which he has been diving, day and night, among -papers and books; to say nothing of the immense number of letters he has -written me between this house and Mr. Wickfield's, and often across the -table when he has been sitting opposite, and might much more easily have -spoken; is quite extraordinary.' - -'Letters!' cried my aunt. 'I believe he dreams in letters!' - -'There's Mr. Dick, too,' said Traddles, 'has been doing wonders! As soon -as he was released from overlooking Uriah Heep, whom he kept in such -charge as I never saw exceeded, he began to devote himself to Mr. -Wickfield. And really his anxiety to be of use in the investigations we -have been making, and his real usefulness in extracting, and copying, -and fetching, and carrying, have been quite stimulating to us.' - -'Dick is a very remarkable man,' exclaimed my aunt; 'and I always said -he was. Trot, you know it.' - -'I am happy to say, Miss Wickfield,' pursued Traddles, at once with -great delicacy and with great earnestness, 'that in your absence Mr. -Wickfield has considerably improved. Relieved of the incubus that had -fastened upon him for so long a time, and of the dreadful apprehensions -under which he had lived, he is hardly the same person. At times, -even his impaired power of concentrating his memory and attention on -particular points of business, has recovered itself very much; and he -has been able to assist us in making some things clear, that we should -have found very difficult indeed, if not hopeless, without him. But -what I have to do is to come to results; which are short enough; not -to gossip on all the hopeful circumstances I have observed, or I shall -never have done.' His natural manner and agreeable simplicity made it -transparent that he said this to put us in good heart, and to enable -Agnes to hear her father mentioned with greater confidence; but it was -not the less pleasant for that. - -'Now, let me see,' said Traddles, looking among the papers on the -table. 'Having counted our funds, and reduced to order a great mass of -unintentional confusion in the first place, and of wilful confusion and -falsification in the second, we take it to be clear that Mr. Wickfield -might now wind up his business, and his agency-trust, and exhibit no -deficiency or defalcation whatever.' - -'Oh, thank Heaven!' cried Agnes, fervently. - -'But,' said Traddles, 'the surplus that would be left as his means of -support--and I suppose the house to be sold, even in saying this--would -be so small, not exceeding in all probability some hundreds of pounds, -that perhaps, Miss Wickfield, it would be best to consider whether he -might not retain his agency of the estate to which he has so long been -receiver. His friends might advise him, you know; now he is free. You -yourself, Miss Wickfield--Copperfield--I--' - -'I have considered it, Trotwood,' said Agnes, looking to me, 'and I feel -that it ought not to be, and must not be; even on the recommendation of -a friend to whom I am so grateful, and owe so much.' - -'I will not say that I recommend it,' observed Traddles. 'I think it -right to suggest it. No more.' - -'I am happy to hear you say so,' answered Agnes, steadily, 'for it gives -me hope, almost assurance, that we think alike. Dear Mr. Traddles and -dear Trotwood, papa once free with honour, what could I wish for! I have -always aspired, if I could have released him from the toils in which he -was held, to render back some little portion of the love and care I owe -him, and to devote my life to him. It has been, for years, the utmost -height of my hopes. To take our future on myself, will be the next -great happiness--the next to his release from all trust and -responsibility--that I can know.' - -'Have you thought how, Agnes?' - -'Often! I am not afraid, dear Trotwood. I am certain of success. So many -people know me here, and think kindly of me, that I am certain. Don't -mistrust me. Our wants are not many. If I rent the dear old house, and -keep a school, I shall be useful and happy.' - -The calm fervour of her cheerful voice brought back so vividly, first -the dear old house itself, and then my solitary home, that my heart was -too full for speech. Traddles pretended for a little while to be busily -looking among the papers. - -'Next, Miss Trotwood,' said Traddles, 'that property of yours.' - -'Well, sir,' sighed my aunt. 'All I have got to say about it is, that if -it's gone, I can bear it; and if it's not gone, I shall be glad to get -it back.' - -'It was originally, I think, eight thousand pounds, Consols?' said -Traddles. - -'Right!' replied my aunt. - -'I can't account for more than five,' said Traddles, with an air of -perplexity. - -'--thousand, do you mean?' inquired my aunt, with uncommon composure, -'or pounds?' - -'Five thousand pounds,' said Traddles. - -'It was all there was,' returned my aunt. 'I sold three, myself. One, I -paid for your articles, Trot, my dear; and the other two I have by me. -When I lost the rest, I thought it wise to say nothing about that sum, -but to keep it secretly for a rainy day. I wanted to see how you would -come out of the trial, Trot; and you came out nobly--persevering, -self-reliant, self-denying! So did Dick. Don't speak to me, for I find -my nerves a little shaken!' - -Nobody would have thought so, to see her sitting upright, with her arms -folded; but she had wonderful self-command. - -'Then I am delighted to say,' cried Traddles, beaming with joy, 'that we -have recovered the whole money!' - -'Don't congratulate me, anybody!' exclaimed my aunt. 'How so, sir?' - -'You believed it had been misappropriated by Mr. Wickfield?' said -Traddles. - -'Of course I did,' said my aunt, 'and was therefore easily silenced. -Agnes, not a word!' - -'And indeed,' said Traddles, 'it was sold, by virtue of the power of -management he held from you; but I needn't say by whom sold, or on whose -actual signature. It was afterwards pretended to Mr. Wickfield, by that -rascal,--and proved, too, by figures,--that he had possessed himself of -the money (on general instructions, he said) to keep other deficiencies -and difficulties from the light. Mr. Wickfield, being so weak and -helpless in his hands as to pay you, afterwards, several sums of -interest on a pretended principal which he knew did not exist, made -himself, unhappily, a party to the fraud.' - -'And at last took the blame upon himself,' added my aunt; 'and wrote me -a mad letter, charging himself with robbery, and wrong unheard of. Upon -which I paid him a visit early one morning, called for a candle, burnt -the letter, and told him if he ever could right me and himself, to -do it; and if he couldn't, to keep his own counsel for his daughter's -sake.---If anybody speaks to me, I'll leave the house!' - -We all remained quiet; Agnes covering her face. - -'Well, my dear friend,' said my aunt, after a pause, 'and you have -really extorted the money back from him?' - -'Why, the fact is,' returned Traddles, 'Mr. Micawber had so completely -hemmed him in, and was always ready with so many new points if an -old one failed, that he could not escape from us. A most remarkable -circumstance is, that I really don't think he grasped this sum even so -much for the gratification of his avarice, which was inordinate, as in -the hatred he felt for Copperfield. He said so to me, plainly. He said -he would even have spent as much, to baulk or injure Copperfield.' - -'Ha!' said my aunt, knitting her brows thoughtfully, and glancing at -Agnes. 'And what's become of him?' - -'I don't know. He left here,' said Traddles, 'with his mother, who had -been clamouring, and beseeching, and disclosing, the whole time. They -went away by one of the London night coaches, and I know no more about -him; except that his malevolence to me at parting was audacious. He -seemed to consider himself hardly less indebted to me, than to Mr. -Micawber; which I consider (as I told him) quite a compliment.' - -'Do you suppose he has any money, Traddles?' I asked. - -'Oh dear, yes, I should think so,' he replied, shaking his head, -seriously. 'I should say he must have pocketed a good deal, in one -way or other. But, I think you would find, Copperfield, if you had an -opportunity of observing his course, that money would never keep that -man out of mischief. He is such an incarnate hypocrite, that whatever -object he pursues, he must pursue crookedly. It's his only compensation -for the outward restraints he puts upon himself. Always creeping along -the ground to some small end or other, he will always magnify every -object in the way; and consequently will hate and suspect everybody that -comes, in the most innocent manner, between him and it. So the crooked -courses will become crookeder, at any moment, for the least reason, -or for none. It's only necessary to consider his history here,' said -Traddles, 'to know that.' - -'He's a monster of meanness!' said my aunt. - -'Really I don't know about that,' observed Traddles thoughtfully. 'Many -people can be very mean, when they give their minds to it.' - -'And now, touching Mr. Micawber,' said my aunt. - -'Well, really,' said Traddles, cheerfully, 'I must, once more, give Mr. -Micawber high praise. But for his having been so patient and persevering -for so long a time, we never could have hoped to do anything worth -speaking of. And I think we ought to consider that Mr. Micawber did -right, for right's sake, when we reflect what terms he might have made -with Uriah Heep himself, for his silence.' - -'I think so too,' said I. - -'Now, what would you give him?' inquired my aunt. - -'Oh! Before you come to that,' said Traddles, a little disconcerted, -'I am afraid I thought it discreet to omit (not being able to carry -everything before me) two points, in making this lawless adjustment--for -it's perfectly lawless from beginning to end--of a difficult affair. -Those I.O.U.'s, and so forth, which Mr. Micawber gave him for the -advances he had--' - -'Well! They must be paid,' said my aunt. - -'Yes, but I don't know when they may be proceeded on, or where they -are,' rejoined Traddles, opening his eyes; 'and I anticipate, that, -between this time and his departure, Mr. Micawber will be constantly -arrested, or taken in execution.' - -'Then he must be constantly set free again, and taken out of execution,' -said my aunt. 'What's the amount altogether?' - -'Why, Mr. Micawber has entered the transactions--he calls them -transactions--with great form, in a book,' rejoined Traddles, smiling; -'and he makes the amount a hundred and three pounds, five.' - -'Now, what shall we give him, that sum included?' said my aunt. 'Agnes, -my dear, you and I can talk about division of it afterwards. What should -it be? Five hundred pounds?' - -Upon this, Traddles and I both struck in at once. We both recommended -a small sum in money, and the payment, without stipulation to Mr. -Micawber, of the Uriah claims as they came in. We proposed that the -family should have their passage and their outfit, and a hundred pounds; -and that Mr. Micawber's arrangement for the repayment of the advances -should be gravely entered into, as it might be wholesome for him -to suppose himself under that responsibility. To this, I added the -suggestion, that I should give some explanation of his character and -history to Mr. Peggotty, who I knew could be relied on; and that to Mr. -Peggotty should be quietly entrusted the discretion of advancing another -hundred. I further proposed to interest Mr. Micawber in Mr. Peggotty, -by confiding so much of Mr. Peggotty's story to him as I might feel -justified in relating, or might think expedient; and to endeavour to -bring each of them to bear upon the other, for the common advantage. We -all entered warmly into these views; and I may mention at once, that the -principals themselves did so, shortly afterwards, with perfect good will -and harmony. - -Seeing that Traddles now glanced anxiously at my aunt again, I reminded -him of the second and last point to which he had adverted. - -'You and your aunt will excuse me, Copperfield, if I touch upon a -painful theme, as I greatly fear I shall,' said Traddles, hesitating; -'but I think it necessary to bring it to your recollection. On the day -of Mr. Micawber's memorable denunciation a threatening allusion was made -by Uriah Heep to your aunt's--husband.' - -My aunt, retaining her stiff position, and apparent composure, assented -with a nod. - -'Perhaps,' observed Traddles, 'it was mere purposeless impertinence?' - -'No,' returned my aunt. - -'There was--pardon me--really such a person, and at all in his power?' -hinted Traddles. - -'Yes, my good friend,' said my aunt. - -Traddles, with a perceptible lengthening of his face, explained that he -had not been able to approach this subject; that it had shared the fate -of Mr. Micawber's liabilities, in not being comprehended in the terms he -had made; that we were no longer of any authority with Uriah Heep; and -that if he could do us, or any of us, any injury or annoyance, no doubt -he would. - -My aunt remained quiet; until again some stray tears found their way to -her cheeks. 'You are quite right,' she said. 'It was very thoughtful to -mention it.' - -'Can I--or Copperfield--do anything?' asked Traddles, gently. - -'Nothing,' said my aunt. 'I thank you many times. Trot, my dear, a vain -threat! Let us have Mr. and Mrs. Micawber back. And don't any of you -speak to me!' With that she smoothed her dress, and sat, with her -upright carriage, looking at the door. - -'Well, Mr. and Mrs. Micawber!' said my aunt, when they entered. 'We have -been discussing your emigration, with many apologies to you for keeping -you out of the room so long; and I'll tell you what arrangements we -propose.' - -These she explained to the unbounded satisfaction of the -family,--children and all being then present,--and so much to the -awakening of Mr. Micawber's punctual habits in the opening stage of -all bill transactions, that he could not be dissuaded from immediately -rushing out, in the highest spirits, to buy the stamps for his notes of -hand. But, his joy received a sudden check; for within five minutes, -he returned in the custody of a sheriff 's officer, informing us, in -a flood of tears, that all was lost. We, being quite prepared for this -event, which was of course a proceeding of Uriah Heep's, soon paid the -money; and in five minutes more Mr. Micawber was seated at the table, -filling up the stamps with an expression of perfect joy, which only -that congenial employment, or the making of punch, could impart in full -completeness to his shining face. To see him at work on the stamps, with -the relish of an artist, touching them like pictures, looking at them -sideways, taking weighty notes of dates and amounts in his pocket-book, -and contemplating them when finished, with a high sense of their -precious value, was a sight indeed. - -'Now, the best thing you can do, sir, if you'll allow me to advise -you,' said my aunt, after silently observing him, 'is to abjure that -occupation for evermore.' - -'Madam,' replied Mr. Micawber, 'it is my intention to register such a -vow on the virgin page of the future. Mrs. Micawber will attest it. I -trust,' said Mr. Micawber, solemnly, 'that my son Wilkins will ever bear -in mind, that he had infinitely better put his fist in the fire, than -use it to handle the serpents that have poisoned the life-blood of his -unhappy parent!' Deeply affected, and changed in a moment to the image -of despair, Mr. Micawber regarded the serpents with a look of gloomy -abhorrence (in which his late admiration of them was not quite subdued), -folded them up and put them in his pocket. - -This closed the proceedings of the evening. We were weary with sorrow -and fatigue, and my aunt and I were to return to London on the morrow. -It was arranged that the Micawbers should follow us, after effecting a -sale of their goods to a broker; that Mr. Wickfield's affairs should be -brought to a settlement, with all convenient speed, under the direction -of Traddles; and that Agnes should also come to London, pending those -arrangements. We passed the night at the old house, which, freed from -the presence of the Heeps, seemed purged of a disease; and I lay in my -old room, like a shipwrecked wanderer come home. - -We went back next day to my aunt's house--not to mine--and when she and -I sat alone, as of old, before going to bed, she said: - -'Trot, do you really wish to know what I have had upon my mind lately?' - -'Indeed I do, aunt. If there ever was a time when I felt unwilling that -you should have a sorrow or anxiety which I could not share, it is now.' - -'You have had sorrow enough, child,' said my aunt, affectionately, -'without the addition of my little miseries. I could have no other -motive, Trot, in keeping anything from you.' - -'I know that well,' said I. 'But tell me now.' - -'Would you ride with me a little way tomorrow morning?' asked my aunt. - -'Of course.' - -'At nine,' said she. 'I'll tell you then, my dear.' - -At nine, accordingly, we went out in a little chariot, and drove to -London. We drove a long way through the streets, until we came to one of -the large hospitals. Standing hard by the building was a plain hearse. -The driver recognized my aunt, and, in obedience to a motion of her hand -at the window, drove slowly off; we following. - -'You understand it now, Trot,' said my aunt. 'He is gone!' - -'Did he die in the hospital?' - -'Yes.' - -She sat immovable beside me; but, again I saw the stray tears on her -face. - -'He was there once before,' said my aunt presently. 'He was ailing a -long time--a shattered, broken man, these many years. When he knew his -state in this last illness, he asked them to send for me. He was sorry -then. Very sorry.' - -'You went, I know, aunt.' - -'I went. I was with him a good deal afterwards.' - -'He died the night before we went to Canterbury?' said I. My aunt -nodded. 'No one can harm him now,' she said. 'It was a vain threat.' - -We drove away, out of town, to the churchyard at Hornsey. 'Better here -than in the streets,' said my aunt. 'He was born here.' - -We alighted; and followed the plain coffin to a corner I remember well, -where the service was read consigning it to the dust. - -'Six-and-thirty years ago, this day, my dear,' said my aunt, as we -walked back to the chariot, 'I was married. God forgive us all!' We took -our seats in silence; and so she sat beside me for a long time, holding -my hand. At length she suddenly burst into tears, and said: - -'He was a fine-looking man when I married him, Trot--and he was sadly -changed!' - -It did not last long. After the relief of tears, she soon became -composed, and even cheerful. Her nerves were a little shaken, she said, -or she would not have given way to it. God forgive us all! - -So we rode back to her little cottage at Highgate, where we found the -following short note, which had arrived by that morning's post from Mr. -Micawber: - - - 'Canterbury, - - 'Friday. - -'My dear Madam, and Copperfield, - -'The fair land of promise lately looming on the horizon is again -enveloped in impenetrable mists, and for ever withdrawn from the eyes of -a drifting wretch whose Doom is sealed! - -'Another writ has been issued (in His Majesty's High Court of King's -Bench at Westminster), in another cause of HEEP V. MICAWBER, and -the defendant in that cause is the prey of the sheriff having legal -jurisdiction in this bailiwick. - - 'Now's the day, and now's the hour, - See the front of battle lower, - See approach proud EDWARD'S power-- - Chains and slavery! - -'Consigned to which, and to a speedy end (for mental torture is not -supportable beyond a certain point, and that point I feel I have -attained), my course is run. Bless you, bless you! Some future -traveller, visiting, from motives of curiosity, not unmingled, let us -hope, with sympathy, the place of confinement allotted to debtors in -this city, may, and I trust will, Ponder, as he traces on its wall, -inscribed with a rusty nail, - - 'The obscure initials, - - 'W. M. - -'P.S. I re-open this to say that our common friend, Mr. Thomas Traddles -(who has not yet left us, and is looking extremely well), has paid the -debt and costs, in the noble name of Miss Trotwood; and that myself and -family are at the height of earthly bliss.' - - - -CHAPTER 55. TEMPEST - - -I now approach an event in my life, so indelible, so awful, so bound by -an infinite variety of ties to all that has preceded it, in these pages, -that, from the beginning of my narrative, I have seen it growing larger -and larger as I advanced, like a great tower in a plain, and throwing -its fore-cast shadow even on the incidents of my childish days. - -For years after it occurred, I dreamed of it often. I have started up so -vividly impressed by it, that its fury has yet seemed raging in my quiet -room, in the still night. I dream of it sometimes, though at lengthened -and uncertain intervals, to this hour. I have an association between it -and a stormy wind, or the lightest mention of a sea-shore, as strong as -any of which my mind is conscious. As plainly as I behold what happened, -I will try to write it down. I do not recall it, but see it done; for it -happens again before me. - -The time drawing on rapidly for the sailing of the emigrant-ship, my -good old nurse (almost broken-hearted for me, when we first met) came up -to London. I was constantly with her, and her brother, and the Micawbers -(they being very much together); but Emily I never saw. - -One evening when the time was close at hand, I was alone with Peggotty -and her brother. Our conversation turned on Ham. She described to us how -tenderly he had taken leave of her, and how manfully and quietly he -had borne himself. Most of all, of late, when she believed he was most -tried. It was a subject of which the affectionate creature never tired; -and our interest in hearing the many examples which she, who was so much -with him, had to relate, was equal to hers in relating them. - -My aunt and I were at that time vacating the two cottages at Highgate; I -intending to go abroad, and she to return to her house at Dover. We had -a temporary lodging in Covent Garden. As I walked home to it, after this -evening's conversation, reflecting on what had passed between Ham and -myself when I was last at Yarmouth, I wavered in the original purpose -I had formed, of leaving a letter for Emily when I should take leave of -her uncle on board the ship, and thought it would be better to write to -her now. She might desire, I thought, after receiving my communication, -to send some parting word by me to her unhappy lover. I ought to give -her the opportunity. - -I therefore sat down in my room, before going to bed, and wrote to her. -I told her that I had seen him, and that he had requested me to tell her -what I have already written in its place in these sheets. I faithfully -repeated it. I had no need to enlarge upon it, if I had had the right. -Its deep fidelity and goodness were not to be adorned by me or any -man. I left it out, to be sent round in the morning; with a line to Mr. -Peggotty, requesting him to give it to her; and went to bed at daybreak. - -I was weaker than I knew then; and, not falling asleep until the sun -was up, lay late, and unrefreshed, next day. I was roused by the silent -presence of my aunt at my bedside. I felt it in my sleep, as I suppose -we all do feel such things. - -'Trot, my dear,' she said, when I opened my eyes, 'I couldn't make up my -mind to disturb you. Mr. Peggotty is here; shall he come up?' - -I replied yes, and he soon appeared. - -'Mas'r Davy,' he said, when we had shaken hands, 'I giv Em'ly your -letter, sir, and she writ this heer; and begged of me fur to ask you -to read it, and if you see no hurt in't, to be so kind as take charge -on't.' - -'Have you read it?' said I. - -He nodded sorrowfully. I opened it, and read as follows: - - -'I have got your message. Oh, what can I write, to thank you for your -good and blessed kindness to me! - -'I have put the words close to my heart. I shall keep them till I die. -They are sharp thorns, but they are such comfort. I have prayed over -them, oh, I have prayed so much. When I find what you are, and what -uncle is, I think what God must be, and can cry to him. - -'Good-bye for ever. Now, my dear, my friend, good-bye for ever in this -world. In another world, if I am forgiven, I may wake a child and come -to you. All thanks and blessings. Farewell, evermore.' - - -This, blotted with tears, was the letter. - -'May I tell her as you doen't see no hurt in't, and as you'll be so kind -as take charge on't, Mas'r Davy?' said Mr. Peggotty, when I had read it. -'Unquestionably,' said I--'but I am thinking--' - -'Yes, Mas'r Davy?' - -'I am thinking,' said I, 'that I'll go down again to Yarmouth. There's -time, and to spare, for me to go and come back before the ship sails. My -mind is constantly running on him, in his solitude; to put this letter -of her writing in his hand at this time, and to enable you to tell her, -in the moment of parting, that he has got it, will be a kindness to -both of them. I solemnly accepted his commission, dear good fellow, and -cannot discharge it too completely. The journey is nothing to me. I am -restless, and shall be better in motion. I'll go down tonight.' - -Though he anxiously endeavoured to dissuade me, I saw that he was of my -mind; and this, if I had required to be confirmed in my intention, would -have had the effect. He went round to the coach office, at my request, -and took the box-seat for me on the mail. In the evening I started, -by that conveyance, down the road I had traversed under so many -vicissitudes. - -'Don't you think that,' I asked the coachman, in the first stage out of -London, 'a very remarkable sky? I don't remember to have seen one like -it.' - -'Nor I--not equal to it,' he replied. 'That's wind, sir. There'll be -mischief done at sea, I expect, before long.' - -It was a murky confusion--here and there blotted with a colour like the -colour of the smoke from damp fuel--of flying clouds, tossed up into -most remarkable heaps, suggesting greater heights in the clouds than -there were depths below them to the bottom of the deepest hollows in the -earth, through which the wild moon seemed to plunge headlong, as if, in -a dread disturbance of the laws of nature, she had lost her way and were -frightened. There had been a wind all day; and it was rising then, with -an extraordinary great sound. In another hour it had much increased, and -the sky was more overcast, and blew hard. - -But, as the night advanced, the clouds closing in and densely -over-spreading the whole sky, then very dark, it came on to blow, harder -and harder. It still increased, until our horses could scarcely face -the wind. Many times, in the dark part of the night (it was then late in -September, when the nights were not short), the leaders turned about, or -came to a dead stop; and we were often in serious apprehension that the -coach would be blown over. Sweeping gusts of rain came up before this -storm, like showers of steel; and, at those times, when there was any -shelter of trees or lee walls to be got, we were fain to stop, in a -sheer impossibility of continuing the struggle. - -When the day broke, it blew harder and harder. I had been in Yarmouth -when the seamen said it blew great guns, but I had never known the like -of this, or anything approaching to it. We came to Ipswich--very late, -having had to fight every inch of ground since we were ten miles out of -London; and found a cluster of people in the market-place, who had -risen from their beds in the night, fearful of falling chimneys. Some of -these, congregating about the inn-yard while we changed horses, told us -of great sheets of lead having been ripped off a high church-tower, and -flung into a by-street, which they then blocked up. Others had to tell -of country people, coming in from neighbouring villages, who had seen -great trees lying torn out of the earth, and whole ricks scattered about -the roads and fields. Still, there was no abatement in the storm, but it -blew harder. - -As we struggled on, nearer and nearer to the sea, from which this mighty -wind was blowing dead on shore, its force became more and more terrific. -Long before we saw the sea, its spray was on our lips, and showered -salt rain upon us. The water was out, over miles and miles of the flat -country adjacent to Yarmouth; and every sheet and puddle lashed its -banks, and had its stress of little breakers setting heavily towards us. -When we came within sight of the sea, the waves on the horizon, caught -at intervals above the rolling abyss, were like glimpses of another -shore with towers and buildings. When at last we got into the town, the -people came out to their doors, all aslant, and with streaming hair, -making a wonder of the mail that had come through such a night. - -I put up at the old inn, and went down to look at the sea; staggering -along the street, which was strewn with sand and seaweed, and with -flying blotches of sea-foam; afraid of falling slates and tiles; and -holding by people I met, at angry corners. Coming near the beach, I saw, -not only the boatmen, but half the people of the town, lurking behind -buildings; some, now and then braving the fury of the storm to look -away to sea, and blown sheer out of their course in trying to get zigzag -back. - -Joining these groups, I found bewailing women whose husbands were away -in herring or oyster boats, which there was too much reason to think -might have foundered before they could run in anywhere for safety. -Grizzled old sailors were among the people, shaking their heads, as they -looked from water to sky, and muttering to one another; ship-owners, -excited and uneasy; children, huddling together, and peering into older -faces; even stout mariners, disturbed and anxious, levelling their -glasses at the sea from behind places of shelter, as if they were -surveying an enemy. - -The tremendous sea itself, when I could find sufficient pause to look at -it, in the agitation of the blinding wind, the flying stones and sand, -and the awful noise, confounded me. As the high watery walls came -rolling in, and, at their highest, tumbled into surf, they looked as if -the least would engulf the town. As the receding wave swept back with a -hoarse roar, it seemed to scoop out deep caves in the beach, as if its -purpose were to undermine the earth. When some white-headed billows -thundered on, and dashed themselves to pieces before they reached the -land, every fragment of the late whole seemed possessed by the full -might of its wrath, rushing to be gathered to the composition of another -monster. Undulating hills were changed to valleys, undulating valleys -(with a solitary storm-bird sometimes skimming through them) were lifted -up to hills; masses of water shivered and shook the beach with a booming -sound; every shape tumultuously rolled on, as soon as made, to change -its shape and place, and beat another shape and place away; the ideal -shore on the horizon, with its towers and buildings, rose and fell; the -clouds fell fast and thick; I seemed to see a rending and upheaving of -all nature. - -Not finding Ham among the people whom this memorable wind--for it is -still remembered down there, as the greatest ever known to blow upon -that coast--had brought together, I made my way to his house. It was -shut; and as no one answered to my knocking, I went, by back ways and -by-lanes, to the yard where he worked. I learned, there, that he had -gone to Lowestoft, to meet some sudden exigency of ship-repairing -in which his skill was required; but that he would be back tomorrow -morning, in good time. - -I went back to the inn; and when I had washed and dressed, and tried to -sleep, but in vain, it was five o'clock in the afternoon. I had not sat -five minutes by the coffee-room fire, when the waiter, coming to stir -it, as an excuse for talking, told me that two colliers had gone down, -with all hands, a few miles away; and that some other ships had been -seen labouring hard in the Roads, and trying, in great distress, to keep -off shore. Mercy on them, and on all poor sailors, said he, if we had -another night like the last! - -I was very much depressed in spirits; very solitary; and felt an -uneasiness in Ham's not being there, disproportionate to the occasion. I -was seriously affected, without knowing how much, by late events; and my -long exposure to the fierce wind had confused me. There was that jumble -in my thoughts and recollections, that I had lost the clear arrangement -of time and distance. Thus, if I had gone out into the town, I should -not have been surprised, I think, to encounter someone who I knew must -be then in London. So to speak, there was in these respects a curious -inattention in my mind. Yet it was busy, too, with all the remembrances -the place naturally awakened; and they were particularly distinct and -vivid. - -In this state, the waiter's dismal intelligence about the ships -immediately connected itself, without any effort of my volition, with my -uneasiness about Ham. I was persuaded that I had an apprehension of his -returning from Lowestoft by sea, and being lost. This grew so strong -with me, that I resolved to go back to the yard before I took my dinner, -and ask the boat-builder if he thought his attempting to return by sea -at all likely? If he gave me the least reason to think so, I would go -over to Lowestoft and prevent it by bringing him with me. - -I hastily ordered my dinner, and went back to the yard. I was none too -soon; for the boat-builder, with a lantern in his hand, was locking -the yard-gate. He quite laughed when I asked him the question, and said -there was no fear; no man in his senses, or out of them, would put off -in such a gale of wind, least of all Ham Peggotty, who had been born to -seafaring. - -So sensible of this, beforehand, that I had really felt ashamed of doing -what I was nevertheless impelled to do, I went back to the inn. If -such a wind could rise, I think it was rising. The howl and roar, the -rattling of the doors and windows, the rumbling in the chimneys, the -apparent rocking of the very house that sheltered me, and the prodigious -tumult of the sea, were more fearful than in the morning. But there -was now a great darkness besides; and that invested the storm with new -terrors, real and fanciful. - -I could not eat, I could not sit still, I could not continue steadfast -to anything. Something within me, faintly answering to the storm -without, tossed up the depths of my memory and made a tumult in them. -Yet, in all the hurry of my thoughts, wild running with the thundering -sea,--the storm, and my uneasiness regarding Ham were always in the -fore-ground. - -My dinner went away almost untasted, and I tried to refresh myself with -a glass or two of wine. In vain. I fell into a dull slumber before -the fire, without losing my consciousness, either of the uproar out of -doors, or of the place in which I was. Both became overshadowed by a new -and indefinable horror; and when I awoke--or rather when I shook off -the lethargy that bound me in my chair--my whole frame thrilled with -objectless and unintelligible fear. - -I walked to and fro, tried to read an old gazetteer, listened to the -awful noises: looked at faces, scenes, and figures in the fire. -At length, the steady ticking of the undisturbed clock on the wall -tormented me to that degree that I resolved to go to bed. - -It was reassuring, on such a night, to be told that some of the -inn-servants had agreed together to sit up until morning. I went to bed, -exceedingly weary and heavy; but, on my lying down, all such sensations -vanished, as if by magic, and I was broad awake, with every sense -refined. - -For hours I lay there, listening to the wind and water; imagining, now, -that I heard shrieks out at sea; now, that I distinctly heard the firing -of signal guns; and now, the fall of houses in the town. I got up, -several times, and looked out; but could see nothing, except the -reflection in the window-panes of the faint candle I had left burning, -and of my own haggard face looking in at me from the black void. - -At length, my restlessness attained to such a pitch, that I hurried on -my clothes, and went downstairs. In the large kitchen, where I dimly -saw bacon and ropes of onions hanging from the beams, the watchers were -clustered together, in various attitudes, about a table, purposely moved -away from the great chimney, and brought near the door. A pretty girl, -who had her ears stopped with her apron, and her eyes upon the door, -screamed when I appeared, supposing me to be a spirit; but the others -had more presence of mind, and were glad of an addition to their -company. One man, referring to the topic they had been discussing, asked -me whether I thought the souls of the collier-crews who had gone down, -were out in the storm? - -I remained there, I dare say, two hours. Once, I opened the yard-gate, -and looked into the empty street. The sand, the sea-weed, and the flakes -of foam, were driving by; and I was obliged to call for assistance -before I could shut the gate again, and make it fast against the wind. - -There was a dark gloom in my solitary chamber, when I at length returned -to it; but I was tired now, and, getting into bed again, fell--off -a tower and down a precipice--into the depths of sleep. I have an -impression that for a long time, though I dreamed of being elsewhere and -in a variety of scenes, it was always blowing in my dream. At length, -I lost that feeble hold upon reality, and was engaged with two dear -friends, but who they were I don't know, at the siege of some town in a -roar of cannonading. - -The thunder of the cannon was so loud and incessant, that I could not -hear something I much desired to hear, until I made a great exertion -and awoke. It was broad day--eight or nine o'clock; the storm raging, in -lieu of the batteries; and someone knocking and calling at my door. - -'What is the matter?' I cried. - -'A wreck! Close by!' - -I sprung out of bed, and asked, what wreck? - -'A schooner, from Spain or Portugal, laden with fruit and wine. Make -haste, sir, if you want to see her! It's thought, down on the beach, -she'll go to pieces every moment.' - -The excited voice went clamouring along the staircase; and I wrapped -myself in my clothes as quickly as I could, and ran into the street. - -Numbers of people were there before me, all running in one direction, to -the beach. I ran the same way, outstripping a good many, and soon came -facing the wild sea. - -The wind might by this time have lulled a little, though not more -sensibly than if the cannonading I had dreamed of, had been diminished -by the silencing of half-a-dozen guns out of hundreds. But the sea, -having upon it the additional agitation of the whole night, was -infinitely more terrific than when I had seen it last. Every appearance -it had then presented, bore the expression of being swelled; and the -height to which the breakers rose, and, looking over one another, -bore one another down, and rolled in, in interminable hosts, was most -appalling. In the difficulty of hearing anything but wind and waves, -and in the crowd, and the unspeakable confusion, and my first breathless -efforts to stand against the weather, I was so confused that I looked -out to sea for the wreck, and saw nothing but the foaming heads of the -great waves. A half-dressed boatman, standing next me, pointed with his -bare arm (a tattoo'd arrow on it, pointing in the same direction) to the -left. Then, O great Heaven, I saw it, close in upon us! - -One mast was broken short off, six or eight feet from the deck, and lay -over the side, entangled in a maze of sail and rigging; and all that -ruin, as the ship rolled and beat--which she did without a moment's -pause, and with a violence quite inconceivable--beat the side as if it -would stave it in. Some efforts were even then being made, to cut this -portion of the wreck away; for, as the ship, which was broadside on, -turned towards us in her rolling, I plainly descried her people at -work with axes, especially one active figure with long curling hair, -conspicuous among the rest. But a great cry, which was audible even -above the wind and water, rose from the shore at this moment; the sea, -sweeping over the rolling wreck, made a clean breach, and carried men, -spars, casks, planks, bulwarks, heaps of such toys, into the boiling -surge. - -The second mast was yet standing, with the rags of a rent sail, and -a wild confusion of broken cordage flapping to and fro. The ship had -struck once, the same boatman hoarsely said in my ear, and then lifted -in and struck again. I understood him to add that she was parting -amidships, and I could readily suppose so, for the rolling and beating -were too tremendous for any human work to suffer long. As he spoke, -there was another great cry of pity from the beach; four men arose with -the wreck out of the deep, clinging to the rigging of the remaining -mast; uppermost, the active figure with the curling hair. - -There was a bell on board; and as the ship rolled and dashed, like a -desperate creature driven mad, now showing us the whole sweep of her -deck, as she turned on her beam-ends towards the shore, now nothing but -her keel, as she sprung wildly over and turned towards the sea, the bell -rang; and its sound, the knell of those unhappy men, was borne towards -us on the wind. Again we lost her, and again she rose. Two men were -gone. The agony on the shore increased. Men groaned, and clasped their -hands; women shrieked, and turned away their faces. Some ran wildly -up and down along the beach, crying for help where no help could be. I -found myself one of these, frantically imploring a knot of sailors whom -I knew, not to let those two lost creatures perish before our eyes. - -They were making out to me, in an agitated way--I don't know how, -for the little I could hear I was scarcely composed enough to -understand--that the lifeboat had been bravely manned an hour ago, and -could do nothing; and that as no man would be so desperate as to attempt -to wade off with a rope, and establish a communication with the shore, -there was nothing left to try; when I noticed that some new sensation -moved the people on the beach, and saw them part, and Ham come breaking -through them to the front. - -I ran to him--as well as I know, to repeat my appeal for help. But, -distracted though I was, by a sight so new to me and terrible, the -determination in his face, and his look out to sea--exactly the same -look as I remembered in connexion with the morning after Emily's -flight--awoke me to a knowledge of his danger. I held him back with both -arms; and implored the men with whom I had been speaking, not to listen -to him, not to do murder, not to let him stir from off that sand! - -Another cry arose on shore; and looking to the wreck, we saw the cruel -sail, with blow on blow, beat off the lower of the two men, and fly up -in triumph round the active figure left alone upon the mast. - -Against such a sight, and against such determination as that of the -calmly desperate man who was already accustomed to lead half the people -present, I might as hopefully have entreated the wind. 'Mas'r Davy,' -he said, cheerily grasping me by both hands, 'if my time is come, 'tis -come. If 'tan't, I'll bide it. Lord above bless you, and bless all! -Mates, make me ready! I'm a-going off!' - -I was swept away, but not unkindly, to some distance, where the people -around me made me stay; urging, as I confusedly perceived, that he was -bent on going, with help or without, and that I should endanger the -precautions for his safety by troubling those with whom they rested. I -don't know what I answered, or what they rejoined; but I saw hurry on -the beach, and men running with ropes from a capstan that was there, and -penetrating into a circle of figures that hid him from me. Then, I saw -him standing alone, in a seaman's frock and trousers: a rope in his -hand, or slung to his wrist: another round his body: and several of the -best men holding, at a little distance, to the latter, which he laid out -himself, slack upon the shore, at his feet. - -The wreck, even to my unpractised eye, was breaking up. I saw that she -was parting in the middle, and that the life of the solitary man upon -the mast hung by a thread. Still, he clung to it. He had a singular red -cap on,--not like a sailor's cap, but of a finer colour; and as the few -yielding planks between him and destruction rolled and bulged, and his -anticipative death-knell rung, he was seen by all of us to wave it. I -saw him do it now, and thought I was going distracted, when his action -brought an old remembrance to my mind of a once dear friend. - -Ham watched the sea, standing alone, with the silence of suspended -breath behind him, and the storm before, until there was a great -retiring wave, when, with a backward glance at those who held the rope -which was made fast round his body, he dashed in after it, and in a -moment was buffeting with the water; rising with the hills, falling -with the valleys, lost beneath the foam; then drawn again to land. They -hauled in hastily. - -He was hurt. I saw blood on his face, from where I stood; but he took -no thought of that. He seemed hurriedly to give them some directions for -leaving him more free--or so I judged from the motion of his arm--and -was gone as before. - -And now he made for the wreck, rising with the hills, falling with the -valleys, lost beneath the rugged foam, borne in towards the shore, -borne on towards the ship, striving hard and valiantly. The distance was -nothing, but the power of the sea and wind made the strife deadly. At -length he neared the wreck. He was so near, that with one more of his -vigorous strokes he would be clinging to it,--when a high, green, vast -hill-side of water, moving on shoreward, from beyond the ship, he seemed -to leap up into it with a mighty bound, and the ship was gone! - -Some eddying fragments I saw in the sea, as if a mere cask had been -broken, in running to the spot where they were hauling in. Consternation -was in every face. They drew him to my very feet--insensible--dead. -He was carried to the nearest house; and, no one preventing me now, I -remained near him, busy, while every means of restoration were tried; -but he had been beaten to death by the great wave, and his generous -heart was stilled for ever. - -As I sat beside the bed, when hope was abandoned and all was done, a -fisherman, who had known me when Emily and I were children, and ever -since, whispered my name at the door. - -'Sir,' said he, with tears starting to his weather-beaten face, which, -with his trembling lips, was ashy pale, 'will you come over yonder?' - -The old remembrance that had been recalled to me, was in his look. I -asked him, terror-stricken, leaning on the arm he held out to support -me: - -'Has a body come ashore?' - -He said, 'Yes.' - -'Do I know it?' I asked then. - -He answered nothing. - -But he led me to the shore. And on that part of it where she and I had -looked for shells, two children--on that part of it where some lighter -fragments of the old boat, blown down last night, had been scattered by -the wind--among the ruins of the home he had wronged--I saw him lying -with his head upon his arm, as I had often seen him lie at school. - - - -CHAPTER 56. THE NEW WOUND, AND THE OLD - -No need, O Steerforth, to have said, when we last spoke together, in -that hour which I so little deemed to be our parting-hour--no need to -have said, 'Think of me at my best!' I had done that ever; and could I -change now, looking on this sight! - -They brought a hand-bier, and laid him on it, and covered him with a -flag, and took him up and bore him on towards the houses. All the men -who carried him had known him, and gone sailing with him, and seen him -merry and bold. They carried him through the wild roar, a hush in the -midst of all the tumult; and took him to the cottage where Death was -already. - -But when they set the bier down on the threshold, they looked at one -another, and at me, and whispered. I knew why. They felt as if it were -not right to lay him down in the same quiet room. - -We went into the town, and took our burden to the inn. So soon as I -could at all collect my thoughts, I sent for Joram, and begged him to -provide me a conveyance in which it could be got to London in the night. -I knew that the care of it, and the hard duty of preparing his mother to -receive it, could only rest with me; and I was anxious to discharge that -duty as faithfully as I could. - -I chose the night for the journey, that there might be less curiosity -when I left the town. But, although it was nearly midnight when I came -out of the yard in a chaise, followed by what I had in charge, there -were many people waiting. At intervals, along the town, and even a -little way out upon the road, I saw more: but at length only the bleak -night and the open country were around me, and the ashes of my youthful -friendship. - -Upon a mellow autumn day, about noon, when the ground was perfumed by -fallen leaves, and many more, in beautiful tints of yellow, red, and -brown, yet hung upon the trees, through which the sun was shining, I -arrived at Highgate. I walked the last mile, thinking as I went along of -what I had to do; and left the carriage that had followed me all through -the night, awaiting orders to advance. - -The house, when I came up to it, looked just the same. Not a blind was -raised; no sign of life was in the dull paved court, with its covered -way leading to the disused door. The wind had quite gone down, and -nothing moved. - -I had not, at first, the courage to ring at the gate; and when I did -ring, my errand seemed to me to be expressed in the very sound of the -bell. The little parlour-maid came out, with the key in her hand; and -looking earnestly at me as she unlocked the gate, said: - -'I beg your pardon, sir. Are you ill?' - -'I have been much agitated, and am fatigued.' - -'Is anything the matter, sir?---Mr. James?--' 'Hush!' said I. 'Yes, -something has happened, that I have to break to Mrs. Steerforth. She is -at home?' - -The girl anxiously replied that her mistress was very seldom out now, -even in a carriage; that she kept her room; that she saw no company, but -would see me. Her mistress was up, she said, and Miss Dartle was with -her. What message should she take upstairs? - -Giving her a strict charge to be careful of her manner, and only to -carry in my card and say I waited, I sat down in the drawing-room (which -we had now reached) until she should come back. Its former pleasant air -of occupation was gone, and the shutters were half closed. The harp had -not been used for many and many a day. His picture, as a boy, was -there. The cabinet in which his mother had kept his letters was there. I -wondered if she ever read them now; if she would ever read them more! - -The house was so still that I heard the girl's light step upstairs. On -her return, she brought a message, to the effect that Mrs. Steerforth -was an invalid and could not come down; but that if I would excuse her -being in her chamber, she would be glad to see me. In a few moments I -stood before her. - -She was in his room; not in her own. I felt, of course, that she had -taken to occupy it, in remembrance of him; and that the many tokens -of his old sports and accomplishments, by which she was surrounded, -remained there, just as he had left them, for the same reason. She -murmured, however, even in her reception of me, that she was out of her -own chamber because its aspect was unsuited to her infirmity; and with -her stately look repelled the least suspicion of the truth. - -At her chair, as usual, was Rosa Dartle. From the first moment of -her dark eyes resting on me, I saw she knew I was the bearer of evil -tidings. The scar sprung into view that instant. She withdrew herself -a step behind the chair, to keep her own face out of Mrs. Steerforth's -observation; and scrutinized me with a piercing gaze that never -faltered, never shrunk. - -'I am sorry to observe you are in mourning, sir,' said Mrs. Steerforth. - -'I am unhappily a widower,' said I. - -'You are very young to know so great a loss,' she returned. 'I am -grieved to hear it. I am grieved to hear it. I hope Time will be good to -you.' - -'I hope Time,' said I, looking at her, 'will be good to all of us. -Dear Mrs. Steerforth, we must all trust to that, in our heaviest -misfortunes.' - -The earnestness of my manner, and the tears in my eyes, alarmed her. The -whole course of her thoughts appeared to stop, and change. - -I tried to command my voice in gently saying his name, but it trembled. -She repeated it to herself, two or three times, in a low tone. Then, -addressing me, she said, with enforced calmness: - -'My son is ill.' - -'Very ill.' - -'You have seen him?' - -'I have.' - -'Are you reconciled?' - -I could not say Yes, I could not say No. She slightly turned her head -towards the spot where Rosa Dartle had been standing at her elbow, and -in that moment I said, by the motion of my lips, to Rosa, 'Dead!' - -That Mrs. Steerforth might not be induced to look behind her, and read, -plainly written, what she was not yet prepared to know, I met her look -quickly; but I had seen Rosa Dartle throw her hands up in the air with -vehemence of despair and horror, and then clasp them on her face. - -The handsome lady--so like, oh so like!--regarded me with a fixed look, -and put her hand to her forehead. I besought her to be calm, and prepare -herself to bear what I had to tell; but I should rather have entreated -her to weep, for she sat like a stone figure. - -'When I was last here,' I faltered, 'Miss Dartle told me he was sailing -here and there. The night before last was a dreadful one at sea. If he -were at sea that night, and near a dangerous coast, as it is said he -was; and if the vessel that was seen should really be the ship which--' - -'Rosa!' said Mrs. Steerforth, 'come to me!' - -She came, but with no sympathy or gentleness. Her eyes gleamed like fire -as she confronted his mother, and broke into a frightful laugh. - -'Now,' she said, 'is your pride appeased, you madwoman? Now has he made -atonement to you--with his life! Do you hear?---His life!' - -Mrs. Steerforth, fallen back stiffly in her chair, and making no sound -but a moan, cast her eyes upon her with a wide stare. - -'Aye!' cried Rosa, smiting herself passionately on the breast, 'look at -me! Moan, and groan, and look at me! Look here!' striking the scar, 'at -your dead child's handiwork!' - -The moan the mother uttered, from time to time, went to My heart. Always -the same. Always inarticulate and stifled. Always accompanied with -an incapable motion of the head, but with no change of face. Always -proceeding from a rigid mouth and closed teeth, as if the jaw were -locked and the face frozen up in pain. - -'Do you remember when he did this?' she proceeded. 'Do you remember -when, in his inheritance of your nature, and in your pampering of his -pride and passion, he did this, and disfigured me for life? Look at me, -marked until I die with his high displeasure; and moan and groan for -what you made him!' - -'Miss Dartle,' I entreated her. 'For Heaven's sake--' - -'I WILL speak!' she said, turning on me with her lightning eyes. 'Be -silent, you! Look at me, I say, proud mother of a proud, false son! Moan -for your nurture of him, moan for your corruption of him, moan for your -loss of him, moan for mine!' - -She clenched her hand, and trembled through her spare, worn figure, as -if her passion were killing her by inches. - -'You, resent his self-will!' she exclaimed. 'You, injured by his haughty -temper! You, who opposed to both, when your hair was grey, the qualities -which made both when you gave him birth! YOU, who from his cradle reared -him to be what he was, and stunted what he should have been! Are you -rewarded, now, for your years of trouble?' - -'Oh, Miss Dartle, shame! Oh cruel!' - -'I tell you,' she returned, 'I WILL speak to her. No power on earth -should stop me, while I was standing here! Have I been silent all these -years, and shall I not speak now? I loved him better than you ever loved -him!' turning on her fiercely. 'I could have loved him, and asked no -return. If I had been his wife, I could have been the slave of his -caprices for a word of love a year. I should have been. Who knows it -better than I? You were exacting, proud, punctilious, selfish. My love -would have been devoted--would have trod your paltry whimpering under -foot!' - -With flashing eyes, she stamped upon the ground as if she actually did -it. - -'Look here!' she said, striking the scar again, with a relentless hand. -'When he grew into the better understanding of what he had done, he saw -it, and repented of it! I could sing to him, and talk to him, and show -the ardour that I felt in all he did, and attain with labour to such -knowledge as most interested him; and I attracted him. When he was -freshest and truest, he loved me. Yes, he did! Many a time, when you -were put off with a slight word, he has taken Me to his heart!' - -She said it with a taunting pride in the midst of her frenzy--for it -was little less--yet with an eager remembrance of it, in which the -smouldering embers of a gentler feeling kindled for the moment. - -'I descended--as I might have known I should, but that he fascinated me -with his boyish courtship--into a doll, a trifle for the occupation -of an idle hour, to be dropped, and taken up, and trifled with, as the -inconstant humour took him. When he grew weary, I grew weary. As his -fancy died out, I would no more have tried to strengthen any power I -had, than I would have married him on his being forced to take me for -his wife. We fell away from one another without a word. Perhaps you saw -it, and were not sorry. Since then, I have been a mere disfigured piece -of furniture between you both; having no eyes, no ears, no feelings, -no remembrances. Moan? Moan for what you made him; not for your love. I -tell you that the time was, when I loved him better than you ever did!' - -She stood with her bright angry eyes confronting the wide stare, and the -set face; and softened no more, when the moaning was repeated, than if -the face had been a picture. - -'Miss Dartle,' said I, 'if you can be so obdurate as not to feel for -this afflicted mother--' - -'Who feels for me?' she sharply retorted. 'She has sown this. Let her -moan for the harvest that she reaps today!' - -'And if his faults--' I began. - -'Faults!' she cried, bursting into passionate tears. 'Who dares malign -him? He had a soul worth millions of the friends to whom he stooped!' - -'No one can have loved him better, no one can hold him in dearer -remembrance than I,' I replied. 'I meant to say, if you have no -compassion for his mother; or if his faults--you have been bitter on -them--' - -'It's false,' she cried, tearing her black hair; 'I loved him!' - -'--if his faults cannot,' I went on, 'be banished from your remembrance, -in such an hour; look at that figure, even as one you have never seen -before, and render it some help!' - -All this time, the figure was unchanged, and looked unchangeable. -Motionless, rigid, staring; moaning in the same dumb way from time to -time, with the same helpless motion of the head; but giving no other -sign of life. Miss Dartle suddenly kneeled down before it, and began to -loosen the dress. - -'A curse upon you!' she said, looking round at me, with a mingled -expression of rage and grief. 'It was in an evil hour that you ever came -here! A curse upon you! Go!' - -After passing out of the room, I hurried back to ring the bell, the -sooner to alarm the servants. She had then taken the impassive figure -in her arms, and, still upon her knees, was weeping over it, kissing it, -calling to it, rocking it to and fro upon her bosom like a child, and -trying every tender means to rouse the dormant senses. No longer afraid -of leaving her, I noiselessly turned back again; and alarmed the house -as I went out. - -Later in the day, I returned, and we laid him in his mother's room. She -was just the same, they told me; Miss Dartle never left her; doctors -were in attendance, many things had been tried; but she lay like a -statue, except for the low sound now and then. - -I went through the dreary house, and darkened the windows. The windows -of the chamber where he lay, I darkened last. I lifted up the leaden -hand, and held it to my heart; and all the world seemed death and -silence, broken only by his mother's moaning. - - - -CHAPTER 57. THE EMIGRANTS - - -One thing more, I had to do, before yielding myself to the shock of -these emotions. It was, to conceal what had occurred, from those who -were going away; and to dismiss them on their voyage in happy ignorance. -In this, no time was to be lost. - -I took Mr. Micawber aside that same night, and confided to him the -task of standing between Mr. Peggotty and intelligence of the late -catastrophe. He zealously undertook to do so, and to intercept any -newspaper through which it might, without such precautions, reach him. - -'If it penetrates to him, sir,' said Mr. Micawber, striking himself on -the breast, 'it shall first pass through this body!' - -Mr. Micawber, I must observe, in his adaptation of himself to a new -state of society, had acquired a bold buccaneering air, not absolutely -lawless, but defensive and prompt. One might have supposed him a child -of the wilderness, long accustomed to live out of the confines of -civilization, and about to return to his native wilds. - -He had provided himself, among other things, with a complete suit of -oilskin, and a straw hat with a very low crown, pitched or caulked on -the outside. In this rough clothing, with a common mariner's telescope -under his arm, and a shrewd trick of casting up his eye at the sky -as looking out for dirty weather, he was far more nautical, after his -manner, than Mr. Peggotty. His whole family, if I may so express it, -were cleared for action. I found Mrs. Micawber in the closest and most -uncompromising of bonnets, made fast under the chin; and in a shawl -which tied her up (as I had been tied up, when my aunt first received -me) like a bundle, and was secured behind at the waist, in a strong -knot. Miss Micawber I found made snug for stormy weather, in the same -manner; with nothing superfluous about her. Master Micawber was hardly -visible in a Guernsey shirt, and the shaggiest suit of slops I ever -saw; and the children were done up, like preserved meats, in impervious -cases. Both Mr. Micawber and his eldest son wore their sleeves loosely -turned back at the wrists, as being ready to lend a hand in any -direction, and to 'tumble up', or sing out, 'Yeo--Heave--Yeo!' on the -shortest notice. - -Thus Traddles and I found them at nightfall, assembled on the wooden -steps, at that time known as Hungerford Stairs, watching the departure -of a boat with some of their property on board. I had told Traddles of -the terrible event, and it had greatly shocked him; but there could be -no doubt of the kindness of keeping it a secret, and he had come to help -me in this last service. It was here that I took Mr. Micawber aside, and -received his promise. - -The Micawber family were lodged in a little, dirty, tumble-down -public-house, which in those days was close to the stairs, and whose -protruding wooden rooms overhung the river. The family, as emigrants, -being objects of some interest in and about Hungerford, attracted so -many beholders, that we were glad to take refuge in their room. It was -one of the wooden chambers upstairs, with the tide flowing underneath. -My aunt and Agnes were there, busily making some little extra comforts, -in the way of dress, for the children. Peggotty was quietly assisting, -with the old insensible work-box, yard-measure, and bit of wax-candle -before her, that had now outlived so much. - -It was not easy to answer her inquiries; still less to whisper Mr. -Peggotty, when Mr. Micawber brought him in, that I had given the letter, -and all was well. But I did both, and made them happy. If I showed any -trace of what I felt, my own sorrows were sufficient to account for it. - -'And when does the ship sail, Mr. Micawber?' asked my aunt. - -Mr. Micawber considered it necessary to prepare either my aunt or his -wife, by degrees, and said, sooner than he had expected yesterday. - -'The boat brought you word, I suppose?' said my aunt. - -'It did, ma'am,' he returned. - -'Well?' said my aunt. 'And she sails--' - -'Madam,' he replied, 'I am informed that we must positively be on board -before seven tomorrow morning.' - -'Heyday!' said my aunt, 'that's soon. Is it a sea-going fact, Mr. -Peggotty?' ''Tis so, ma'am. She'll drop down the river with that theer -tide. If Mas'r Davy and my sister comes aboard at Gravesen', arternoon -o' next day, they'll see the last on us.' - -'And that we shall do,' said I, 'be sure!' - -'Until then, and until we are at sea,' observed Mr. Micawber, with a -glance of intelligence at me, 'Mr. Peggotty and myself will constantly -keep a double look-out together, on our goods and chattels. Emma, my -love,' said Mr. Micawber, clearing his throat in his magnificent way, -'my friend Mr. Thomas Traddles is so obliging as to solicit, in my ear, -that he should have the privilege of ordering the ingredients necessary -to the composition of a moderate portion of that Beverage which is -peculiarly associated, in our minds, with the Roast Beef of Old England. -I allude to--in short, Punch. Under ordinary circumstances, I should -scruple to entreat the indulgence of Miss Trotwood and Miss Wickfield, -but-' - -'I can only say for myself,' said my aunt, 'that I will drink all -happiness and success to you, Mr. Micawber, with the utmost pleasure.' - -'And I too!' said Agnes, with a smile. - -Mr. Micawber immediately descended to the bar, where he appeared to be -quite at home; and in due time returned with a steaming jug. I could -not but observe that he had been peeling the lemons with his own -clasp-knife, which, as became the knife of a practical settler, was -about a foot long; and which he wiped, not wholly without ostentation, -on the sleeve of his coat. Mrs. Micawber and the two elder members -of the family I now found to be provided with similar formidable -instruments, while every child had its own wooden spoon attached to its -body by a strong line. In a similar anticipation of life afloat, and in -the Bush, Mr. Micawber, instead of helping Mrs. Micawber and his eldest -son and daughter to punch, in wine-glasses, which he might easily have -done, for there was a shelf-full in the room, served it out to them in a -series of villainous little tin pots; and I never saw him enjoy anything -so much as drinking out of his own particular pint pot, and putting it -in his pocket at the close of the evening. - -'The luxuries of the old country,' said Mr. Micawber, with an intense -satisfaction in their renouncement, 'we abandon. The denizens of the -forest cannot, of course, expect to participate in the refinements of -the land of the Free.' - -Here, a boy came in to say that Mr. Micawber was wanted downstairs. - -'I have a presentiment,' said Mrs. Micawber, setting down her tin pot, -'that it is a member of my family!' - -'If so, my dear,' observed Mr. Micawber, with his usual suddenness of -warmth on that subject, 'as the member of your family--whoever he, she, -or it, may be--has kept us waiting for a considerable period, perhaps -the Member may now wait MY convenience.' - -'Micawber,' said his wife, in a low tone, 'at such a time as this--' - -'"It is not meet,"' said Mr. Micawber, rising, '"that every nice offence -should bear its comment!" Emma, I stand reproved.' - -'The loss, Micawber,' observed his wife, 'has been my family's, not -yours. If my family are at length sensible of the deprivation to which -their own conduct has, in the past, exposed them, and now desire to -extend the hand of fellowship, let it not be repulsed.' - -'My dear,' he returned, 'so be it!' - -'If not for their sakes; for mine, Micawber,' said his wife. - -'Emma,' he returned, 'that view of the question is, at such a moment, -irresistible. I cannot, even now, distinctly pledge myself to fall -upon your family's neck; but the member of your family, who is now in -attendance, shall have no genial warmth frozen by me.' - -Mr. Micawber withdrew, and was absent some little time; in the course of -which Mrs. Micawber was not wholly free from an apprehension that words -might have arisen between him and the Member. At length the same boy -reappeared, and presented me with a note written in pencil, and headed, -in a legal manner, 'Heep v. Micawber'. From this document, I learned -that Mr. Micawber being again arrested, 'Was in a final paroxysm of -despair; and that he begged me to send him his knife and pint pot, by -bearer, as they might prove serviceable during the brief remainder of -his existence, in jail. He also requested, as a last act of friendship, -that I would see his family to the Parish Workhouse, and forget that -such a Being ever lived. - -Of course I answered this note by going down with the boy to pay the -money, where I found Mr. Micawber sitting in a corner, looking darkly at -the Sheriff 's Officer who had effected the capture. On his release, -he embraced me with the utmost fervour; and made an entry of the -transaction in his pocket-book--being very particular, I recollect, -about a halfpenny I inadvertently omitted from my statement of the -total. - -This momentous pocket-book was a timely reminder to him of another -transaction. On our return to the room upstairs (where he accounted for -his absence by saying that it had been occasioned by circumstances over -which he had no control), he took out of it a large sheet of paper, -folded small, and quite covered with long sums, carefully worked. From -the glimpse I had of them, I should say that I never saw such sums -out of a school ciphering-book. These, it seemed, were calculations of -compound interest on what he called 'the principal amount of forty-one, -ten, eleven and a half', for various periods. After a careful -consideration of these, and an elaborate estimate of his resources, -he had come to the conclusion to select that sum which represented the -amount with compound interest to two years, fifteen calendar months, and -fourteen days, from that date. For this he had drawn a note-of-hand -with great neatness, which he handed over to Traddles on the spot, -a discharge of his debt in full (as between man and man), with many -acknowledgements. - -'I have still a presentiment,' said Mrs. Micawber, pensively shaking her -head, 'that my family will appear on board, before we finally depart.' - -Mr. Micawber evidently had his presentiment on the subject too, but he -put it in his tin pot and swallowed it. - -'If you have any opportunity of sending letters home, on your passage, -Mrs. Micawber,' said my aunt, 'you must let us hear from you, you know.' - -'My dear Miss Trotwood,' she replied, 'I shall only be too happy -to think that anyone expects to hear from us. I shall not fail to -correspond. Mr. Copperfield, I trust, as an old and familiar friend, -will not object to receive occasional intelligence, himself, from one -who knew him when the twins were yet unconscious?' - -I said that I should hope to hear, whenever she had an opportunity of -writing. - -'Please Heaven, there will be many such opportunities,' said Mr. -Micawber. 'The ocean, in these times, is a perfect fleet of ships; and -we can hardly fail to encounter many, in running over. It is merely -crossing,' said Mr. Micawber, trifling with his eye-glass, 'merely -crossing. The distance is quite imaginary.' - -I think, now, how odd it was, but how wonderfully like Mr. Micawber, -that, when he went from London to Canterbury, he should have talked as -if he were going to the farthest limits of the earth; and, when he went -from England to Australia, as if he were going for a little trip across -the channel. - -'On the voyage, I shall endeavour,' said Mr. Micawber, 'occasionally -to spin them a yarn; and the melody of my son Wilkins will, I trust, -be acceptable at the galley-fire. When Mrs. Micawber has her -sea-legs on--an expression in which I hope there is no conventional -impropriety--she will give them, I dare say, "Little Tafflin". Porpoises -and dolphins, I believe, will be frequently observed athwart our -Bows; and, either on the starboard or the larboard quarter, objects of -interest will be continually descried. In short,' said Mr. Micawber, -with the old genteel air, 'the probability is, all will be found so -exciting, alow and aloft, that when the lookout, stationed in the -main-top, cries Land-oh! we shall be very considerably astonished!' - -With that he flourished off the contents of his little tin pot, as if he -had made the voyage, and had passed a first-class examination before the -highest naval authorities. - -'What I chiefly hope, my dear Mr. Copperfield,' said Mrs. Micawber, -'is, that in some branches of our family we may live again in the old -country. Do not frown, Micawber! I do not now refer to my own family, -but to our children's children. However vigorous the sapling,' said Mrs. -Micawber, shaking her head, 'I cannot forget the parent-tree; and when -our race attains to eminence and fortune, I own I should wish that -fortune to flow into the coffers of Britannia.' - -'My dear,' said Mr. Micawber, 'Britannia must take her chance. I am -bound to say that she has never done much for me, and that I have no -particular wish upon the subject.' - -'Micawber,' returned Mrs. Micawber, 'there, you are wrong. You are going -out, Micawber, to this distant clime, to strengthen, not to weaken, the -connexion between yourself and Albion.' - -'The connexion in question, my love,' rejoined Mr. Micawber, 'has not -laid me, I repeat, under that load of personal obligation, that I am at -all sensitive as to the formation of another connexion.' - -'Micawber,' returned Mrs. Micawber. 'There, I again say, you are wrong. -You do not know your power, Micawber. It is that which will strengthen, -even in this step you are about to take, the connexion between yourself -and Albion.' - -Mr. Micawber sat in his elbow-chair, with his eyebrows raised; half -receiving and half repudiating Mrs. Micawber's views as they were -stated, but very sensible of their foresight. - -'My dear Mr. Copperfield,' said Mrs. Micawber, 'I wish Mr. Micawber to -feel his position. It appears to me highly important that Mr. Micawber -should, from the hour of his embarkation, feel his position. Your old -knowledge of me, my dear Mr. Copperfield, will have told you that I have -not the sanguine disposition of Mr. Micawber. My disposition is, if I -may say so, eminently practical. I know that this is a long voyage. I -know that it will involve many privations and inconveniences. I cannot -shut my eyes to those facts. But I also know what Mr. Micawber is. -I know the latent power of Mr. Micawber. And therefore I consider it -vitally important that Mr. Micawber should feel his position.' - -'My love,' he observed, 'perhaps you will allow me to remark that it is -barely possible that I DO feel my position at the present moment.' - -'I think not, Micawber,' she rejoined. 'Not fully. My dear Mr. -Copperfield, Mr. Micawber's is not a common case. Mr. Micawber is going -to a distant country expressly in order that he may be fully understood -and appreciated for the first time. I wish Mr. Micawber to take his -stand upon that vessel's prow, and firmly say, "This country I am -come to conquer! Have you honours? Have you riches? Have you posts of -profitable pecuniary emolument? Let them be brought forward. They are -mine!"' - -Mr. Micawber, glancing at us all, seemed to think there was a good deal -in this idea. - -'I wish Mr. Micawber, if I make myself understood,' said Mrs. Micawber, -in her argumentative tone, 'to be the Caesar of his own fortunes. That, -my dear Mr. Copperfield, appears to me to be his true position. From -the first moment of this voyage, I wish Mr. Micawber to stand upon -that vessel's prow and say, "Enough of delay: enough of disappointment: -enough of limited means. That was in the old country. This is the new. -Produce your reparation. Bring it forward!"' - -Mr. Micawber folded his arms in a resolute manner, as if he were then -stationed on the figure-head. - -'And doing that,' said Mrs. Micawber, '--feeling his position--am I not -right in saying that Mr. Micawber will strengthen, and not weaken, his -connexion with Britain? An important public character arising in that -hemisphere, shall I be told that its influence will not be felt at home? -Can I be so weak as to imagine that Mr. Micawber, wielding the rod of -talent and of power in Australia, will be nothing in England? I am but -a woman; but I should be unworthy of myself and of my papa, if I were -guilty of such absurd weakness.' - -Mrs. Micawber's conviction that her arguments were unanswerable, gave -a moral elevation to her tone which I think I had never heard in it -before. - -'And therefore it is,' said Mrs. Micawber, 'that I the more wish, that, -at a future period, we may live again on the parent soil. Mr. Micawber -may be--I cannot disguise from myself that the probability is, Mr. -Micawber will be--a page of History; and he ought then to be represented -in the country which gave him birth, and did NOT give him employment!' - -'My love,' observed Mr. Micawber, 'it is impossible for me not to be -touched by your affection. I am always willing to defer to your good -sense. What will be--will be. Heaven forbid that I should grudge my -native country any portion of the wealth that may be accumulated by our -descendants!' - -'That's well,' said my aunt, nodding towards Mr. Peggotty, 'and I drink -my love to you all, and every blessing and success attend you!' - -Mr. Peggotty put down the two children he had been nursing, one on each -knee, to join Mr. and Mrs. Micawber in drinking to all of us in return; -and when he and the Micawbers cordially shook hands as comrades, and his -brown face brightened with a smile, I felt that he would make his way, -establish a good name, and be beloved, go where he would. - -Even the children were instructed, each to dip a wooden spoon into Mr. -Micawber's pot, and pledge us in its contents. When this was done, my -aunt and Agnes rose, and parted from the emigrants. It was a sorrowful -farewell. They were all crying; the children hung about Agnes to the -last; and we left poor Mrs. Micawber in a very distressed condition, -sobbing and weeping by a dim candle, that must have made the room look, -from the river, like a miserable light-house. - -I went down again next morning to see that they were away. They had -departed, in a boat, as early as five o'clock. It was a wonderful -instance to me of the gap such partings make, that although my -association of them with the tumble-down public-house and the wooden -stairs dated only from last night, both seemed dreary and deserted, now -that they were gone. - -In the afternoon of the next day, my old nurse and I went down to -Gravesend. We found the ship in the river, surrounded by a crowd -of boats; a favourable wind blowing; the signal for sailing at her -mast-head. I hired a boat directly, and we put off to her; and getting -through the little vortex of confusion of which she was the centre, went -on board. - -Mr. Peggotty was waiting for us on deck. He told me that Mr. Micawber -had just now been arrested again (and for the last time) at the suit of -Heep, and that, in compliance with a request I had made to him, he had -paid the money, which I repaid him. He then took us down between decks; -and there, any lingering fears I had of his having heard any rumours of -what had happened, were dispelled by Mr. Micawber's coming out of the -gloom, taking his arm with an air of friendship and protection, and -telling me that they had scarcely been asunder for a moment, since the -night before last. - -It was such a strange scene to me, and so confined and dark, that, at -first, I could make out hardly anything; but, by degrees, it cleared, as -my eyes became more accustomed to the gloom, and I seemed to stand in -a picture by OSTADE. Among the great beams, bulks, and ringbolts of the -ship, and the emigrant-berths, and chests, and bundles, and barrels, and -heaps of miscellaneous baggage--'lighted up, here and there, by dangling -lanterns; and elsewhere by the yellow daylight straying down a windsail -or a hatchway--were crowded groups of people, making new friendships, -taking leave of one another, talking, laughing, crying, eating and -drinking; some, already settled down into the possession of their few -feet of space, with their little households arranged, and tiny children -established on stools, or in dwarf elbow-chairs; others, despairing of -a resting-place, and wandering disconsolately. From babies who had but a -week or two of life behind them, to crooked old men and women who seemed -to have but a week or two of life before them; and from ploughmen bodily -carrying out soil of England on their boots, to smiths taking away -samples of its soot and smoke upon their skins; every age and occupation -appeared to be crammed into the narrow compass of the 'tween decks. - -As my eye glanced round this place, I thought I saw sitting, by an open -port, with one of the Micawber children near her, a figure like Emily's; -it first attracted my attention, by another figure parting from it with -a kiss; and as it glided calmly away through the disorder, reminding -me of--Agnes! But in the rapid motion and confusion, and in the -unsettlement of my own thoughts, I lost it again; and only knew that -the time was come when all visitors were being warned to leave the ship; -that my nurse was crying on a chest beside me; and that Mrs. Gummidge, -assisted by some younger stooping woman in black, was busily arranging -Mr. Peggotty's goods. - -'Is there any last wured, Mas'r Davy?' said he. 'Is there any one -forgotten thing afore we parts?' - -'One thing!' said I. 'Martha!' - -He touched the younger woman I have mentioned on the shoulder, and -Martha stood before me. - -'Heaven bless you, you good man!' cried I. 'You take her with you!' - -She answered for him, with a burst of tears. I could speak no more at -that time, but I wrung his hand; and if ever I have loved and honoured -any man, I loved and honoured that man in my soul. - -The ship was clearing fast of strangers. The greatest trial that I had, -remained. I told him what the noble spirit that was gone, had given me -in charge to say at parting. It moved him deeply. But when he charged -me, in return, with many messages of affection and regret for those deaf -ears, he moved me more. - -The time was come. I embraced him, took my weeping nurse upon my arm, -and hurried away. On deck, I took leave of poor Mrs. Micawber. She was -looking distractedly about for her family, even then; and her last words -to me were, that she never would desert Mr. Micawber. - -We went over the side into our boat, and lay at a little distance, to -see the ship wafted on her course. It was then calm, radiant sunset. -She lay between us, and the red light; and every taper line and spar was -visible against the glow. A sight at once so beautiful, so mournful, and -so hopeful, as the glorious ship, lying, still, on the flushed water, -with all the life on board her crowded at the bulwarks, and there -clustering, for a moment, bare-headed and silent, I never saw. - -Silent, only for a moment. As the sails rose to the wind, and the ship -began to move, there broke from all the boats three resounding cheers, -which those on board took up, and echoed back, and which were echoed -and re-echoed. My heart burst out when I heard the sound, and beheld the -waving of the hats and handkerchiefs--and then I saw her! - -Then I saw her, at her uncle's side, and trembling on his shoulder. He -pointed to us with an eager hand; and she saw us, and waved her last -good-bye to me. Aye, Emily, beautiful and drooping, cling to him with -the utmost trust of thy bruised heart; for he has clung to thee, with -all the might of his great love! - -Surrounded by the rosy light, and standing high upon the deck, apart -together, she clinging to him, and he holding her, they solemnly passed -away. The night had fallen on the Kentish hills when we were rowed -ashore--and fallen darkly upon me. - - - -CHAPTER 58. ABSENCE - - -It was a long and gloomy night that gathered on me, haunted by the -ghosts of many hopes, of many dear remembrances, many errors, many -unavailing sorrows and regrets. - -I went away from England; not knowing, even then, how great the shock -was, that I had to bear. I left all who were dear to me, and went away; -and believed that I had borne it, and it was past. As a man upon a -field of battle will receive a mortal hurt, and scarcely know that he is -struck, so I, when I was left alone with my undisciplined heart, had no -conception of the wound with which it had to strive. - -The knowledge came upon me, not quickly, but little by little, and grain -by grain. The desolate feeling with which I went abroad, deepened -and widened hourly. At first it was a heavy sense of loss and sorrow, -wherein I could distinguish little else. By imperceptible degrees, -it became a hopeless consciousness of all that I had lost--love, -friendship, interest; of all that had been shattered--my first trust, -my first affection, the whole airy castle of my life; of all that -remained--a ruined blank and waste, lying wide around me, unbroken, to -the dark horizon. - -If my grief were selfish, I did not know it to be so. I mourned for my -child-wife, taken from her blooming world, so young. I mourned for him -who might have won the love and admiration of thousands, as he had won -mine long ago. I mourned for the broken heart that had found rest in the -stormy sea; and for the wandering remnants of the simple home, where I -had heard the night-wind blowing, when I was a child. - -From the accumulated sadness into which I fell, I had at length no hope -of ever issuing again. I roamed from place to place, carrying my burden -with me everywhere. I felt its whole weight now; and I drooped beneath -it, and I said in my heart that it could never be lightened. - -When this despondency was at its worst, I believed that I should die. -Sometimes, I thought that I would like to die at home; and actually -turned back on my road, that I might get there soon. At other times, I -passed on farther away,--from city to city, seeking I know not what, and -trying to leave I know not what behind. - -It is not in my power to retrace, one by one, all the weary phases of -distress of mind through which I passed. There are some dreams that can -only be imperfectly and vaguely described; and when I oblige myself to -look back on this time of my life, I seem to be recalling such a dream. -I see myself passing on among the novelties of foreign towns, palaces, -cathedrals, temples, pictures, castles, tombs, fantastic streets--the -old abiding places of History and Fancy--as a dreamer might; bearing my -painful load through all, and hardly conscious of the objects as they -fade before me. Listlessness to everything, but brooding sorrow, was the -night that fell on my undisciplined heart. Let me look up from it--as -at last I did, thank Heaven!--and from its long, sad, wretched dream, to -dawn. - -For many months I travelled with this ever-darkening cloud upon my -mind. Some blind reasons that I had for not returning home--reasons then -struggling within me, vainly, for more distinct expression--kept me -on my pilgrimage. Sometimes, I had proceeded restlessly from place to -place, stopping nowhere; sometimes, I had lingered long in one spot. I -had had no purpose, no sustaining soul within me, anywhere. - -I was in Switzerland. I had come out of Italy, over one of the great -passes of the Alps, and had since wandered with a guide among the -by-ways of the mountains. If those awful solitudes had spoken to my -heart, I did not know it. I had found sublimity and wonder in the dread -heights and precipices, in the roaring torrents, and the wastes of ice -and snow; but as yet, they had taught me nothing else. - -I came, one evening before sunset, down into a valley, where I was to -rest. In the course of my descent to it, by the winding track along -the mountain-side, from which I saw it shining far below, I think some -long-unwonted sense of beauty and tranquillity, some softening influence -awakened by its peace, moved faintly in my breast. I remember pausing -once, with a kind of sorrow that was not all oppressive, not quite -despairing. I remember almost hoping that some better change was -possible within me. - -I came into the valley, as the evening sun was shining on the remote -heights of snow, that closed it in, like eternal clouds. The bases of -the mountains forming the gorge in which the little village lay, were -richly green; and high above this gentler vegetation, grew forests of -dark fir, cleaving the wintry snow-drift, wedge-like, and stemming the -avalanche. Above these, were range upon range of craggy steeps, grey -rock, bright ice, and smooth verdure-specks of pasture, all gradually -blending with the crowning snow. Dotted here and there on the -mountain's-side, each tiny dot a home, were lonely wooden cottages, so -dwarfed by the towering heights that they appeared too small for toys. -So did even the clustered village in the valley, with its wooden bridge -across the stream, where the stream tumbled over broken rocks, and -roared away among the trees. In the quiet air, there was a sound of -distant singing--shepherd voices; but, as one bright evening cloud -floated midway along the mountain's-side, I could almost have believed -it came from there, and was not earthly music. All at once, in this -serenity, great Nature spoke to me; and soothed me to lay down my weary -head upon the grass, and weep as I had not wept yet, since Dora died! - -I had found a packet of letters awaiting me but a few minutes before, -and had strolled out of the village to read them while my supper was -making ready. Other packets had missed me, and I had received none for a -long time. Beyond a line or two, to say that I was well, and had arrived -at such a place, I had not had fortitude or constancy to write a letter -since I left home. - -The packet was in my hand. I opened it, and read the writing of Agnes. - -She was happy and useful, was prospering as she had hoped. That was all -she told me of herself. The rest referred to me. - -She gave me no advice; she urged no duty on me; she only told me, in her -own fervent manner, what her trust in me was. She knew (she said) how -such a nature as mine would turn affliction to good. She knew how trial -and emotion would exalt and strengthen it. She was sure that in my every -purpose I should gain a firmer and a higher tendency, through the grief -I had undergone. She, who so gloried in my fame, and so looked forward -to its augmentation, well knew that I would labour on. She knew that in -me, sorrow could not be weakness, but must be strength. As the endurance -of my childish days had done its part to make me what I was, so greater -calamities would nerve me on, to be yet better than I was; and so, as -they had taught me, would I teach others. She commended me to God, who -had taken my innocent darling to His rest; and in her sisterly affection -cherished me always, and was always at my side go where I would; proud -of what I had done, but infinitely prouder yet of what I was reserved to -do. - -I put the letter in my breast, and thought what had I been an hour ago! -When I heard the voices die away, and saw the quiet evening cloud grow -dim, and all the colours in the valley fade, and the golden snow upon -the mountain-tops become a remote part of the pale night sky, yet felt -that the night was passing from my mind, and all its shadows clearing, -there was no name for the love I bore her, dearer to me, henceforward, -than ever until then. - -I read her letter many times. I wrote to her before I slept. I told her -that I had been in sore need of her help; that without her I was not, -and I never had been, what she thought me; but that she inspired me to -be that, and I would try. - -I did try. In three months more, a year would have passed since the -beginning of my sorrow. I determined to make no resolutions until the -expiration of those three months, but to try. I lived in that valley, -and its neighbourhood, all the time. - -The three months gone, I resolved to remain away from home for some -time longer; to settle myself for the present in Switzerland, which was -growing dear to me in the remembrance of that evening; to resume my pen; -to work. - -I resorted humbly whither Agnes had commended me; I sought out Nature, -never sought in vain; and I admitted to my breast the human interest -I had lately shrunk from. It was not long, before I had almost as many -friends in the valley as in Yarmouth: and when I left it, before the -winter set in, for Geneva, and came back in the spring, their cordial -greetings had a homely sound to me, although they were not conveyed in -English words. - -I worked early and late, patiently and hard. I wrote a Story, with a -purpose growing, not remotely, out of my experience, and sent it to -Traddles, and he arranged for its publication very advantageously for -me; and the tidings of my growing reputation began to reach me from -travellers whom I encountered by chance. After some rest and change, I -fell to work, in my old ardent way, on a new fancy, which took strong -possession of me. As I advanced in the execution of this task, I felt it -more and more, and roused my utmost energies to do it well. This was my -third work of fiction. It was not half written, when, in an interval of -rest, I thought of returning home. - -For a long time, though studying and working patiently, I had accustomed -myself to robust exercise. My health, severely impaired when I left -England, was quite restored. I had seen much. I had been in many -countries, and I hope I had improved my store of knowledge. - -I have now recalled all that I think it needful to recall here, of this -term of absence--with one reservation. I have made it, thus far, with -no purpose of suppressing any of my thoughts; for, as I have elsewhere -said, this narrative is my written memory. I have desired to keep the -most secret current of my mind apart, and to the last. I enter on it -now. I cannot so completely penetrate the mystery of my own heart, as -to know when I began to think that I might have set its earliest and -brightest hopes on Agnes. I cannot say at what stage of my grief -it first became associated with the reflection, that, in my wayward -boyhood, I had thrown away the treasure of her love. I believe I may -have heard some whisper of that distant thought, in the old unhappy loss -or want of something never to be realized, of which I had been sensible. -But the thought came into my mind as a new reproach and new regret, when -I was left so sad and lonely in the world. - -If, at that time, I had been much with her, I should, in the weakness of -my desolation, have betrayed this. It was what I remotely dreaded when I -was first impelled to stay away from England. I could not have borne -to lose the smallest portion of her sisterly affection; yet, in that -betrayal, I should have set a constraint between us hitherto unknown. - -I could not forget that the feeling with which she now regarded me had -grown up in my own free choice and course. That if she had ever loved me -with another love--and I sometimes thought the time was when she might -have done so--I had cast it away. It was nothing, now, that I had -accustomed myself to think of her, when we were both mere children, -as one who was far removed from my wild fancies. I had bestowed my -passionate tenderness upon another object; and what I might have done, -I had not done; and what Agnes was to me, I and her own noble heart had -made her. - -In the beginning of the change that gradually worked in me, when I -tried to get a better understanding of myself and be a better man, I -did glance, through some indefinite probation, to a period when I might -possibly hope to cancel the mistaken past, and to be so blessed as -to marry her. But, as time wore on, this shadowy prospect faded, and -departed from me. If she had ever loved me, then, I should hold her -the more sacred; remembering the confidences I had reposed in her, her -knowledge of my errant heart, the sacrifice she must have made to be my -friend and sister, and the victory she had won. If she had never loved -me, could I believe that she would love me now? - -I had always felt my weakness, in comparison with her constancy and -fortitude; and now I felt it more and more. Whatever I might have been -to her, or she to me, if I had been more worthy of her long ago, I was -not now, and she was not. The time was past. I had let it go by, and had -deservedly lost her. - -That I suffered much in these contentions, that they filled me with -unhappiness and remorse, and yet that I had a sustaining sense that it -was required of me, in right and honour, to keep away from myself, with -shame, the thought of turning to the dear girl in the withering of my -hopes, from whom I had frivolously turned when they were bright and -fresh--which consideration was at the root of every thought I had -concerning her--is all equally true. I made no effort to conceal from -myself, now, that I loved her, that I was devoted to her; but I brought -the assurance home to myself, that it was now too late, and that our -long-subsisting relation must be undisturbed. - -I had thought, much and often, of my Dora's shadowing out to me what -might have happened, in those years that were destined not to try us; -I had considered how the things that never happen, are often as much -realities to us, in their effects, as those that are accomplished. The -very years she spoke of, were realities now, for my correction; and -would have been, one day, a little later perhaps, though we had parted -in our earliest folly. I endeavoured to convert what might have been -between myself and Agnes, into a means of making me more self-denying, -more resolved, more conscious of myself, and my defects and errors. -Thus, through the reflection that it might have been, I arrived at the -conviction that it could never be. - -These, with their perplexities and inconsistencies, were the shifting -quicksands of my mind, from the time of my departure to the time of my -return home, three years afterwards. Three years had elapsed since the -sailing of the emigrant ship; when, at that same hour of sunset, and in -the same place, I stood on the deck of the packet vessel that brought me -home, looking on the rosy water where I had seen the image of that ship -reflected. - -Three years. Long in the aggregate, though short as they went by. And -home was very dear to me, and Agnes too--but she was not mine--she was -never to be mine. She might have been, but that was past! - - - -CHAPTER 59. RETURN - - -I landed in London on a wintry autumn evening. It was dark and raining, -and I saw more fog and mud in a minute than I had seen in a year. I -walked from the Custom House to the Monument before I found a coach; -and although the very house-fronts, looking on the swollen gutters, were -like old friends to me, I could not but admit that they were very dingy -friends. - -I have often remarked--I suppose everybody has--that one's going away -from a familiar place, would seem to be the signal for change in it. -As I looked out of the coach window, and observed that an old house on -Fish-street Hill, which had stood untouched by painter, carpenter, or -bricklayer, for a century, had been pulled down in my absence; and that -a neighbouring street, of time-honoured insalubrity and inconvenience, -was being drained and widened; I half expected to find St. Paul's -Cathedral looking older. - -For some changes in the fortunes of my friends, I was prepared. My aunt -had long been re-established at Dover, and Traddles had begun to get -into some little practice at the Bar, in the very first term after my -departure. He had chambers in Gray's Inn, now; and had told me, in his -last letters, that he was not without hopes of being soon united to the -dearest girl in the world. - -They expected me home before Christmas; but had no idea of my returning -so soon. I had purposely misled them, that I might have the pleasure of -taking them by surprise. And yet, I was perverse enough to feel a chill -and disappointment in receiving no welcome, and rattling, alone and -silent, through the misty streets. - -The well-known shops, however, with their cheerful lights, did something -for me; and when I alighted at the door of the Gray's Inn Coffee-house, -I had recovered my spirits. It recalled, at first, that so-different -time when I had put up at the Golden Cross, and reminded me of the -changes that had come to pass since then; but that was natural. - -'Do you know where Mr. Traddles lives in the Inn?' I asked the waiter, -as I warmed myself by the coffee-room fire. - -'Holborn Court, sir. Number two.' - -'Mr. Traddles has a rising reputation among the lawyers, I believe?' -said I. - -'Well, sir,' returned the waiter, 'probably he has, sir; but I am not -aware of it myself.' - -This waiter, who was middle-aged and spare, looked for help to a waiter -of more authority--a stout, potential old man, with a double chin, -in black breeches and stockings, who came out of a place like a -churchwarden's pew, at the end of the coffee-room, where he kept company -with a cash-box, a Directory, a Law-list, and other books and papers. - -'Mr. Traddles,' said the spare waiter. 'Number two in the Court.' - -The potential waiter waved him away, and turned, gravely, to me. - -'I was inquiring,' said I, 'whether Mr. Traddles, at number two in the -Court, has not a rising reputation among the lawyers?' - -'Never heard his name,' said the waiter, in a rich husky voice. - -I felt quite apologetic for Traddles. - -'He's a young man, sure?' said the portentous waiter, fixing his eyes -severely on me. 'How long has he been in the Inn?' - -'Not above three years,' said I. - -The waiter, who I supposed had lived in his churchwarden's pew for forty -years, could not pursue such an insignificant subject. He asked me what -I would have for dinner? - -I felt I was in England again, and really was quite cast down on -Traddles's account. There seemed to be no hope for him. I meekly ordered -a bit of fish and a steak, and stood before the fire musing on his -obscurity. - -As I followed the chief waiter with my eyes, I could not help thinking -that the garden in which he had gradually blown to be the flower he -was, was an arduous place to rise in. It had such a prescriptive, -stiff-necked, long-established, solemn, elderly air. I glanced about the -room, which had had its sanded floor sanded, no doubt, in exactly the -same manner when the chief waiter was a boy--if he ever was a boy, -which appeared improbable; and at the shining tables, where I saw -myself reflected, in unruffled depths of old mahogany; and at the lamps, -without a flaw in their trimming or cleaning; and at the comfortable -green curtains, with their pure brass rods, snugly enclosing the boxes; -and at the two large coal fires, brightly burning; and at the rows of -decanters, burly as if with the consciousness of pipes of expensive old -port wine below; and both England, and the law, appeared to me to be -very difficult indeed to be taken by storm. I went up to my bedroom -to change my wet clothes; and the vast extent of that old wainscoted -apartment (which was over the archway leading to the Inn, I remember), -and the sedate immensity of the four-post bedstead, and the indomitable -gravity of the chests of drawers, all seemed to unite in sternly -frowning on the fortunes of Traddles, or on any such daring youth. I -came down again to my dinner; and even the slow comfort of the meal, -and the orderly silence of the place--which was bare of guests, the Long -Vacation not yet being over--were eloquent on the audacity of Traddles, -and his small hopes of a livelihood for twenty years to come. - -I had seen nothing like this since I went away, and it quite dashed my -hopes for my friend. The chief waiter had had enough of me. He came near -me no more; but devoted himself to an old gentleman in long gaiters, to -meet whom a pint of special port seemed to come out of the cellar of its -own accord, for he gave no order. The second waiter informed me, in a -whisper, that this old gentleman was a retired conveyancer living in the -Square, and worth a mint of money, which it was expected he would leave -to his laundress's daughter; likewise that it was rumoured that he had -a service of plate in a bureau, all tarnished with lying by, though more -than one spoon and a fork had never yet been beheld in his chambers -by mortal vision. By this time, I quite gave Traddles up for lost; and -settled in my own mind that there was no hope for him. - -Being very anxious to see the dear old fellow, nevertheless, I -dispatched my dinner, in a manner not at all calculated to raise me in -the opinion of the chief waiter, and hurried out by the back way. Number -two in the Court was soon reached; and an inscription on the door-post -informing me that Mr. Traddles occupied a set of chambers on the top -storey, I ascended the staircase. A crazy old staircase I found it to -be, feebly lighted on each landing by a club--headed little oil wick, -dying away in a little dungeon of dirty glass. - -In the course of my stumbling upstairs, I fancied I heard a pleasant -sound of laughter; and not the laughter of an attorney or barrister, or -attorney's clerk or barrister's clerk, but of two or three merry girls. -Happening, however, as I stopped to listen, to put my foot in a hole -where the Honourable Society of Gray's Inn had left a plank deficient, -I fell down with some noise, and when I recovered my footing all was -silent. - -Groping my way more carefully, for the rest of the journey, my heart -beat high when I found the outer door, which had Mr. TRADDLES painted on -it, open. I knocked. A considerable scuffling within ensued, but nothing -else. I therefore knocked again. - -A small sharp-looking lad, half-footboy and half-clerk, who was very -much out of breath, but who looked at me as if he defied me to prove it -legally, presented himself. - -'Is Mr. Traddles within?' I said. - -'Yes, sir, but he's engaged.' - -'I want to see him.' - -After a moment's survey of me, the sharp-looking lad decided to let me -in; and opening the door wider for that purpose, admitted me, first, -into a little closet of a hall, and next into a little sitting-room; -where I came into the presence of my old friend (also out of breath), -seated at a table, and bending over papers. - -'Good God!' cried Traddles, looking up. 'It's Copperfield!' and rushed -into my arms, where I held him tight. - -'All well, my dear Traddles?' - -'All well, my dear, dear Copperfield, and nothing but good news!' - -We cried with pleasure, both of us. - -'My dear fellow,' said Traddles, rumpling his hair in his excitement, -which was a most unnecessary operation, 'my dearest Copperfield, my -long-lost and most welcome friend, how glad I am to see you! How -brown you are! How glad I am! Upon my life and honour, I never was so -rejoiced, my beloved Copperfield, never!' - -I was equally at a loss to express my emotions. I was quite unable to -speak, at first. - -'My dear fellow!' said Traddles. 'And grown so famous! My glorious -Copperfield! Good gracious me, WHEN did you come, WHERE have you come -from, WHAT have you been doing?' - -Never pausing for an answer to anything he said, Traddles, who had -clapped me into an easy-chair by the fire, all this time impetuously -stirred the fire with one hand, and pulled at my neck-kerchief with -the other, under some wild delusion that it was a great-coat. Without -putting down the poker, he now hugged me again; and I hugged him; and, -both laughing, and both wiping our eyes, we both sat down, and shook -hands across the hearth. - -'To think,' said Traddles, 'that you should have been so nearly coming -home as you must have been, my dear old boy, and not at the ceremony!' - -'What ceremony, my dear Traddles?' - -'Good gracious me!' cried Traddles, opening his eyes in his old way. -'Didn't you get my last letter?' - -'Certainly not, if it referred to any ceremony.' - -'Why, my dear Copperfield,' said Traddles, sticking his hair upright -with both hands, and then putting his hands on my knees, 'I am married!' - -'Married!' I cried joyfully. - -'Lord bless me, yes!' said Traddles--'by the Reverend Horace--to -Sophy--down in Devonshire. Why, my dear boy, she's behind the window -curtain! Look here!' - -To my amazement, the dearest girl in the world came at that same -instant, laughing and blushing, from her place of concealment. And a -more cheerful, amiable, honest, happy, bright-looking bride, I believe -(as I could not help saying on the spot) the world never saw. I kissed -her as an old acquaintance should, and wished them joy with all my might -of heart. - -'Dear me,' said Traddles, 'what a delightful re-union this is! You are -so extremely brown, my dear Copperfield! God bless my soul, how happy I -am!' - -'And so am I,' said I. - -'And I am sure I am!' said the blushing and laughing Sophy. - -'We are all as happy as possible!' said Traddles. 'Even the girls are -happy. Dear me, I declare I forgot them!' - -'Forgot?' said I. - -'The girls,' said Traddles. 'Sophy's sisters. They are staying with us. -They have come to have a peep at London. The fact is, when--was it you -that tumbled upstairs, Copperfield?' - -'It was,' said I, laughing. - -'Well then, when you tumbled upstairs,' said Traddles, 'I was romping -with the girls. In point of fact, we were playing at Puss in the Corner. -But as that wouldn't do in Westminster Hall, and as it wouldn't look -quite professional if they were seen by a client, they decamped. And -they are now--listening, I have no doubt,' said Traddles, glancing at -the door of another room. - -'I am sorry,' said I, laughing afresh, 'to have occasioned such a -dispersion.' - -'Upon my word,' rejoined Traddles, greatly delighted, 'if you had seen -them running away, and running back again, after you had knocked, to -pick up the combs they had dropped out of their hair, and going on in -the maddest manner, you wouldn't have said so. My love, will you fetch -the girls?' - -Sophy tripped away, and we heard her received in the adjoining room with -a peal of laughter. - -'Really musical, isn't it, my dear Copperfield?' said Traddles. 'It's -very agreeable to hear. It quite lights up these old rooms. To an -unfortunate bachelor of a fellow who has lived alone all his life, you -know, it's positively delicious. It's charming. Poor things, they have -had a great loss in Sophy--who, I do assure you, Copperfield is, and -ever was, the dearest girl!--and it gratifies me beyond expression -to find them in such good spirits. The society of girls is a very -delightful thing, Copperfield. It's not professional, but it's very -delightful.' - -Observing that he slightly faltered, and comprehending that in the -goodness of his heart he was fearful of giving me some pain by what he -had said, I expressed my concurrence with a heartiness that evidently -relieved and pleased him greatly. - -'But then,' said Traddles, 'our domestic arrangements are, to say -the truth, quite unprofessional altogether, my dear Copperfield. Even -Sophy's being here, is unprofessional. And we have no other place of -abode. We have put to sea in a cockboat, but we are quite prepared to -rough it. And Sophy's an extraordinary manager! You'll be surprised how -those girls are stowed away. I am sure I hardly know how it's done!' - -'Are many of the young ladies with you?' I inquired. - -'The eldest, the Beauty is here,' said Traddles, in a low confidential -voice, 'Caroline. And Sarah's here--the one I mentioned to you as having -something the matter with her spine, you know. Immensely better! And the -two youngest that Sophy educated are with us. And Louisa's here.' - -'Indeed!' cried I. - -'Yes,' said Traddles. 'Now the whole set--I mean the chambers--is only -three rooms; but Sophy arranges for the girls in the most wonderful way, -and they sleep as comfortably as possible. Three in that room,' said -Traddles, pointing. 'Two in that.' - -I could not help glancing round, in search of the accommodation -remaining for Mr. and Mrs. Traddles. Traddles understood me. - -'Well!' said Traddles, 'we are prepared to rough it, as I said just now, -and we did improvise a bed last week, upon the floor here. But there's -a little room in the roof--a very nice room, when you're up there--which -Sophy papered herself, to surprise me; and that's our room at present. -It's a capital little gipsy sort of place. There's quite a view from -it.' - -'And you are happily married at last, my dear Traddles!' said I. 'How -rejoiced I am!' - -'Thank you, my dear Copperfield,' said Traddles, as we shook hands -once more. 'Yes, I am as happy as it's possible to be. There's your old -friend, you see,' said Traddles, nodding triumphantly at the flower-pot -and stand; 'and there's the table with the marble top! All the other -furniture is plain and serviceable, you perceive. And as to plate, Lord -bless you, we haven't so much as a tea-spoon.' - -'All to be earned?' said I, cheerfully. - -'Exactly so,' replied Traddles, 'all to be earned. Of course we have -something in the shape of tea-spoons, because we stir our tea. But -they're Britannia metal.' - -'The silver will be the brighter when it comes,' said I. - -'The very thing we say!' cried Traddles. 'You see, my dear Copperfield,' -falling again into the low confidential tone, 'after I had delivered my -argument in DOE dem. JIPES versus WIGZIELL, which did me great service -with the profession, I went down into Devonshire, and had some serious -conversation in private with the Reverend Horace. I dwelt upon the fact -that Sophy--who I do assure you, Copperfield, is the dearest girl!--' - -'I am certain she is!' said I. - -'She is, indeed!' rejoined Traddles. 'But I am afraid I am wandering -from the subject. Did I mention the Reverend Horace?' - -'You said that you dwelt upon the fact--' - -'True! Upon the fact that Sophy and I had been engaged for a long -period, and that Sophy, with the permission of her parents, was more -than content to take me--in short,' said Traddles, with his old frank -smile, 'on our present Britannia-metal footing. Very well. I then -proposed to the Reverend Horace--who is a most excellent clergyman, -Copperfield, and ought to be a Bishop; or at least ought to have enough -to live upon, without pinching himself--that if I could turn the corner, -say of two hundred and fifty pounds, in one year; and could see my -way pretty clearly to that, or something better, next year; and could -plainly furnish a little place like this, besides; then, and in that -case, Sophy and I should be united. I took the liberty of representing -that we had been patient for a good many years; and that the -circumstance of Sophy's being extraordinarily useful at home, ought not -to operate with her affectionate parents, against her establishment in -life--don't you see?' - -'Certainly it ought not,' said I. - -'I am glad you think so, Copperfield,' rejoined Traddles, 'because, -without any imputation on the Reverend Horace, I do think parents, and -brothers, and so forth, are sometimes rather selfish in such cases. -Well! I also pointed out, that my most earnest desire was, to be useful -to the family; and that if I got on in the world, and anything should -happen to him--I refer to the Reverend Horace--' - -'I understand,' said I. - -'--Or to Mrs. Crewler--it would be the utmost gratification of my -wishes, to be a parent to the girls. He replied in a most admirable -manner, exceedingly flattering to my feelings, and undertook to obtain -the consent of Mrs. Crewler to this arrangement. They had a dreadful -time of it with her. It mounted from her legs into her chest, and then -into her head--' - -'What mounted?' I asked. - -'Her grief,' replied Traddles, with a serious look. 'Her feelings -generally. As I mentioned on a former occasion, she is a very superior -woman, but has lost the use of her limbs. Whatever occurs to harass -her, usually settles in her legs; but on this occasion it mounted to the -chest, and then to the head, and, in short, pervaded the whole system -in a most alarming manner. However, they brought her through it by -unremitting and affectionate attention; and we were married yesterday -six weeks. You have no idea what a Monster I felt, Copperfield, when I -saw the whole family crying and fainting away in every direction! Mrs. -Crewler couldn't see me before we left--couldn't forgive me, then, for -depriving her of her child--but she is a good creature, and has done so -since. I had a delightful letter from her, only this morning.' - -'And in short, my dear friend,' said I, 'you feel as blest as you -deserve to feel!' - -'Oh! That's your partiality!' laughed Traddles. 'But, indeed, I am in a -most enviable state. I work hard, and read Law insatiably. I get up at -five every morning, and don't mind it at all. I hide the girls in the -daytime, and make merry with them in the evening. And I assure you I am -quite sorry that they are going home on Tuesday, which is the day before -the first day of Michaelmas Term. But here,' said Traddles, breaking off -in his confidence, and speaking aloud, 'ARE the girls! Mr. Copperfield, -Miss Crewler--Miss Sarah--Miss Louisa--Margaret and Lucy!' - -They were a perfect nest of roses; they looked so wholesome and fresh. -They were all pretty, and Miss Caroline was very handsome; but there was -a loving, cheerful, fireside quality in Sophy's bright looks, which was -better than that, and which assured me that my friend had chosen well. -We all sat round the fire; while the sharp boy, who I now divined had -lost his breath in putting the papers out, cleared them away again, and -produced the tea-things. After that, he retired for the night, shutting -the outer door upon us with a bang. Mrs. Traddles, with perfect pleasure -and composure beaming from her household eyes, having made the tea, then -quietly made the toast as she sat in a corner by the fire. - -She had seen Agnes, she told me while she was toasting. 'Tom' had taken -her down into Kent for a wedding trip, and there she had seen my aunt, -too; and both my aunt and Agnes were well, and they had all talked of -nothing but me. 'Tom' had never had me out of his thoughts, she really -believed, all the time I had been away. 'Tom' was the authority for -everything. 'Tom' was evidently the idol of her life; never to be shaken -on his pedestal by any commotion; always to be believed in, and done -homage to with the whole faith of her heart, come what might. - -The deference which both she and Traddles showed towards the Beauty, -pleased me very much. I don't know that I thought it very reasonable; -but I thought it very delightful, and essentially a part of their -character. If Traddles ever for an instant missed the tea-spoons that -were still to be won, I have no doubt it was when he handed the Beauty -her tea. If his sweet-tempered wife could have got up any self-assertion -against anyone, I am satisfied it could only have been because she was -the Beauty's sister. A few slight indications of a rather petted and -capricious manner, which I observed in the Beauty, were manifestly -considered, by Traddles and his wife, as her birthright and natural -endowment. If she had been born a Queen Bee, and they labouring Bees, -they could not have been more satisfied of that. - -But their self-forgetfulness charmed me. Their pride in these girls, and -their submission of themselves to all their whims, was the pleasantest -little testimony to their own worth I could have desired to see. If -Traddles were addressed as 'a darling', once in the course of that -evening; and besought to bring something here, or carry something there, -or take something up, or put something down, or find something, or fetch -something, he was so addressed, by one or other of his sisters-in-law, -at least twelve times in an hour. Neither could they do anything without -Sophy. Somebody's hair fell down, and nobody but Sophy could put it up. -Somebody forgot how a particular tune went, and nobody but Sophy could -hum that tune right. Somebody wanted to recall the name of a place in -Devonshire, and only Sophy knew it. Something was wanted to be written -home, and Sophy alone could be trusted to write before breakfast in -the morning. Somebody broke down in a piece of knitting, and no one but -Sophy was able to put the defaulter in the right direction. They were -entire mistresses of the place, and Sophy and Traddles waited on them. -How many children Sophy could have taken care of in her time, I can't -imagine; but she seemed to be famous for knowing every sort of song that -ever was addressed to a child in the English tongue; and she sang dozens -to order with the clearest little voice in the world, one after another -(every sister issuing directions for a different tune, and the Beauty -generally striking in last), so that I was quite fascinated. The best -of all was, that, in the midst of their exactions, all the sisters had -a great tenderness and respect both for Sophy and Traddles. I am sure, -when I took my leave, and Traddles was coming out to walk with me to the -coffee-house, I thought I had never seen an obstinate head of hair, or -any other head of hair, rolling about in such a shower of kisses. - -Altogether, it was a scene I could not help dwelling on with pleasure, -for a long time after I got back and had wished Traddles good night. If -I had beheld a thousand roses blowing in a top set of chambers, in that -withered Gray's Inn, they could not have brightened it half so much. -The idea of those Devonshire girls, among the dry law-stationers and the -attorneys' offices; and of the tea and toast, and children's songs, in -that grim atmosphere of pounce and parchment, red-tape, dusty wafers, -ink-jars, brief and draft paper, law reports, writs, declarations, and -bills of costs; seemed almost as pleasantly fanciful as if I had -dreamed that the Sultan's famous family had been admitted on the roll of -attorneys, and had brought the talking bird, the singing tree, and the -golden water into Gray's Inn Hall. Somehow, I found that I had taken -leave of Traddles for the night, and come back to the coffee-house, with -a great change in my despondency about him. I began to think he would -get on, in spite of all the many orders of chief waiters in England. - -Drawing a chair before one of the coffee-room fires to think about him -at my leisure, I gradually fell from the consideration of his happiness -to tracing prospects in the live-coals, and to thinking, as they broke -and changed, of the principal vicissitudes and separations that had -marked my life. I had not seen a coal fire, since I had left England -three years ago: though many a wood fire had I watched, as it crumbled -into hoary ashes, and mingled with the feathery heap upon the hearth, -which not inaptly figured to me, in my despondency, my own dead hopes. - -I could think of the past now, gravely, but not bitterly; and could -contemplate the future in a brave spirit. Home, in its best sense, was -for me no more. She in whom I might have inspired a dearer love, I had -taught to be my sister. She would marry, and would have new claimants on -her tenderness; and in doing it, would never know the love for her that -had grown up in my heart. It was right that I should pay the forfeit of -my headlong passion. What I reaped, I had sown. - -I was thinking. And had I truly disciplined my heart to this, and could -I resolutely bear it, and calmly hold the place in her home which she -had calmly held in mine,--when I found my eyes resting on a countenance -that might have arisen out of the fire, in its association with my early -remembrances. - -Little Mr. Chillip the Doctor, to whose good offices I was indebted in -the very first chapter of this history, sat reading a newspaper in the -shadow of an opposite corner. He was tolerably stricken in years by this -time; but, being a mild, meek, calm little man, had worn so easily, that -I thought he looked at that moment just as he might have looked when he -sat in our parlour, waiting for me to be born. - -Mr. Chillip had left Blunderstone six or seven years ago, and I had -never seen him since. He sat placidly perusing the newspaper, with his -little head on one side, and a glass of warm sherry negus at his -elbow. He was so extremely conciliatory in his manner that he seemed to -apologize to the very newspaper for taking the liberty of reading it. - -I walked up to where he was sitting, and said, 'How do you do, Mr. -Chillip?' - -He was greatly fluttered by this unexpected address from a stranger, and -replied, in his slow way, 'I thank you, sir, you are very good. Thank -you, sir. I hope YOU are well.' - -'You don't remember me?' said I. - -'Well, sir,' returned Mr. Chillip, smiling very meekly, and shaking his -head as he surveyed me, 'I have a kind of an impression that something -in your countenance is familiar to me, sir; but I couldn't lay my hand -upon your name, really.' - -'And yet you knew it, long before I knew it myself,' I returned. - -'Did I indeed, sir?' said Mr. Chillip. 'Is it possible that I had the -honour, sir, of officiating when--?' - -'Yes,' said I. - -'Dear me!' cried Mr. Chillip. 'But no doubt you are a good deal changed -since then, sir?' - -'Probably,' said I. - -'Well, sir,' observed Mr. Chillip, 'I hope you'll excuse me, if I am -compelled to ask the favour of your name?' - -On my telling him my name, he was really moved. He quite shook hands -with me--which was a violent proceeding for him, his usual course being -to slide a tepid little fish-slice, an inch or two in advance of his -hip, and evince the greatest discomposure when anybody grappled with -it. Even now, he put his hand in his coat-pocket as soon as he could -disengage it, and seemed relieved when he had got it safe back. - -'Dear me, sir!' said Mr. Chillip, surveying me with his head on one -side. 'And it's Mr. Copperfield, is it? Well, sir, I think I should have -known you, if I had taken the liberty of looking more closely at you. -There's a strong resemblance between you and your poor father, sir.' - -'I never had the happiness of seeing my father,' I observed. - -'Very true, sir,' said Mr. Chillip, in a soothing tone. 'And very much -to be deplored it was, on all accounts! We are not ignorant, sir,' said -Mr. Chillip, slowly shaking his little head again, 'down in our part of -the country, of your fame. There must be great excitement here, sir,' -said Mr. Chillip, tapping himself on the forehead with his forefinger. -'You must find it a trying occupation, sir!' - -'What is your part of the country now?' I asked, seating myself near -him. - -'I am established within a few miles of Bury St. Edmund's, sir,' said -Mr. Chillip. 'Mrs. Chillip, coming into a little property in that -neighbourhood, under her father's will, I bought a practice down there, -in which you will be glad to hear I am doing well. My daughter is -growing quite a tall lass now, sir,' said Mr. Chillip, giving his little -head another little shake. 'Her mother let down two tucks in her frocks -only last week. Such is time, you see, sir!' - -As the little man put his now empty glass to his lips, when he made this -reflection, I proposed to him to have it refilled, and I would keep him -company with another. 'Well, sir,' he returned, in his slow way, 'it's -more than I am accustomed to; but I can't deny myself the pleasure -of your conversation. It seems but yesterday that I had the honour of -attending you in the measles. You came through them charmingly, sir!' - -I acknowledged this compliment, and ordered the negus, which was soon -produced. 'Quite an uncommon dissipation!' said Mr. Chillip, stirring -it, 'but I can't resist so extraordinary an occasion. You have no -family, sir?' - -I shook my head. - -'I was aware that you sustained a bereavement, sir, some time ago,' said -Mr. Chillip. 'I heard it from your father-in-law's sister. Very decided -character there, sir?' - -'Why, yes,' said I, 'decided enough. Where did you see her, Mr. -Chillip?' - -'Are you not aware, sir,' returned Mr. Chillip, with his placidest -smile, 'that your father-in-law is again a neighbour of mine?' - -'No,' said I. - -'He is indeed, sir!' said Mr. Chillip. 'Married a young lady of that -part, with a very good little property, poor thing.---And this action -of the brain now, sir? Don't you find it fatigue you?' said Mr. Chillip, -looking at me like an admiring Robin. - -I waived that question, and returned to the Murdstones. 'I was aware of -his being married again. Do you attend the family?' I asked. - -'Not regularly. I have been called in,' he replied. 'Strong -phrenological developments of the organ of firmness, in Mr. Murdstone -and his sister, sir.' - -I replied with such an expressive look, that Mr. Chillip was emboldened -by that, and the negus together, to give his head several short shakes, -and thoughtfully exclaim, 'Ah, dear me! We remember old times, Mr. -Copperfield!' - -'And the brother and sister are pursuing their old course, are they?' -said I. - -'Well, sir,' replied Mr. Chillip, 'a medical man, being so much in -families, ought to have neither eyes nor ears for anything but his -profession. Still, I must say, they are very severe, sir: both as to -this life and the next.' - -'The next will be regulated without much reference to them, I dare say,' -I returned: 'what are they doing as to this?' - -Mr. Chillip shook his head, stirred his negus, and sipped it. - -'She was a charming woman, sir!' he observed in a plaintive manner. - -'The present Mrs. Murdstone?' - -'A charming woman indeed, sir,' said Mr. Chillip; 'as amiable, I am sure, -as it was possible to be! Mrs. Chillip's opinion is, that her spirit -has been entirely broken since her marriage, and that she is all but -melancholy mad. And the ladies,' observed Mr. Chillip, timorously, 'are -great observers, sir.' - -'I suppose she was to be subdued and broken to their detestable mould, -Heaven help her!' said I. 'And she has been.' - -'Well, sir, there were violent quarrels at first, I assure you,' said -Mr. Chillip; 'but she is quite a shadow now. Would it be considered -forward if I was to say to you, sir, in confidence, that since the -sister came to help, the brother and sister between them have nearly -reduced her to a state of imbecility?' - -I told him I could easily believe it. - -'I have no hesitation in saying,' said Mr. Chillip, fortifying himself -with another sip of negus, 'between you and me, sir, that her mother -died of it--or that tyranny, gloom, and worry have made Mrs. Murdstone -nearly imbecile. She was a lively young woman, sir, before marriage, and -their gloom and austerity destroyed her. They go about with her, now, -more like her keepers than her husband and sister-in-law. That was -Mrs. Chillip's remark to me, only last week. And I assure you, sir, the -ladies are great observers. Mrs. Chillip herself is a great observer!' - -'Does he gloomily profess to be (I am ashamed to use the word in such -association) religious still?' I inquired. - -'You anticipate, sir,' said Mr. Chillip, his eyelids getting quite -red with the unwonted stimulus in which he was indulging. 'One of Mrs. -Chillip's most impressive remarks. Mrs. Chillip,' he proceeded, in the -calmest and slowest manner, 'quite electrified me, by pointing out -that Mr. Murdstone sets up an image of himself, and calls it the Divine -Nature. You might have knocked me down on the flat of my back, sir, -with the feather of a pen, I assure you, when Mrs. Chillip said so. The -ladies are great observers, sir?' - -'Intuitively,' said I, to his extreme delight. - -'I am very happy to receive such support in my opinion, sir,' he -rejoined. 'It is not often that I venture to give a non-medical opinion, -I assure you. Mr. Murdstone delivers public addresses sometimes, and it -is said,--in short, sir, it is said by Mrs. Chillip,--that the darker -tyrant he has lately been, the more ferocious is his doctrine.' - -'I believe Mrs. Chillip to be perfectly right,' said I. - -'Mrs. Chillip does go so far as to say,' pursued the meekest of little -men, much encouraged, 'that what such people miscall their religion, is -a vent for their bad humours and arrogance. And do you know I must say, -sir,' he continued, mildly laying his head on one side, 'that I DON'T -find authority for Mr. and Miss Murdstone in the New Testament?' - -'I never found it either!' said I. - -'In the meantime, sir,' said Mr. Chillip, 'they are much disliked; -and as they are very free in consigning everybody who dislikes them -to perdition, we really have a good deal of perdition going on in -our neighbourhood! However, as Mrs. Chillip says, sir, they undergo a -continual punishment; for they are turned inward, to feed upon their own -hearts, and their own hearts are very bad feeding. Now, sir, about that -brain of yours, if you'll excuse my returning to it. Don't you expose it -to a good deal of excitement, sir?' - -I found it not difficult, in the excitement of Mr. Chillip's own brain, -under his potations of negus, to divert his attention from this topic -to his own affairs, on which, for the next half-hour, he was quite -loquacious; giving me to understand, among other pieces of information, -that he was then at the Gray's Inn Coffee-house to lay his professional -evidence before a Commission of Lunacy, touching the state of mind of a -patient who had become deranged from excessive drinking. 'And I assure -you, sir,' he said, 'I am extremely nervous on such occasions. I could -not support being what is called Bullied, sir. It would quite unman -me. Do you know it was some time before I recovered the conduct of that -alarming lady, on the night of your birth, Mr. Copperfield?' - -I told him that I was going down to my aunt, the Dragon of that night, -early in the morning; and that she was one of the most tender-hearted -and excellent of women, as he would know full well if he knew her -better. The mere notion of the possibility of his ever seeing her again, -appeared to terrify him. He replied with a small pale smile, 'Is she so, -indeed, sir? Really?' and almost immediately called for a candle, and -went to bed, as if he were not quite safe anywhere else. He did not -actually stagger under the negus; but I should think his placid little -pulse must have made two or three more beats in a minute, than it had -done since the great night of my aunt's disappointment, when she struck -at him with her bonnet. - -Thoroughly tired, I went to bed too, at midnight; passed the next day on -the Dover coach; burst safe and sound into my aunt's old parlour while -she was at tea (she wore spectacles now); and was received by her, and -Mr. Dick, and dear old Peggotty, who acted as housekeeper, with open -arms and tears of joy. My aunt was mightily amused, when we began to -talk composedly, by my account of my meeting with Mr. Chillip, and of -his holding her in such dread remembrance; and both she and Peggotty -had a great deal to say about my poor mother's second husband, and 'that -murdering woman of a sister',--on whom I think no pain or penalty would -have induced my aunt to bestow any Christian or Proper Name, or any -other designation. - - - -CHAPTER 60. AGNES - - -My aunt and I, when we were left alone, talked far into the night. How -the emigrants never wrote home, otherwise than cheerfully and hopefully; -how Mr. Micawber had actually remitted divers small sums of money, on -account of those 'pecuniary liabilities', in reference to which he had -been so business-like as between man and man; how Janet, returning into -my aunt's service when she came back to Dover, had finally carried out -her renunciation of mankind by entering into wedlock with a thriving -tavern-keeper; and how my aunt had finally set her seal on the same -great principle, by aiding and abetting the bride, and crowning the -marriage-ceremony with her presence; were among our topics--already -more or less familiar to me through the letters I had had. Mr. Dick, -as usual, was not forgotten. My aunt informed me how he incessantly -occupied himself in copying everything he could lay his hands on, and -kept King Charles the First at a respectful distance by that semblance -of employment; how it was one of the main joys and rewards of her life -that he was free and happy, instead of pining in monotonous restraint; -and how (as a novel general conclusion) nobody but she could ever fully -know what he was. - -'And when, Trot,' said my aunt, patting the back of my hand, as we sat -in our old way before the fire, 'when are you going over to Canterbury?' - -'I shall get a horse, and ride over tomorrow morning, aunt, unless you -will go with me?' - -'No!' said my aunt, in her short abrupt way. 'I mean to stay where I -am.' - -Then, I should ride, I said. I could not have come through Canterbury -today without stopping, if I had been coming to anyone but her. - -She was pleased, but answered, 'Tut, Trot; MY old bones would have -kept till tomorrow!' and softly patted my hand again, as I sat looking -thoughtfully at the fire. - -Thoughtfully, for I could not be here once more, and so near Agnes, -without the revival of those regrets with which I had so long been -occupied. Softened regrets they might be, teaching me what I had failed -to learn when my younger life was all before me, but not the less -regrets. 'Oh, Trot,' I seemed to hear my aunt say once more; and I -understood her better now--'Blind, blind, blind!' - -We both kept silence for some minutes. When I raised my eyes, I found -that she was steadily observant of me. Perhaps she had followed the -current of my mind; for it seemed to me an easy one to track now, wilful -as it had been once. - -'You will find her father a white-haired old man,' said my aunt, 'though -a better man in all other respects--a reclaimed man. Neither will you -find him measuring all human interests, and joys, and sorrows, with his -one poor little inch-rule now. Trust me, child, such things must shrink -very much, before they can be measured off in that way.' - -'Indeed they must,' said I. - -'You will find her,' pursued my aunt, 'as good, as beautiful, as -earnest, as disinterested, as she has always been. If I knew higher -praise, Trot, I would bestow it on her.' - -There was no higher praise for her; no higher reproach for me. Oh, how -had I strayed so far away! - -'If she trains the young girls whom she has about her, to be like -herself,' said my aunt, earnest even to the filling of her eyes with -tears, 'Heaven knows, her life will be well employed! Useful and happy, -as she said that day! How could she be otherwise than useful and happy!' - -'Has Agnes any--' I was thinking aloud, rather than speaking. - -'Well? Hey? Any what?' said my aunt, sharply. - -'Any lover,' said I. - -'A score,' cried my aunt, with a kind of indignant pride. 'She might -have married twenty times, my dear, since you have been gone!' - -'No doubt,' said I. 'No doubt. But has she any lover who is worthy of -her? Agnes could care for no other.' - -My aunt sat musing for a little while, with her chin upon her hand. -Slowly raising her eyes to mine, she said: - -'I suspect she has an attachment, Trot.' - -'A prosperous one?' said I. - -'Trot,' returned my aunt gravely, 'I can't say. I have no right to tell -you even so much. She has never confided it to me, but I suspect it.' - -She looked so attentively and anxiously at me (I even saw her tremble), -that I felt now, more than ever, that she had followed my late thoughts. -I summoned all the resolutions I had made, in all those many days and -nights, and all those many conflicts of my heart. - -'If it should be so,' I began, 'and I hope it is-' - -'I don't know that it is,' said my aunt curtly. 'You must not be ruled -by my suspicions. You must keep them secret. They are very slight, -perhaps. I have no right to speak.' - -'If it should be so,' I repeated, 'Agnes will tell me at her own good -time. A sister to whom I have confided so much, aunt, will not be -reluctant to confide in me.' - -My aunt withdrew her eyes from mine, as slowly as she had turned them -upon me; and covered them thoughtfully with her hand. By and by she -put her other hand on my shoulder; and so we both sat, looking into the -past, without saying another word, until we parted for the night. - -I rode away, early in the morning, for the scene of my old school-days. -I cannot say that I was yet quite happy, in the hope that I was gaining -a victory over myself; even in the prospect of so soon looking on her -face again. - -The well-remembered ground was soon traversed, and I came into the quiet -streets, where every stone was a boy's book to me. I went on foot to the -old house, and went away with a heart too full to enter. I returned; and -looking, as I passed, through the low window of the turret-room where -first Uriah Heep, and afterwards Mr. Micawber, had been wont to sit, -saw that it was a little parlour now, and that there was no office. -Otherwise the staid old house was, as to its cleanliness and order, -still just as it had been when I first saw it. I requested the new maid -who admitted me, to tell Miss Wickfield that a gentleman who waited on -her from a friend abroad, was there; and I was shown up the grave old -staircase (cautioned of the steps I knew so well), into the unchanged -drawing-room. The books that Agnes and I had read together, were on -their shelves; and the desk where I had laboured at my lessons, many -a night, stood yet at the same old corner of the table. All the little -changes that had crept in when the Heeps were there, were changed again. -Everything was as it used to be, in the happy time. - -I stood in a window, and looked across the ancient street at the -opposite houses, recalling how I had watched them on wet afternoons, -when I first came there; and how I had used to speculate about the -people who appeared at any of the windows, and had followed them with my -eyes up and down stairs, while women went clicking along the pavement in -pattens, and the dull rain fell in slanting lines, and poured out of the -water-spout yonder, and flowed into the road. The feeling with which -I used to watch the tramps, as they came into the town on those wet -evenings, at dusk, and limped past, with their bundles drooping over -their shoulders at the ends of sticks, came freshly back to me; fraught, -as then, with the smell of damp earth, and wet leaves and briar, and the -sensation of the very airs that blew upon me in my own toilsome journey. - -The opening of the little door in the panelled wall made me start and -turn. Her beautiful serene eyes met mine as she came towards me. She -stopped and laid her hand upon her bosom, and I caught her in my arms. - -'Agnes! my dear girl! I have come too suddenly upon you.' - -'No, no! I am so rejoiced to see you, Trotwood!' - -'Dear Agnes, the happiness it is to me, to see you once again!' - -I folded her to my heart, and, for a little while, we were both silent. -Presently we sat down, side by side; and her angel-face was turned upon -me with the welcome I had dreamed of, waking and sleeping, for whole -years. - -She was so true, she was so beautiful, she was so good,--I owed her so -much gratitude, she was so dear to me, that I could find no utterance -for what I felt. I tried to bless her, tried to thank her, tried to tell -her (as I had often done in letters) what an influence she had upon me; -but all my efforts were in vain. My love and joy were dumb. - -With her own sweet tranquillity, she calmed my agitation; led me back to -the time of our parting; spoke to me of Emily, whom she had visited, -in secret, many times; spoke to me tenderly of Dora's grave. With the -unerring instinct of her noble heart, she touched the chords of my -memory so softly and harmoniously, that not one jarred within me; I -could listen to the sorrowful, distant music, and desire to shrink from -nothing it awoke. How could I, when, blended with it all, was her dear -self, the better angel of my life? - -'And you, Agnes,' I said, by and by. 'Tell me of yourself. You have -hardly ever told me of your own life, in all this lapse of time!' - -'What should I tell?' she answered, with her radiant smile. 'Papa is -well. You see us here, quiet in our own home; our anxieties set at rest, -our home restored to us; and knowing that, dear Trotwood, you know all.' - -'All, Agnes?' said I. - -She looked at me, with some fluttering wonder in her face. - -'Is there nothing else, Sister?' I said. - -Her colour, which had just now faded, returned, and faded again. She -smiled; with a quiet sadness, I thought; and shook her head. - -I had sought to lead her to what my aunt had hinted at; for, sharply -painful to me as it must be to receive that confidence, I was to -discipline my heart, and do my duty to her. I saw, however, that she was -uneasy, and I let it pass. - -'You have much to do, dear Agnes?' - -'With my school?' said she, looking up again, in all her bright -composure. - -'Yes. It is laborious, is it not?' - -'The labour is so pleasant,' she returned, 'that it is scarcely grateful -in me to call it by that name.' - -'Nothing good is difficult to you,' said I. - -Her colour came and went once more; and once more, as she bent her head, -I saw the same sad smile. - -'You will wait and see papa,' said Agnes, cheerfully, 'and pass the -day with us? Perhaps you will sleep in your own room? We always call it -yours.' - -I could not do that, having promised to ride back to my aunt's at night; -but I would pass the day there, joyfully. - -'I must be a prisoner for a little while,' said Agnes, 'but here are the -old books, Trotwood, and the old music.' - -'Even the old flowers are here,' said I, looking round; 'or the old -kinds.' - -'I have found a pleasure,' returned Agnes, smiling, 'while you have been -absent, in keeping everything as it used to be when we were children. -For we were very happy then, I think.' - -'Heaven knows we were!' said I. - -'And every little thing that has reminded me of my brother,' said Agnes, -with her cordial eyes turned cheerfully upon me, 'has been a welcome -companion. Even this,' showing me the basket-trifle, full of keys, still -hanging at her side, 'seems to jingle a kind of old tune!' - -She smiled again, and went out at the door by which she had come. - -It was for me to guard this sisterly affection with religious care. It -was all that I had left myself, and it was a treasure. If I once shook -the foundations of the sacred confidence and usage, in virtue of which -it was given to me, it was lost, and could never be recovered. I set -this steadily before myself. The better I loved her, the more it behoved -me never to forget it. - -I walked through the streets; and, once more seeing my old adversary the -butcher--now a constable, with his staff hanging up in the shop--went -down to look at the place where I had fought him; and there meditated -on Miss Shepherd and the eldest Miss Larkins, and all the idle loves and -likings, and dislikings, of that time. Nothing seemed to have survived -that time but Agnes; and she, ever a star above me, was brighter and -higher. - -When I returned, Mr. Wickfield had come home, from a garden he had, a -couple of miles or so out of town, where he now employed himself almost -every day. I found him as my aunt had described him. We sat down to -dinner, with some half-dozen little girls; and he seemed but the shadow -of his handsome picture on the wall. - -The tranquillity and peace belonging, of old, to that quiet ground in my -memory, pervaded it again. When dinner was done, Mr. Wickfield taking no -wine, and I desiring none, we went up-stairs; where Agnes and her little -charges sang and played, and worked. After tea the children left us; and -we three sat together, talking of the bygone days. - -'My part in them,' said Mr. Wickfield, shaking his white head, 'has much -matter for regret--for deep regret, and deep contrition, Trotwood, you -well know. But I would not cancel it, if it were in my power.' - -I could readily believe that, looking at the face beside him. - -'I should cancel with it,' he pursued, 'such patience and devotion, such -fidelity, such a child's love, as I must not forget, no! even to forget -myself.' - -'I understand you, sir,' I softly said. 'I hold it--I have always held -it--in veneration.' - -'But no one knows, not even you,' he returned, 'how much she has done, -how much she has undergone, how hard she has striven. Dear Agnes!' - -She had put her hand entreatingly on his arm, to stop him; and was very, -very pale. - -'Well, well!' he said with a sigh, dismissing, as I then saw, some trial -she had borne, or was yet to bear, in connexion with what my aunt had -told me. 'Well! I have never told you, Trotwood, of her mother. Has -anyone?' - -'Never, sir.' - -'It's not much--though it was much to suffer. She married me in -opposition to her father's wish, and he renounced her. She prayed him -to forgive her, before my Agnes came into this world. He was a very hard -man, and her mother had long been dead. He repulsed her. He broke her -heart.' - -Agnes leaned upon his shoulder, and stole her arm about his neck. - -'She had an affectionate and gentle heart,' he said; 'and it was broken. -I knew its tender nature very well. No one could, if I did not. She -loved me dearly, but was never happy. She was always labouring, in -secret, under this distress; and being delicate and downcast at the time -of his last repulse--for it was not the first, by many--pined away -and died. She left me Agnes, two weeks old; and the grey hair that you -recollect me with, when you first came.' He kissed Agnes on her cheek. - -'My love for my dear child was a diseased love, but my mind was all -unhealthy then. I say no more of that. I am not speaking of myself, -Trotwood, but of her mother, and of her. If I give you any clue to what -I am, or to what I have been, you will unravel it, I know. What Agnes -is, I need not say. I have always read something of her poor mother's -story, in her character; and so I tell it you tonight, when we three are -again together, after such great changes. I have told it all.' - -His bowed head, and her angel-face and filial duty, derived a more -pathetic meaning from it than they had had before. If I had wanted -anything by which to mark this night of our re-union, I should have -found it in this. - -Agnes rose up from her father's side, before long; and going softly to -her piano, played some of the old airs to which we had often listened in -that place. - -'Have you any intention of going away again?' Agnes asked me, as I was -standing by. - -'What does my sister say to that?' - -'I hope not.' - -'Then I have no such intention, Agnes.' - -'I think you ought not, Trotwood, since you ask me,' she said, mildly. -'Your growing reputation and success enlarge your power of doing good; -and if I could spare my brother,' with her eyes upon me, 'perhaps the -time could not.' - -'What I am, you have made me, Agnes. You should know best.' - -'I made you, Trotwood?' - -'Yes! Agnes, my dear girl!' I said, bending over her. 'I tried to tell -you, when we met today, something that has been in my thoughts since -Dora died. You remember, when you came down to me in our little -room--pointing upward, Agnes?' - -'Oh, Trotwood!' she returned, her eyes filled with tears. 'So loving, so -confiding, and so young! Can I ever forget?' - -'As you were then, my sister, I have often thought since, you have ever -been to me. Ever pointing upward, Agnes; ever leading me to something -better; ever directing me to higher things!' - -She only shook her head; through her tears I saw the same sad quiet -smile. - -'And I am so grateful to you for it, Agnes, so bound to you, that there -is no name for the affection of my heart. I want you to know, yet don't -know how to tell you, that all my life long I shall look up to you, -and be guided by you, as I have been through the darkness that is past. -Whatever betides, whatever new ties you may form, whatever changes may -come between us, I shall always look to you, and love you, as I do now, -and have always done. You will always be my solace and resource, as you -have always been. Until I die, my dearest sister, I shall see you always -before me, pointing upward!' - -She put her hand in mine, and told me she was proud of me, and of what I -said; although I praised her very far beyond her worth. Then she went -on softly playing, but without removing her eyes from me. 'Do you know, -what I have heard tonight, Agnes,' said I, strangely seems to be a part -of the feeling with which I regarded you when I saw you first--with -which I sat beside you in my rough school-days?' - -'You knew I had no mother,' she replied with a smile, 'and felt kindly -towards me.' - -'More than that, Agnes, I knew, almost as if I had known this story, -that there was something inexplicably gentle and softened, surrounding -you; something that might have been sorrowful in someone else (as I can -now understand it was), but was not so in you.' - -She softly played on, looking at me still. - -'Will you laugh at my cherishing such fancies, Agnes?' - -'No!' - -'Or at my saying that I really believe I felt, even then, that you could -be faithfully affectionate against all discouragement, and never cease -to be so, until you ceased to live?---Will you laugh at such a dream?' - -'Oh, no! Oh, no!' - -For an instant, a distressful shadow crossed her face; but, even in the -start it gave me, it was gone; and she was playing on, and looking at me -with her own calm smile. - -As I rode back in the lonely night, the wind going by me like a restless -memory, I thought of this, and feared she was not happy. I was not -happy; but, thus far, I had faithfully set the seal upon the Past, and, -thinking of her, pointing upward, thought of her as pointing to that -sky above me, where, in the mystery to come, I might yet love her with -a love unknown on earth, and tell her what the strife had been within me -when I loved her here. - - - -CHAPTER 61. I AM SHOWN TWO INTERESTING PENITENTS - - -For a time--at all events until my book should be completed, which would -be the work of several months--I took up my abode in my aunt's house at -Dover; and there, sitting in the window from which I had looked out at -the moon upon the sea, when that roof first gave me shelter, I quietly -pursued my task. - -In pursuance of my intention of referring to my own fictions only when -their course should incidentally connect itself with the progress of my -story, I do not enter on the aspirations, the delights, anxieties, and -triumphs of my art. That I truly devoted myself to it with my strongest -earnestness, and bestowed upon it every energy of my soul, I have -already said. If the books I have written be of any worth, they will -supply the rest. I shall otherwise have written to poor purpose, and the -rest will be of interest to no one. - -Occasionally, I went to London; to lose myself in the swarm of life -there, or to consult with Traddles on some business point. He had -managed for me, in my absence, with the soundest judgement; and my -worldly affairs were prospering. As my notoriety began to bring upon -me an enormous quantity of letters from people of whom I had no -knowledge--chiefly about nothing, and extremely difficult to answer--I -agreed with Traddles to have my name painted up on his door. There, the -devoted postman on that beat delivered bushels of letters for me; and -there, at intervals, I laboured through them, like a Home Secretary of -State without the salary. - -Among this correspondence, there dropped in, every now and then, an -obliging proposal from one of the numerous outsiders always lurking -about the Commons, to practise under cover of my name (if I would take -the necessary steps remaining to make a proctor of myself), and pay me -a percentage on the profits. But I declined these offers; being already -aware that there were plenty of such covert practitioners in existence, -and considering the Commons quite bad enough, without my doing anything -to make it worse. - -The girls had gone home, when my name burst into bloom on Traddles's -door; and the sharp boy looked, all day, as if he had never heard of -Sophy, shut up in a back room, glancing down from her work into a sooty -little strip of garden with a pump in it. But there I always found her, -the same bright housewife; often humming her Devonshire ballads when no -strange foot was coming up the stairs, and blunting the sharp boy in his -official closet with melody. - -I wondered, at first, why I so often found Sophy writing in a copy-book; -and why she always shut it up when I appeared, and hurried it into the -table-drawer. But the secret soon came out. One day, Traddles (who had -just come home through the drizzling sleet from Court) took a paper out -of his desk, and asked me what I thought of that handwriting? - -'Oh, DON'T, Tom!' cried Sophy, who was warming his slippers before the -fire. - -'My dear,' returned Tom, in a delighted state, 'why not? What do you say -to that writing, Copperfield?' - -'It's extraordinarily legal and formal,' said I. 'I don't think I ever -saw such a stiff hand.' - -'Not like a lady's hand, is it?' said Traddles. - -'A lady's!' I repeated. 'Bricks and mortar are more like a lady's hand!' - -Traddles broke into a rapturous laugh, and informed me that it was -Sophy's writing; that Sophy had vowed and declared he would need a -copying-clerk soon, and she would be that clerk; that she had acquired -this hand from a pattern; and that she could throw off--I forget how -many folios an hour. Sophy was very much confused by my being told all -this, and said that when 'Tom' was made a judge he wouldn't be so ready -to proclaim it. Which 'Tom' denied; averring that he should always be -equally proud of it, under all circumstances. - -'What a thoroughly good and charming wife she is, my dear Traddles!' -said I, when she had gone away, laughing. - -'My dear Copperfield,' returned Traddles, 'she is, without any -exception, the dearest girl! The way she manages this place; her -punctuality, domestic knowledge, economy, and order; her cheerfulness, -Copperfield!' - -'Indeed, you have reason to commend her!' I returned. 'You are a happy -fellow. I believe you make yourselves, and each other, two of the -happiest people in the world.' - -'I am sure we ARE two of the happiest people,' returned Traddles. 'I -admit that, at all events. Bless my soul, when I see her getting up -by candle-light on these dark mornings, busying herself in the day's -arrangements, going out to market before the clerks come into the Inn, -caring for no weather, devising the most capital little dinners out of -the plainest materials, making puddings and pies, keeping everything in -its right place, always so neat and ornamental herself, sitting up -at night with me if it's ever so late, sweet-tempered and encouraging -always, and all for me, I positively sometimes can't believe it, -Copperfield!' - -He was tender of the very slippers she had been warming, as he put them -on, and stretched his feet enjoyingly upon the fender. - -'I positively sometimes can't believe it,' said Traddles. 'Then our -pleasures! Dear me, they are inexpensive, but they are quite wonderful! -When we are at home here, of an evening, and shut the outer door, and -draw those curtains--which she made--where could we be more snug? When -it's fine, and we go out for a walk in the evening, the streets -abound in enjoyment for us. We look into the glittering windows of the -jewellers' shops; and I show Sophy which of the diamond-eyed serpents, -coiled up on white satin rising grounds, I would give her if I could -afford it; and Sophy shows me which of the gold watches that are -capped and jewelled and engine-turned, and possessed of the horizontal -lever-escape-movement, and all sorts of things, she would buy for me if -she could afford it; and we pick out the spoons and forks, fish-slices, -butter-knives, and sugar-tongs, we should both prefer if we could both -afford it; and really we go away as if we had got them! Then, when we -stroll into the squares, and great streets, and see a house to let, -sometimes we look up at it, and say, how would THAT do, if I was made -a judge? And we parcel it out--such a room for us, such rooms for the -girls, and so forth; until we settle to our satisfaction that it -would do, or it wouldn't do, as the case may be. Sometimes, we go at -half-price to the pit of the theatre--the very smell of which is cheap, -in my opinion, at the money--and there we thoroughly enjoy the play: -which Sophy believes every word of, and so do I. In walking home, -perhaps we buy a little bit of something at a cook's-shop, or a little -lobster at the fishmongers, and bring it here, and make a splendid -supper, chatting about what we have seen. Now, you know, Copperfield, if -I was Lord Chancellor, we couldn't do this!' - -'You would do something, whatever you were, my dear Traddles,' thought -I, 'that would be pleasant and amiable. And by the way,' I said aloud, -'I suppose you never draw any skeletons now?' - -'Really,' replied Traddles, laughing, and reddening, 'I can't wholly -deny that I do, my dear Copperfield. For being in one of the back rows -of the King's Bench the other day, with a pen in my hand, the fancy came -into my head to try how I had preserved that accomplishment. And I am -afraid there's a skeleton--in a wig--on the ledge of the desk.' - -After we had both laughed heartily, Traddles wound up by looking with a -smile at the fire, and saying, in his forgiving way, 'Old Creakle!' - -'I have a letter from that old--Rascal here,' said I. For I never was -less disposed to forgive him the way he used to batter Traddles, than -when I saw Traddles so ready to forgive him himself. - -'From Creakle the schoolmaster?' exclaimed Traddles. 'No!' - -'Among the persons who are attracted to me in my rising fame and -fortune,' said I, looking over my letters, 'and who discover that they -were always much attached to me, is the self-same Creakle. He is not -a schoolmaster now, Traddles. He is retired. He is a Middlesex -Magistrate.' - -I thought Traddles might be surprised to hear it, but he was not so at -all. - -'How do you suppose he comes to be a Middlesex Magistrate?' said I. - -'Oh dear me!' replied Traddles, 'it would be very difficult to answer -that question. Perhaps he voted for somebody, or lent money to somebody, -or bought something of somebody, or otherwise obliged somebody, or -jobbed for somebody, who knew somebody who got the lieutenant of the -county to nominate him for the commission.' - -'On the commission he is, at any rate,' said I. 'And he writes to me -here, that he will be glad to show me, in operation, the only true -system of prison discipline; the only unchallengeable way of making -sincere and lasting converts and penitents--which, you know, is by -solitary confinement. What do you say?' - -'To the system?' inquired Traddles, looking grave. - -'No. To my accepting the offer, and your going with me?' - -'I don't object,' said Traddles. - -'Then I'll write to say so. You remember (to say nothing of our -treatment) this same Creakle turning his son out of doors, I suppose, -and the life he used to lead his wife and daughter?' - -'Perfectly,' said Traddles. - -'Yet, if you'll read his letter, you'll find he is the tenderest of -men to prisoners convicted of the whole calendar of felonies,' said I; -'though I can't find that his tenderness extends to any other class of -created beings.' - -Traddles shrugged his shoulders, and was not at all surprised. I had not -expected him to be, and was not surprised myself; or my observation of -similar practical satires would have been but scanty. We arranged the -time of our visit, and I wrote accordingly to Mr. Creakle that evening. - -On the appointed day--I think it was the next day, but no -matter--Traddles and I repaired to the prison where Mr. Creakle was -powerful. It was an immense and solid building, erected at a vast -expense. I could not help thinking, as we approached the gate, what -an uproar would have been made in the country, if any deluded man had -proposed to spend one half the money it had cost, on the erection of an -industrial school for the young, or a house of refuge for the deserving -old. - -In an office that might have been on the ground-floor of the Tower of -Babel, it was so massively constructed, we were presented to our old -schoolmaster; who was one of a group, composed of two or three of the -busier sort of magistrates, and some visitors they had brought. He -received me, like a man who had formed my mind in bygone years, and -had always loved me tenderly. On my introducing Traddles, Mr. Creakle -expressed, in like manner, but in an inferior degree, that he had always -been Traddles's guide, philosopher, and friend. Our venerable instructor -was a great deal older, and not improved in appearance. His face was -as fiery as ever; his eyes were as small, and rather deeper set. The -scanty, wet-looking grey hair, by which I remembered him, was almost -gone; and the thick veins in his bald head were none the more agreeable -to look at. - -After some conversation among these gentlemen, from which I might have -supposed that there was nothing in the world to be legitimately taken -into account but the supreme comfort of prisoners, at any expense, and -nothing on the wide earth to be done outside prison-doors, we began -our inspection. It being then just dinner-time, we went, first into the -great kitchen, where every prisoner's dinner was in course of being set -out separately (to be handed to him in his cell), with the regularity -and precision of clock-work. I said aside, to Traddles, that I wondered -whether it occurred to anybody, that there was a striking contrast -between these plentiful repasts of choice quality, and the dinners, not -to say of paupers, but of soldiers, sailors, labourers, the great bulk -of the honest, working community; of whom not one man in five hundred -ever dined half so well. But I learned that the 'system' required high -living; and, in short, to dispose of the system, once for all, I found -that on that head and on all others, 'the system' put an end to all -doubts, and disposed of all anomalies. Nobody appeared to have the least -idea that there was any other system, but THE system, to be considered. - -As we were going through some of the magnificent passages, I inquired of -Mr. Creakle and his friends what were supposed to be the main advantages -of this all-governing and universally over-riding system? I found -them to be the perfect isolation of prisoners--so that no one man in -confinement there, knew anything about another; and the reduction of -prisoners to a wholesome state of mind, leading to sincere contrition -and repentance. - -Now, it struck me, when we began to visit individuals in their cells, -and to traverse the passages in which those cells were, and to have the -manner of the going to chapel and so forth, explained to us, that there -was a strong probability of the prisoners knowing a good deal about each -other, and of their carrying on a pretty complete system of intercourse. -This, at the time I write, has been proved, I believe, to be the case; -but, as it would have been flat blasphemy against the system to have -hinted such a doubt then, I looked out for the penitence as diligently -as I could. - -And here again, I had great misgivings. I found as prevalent a fashion -in the form of the penitence, as I had left outside in the forms of the -coats and waistcoats in the windows of the tailors' shops. I found a -vast amount of profession, varying very little in character: varying -very little (which I thought exceedingly suspicious), even in words. I -found a great many foxes, disparaging whole vineyards of inaccessible -grapes; but I found very few foxes whom I would have trusted within -reach of a bunch. Above all, I found that the most professing men were -the greatest objects of interest; and that their conceit, their vanity, -their want of excitement, and their love of deception (which many -of them possessed to an almost incredible extent, as their histories -showed), all prompted to these professions, and were all gratified by -them. - -However, I heard so repeatedly, in the course of our goings to and fro, -of a certain Number Twenty Seven, who was the Favourite, and who really -appeared to be a Model Prisoner, that I resolved to suspend my judgement -until I should see Twenty Seven. Twenty Eight, I understood, was also -a bright particular star; but it was his misfortune to have his glory -a little dimmed by the extraordinary lustre of Twenty Seven. I heard so -much of Twenty Seven, of his pious admonitions to everybody around him, -and of the beautiful letters he constantly wrote to his mother (whom he -seemed to consider in a very bad way), that I became quite impatient to -see him. - -I had to restrain my impatience for some time, on account of Twenty -Seven being reserved for a concluding effect. But, at last, we came to -the door of his cell; and Mr. Creakle, looking through a little hole in -it, reported to us, in a state of the greatest admiration, that he was -reading a Hymn Book. - -There was such a rush of heads immediately, to see Number Twenty Seven -reading his Hymn Book, that the little hole was blocked up, six or seven -heads deep. To remedy this inconvenience, and give us an opportunity of -conversing with Twenty Seven in all his purity, Mr. Creakle directed the -door of the cell to be unlocked, and Twenty Seven to be invited out into -the passage. This was done; and whom should Traddles and I then behold, -to our amazement, in this converted Number Twenty Seven, but Uriah Heep! - -He knew us directly; and said, as he came out--with the old writhe,-- - -'How do you do, Mr. Copperfield? How do you do, Mr. Traddles?' - -This recognition caused a general admiration in the party. I rather -thought that everyone was struck by his not being proud, and taking -notice of us. - -'Well, Twenty Seven,' said Mr. Creakle, mournfully admiring him. 'How do -you find yourself today?' - -'I am very umble, sir!' replied Uriah Heep. - -'You are always so, Twenty Seven,' said Mr. Creakle. - -Here, another gentleman asked, with extreme anxiety: 'Are you quite -comfortable?' - -'Yes, I thank you, sir!' said Uriah Heep, looking in that direction. -'Far more comfortable here, than ever I was outside. I see my follies, -now, sir. That's what makes me comfortable.' - -Several gentlemen were much affected; and a third questioner, forcing -himself to the front, inquired with extreme feeling: 'How do you find -the beef?' - -'Thank you, sir,' replied Uriah, glancing in the new direction of this -voice, 'it was tougher yesterday than I could wish; but it's my duty to -bear. I have committed follies, gentlemen,' said Uriah, looking round -with a meek smile, 'and I ought to bear the consequences without -repining.' A murmur, partly of gratification at Twenty Seven's celestial -state of mind, and partly of indignation against the Contractor who had -given him any cause of complaint (a note of which was immediately made -by Mr. Creakle), having subsided, Twenty Seven stood in the midst of -us, as if he felt himself the principal object of merit in a highly -meritorious museum. That we, the neophytes, might have an excess of -light shining upon us all at once, orders were given to let out Twenty -Eight. - -I had been so much astonished already, that I only felt a kind of -resigned wonder when Mr. Littimer walked forth, reading a good book! - -'Twenty Eight,' said a gentleman in spectacles, who had not yet spoken, -'you complained last week, my good fellow, of the cocoa. How has it been -since?' - -'I thank you, sir,' said Mr. Littimer, 'it has been better made. If I -might take the liberty of saying so, sir, I don't think the milk which -is boiled with it is quite genuine; but I am aware, sir, that there is -a great adulteration of milk, in London, and that the article in a pure -state is difficult to be obtained.' - -It appeared to me that the gentleman in spectacles backed his Twenty -Eight against Mr. Creakle's Twenty Seven, for each of them took his own -man in hand. - -'What is your state of mind, Twenty Eight?' said the questioner in -spectacles. - -'I thank you, sir,' returned Mr. Littimer; 'I see my follies now, sir. -I am a good deal troubled when I think of the sins of my former -companions, sir; but I trust they may find forgiveness.' - -'You are quite happy yourself?' said the questioner, nodding -encouragement. - -'I am much obliged to you, sir,' returned Mr. Littimer. 'Perfectly so.' - -'Is there anything at all on your mind now?' said the questioner. 'If -so, mention it, Twenty Eight.' - -'Sir,' said Mr. Littimer, without looking up, 'if my eyes have not -deceived me, there is a gentleman present who was acquainted with me -in my former life. It may be profitable to that gentleman to know, sir, -that I attribute my past follies, entirely to having lived a thoughtless -life in the service of young men; and to having allowed myself to be led -by them into weaknesses, which I had not the strength to resist. I hope -that gentleman will take warning, sir, and will not be offended at my -freedom. It is for his good. I am conscious of my own past follies. I -hope he may repent of all the wickedness and sin to which he has been a -party.' - -I observed that several gentlemen were shading their eyes, each with one -hand, as if they had just come into church. - -'This does you credit, Twenty Eight,' returned the questioner. 'I should -have expected it of you. Is there anything else?' - -'Sir,' returned Mr. Littimer, slightly lifting up his eyebrows, but not -his eyes, 'there was a young woman who fell into dissolute courses, that -I endeavoured to save, sir, but could not rescue. I beg that gentleman, -if he has it in his power, to inform that young woman from me that -I forgive her her bad conduct towards myself, and that I call her to -repentance--if he will be so good.' - -'I have no doubt, Twenty Eight,' returned the questioner, 'that the -gentleman you refer to feels very strongly--as we all must--what you -have so properly said. We will not detain you.' - -'I thank you, sir,' said Mr. Littimer. 'Gentlemen, I wish you a good -day, and hoping you and your families will also see your wickedness, and -amend!' - -With this, Number Twenty Eight retired, after a glance between him and -Uriah; as if they were not altogether unknown to each other, through -some medium of communication; and a murmur went round the group, as his -door shut upon him, that he was a most respectable man, and a beautiful -case. - -'Now, Twenty Seven,' said Mr. Creakle, entering on a clear stage with -his man, 'is there anything that anyone can do for you? If so, mention -it.' - -'I would umbly ask, sir,' returned Uriah, with a jerk of his malevolent -head, 'for leave to write again to mother.' - -'It shall certainly be granted,' said Mr. Creakle. - -'Thank you, sir! I am anxious about mother. I am afraid she ain't safe.' - -Somebody incautiously asked, what from? But there was a scandalized -whisper of 'Hush!' - -'Immortally safe, sir,' returned Uriah, writhing in the direction of -the voice. 'I should wish mother to be got into my state. I never should -have been got into my present state if I hadn't come here. I wish mother -had come here. It would be better for everybody, if they got took up, -and was brought here.' - -This sentiment gave unbounded satisfaction--greater satisfaction, I -think, than anything that had passed yet. - -'Before I come here,' said Uriah, stealing a look at us, as if he would -have blighted the outer world to which we belonged, if he could, 'I was -given to follies; but now I am sensible of my follies. There's a deal -of sin outside. There's a deal of sin in mother. There's nothing but sin -everywhere--except here.' - -'You are quite changed?' said Mr. Creakle. - -'Oh dear, yes, sir!' cried this hopeful penitent. - -'You wouldn't relapse, if you were going out?' asked somebody else. - -'Oh de-ar no, sir!' - -'Well!' said Mr. Creakle, 'this is very gratifying. You have addressed -Mr. Copperfield, Twenty Seven. Do you wish to say anything further to -him?' - -'You knew me, a long time before I came here and was changed, Mr. -Copperfield,' said Uriah, looking at me; and a more villainous look -I never saw, even on his visage. 'You knew me when, in spite of my -follies, I was umble among them that was proud, and meek among them that -was violent--you was violent to me yourself, Mr. Copperfield. Once, you -struck me a blow in the face, you know.' - -General commiseration. Several indignant glances directed at me. - -'But I forgive you, Mr. Copperfield,' said Uriah, making his forgiving -nature the subject of a most impious and awful parallel, which I shall -not record. 'I forgive everybody. It would ill become me to bear malice. -I freely forgive you, and I hope you'll curb your passions in future. I -hope Mr. W. will repent, and Miss W., and all of that sinful lot. You've -been visited with affliction, and I hope it may do you good; but you'd -better have come here. Mr. W. had better have come here, and Miss W. -too. The best wish I could give you, Mr. Copperfield, and give all of -you gentlemen, is, that you could be took up and brought here. When I -think of my past follies, and my present state, I am sure it would be -best for you. I pity all who ain't brought here!' - -He sneaked back into his cell, amidst a little chorus of approbation; -and both Traddles and I experienced a great relief when he was locked -in. - -It was a characteristic feature in this repentance, that I was fain to -ask what these two men had done, to be there at all. That appeared to be -the last thing about which they had anything to say. I addressed -myself to one of the two warders, who, I suspected from certain latent -indications in their faces, knew pretty well what all this stir was -worth. - -'Do you know,' said I, as we walked along the passage, 'what felony was -Number Twenty Seven's last "folly"?' - -The answer was that it was a Bank case. - -'A fraud on the Bank of England?' I asked. 'Yes, sir. Fraud, forgery, -and conspiracy. He and some others. He set the others on. It was a deep -plot for a large sum. Sentence, transportation for life. Twenty Seven -was the knowingest bird of the lot, and had very nearly kept himself -safe; but not quite. The Bank was just able to put salt upon his -tail--and only just.' - -'Do you know Twenty Eight's offence?' - -'Twenty Eight,' returned my informant, speaking throughout in a low -tone, and looking over his shoulder as we walked along the passage, to -guard himself from being overheard, in such an unlawful reference -to these Immaculates, by Creakle and the rest; 'Twenty Eight (also -transportation) got a place, and robbed a young master of a matter of -two hundred and fifty pounds in money and valuables, the night before -they were going abroad. I particularly recollect his case, from his -being took by a dwarf.' - -'A what?' - -'A little woman. I have forgot her name?' - -'Not Mowcher?' - -'That's it! He had eluded pursuit, and was going to America in a flaxen -wig, and whiskers, and such a complete disguise as never you see in all -your born days; when the little woman, being in Southampton, met -him walking along the street--picked him out with her sharp eye in a -moment--ran betwixt his legs to upset him--and held on to him like grim -Death.' - -'Excellent Miss Mowcher!' cried I. - -'You'd have said so, if you had seen her, standing on a chair in the -witness-box at the trial, as I did,' said my friend. 'He cut her face -right open, and pounded her in the most brutal manner, when she took -him; but she never loosed her hold till he was locked up. She held so -tight to him, in fact, that the officers were obliged to take 'em -both together. She gave her evidence in the gamest way, and was highly -complimented by the Bench, and cheered right home to her lodgings. She -said in Court that she'd have took him single-handed (on account of what -she knew concerning him), if he had been Samson. And it's my belief she -would!' - -It was mine too, and I highly respected Miss Mowcher for it. - -We had now seen all there was to see. It would have been in vain to -represent to such a man as the Worshipful Mr. Creakle, that Twenty Seven -and Twenty Eight were perfectly consistent and unchanged; that exactly -what they were then, they had always been; that the hypocritical knaves -were just the subjects to make that sort of profession in such a place; -that they knew its market-value at least as well as we did, in the -immediate service it would do them when they were expatriated; in -a word, that it was a rotten, hollow, painfully suggestive piece of -business altogether. We left them to their system and themselves, and -went home wondering. - -'Perhaps it's a good thing, Traddles,' said I, 'to have an unsound Hobby -ridden hard; for it's the sooner ridden to death.' - -'I hope so,' replied Traddles. - - - -CHAPTER 62. A LIGHT SHINES ON MY WAY - - -The year came round to Christmas-time, and I had been at home above -two months. I had seen Agnes frequently. However loud the general voice -might be in giving me encouragement, and however fervent the emotions -and endeavours to which it roused me, I heard her lightest word of -praise as I heard nothing else. - -At least once a week, and sometimes oftener, I rode over there, and -passed the evening. I usually rode back at night; for the old unhappy -sense was always hovering about me now--most sorrowfully when I left -her--and I was glad to be up and out, rather than wandering over the -past in weary wakefulness or miserable dreams. I wore away the longest -part of many wild sad nights, in those rides; reviving, as I went, the -thoughts that had occupied me in my long absence. - -Or, if I were to say rather that I listened to the echoes of those -thoughts, I should better express the truth. They spoke to me from afar -off. I had put them at a distance, and accepted my inevitable place. -When I read to Agnes what I wrote; when I saw her listening face; moved -her to smiles or tears; and heard her cordial voice so earnest on the -shadowy events of that imaginative world in which I lived; I thought -what a fate mine might have been--but only thought so, as I had thought -after I was married to Dora, what I could have wished my wife to be. - -My duty to Agnes, who loved me with a love, which, if I disquieted, I -wronged most selfishly and poorly, and could never restore; my matured -assurance that I, who had worked out my own destiny, and won what I -had impetuously set my heart on, had no right to murmur, and must bear; -comprised what I felt and what I had learned. But I loved her: and now -it even became some consolation to me, vaguely to conceive a distant day -when I might blamelessly avow it; when all this should be over; when I -could say 'Agnes, so it was when I came home; and now I am old, and I -never have loved since!' - -She did not once show me any change in herself. What she always had been -to me, she still was; wholly unaltered. - -Between my aunt and me there had been something, in this connexion, -since the night of my return, which I cannot call a restraint, or an -avoidance of the subject, so much as an implied understanding that we -thought of it together, but did not shape our thoughts into words. When, -according to our old custom, we sat before the fire at night, we often -fell into this train; as naturally, and as consciously to each other, as -if we had unreservedly said so. But we preserved an unbroken silence. I -believed that she had read, or partly read, my thoughts that night; and -that she fully comprehended why I gave mine no more distinct expression. - -This Christmas-time being come, and Agnes having reposed no new -confidence in me, a doubt that had several times arisen in my -mind--whether she could have that perception of the true state of -my breast, which restrained her with the apprehension of giving me -pain--began to oppress me heavily. If that were so, my sacrifice was -nothing; my plainest obligation to her unfulfilled; and every poor -action I had shrunk from, I was hourly doing. I resolved to set this -right beyond all doubt;--if such a barrier were between us, to break it -down at once with a determined hand. - -It was--what lasting reason have I to remember it!--a cold, harsh, -winter day. There had been snow, some hours before; and it lay, not -deep, but hard-frozen on the ground. Out at sea, beyond my window, the -wind blew ruggedly from the north. I had been thinking of it, sweeping -over those mountain wastes of snow in Switzerland, then inaccessible to -any human foot; and had been speculating which was the lonelier, those -solitary regions, or a deserted ocean. - -'Riding today, Trot?' said my aunt, putting her head in at the door. - -'Yes,' said I, 'I am going over to Canterbury. It's a good day for a -ride.' - -'I hope your horse may think so too,' said my aunt; 'but at present he -is holding down his head and his ears, standing before the door there, -as if he thought his stable preferable.' - -My aunt, I may observe, allowed my horse on the forbidden ground, but -had not at all relented towards the donkeys. - -'He will be fresh enough, presently!' said I. - -'The ride will do his master good, at all events,' observed my aunt, -glancing at the papers on my table. 'Ah, child, you pass a good many -hours here! I never thought, when I used to read books, what work it was -to write them.' - -'It's work enough to read them, sometimes,' I returned. 'As to the -writing, it has its own charms, aunt.' - -'Ah! I see!' said my aunt. 'Ambition, love of approbation, sympathy, and -much more, I suppose? Well: go along with you!' - -'Do you know anything more,' said I, standing composedly before her--she -had patted me on the shoulder, and sat down in my chair--'of that -attachment of Agnes?' - -She looked up in my face a little while, before replying: - -'I think I do, Trot.' - -'Are you confirmed in your impression?' I inquired. - -'I think I am, Trot.' - -She looked so steadfastly at me: with a kind of doubt, or pity, or -suspense in her affection: that I summoned the stronger determination to -show her a perfectly cheerful face. - -'And what is more, Trot--' said my aunt. - -'Yes!' - -'I think Agnes is going to be married.' - -'God bless her!' said I, cheerfully. - -'God bless her!' said my aunt, 'and her husband too!' - -I echoed it, parted from my aunt, and went lightly downstairs, mounted, -and rode away. There was greater reason than before to do what I had -resolved to do. - -How well I recollect the wintry ride! The frozen particles of ice, -brushed from the blades of grass by the wind, and borne across my face; -the hard clatter of the horse's hoofs, beating a tune upon the ground; -the stiff-tilled soil; the snowdrift, lightly eddying in the chalk-pit -as the breeze ruffled it; the smoking team with the waggon of old hay, -stopping to breathe on the hill-top, and shaking their bells musically; -the whitened slopes and sweeps of Down-land lying against the dark sky, -as if they were drawn on a huge slate! - -I found Agnes alone. The little girls had gone to their own homes now, -and she was alone by the fire, reading. She put down her book on seeing -me come in; and having welcomed me as usual, took her work-basket and -sat in one of the old-fashioned windows. - -I sat beside her on the window-seat, and we talked of what I was doing, -and when it would be done, and of the progress I had made since my last -visit. Agnes was very cheerful; and laughingly predicted that I should -soon become too famous to be talked to, on such subjects. - -'So I make the most of the present time, you see,' said Agnes, 'and talk -to you while I may.' - -As I looked at her beautiful face, observant of her work, she raised her -mild clear eyes, and saw that I was looking at her. - -'You are thoughtful today, Trotwood!' - -'Agnes, shall I tell you what about? I came to tell you.' - -She put aside her work, as she was used to do when we were seriously -discussing anything; and gave me her whole attention. - -'My dear Agnes, do you doubt my being true to you?' - -'No!' she answered, with a look of astonishment. - -'Do you doubt my being what I always have been to you?' - -'No!' she answered, as before. - -'Do you remember that I tried to tell you, when I came home, what a debt -of gratitude I owed you, dearest Agnes, and how fervently I felt towards -you?' - -'I remember it,' she said, gently, 'very well.' - -'You have a secret,' said I. 'Let me share it, Agnes.' - -She cast down her eyes, and trembled. - -'I could hardly fail to know, even if I had not heard--but from other -lips than yours, Agnes, which seems strange--that there is someone upon -whom you have bestowed the treasure of your love. Do not shut me out of -what concerns your happiness so nearly! If you can trust me, as you say -you can, and as I know you may, let me be your friend, your brother, in -this matter, of all others!' - -With an appealing, almost a reproachful, glance, she rose from the -window; and hurrying across the room as if without knowing where, put -her hands before her face, and burst into such tears as smote me to the -heart. - -And yet they awakened something in me, bringing promise to my heart. -Without my knowing why, these tears allied themselves with the quietly -sad smile which was so fixed in my remembrance, and shook me more with -hope than fear or sorrow. - -'Agnes! Sister! Dearest! What have I done?' - -'Let me go away, Trotwood. I am not well. I am not myself. I will speak -to you by and by--another time. I will write to you. Don't speak to me -now. Don't! don't!' - -I sought to recollect what she had said, when I had spoken to her on -that former night, of her affection needing no return. It seemed a very -world that I must search through in a moment. 'Agnes, I cannot bear -to see you so, and think that I have been the cause. My dearest girl, -dearer to me than anything in life, if you are unhappy, let me share -your unhappiness. If you are in need of help or counsel, let me try to -give it to you. If you have indeed a burden on your heart, let me try to -lighten it. For whom do I live now, Agnes, if it is not for you!' - -'Oh, spare me! I am not myself! Another time!' was all I could -distinguish. - -Was it a selfish error that was leading me away? Or, having once a clue -to hope, was there something opening to me that I had not dared to think -of? - -'I must say more. I cannot let you leave me so! For Heaven's sake, -Agnes, let us not mistake each other after all these years, and all -that has come and gone with them! I must speak plainly. If you have any -lingering thought that I could envy the happiness you will confer; that -I could not resign you to a dearer protector, of your own choosing; that -I could not, from my removed place, be a contented witness of your joy; -dismiss it, for I don't deserve it! I have not suffered quite in vain. -You have not taught me quite in vain. There is no alloy of self in what -I feel for you.' - -She was quiet now. In a little time, she turned her pale face towards -me, and said in a low voice, broken here and there, but very clear: - -'I owe it to your pure friendship for me, Trotwood--which, indeed, I do -not doubt--to tell you, you are mistaken. I can do no more. If I have -sometimes, in the course of years, wanted help and counsel, they have -come to me. If I have sometimes been unhappy, the feeling has passed -away. If I have ever had a burden on my heart, it has been lightened -for me. If I have any secret, it is--no new one; and is--not what you -suppose. I cannot reveal it, or divide it. It has long been mine, and -must remain mine.' - -'Agnes! Stay! A moment!' - -She was going away, but I detained her. I clasped my arm about her -waist. 'In the course of years!' 'It is not a new one!' New thoughts and -hopes were whirling through my mind, and all the colours of my life were -changing. - -'Dearest Agnes! Whom I so respect and honour--whom I so devotedly love! -When I came here today, I thought that nothing could have wrested this -confession from me. I thought I could have kept it in my bosom all our -lives, till we were old. But, Agnes, if I have indeed any new-born hope -that I may ever call you something more than Sister, widely different -from Sister!--' - -Her tears fell fast; but they were not like those she had lately shed, -and I saw my hope brighten in them. - -'Agnes! Ever my guide, and best support! If you had been more mindful -of yourself, and less of me, when we grew up here together, I think my -heedless fancy never would have wandered from you. But you were so -much better than I, so necessary to me in every boyish hope and -disappointment, that to have you to confide in, and rely upon in -everything, became a second nature, supplanting for the time the first -and greater one of loving you as I do!' - -Still weeping, but not sadly--joyfully! And clasped in my arms as she -had never been, as I had thought she never was to be! - -'When I loved Dora--fondly, Agnes, as you know--' - -'Yes!' she cried, earnestly. 'I am glad to know it!' - -'When I loved her--even then, my love would have been incomplete, -without your sympathy. I had it, and it was perfected. And when I lost -her, Agnes, what should I have been without you, still!' - -Closer in my arms, nearer to my heart, her trembling hand upon my -shoulder, her sweet eyes shining through her tears, on mine! - -'I went away, dear Agnes, loving you. I stayed away, loving you. I -returned home, loving you!' - -And now, I tried to tell her of the struggle I had had, and the -conclusion I had come to. I tried to lay my mind before her, truly, and -entirely. I tried to show her how I had hoped I had come into the better -knowledge of myself and of her; how I had resigned myself to what that -better knowledge brought; and how I had come there, even that day, in my -fidelity to this. If she did so love me (I said) that she could take me -for her husband, she could do so, on no deserving of mine, except upon -the truth of my love for her, and the trouble in which it had ripened to -be what it was; and hence it was that I revealed it. And O, Agnes, even -out of thy true eyes, in that same time, the spirit of my child-wife -looked upon me, saying it was well; and winning me, through thee, to -tenderest recollections of the Blossom that had withered in its bloom! - -'I am so blest, Trotwood--my heart is so overcharged--but there is one -thing I must say.' - -'Dearest, what?' - -She laid her gentle hands upon my shoulders, and looked calmly in my -face. - -'Do you know, yet, what it is?' - -'I am afraid to speculate on what it is. Tell me, my dear.' - -'I have loved you all my life!' - -O, we were happy, we were happy! Our tears were not for the trials (hers -so much the greater) through which we had come to be thus, but for the -rapture of being thus, never to be divided more! - -We walked, that winter evening, in the fields together; and the blessed -calm within us seemed to be partaken by the frosty air. The early stars -began to shine while we were lingering on, and looking up to them, we -thanked our GOD for having guided us to this tranquillity. - -We stood together in the same old-fashioned window at night, when the -moon was shining; Agnes with her quiet eyes raised up to it; I following -her glance. Long miles of road then opened out before my mind; and, -toiling on, I saw a ragged way-worn boy, forsaken and neglected, who -should come to call even the heart now beating against mine, his own. - - -It was nearly dinner-time next day when we appeared before my aunt. She -was up in my study, Peggotty said: which it was her pride to keep in -readiness and order for me. We found her, in her spectacles, sitting by -the fire. - -'Goodness me!' said my aunt, peering through the dusk, 'who's this -you're bringing home?' - -'Agnes,' said I. - -As we had arranged to say nothing at first, my aunt was not a little -discomfited. She darted a hopeful glance at me, when I said 'Agnes'; but -seeing that I looked as usual, she took off her spectacles in despair, -and rubbed her nose with them. - -She greeted Agnes heartily, nevertheless; and we were soon in the -lighted parlour downstairs, at dinner. My aunt put on her spectacles -twice or thrice, to take another look at me, but as often took them -off again, disappointed, and rubbed her nose with them. Much to the -discomfiture of Mr. Dick, who knew this to be a bad symptom. - -'By the by, aunt,' said I, after dinner; 'I have been speaking to Agnes -about what you told me.' - -'Then, Trot,' said my aunt, turning scarlet, 'you did wrong, and broke -your promise.' - -'You are not angry, aunt, I trust? I am sure you won't be, when you -learn that Agnes is not unhappy in any attachment.' - -'Stuff and nonsense!' said my aunt. - -As my aunt appeared to be annoyed, I thought the best way was to cut her -annoyance short. I took Agnes in my arm to the back of her chair, and we -both leaned over her. My aunt, with one clap of her hands, and one look -through her spectacles, immediately went into hysterics, for the first -and only time in all my knowledge of her. - -The hysterics called up Peggotty. The moment my aunt was restored, she -flew at Peggotty, and calling her a silly old creature, hugged her with -all her might. After that, she hugged Mr. Dick (who was highly honoured, -but a good deal surprised); and after that, told them why. Then, we were -all happy together. - -I could not discover whether my aunt, in her last short conversation -with me, had fallen on a pious fraud, or had really mistaken the state -of my mind. It was quite enough, she said, that she had told me Agnes -was going to be married; and that I now knew better than anyone how true -it was. - - -We were married within a fortnight. Traddles and Sophy, and Doctor and -Mrs. Strong, were the only guests at our quiet wedding. We left them -full of joy; and drove away together. Clasped in my embrace, I held the -source of every worthy aspiration I had ever had; the centre of myself, -the circle of my life, my own, my wife; my love of whom was founded on a -rock! - -'Dearest husband!' said Agnes. 'Now that I may call you by that name, I -have one thing more to tell you.' - -'Let me hear it, love.' - -'It grows out of the night when Dora died. She sent you for me.' - -'She did.' - -'She told me that she left me something. Can you think what it was?' - -I believed I could. I drew the wife who had so long loved me, closer to -my side. - -'She told me that she made a last request to me, and left me a last -charge.' - -'And it was--' - -'That only I would occupy this vacant place.' - -And Agnes laid her head upon my breast, and wept; and I wept with her, -though we were so happy. - - - - -CHAPTER 63. A VISITOR - -What I have purposed to record is nearly finished; but there is yet an -incident conspicuous in my memory, on which it often rests with delight, -and without which one thread in the web I have spun would have a -ravelled end. - -I had advanced in fame and fortune, my domestic joy was perfect, I had -been married ten happy years. Agnes and I were sitting by the fire, in -our house in London, one night in spring, and three of our children were -playing in the room, when I was told that a stranger wished to see me. - -He had been asked if he came on business, and had answered No; he had -come for the pleasure of seeing me, and had come a long way. He was an -old man, my servant said, and looked like a farmer. - -As this sounded mysterious to the children, and moreover was like the -beginning of a favourite story Agnes used to tell them, introductory -to the arrival of a wicked old Fairy in a cloak who hated everybody, it -produced some commotion. One of our boys laid his head in his mother's -lap to be out of harm's way, and little Agnes (our eldest child) left -her doll in a chair to represent her, and thrust out her little heap -of golden curls from between the window-curtains, to see what happened -next. - -'Let him come in here!' said I. - -There soon appeared, pausing in the dark doorway as he entered, a hale, -grey-haired old man. Little Agnes, attracted by his looks, had run to -bring him in, and I had not yet clearly seen his face, when my wife, -starting up, cried out to me, in a pleased and agitated voice, that it -was Mr. Peggotty! - -It WAS Mr. Peggotty. An old man now, but in a ruddy, hearty, strong old -age. When our first emotion was over, and he sat before the fire with -the children on his knees, and the blaze shining on his face, he looked, -to me, as vigorous and robust, withal as handsome, an old man, as ever I -had seen. - -'Mas'r Davy,' said he. And the old name in the old tone fell so -naturally on my ear! 'Mas'r Davy, 'tis a joyful hour as I see you, once -more, 'long with your own trew wife!' - -'A joyful hour indeed, old friend!' cried I. - -'And these heer pretty ones,' said Mr. Peggotty. 'To look at these heer -flowers! Why, Mas'r Davy, you was but the heighth of the littlest of -these, when I first see you! When Em'ly warn't no bigger, and our poor -lad were BUT a lad!' - -'Time has changed me more than it has changed you since then,' said I. -'But let these dear rogues go to bed; and as no house in England but -this must hold you, tell me where to send for your luggage (is the old -black bag among it, that went so far, I wonder!), and then, over a glass -of Yarmouth grog, we will have the tidings of ten years!' - -'Are you alone?' asked Agnes. - -'Yes, ma'am,' he said, kissing her hand, 'quite alone.' - -We sat him between us, not knowing how to give him welcome enough; and -as I began to listen to his old familiar voice, I could have fancied he -was still pursuing his long journey in search of his darling niece. - -'It's a mort of water,' said Mr. Peggotty, 'fur to come across, and -on'y stay a matter of fower weeks. But water ('specially when 'tis salt) -comes nat'ral to me; and friends is dear, and I am heer. --Which is -verse,' said Mr. Peggotty, surprised to find it out, 'though I hadn't -such intentions.' - -'Are you going back those many thousand miles, so soon?' asked Agnes. - -'Yes, ma'am,' he returned. 'I giv the promise to Em'ly, afore I come -away. You see, I doen't grow younger as the years comes round, and if -I hadn't sailed as 'twas, most like I shouldn't never have done 't. And -it's allus been on my mind, as I must come and see Mas'r Davy and your -own sweet blooming self, in your wedded happiness, afore I got to be too -old.' - -He looked at us, as if he could never feast his eyes on us sufficiently. -Agnes laughingly put back some scattered locks of his grey hair, that he -might see us better. - -'And now tell us,' said I, 'everything relating to your fortunes.' - -'Our fortuns, Mas'r Davy,' he rejoined, 'is soon told. We haven't fared -nohows, but fared to thrive. We've allus thrived. We've worked as we -ought to 't, and maybe we lived a leetle hard at first or so, but -we have allus thrived. What with sheep-farming, and what with -stock-farming, and what with one thing and what with t'other, we are as -well to do, as well could be. Theer's been kiender a blessing fell upon -us,' said Mr. Peggotty, reverentially inclining his head, 'and we've -done nowt but prosper. That is, in the long run. If not yesterday, why -then today. If not today, why then tomorrow.' - -'And Emily?' said Agnes and I, both together. - -'Em'ly,' said he, 'arter you left her, ma'am--and I never heerd her -saying of her prayers at night, t'other side the canvas screen, when we -was settled in the Bush, but what I heerd your name--and arter she and -me lost sight of Mas'r Davy, that theer shining sundown--was that low, -at first, that, if she had know'd then what Mas'r Davy kep from us so -kind and thowtful, 'tis my opinion she'd have drooped away. But theer -was some poor folks aboard as had illness among 'em, and she took care -of them; and theer was the children in our company, and she took care of -them; and so she got to be busy, and to be doing good, and that helped -her.' - -'When did she first hear of it?' I asked. - -'I kep it from her arter I heerd on 't,' said Mr. Peggotty, 'going -on nigh a year. We was living then in a solitary place, but among the -beautifullest trees, and with the roses a-covering our Beein to the -roof. Theer come along one day, when I was out a-working on the land, a -traveller from our own Norfolk or Suffolk in England (I doen't rightly -mind which), and of course we took him in, and giv him to eat and drink, -and made him welcome. We all do that, all the colony over. He'd got an -old newspaper with him, and some other account in print of the storm. -That's how she know'd it. When I came home at night, I found she know'd -it.' - -He dropped his voice as he said these words, and the gravity I so well -remembered overspread his face. - -'Did it change her much?' we asked. - -'Aye, for a good long time,' he said, shaking his head; 'if not to this -present hour. But I think the solitoode done her good. And she had a -deal to mind in the way of poultry and the like, and minded of it, and -come through. I wonder,' he said thoughtfully, 'if you could see my -Em'ly now, Mas'r Davy, whether you'd know her!' - -'Is she so altered?' I inquired. - -'I doen't know. I see her ev'ry day, and doen't know; But, odd-times, I -have thowt so. A slight figure,' said Mr. Peggotty, looking at the fire, -'kiender worn; soft, sorrowful, blue eyes; a delicate face; a pritty -head, leaning a little down; a quiet voice and way--timid a'most. That's -Em'ly!' - -We silently observed him as he sat, still looking at the fire. - -'Some thinks,' he said, 'as her affection was ill-bestowed; some, as her -marriage was broken off by death. No one knows how 'tis. She might have -married well, a mort of times, "but, uncle," she says to me, "that's -gone for ever." Cheerful along with me; retired when others is by; -fond of going any distance fur to teach a child, or fur to tend a sick -person, or fur to do some kindness tow'rds a young girl's wedding (and -she's done a many, but has never seen one); fondly loving of her uncle; -patient; liked by young and old; sowt out by all that has any trouble. -That's Em'ly!' - -He drew his hand across his face, and with a half-suppressed sigh looked -up from the fire. - -'Is Martha with you yet?' I asked. - -'Martha,' he replied, 'got married, Mas'r Davy, in the second year. A -young man, a farm-labourer, as come by us on his way to market with his -mas'r's drays--a journey of over five hundred mile, theer and back--made -offers fur to take her fur his wife (wives is very scarce theer), and -then to set up fur their two selves in the Bush. She spoke to me fur to -tell him her trew story. I did. They was married, and they live fower -hundred mile away from any voices but their own and the singing birds.' - -'Mrs. Gummidge?' I suggested. - -It was a pleasant key to touch, for Mr. Peggotty suddenly burst into a -roar of laughter, and rubbed his hands up and down his legs, as he had -been accustomed to do when he enjoyed himself in the long-shipwrecked -boat. - -'Would you believe it!' he said. 'Why, someun even made offer fur to -marry her! If a ship's cook that was turning settler, Mas'r Davy, didn't -make offers fur to marry Missis Gummidge, I'm Gormed--and I can't say no -fairer than that!' - -I never saw Agnes laugh so. This sudden ecstasy on the part of Mr. -Peggotty was so delightful to her, that she could not leave off -laughing; and the more she laughed the more she made me laugh, and the -greater Mr. Peggotty's ecstasy became, and the more he rubbed his legs. - -'And what did Mrs. Gummidge say?' I asked, when I was grave enough. - -'If you'll believe me,' returned Mr. Peggotty, 'Missis Gummidge, 'stead -of saying "thank you, I'm much obleeged to you, I ain't a-going fur -to change my condition at my time of life," up'd with a bucket as was -standing by, and laid it over that theer ship's cook's head 'till he -sung out fur help, and I went in and reskied of him.' - -Mr. Peggotty burst into a great roar of laughter, and Agnes and I both -kept him company. - -'But I must say this, for the good creetur,' he resumed, wiping his -face, when we were quite exhausted; 'she has been all she said she'd -be to us, and more. She's the willingest, the trewest, the -honestest-helping woman, Mas'r Davy, as ever draw'd the breath of life. -I have never know'd her to be lone and lorn, for a single minute, -not even when the colony was all afore us, and we was new to it. And -thinking of the old 'un is a thing she never done, I do assure you, -since she left England!' - -'Now, last, not least, Mr. Micawber,' said I. 'He has paid off every -obligation he incurred here--even to Traddles's bill, you remember my -dear Agnes--and therefore we may take it for granted that he is doing -well. But what is the latest news of him?' - -Mr. Peggotty, with a smile, put his hand in his breast-pocket, and -produced a flat-folded, paper parcel, from which he took out, with much -care, a little odd-looking newspaper. - -'You are to understan', Mas'r Davy,' said he, 'as we have left the -Bush now, being so well to do; and have gone right away round to Port -Middlebay Harbour, wheer theer's what we call a town.' - -'Mr. Micawber was in the Bush near you?' said I. - -'Bless you, yes,' said Mr. Peggotty, 'and turned to with a will. I never -wish to meet a better gen'l'man for turning to with a will. I've seen -that theer bald head of his a perspiring in the sun, Mas'r Davy, till I -a'most thowt it would have melted away. And now he's a Magistrate.' - -'A Magistrate, eh?' said I. - -Mr. Peggotty pointed to a certain paragraph in the newspaper, where I -read aloud as follows, from the Port Middlebay Times: - - -'The public dinner to our distinguished fellow-colonist and townsman, -WILKINS MICAWBER, ESQUIRE, Port Middlebay District Magistrate, came -off yesterday in the large room of the Hotel, which was crowded to -suffocation. It is estimated that not fewer than forty-seven persons -must have been accommodated with dinner at one time, exclusive of the -company in the passage and on the stairs. The beauty, fashion, and -exclusiveness of Port Middlebay, flocked to do honour to one so -deservedly esteemed, so highly talented, and so widely popular. Doctor -Mell (of Colonial Salem-House Grammar School, Port Middlebay) presided, -and on his right sat the distinguished guest. After the removal of the -cloth, and the singing of Non Nobis (beautifully executed, and in which -we were at no loss to distinguish the bell-like notes of that gifted -amateur, WILKINS MICAWBER, ESQUIRE, JUNIOR), the usual loyal and -patriotic toasts were severally given and rapturously received. Doctor -Mell, in a speech replete with feeling, then proposed "Our distinguished -Guest, the ornament of our town. May he never leave us but to better -himself, and may his success among us be such as to render his bettering -himself impossible!" The cheering with which the toast was received -defies description. Again and again it rose and fell, like the waves -of ocean. At length all was hushed, and WILKINS MICAWBER, ESQUIRE, -presented himself to return thanks. Far be it from us, in the present -comparatively imperfect state of the resources of our establishment, -to endeavour to follow our distinguished townsman through the -smoothly-flowing periods of his polished and highly-ornate address! -Suffice it to observe, that it was a masterpiece of eloquence; and that -those passages in which he more particularly traced his own successful -career to its source, and warned the younger portion of his auditory -from the shoals of ever incurring pecuniary liabilities which they were -unable to liquidate, brought a tear into the manliest eye present. The -remaining toasts were DOCTOR MELL; Mrs. MICAWBER (who gracefully bowed -her acknowledgements from the side-door, where a galaxy of beauty was -elevated on chairs, at once to witness and adorn the gratifying scene), -Mrs. RIDGER BEGS (late Miss Micawber); Mrs. MELL; WILKINS MICAWBER, -ESQUIRE, JUNIOR (who convulsed the assembly by humorously remarking that -he found himself unable to return thanks in a speech, but would do so, -with their permission, in a song); Mrs. MICAWBER'S FAMILY (well known, -it is needless to remark, in the mother-country), &c. &c. &c. At the -conclusion of the proceedings the tables were cleared as if by art-magic -for dancing. Among the votaries of TERPSICHORE, who disported themselves -until Sol gave warning for departure, Wilkins Micawber, Esquire, Junior, -and the lovely and accomplished Miss Helena, fourth daughter of Doctor -Mell, were particularly remarkable.' - - -I was looking back to the name of Doctor Mell, pleased to have -discovered, in these happier circumstances, Mr. Mell, formerly poor -pinched usher to my Middlesex magistrate, when Mr. Peggotty pointing -to another part of the paper, my eyes rested on my own name, and I read -thus: - - -'TO DAVID COPPERFIELD, ESQUIRE, - -'THE EMINENT AUTHOR. - -'My Dear Sir, - -'Years have elapsed, since I had an opportunity of ocularly perusing the -lineaments, now familiar to the imaginations of a considerable portion -of the civilized world. - -'But, my dear Sir, though estranged (by the force of circumstances over -which I have had no control) from the personal society of the friend and -companion of my youth, I have not been unmindful of his soaring flight. -Nor have I been debarred, - - Though seas between us braid ha' roared, - -(BURNS) from participating in the intellectual feasts he has spread -before us. - -'I cannot, therefore, allow of the departure from this place of an -individual whom we mutually respect and esteem, without, my dear Sir, -taking this public opportunity of thanking you, on my own behalf, and, -I may undertake to add, on that of the whole of the Inhabitants of Port -Middlebay, for the gratification of which you are the ministering agent. - -'Go on, my dear Sir! You are not unknown here, you are not -unappreciated. Though "remote", we are neither "unfriended", -"melancholy", nor (I may add) "slow". Go on, my dear Sir, in your Eagle -course! The inhabitants of Port Middlebay may at least aspire to watch -it, with delight, with entertainment, with instruction! - -'Among the eyes elevated towards you from this portion of the globe, -will ever be found, while it has light and life, - - 'The - 'Eye - 'Appertaining to - - 'WILKINS MICAWBER, - 'Magistrate.' - - -I found, on glancing at the remaining contents of the newspaper, that -Mr. Micawber was a diligent and esteemed correspondent of that journal. -There was another letter from him in the same paper, touching a bridge; -there was an advertisement of a collection of similar letters by him, to -be shortly republished, in a neat volume, 'with considerable additions'; -and, unless I am very much mistaken, the Leading Article was his also. - -We talked much of Mr. Micawber, on many other evenings while Mr. -Peggotty remained with us. He lived with us during the whole term of his -stay,--which, I think, was something less than a month,--and his sister -and my aunt came to London to see him. Agnes and I parted from him -aboard-ship, when he sailed; and we shall never part from him more, on -earth. - -But before he left, he went with me to Yarmouth, to see a little tablet -I had put up in the churchyard to the memory of Ham. While I was copying -the plain inscription for him at his request, I saw him stoop, and -gather a tuft of grass from the grave and a little earth. - -'For Em'ly,' he said, as he put it in his breast. 'I promised, Mas'r -Davy.' - - - -CHAPTER 64. A LAST RETROSPECT - - -And now my written story ends. I look back, once more--for the last -time--before I close these leaves. - -I see myself, with Agnes at my side, journeying along the road of life. -I see our children and our friends around us; and I hear the roar of -many voices, not indifferent to me as I travel on. - -What faces are the most distinct to me in the fleeting crowd? Lo, these; -all turning to me as I ask my thoughts the question! - -Here is my aunt, in stronger spectacles, an old woman of four-score -years and more, but upright yet, and a steady walker of six miles at a -stretch in winter weather. - -Always with her, here comes Peggotty, my good old nurse, likewise in -spectacles, accustomed to do needle-work at night very close to the -lamp, but never sitting down to it without a bit of wax candle, a -yard-measure in a little house, and a work-box with a picture of St. -Paul's upon the lid. - -The cheeks and arms of Peggotty, so hard and red in my childish days, -when I wondered why the birds didn't peck her in preference to apples, -are shrivelled now; and her eyes, that used to darken their whole -neighbourhood in her face, are fainter (though they glitter still); -but her rough forefinger, which I once associated with a pocket -nutmeg-grater, is just the same, and when I see my least child catching -at it as it totters from my aunt to her, I think of our little parlour -at home, when I could scarcely walk. My aunt's old disappointment is set -right, now. She is godmother to a real living Betsey Trotwood; and Dora -(the next in order) says she spoils her. - -There is something bulky in Peggotty's pocket. It is nothing smaller -than the Crocodile Book, which is in rather a dilapidated condition by -this time, with divers of the leaves torn and stitched across, but which -Peggotty exhibits to the children as a precious relic. I find it very -curious to see my own infant face, looking up at me from the Crocodile -stories; and to be reminded by it of my old acquaintance Brooks of -Sheffield. - -Among my boys, this summer holiday time, I see an old man making giant -kites, and gazing at them in the air, with a delight for which there -are no words. He greets me rapturously, and whispers, with many nods -and winks, 'Trotwood, you will be glad to hear that I shall finish the -Memorial when I have nothing else to do, and that your aunt's the most -extraordinary woman in the world, sir!' - -Who is this bent lady, supporting herself by a stick, and showing me -a countenance in which there are some traces of old pride and beauty, -feebly contending with a querulous, imbecile, fretful wandering of the -mind? She is in a garden; and near her stands a sharp, dark, withered -woman, with a white scar on her lip. Let me hear what they say. - -'Rosa, I have forgotten this gentleman's name.' - -Rosa bends over her, and calls to her, 'Mr. Copperfield.' - -'I am glad to see you, sir. I am sorry to observe you are in mourning. I -hope Time will be good to you.' - -Her impatient attendant scolds her, tells her I am not in mourning, bids -her look again, tries to rouse her. - -'You have seen my son, sir,' says the elder lady. 'Are you reconciled?' - -Looking fixedly at me, she puts her hand to her forehead, and moans. -Suddenly, she cries, in a terrible voice, 'Rosa, come to me. He is -dead!' Rosa kneeling at her feet, by turns caresses her, and quarrels -with her; now fiercely telling her, 'I loved him better than you ever -did!'--now soothing her to sleep on her breast, like a sick child. Thus -I leave them; thus I always find them; thus they wear their time away, -from year to year. - -What ship comes sailing home from India, and what English lady is this, -married to a growling old Scotch Croesus with great flaps of ears? Can -this be Julia Mills? - -Indeed it is Julia Mills, peevish and fine, with a black man to carry -cards and letters to her on a golden salver, and a copper-coloured woman -in linen, with a bright handkerchief round her head, to serve her Tiffin -in her dressing-room. But Julia keeps no diary in these days; never -sings Affection's Dirge; eternally quarrels with the old Scotch Croesus, -who is a sort of yellow bear with a tanned hide. Julia is steeped in -money to the throat, and talks and thinks of nothing else. I liked her -better in the Desert of Sahara. - -Or perhaps this IS the Desert of Sahara! For, though Julia has a stately -house, and mighty company, and sumptuous dinners every day, I see no -green growth near her; nothing that can ever come to fruit or flower. -What Julia calls 'society', I see; among it Mr. Jack Maldon, from his -Patent Place, sneering at the hand that gave it him, and speaking to me -of the Doctor as 'so charmingly antique'. But when society is the name -for such hollow gentlemen and ladies, Julia, and when its breeding is -professed indifference to everything that can advance or can retard -mankind, I think we must have lost ourselves in that same Desert of -Sahara, and had better find the way out. - -And lo, the Doctor, always our good friend, labouring at his Dictionary -(somewhere about the letter D), and happy in his home and wife. Also -the Old Soldier, on a considerably reduced footing, and by no means so -influential as in days of yore! - -Working at his chambers in the Temple, with a busy aspect, and his hair -(where he is not bald) made more rebellious than ever by the constant -friction of his lawyer's-wig, I come, in a later time, upon my dear old -Traddles. His table is covered with thick piles of papers; and I say, as -I look around me: - -'If Sophy were your clerk, now, Traddles, she would have enough to do!' - -'You may say that, my dear Copperfield! But those were capital days, -too, in Holborn Court! Were they not?' - -'When she told you you would be a judge? But it was not the town talk -then!' - -'At all events,' says Traddles, 'if I ever am one--' 'Why, you know you -will be.' - -'Well, my dear Copperfield, WHEN I am one, I shall tell the story, as I -said I would.' - -We walk away, arm in arm. I am going to have a family dinner with -Traddles. It is Sophy's birthday; and, on our road, Traddles discourses -to me of the good fortune he has enjoyed. - -'I really have been able, my dear Copperfield, to do all that I had most -at heart. There's the Reverend Horace promoted to that living at four -hundred and fifty pounds a year; there are our two boys receiving the -very best education, and distinguishing themselves as steady scholars -and good fellows; there are three of the girls married very comfortably; -there are three more living with us; there are three more keeping house -for the Reverend Horace since Mrs. Crewler's decease; and all of them -happy.' - -'Except--' I suggest. - -'Except the Beauty,' says Traddles. 'Yes. It was very unfortunate that -she should marry such a vagabond. But there was a certain dash and glare -about him that caught her. However, now we have got her safe at our -house, and got rid of him, we must cheer her up again.' - -Traddles's house is one of the very houses--or it easily may have -been--which he and Sophy used to parcel out, in their evening walks. It -is a large house; but Traddles keeps his papers in his dressing-room -and his boots with his papers; and he and Sophy squeeze themselves into -upper rooms, reserving the best bedrooms for the Beauty and the girls. -There is no room to spare in the house; for more of 'the girls' are -here, and always are here, by some accident or other, than I know how -to count. Here, when we go in, is a crowd of them, running down to -the door, and handing Traddles about to be kissed, until he is out of -breath. Here, established in perpetuity, is the poor Beauty, a widow -with a little girl; here, at dinner on Sophy's birthday, are the three -married girls with their three husbands, and one of the husband's -brothers, and another husband's cousin, and another husband's sister, -who appears to me to be engaged to the cousin. Traddles, exactly the -same simple, unaffected fellow as he ever was, sits at the foot of the -large table like a Patriarch; and Sophy beams upon him, from the head, -across a cheerful space that is certainly not glittering with Britannia -metal. - -And now, as I close my task, subduing my desire to linger yet, these -faces fade away. But one face, shining on me like a Heavenly light by -which I see all other objects, is above them and beyond them all. And -that remains. - -I turn my head, and see it, in its beautiful serenity, beside me. - -My lamp burns low, and I have written far into the night; but the dear -presence, without which I were nothing, bears me company. - -O Agnes, O my soul, so may thy face be by me when I close my life -indeed; so may I, when realities are melting from me, like the shadows -which I now dismiss, still find thee near me, pointing upward! - - - - - - -End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of David Copperfield, by Charles Dickens - -*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK DAVID COPPERFIELD *** - -***** This file should be named 766.txt or 766.zip ***** -This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: - http://www.gutenberg.org/7/6/766/ - -Produced by Jo Churcher - -Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions -will be renamed. - -Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no -one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation -(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without -permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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