第 48 页

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?’