第 78 页

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