第 94 页

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.