David Copperfield

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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.